t, while I had only to look on and see. My only wonder was that
people had lived so long without the happiness that they might have had
for the taking. I didn't want to go to the meeting, I felt so weak and
unable to bear the tension of spiritual excitement. But as it was it
didn't tire me at all, but made me love a lot of the people. May the
Chinese feel the flood tide of new life that has come into Peking! And
they must, there can be nothing to hinder it.'

The reference in the last part of this letter is to a great deepening
of spiritual life that took place among the missionaries, and also among
some of the European residents in Peking.

The first explicit reference by Mr. Gilmour to his coming sorrow occurs
in the Diary; but in his report, sent home a month later, and dated
August 4, 1885, he wrote: 'Mrs. Gilmour is very ill, and now very weak.
I fear all hope of her recovery is taken away. Her trouble is a
run-down, but the serious complication is her lungs. We are at the hills
in a temple with another family, the Childs. Mrs. Child came out in the
same ship with Mrs. Gilmour, when, as Miss Prankard, she came first to
China. Mrs. Child renders invaluable service to the sick one.'

In the Diary the following entries show the course of sorrowful
events:--

'_July 4, 1885._--It really dawns upon me to-day in such a way that
I can feel it that my wife is likely to die, and I too feel
something of how desolate it would be for me with my motherless
children sent away from me. Eh, man!'

'_August 22._--Emily spoke of being sometimes _so_ happy. She is
quite aware now she cannot recover.'

'_September 13_, Sunday, Peking.--Emily saw all the women. She felt
very weak to-day. Remarked at 7 P.M.: "Well, Jamie, I am going, I
suppose. I'll soon see you there. It won't be long." I said she
would not want me much there. She said fondly she would. "I think
I'll sit at the gate and look for you coming." Said she has been
out for the last time. Asked me not to go to chapel, but went.'

'_September 17._--To-day, in the morning, I promised Emily that I
would remain home from the chapel and give her a holiday. She was
_so_ pleased. We had a most enjoyable afternoon. She was so happy.
She sat up for an hour or so, and we conversed about all things,
the use of the beautiful in creation, &c.'

All the next day Mrs. Gilmour slowly sank, and soon a