obliged to stay the night at the Baths, which are situated at the bottom of a very narrow, wooded ravine with perpendicular sides. There is just room for the buildings and the torrent. The place struck a damp chill into my very bones, and I made up my mind to get away next day; but there set in such a perfect torrent of unintermittent rain that I had not the courage to stir out; and only this afternoon have I escaped, and am rejoicing in re-entering the world and again rejoicing in the open air. This little place is truly enchanting, and the air is like champagne. . . . ."

The next letter, dated July 12th, seemed calculated to allay any anxiety as to the effects of the damp, chill ravine. It opened with reference to some plans, then under consideration, for enlarging the work in London, which occasioned her to remark: "If there was any hope of enlarging our sphere of action, it would be a factor in determining the question for me whether to settle permanently in London or Manchester. I believe there is more to be done for the cause in London than anywhere else just now." Then, after writing of some matters relating to the Journal, she added: "The air is most invigorating and seems enough to make one happy;" and concluded by saying that if the weather, then very rainy, improved, she meant to go on the following week to Chamounix.

Three days later she wrote again. The first pages were again occupied with directions as to the preparation of the report of the Annual Meeting of the Central Committee for the Journal; then followed words fraught with serious anxiety for her friends. She had been for

three days disabled by a severe attack in the throat, and was unable to take solid food, and had to use the pen as an instrument of conversation and communication." She attributed the attack to having exposed herself to the damp, cold air during the rain-but one remembered that the mischief might have been begun. in that chill, damp ravine, and worse might lie behind. "There is no regular doctor in this place, but fortunately there is a chemist who has practised medicine and has treated me very skilfully." "I am a prisoner in my room, which is very tantalizing, just as the glorious sunshine is spread over this enchanting scenery. But I should be thankful things are no worse. The attack might have been very serious if it had not been checked. It will be some days before I can be quite well again, and meantime there is nothing but patience and perseverance with remedial remedies. There are two very nice English ladies here-mother and daughter. They are very sympathetic and often come to see me, which is cheering. It would have been very dreary to be ill alone among foreigners."

On the 17th July she wrote again. Her letter opened with reference to the annual meeting of the Central Committee which had just taken place, and then proceeded with some careful, minute directions as to the proofs of the speeches at the meeting. It then went

on:

My illness has been very serious and I am afraid to think what might have happened if there had not been skilled medical attendance at hand. The pharmacien here has a diploma for medical practice, and has had

eight years' practice in Algeria. He has visited me three times a day to attend to the throat. To-day he brought in Dr. Bonnafoy of Sallanches, who has been twice and increased the vigour of the remedies. Both doctors pronounce me decidedly better, as indeed I feel, and they expect that in two days I shall be convalescent and able to take solid food. My experience of the French doctors is very satisfactory; they are so very capable and skilful. I must, of course, stay on here till I am quite restored, so please continue to send things. Papers of all sorts will be doubly welcome while I am such a close prisoner to my small room.

"My sleep has been much disturbed by dreams-no doubt caused by the discomfort and oppression in my throat. Oddly enough, no sooner do I drop off into a doze than my nightmare comes to rattle me off on travels. The first night it was always Chamounix that she kept constantly careering round. The second night she fixed on Porrentry in the Jura. Last night she scampered over the tops of the mountains about here. I cannot help wondering what part of the map she will select for to-night, if she is not yet tamed.-Yours ever, "L. E. B."

That letter could not have been written more than a very few hours when the doctor perceived a change for the worse, and told her the only hope would be in the greater skill of a doctor in Geneva. With her resolute will she immediately decided to go to Geneva, first telegraphing the address of the doctor to her brothers, and begging them to come to her, for she was very ill of diphtheria. Then she started on that long drive of forty

miles, her maid her only attendant. The day was fine and the air seemed to brace her up; though she took out her watch and wrote-for she was too ill to speak -"I shall not live to get there."

It was one of her maxims in life, that if we had but one day to live, we should try to make it as bright as we could, and she was true to her rule to the end: even on that terrible drive she took enjoyment in the glorious scenery they were passing through, pointing to some of its beauties.

She did indeed reach Geneva, but the doctor to whom she had an introduction was not at home, and before he could reach her at the Clinique Juillard, where she had been received, the vital force was spent.

Then the short telegraphic message, transfigured in the hearts of friends to the words of solemn soothing— she was not, for God took her.

§ 39. In Memoriam.

How those tidings fell on the hearts of the workers with her in the long struggle, is chronicled in many letters received by the present writer, of which the following are characteristic passages: :

Mrs. M'LAREN-(on reading that last letter)." The conclusion is a poem, almost Ossianic, and is emblematic of and accords with the mental flights she was able to take in her best days. Oh, how she has left us all wondering as to where the last night's flight has carried her dauntless spirit. How little did she dream that it would be beyond 'that bourne from which no traveller

returns.' Surely she must have gone to a place of rest, to prepare for some further mission for the good of women.

Miss ARABELLA SHORE-(on seeing the notice in the "Pall Mall").—"The woman's cause owes everything to her-she was the leader of the vanguard at the beginning and the chief supporter of it through all its first difficult years. . . . Truly, this is a rigid service she gave herself to. I hope, however, she had some happiness in it. I like to think my last intercourse with her was in a visit she paid us here, and to remember her intense enjoyment in scenery and flowers."

Miss FRANCES POWER COBBE-(on reading in the "Globe" that our "brave, good friend and champion" was dead)." One has hardly time yet to think of the loss she will be to the cause of women, but it is immeasurable. . . . . She did so long to see the fruit of her labours and, as she once told me, to pass on to other things."

Mrs. REBECCA MOORE." Her memory should be an inspiration to all who knew her."

SARAH LEWIN.-"There was much sweetness under that strong, dauntless manner."

§ 40. Afterwards.

"The movement has got far beyond depending on any individual," Miss Becker had said as we were discussing probable outlooks together, a few weeks before she started for Aix-les-Bains. The uppermost thought now became, "how shall we make those words true?" for