lowed me also at Trinity, and our relations remained the same. We were true friends and brothers in our work, and Alfred Cookman never impressed me but in one way-as the gentlest, purest, and most sincere of men. I am again his successor, but never more will he succeed me. I came here under the shadow of his death to a broken-hearted people. It is doubtful if he ever accomplished more for a Church in any full term of service than for this Central Church of Newark in the few months of his pastorate here. He was ripe in his holiness, and his influence fell like a power of God on all around him. His triumphant death sealed it all, and left the Church so chastened in spirit, so in love with goodness, so aspirant toward purity, that it has been but an easy and joyful task to lead it on to good and noble works. His memory here is as sweet and precious as the memory of mortal man can be. I attempt no estimate of his character, but I give these few impressions of an influence which has fallen like sunshine on my way, with gratitude to God that He gave me Alfred Cookman for a friend and a brother."

I can not more appropriately close these testimonials to the worth and usefulness of Mr. Cookman, nor the history of the life which it has been my pleasant task to record, than by quoting the reference made to his character and death by the Rev. W. M. Punshon, in the memorable address delivered by that gentleman before the late General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the city of Brooklyn. After eloquently characterizing Bishops Baker, Clark, Thomson, and Kingsley, the Rev. Drs. Mattison, Sewall, McClintock, and Nadal, all of whom had died since he came to America, he said: "And then I think of a later loss than these-a blameless and beautiful character, whose name had a hereditary charm for me, whose saintly spirit exhaled so sweet a fragrance that the perfume lingers with me yet, and who went home like a plumed warrior, for whom the everlasting doors were lifted, as he was stricken into victory in his prime, and who had nothing to do at the last but mount into the chariot of Israel, and go 'sweeping through the gates, washed in the blood of the Lamb."

THE END.