226 PROF. F. F. ROGET^ ON FREDERIC GODET, SWISS DIVINE, 



Practically he had never been ill, and now that his work was 

 cut down to the measure of his strength, a vista of many years 

 of useful labour opened out again before him. 



J^ot so for his Imperial disciple. In October and November, 

 1887, we find the prince at San Remo. Once he ends a long- 

 letter with these words : " Farewell, my dear friend, and let me 

 assure you once more that my humility before the Lord and my 

 submission to His will are still exactly the same as you knew 

 them in me, when I was the child entrusted to you." 



The prince, after undergoing the operation of tracheotomy, 

 left for Berlin in March, 1888, on the death of Emperor 

 William the First, then 91 years old. 



Here is a translation of Godet's last letter to his disciple, at a 

 time when the new Emperor had but a few weeks to live before 

 parting with all his earthly hopes, and when he had just 

 written to the Court Preacher : " Pray no longer for my 

 recovery, pray for my deliverance." 



" My dear Emperor — I ever have you before my eyes, and see 

 you with all those hopes on one side with which you 

 grew into an ever wider life, and, on another side, I 

 behold all the sacrifices w^hich are now so unexpectedly 

 demanded of you : having to renounce this earthly life 

 which we always hold so dear ; having to part from all 

 your beloved ones ; having to yield that power the 

 prospect of which you held dear for the sake of all the 

 good you hoped to do ; having to lose voice itself, the 

 means of pouring one's heart in the heart of those who 

 understand you. 



" If only you knew how this accumulation of griefs, pouring 

 down upon him whom I once saw in his childlike mirth 

 and trustfulness, weiglis my lieart down ! If only you 

 knew how much I feel I must probe with you all this 

 bitterness to the depths, that I may the more ardently 

 beseech Him Who may sweeten it lor you. 



" In your woeful progress, you know at least that you are 

 accompanied by universal feelings of sympathy and 

 respectful affection. Thus was not favoured He to Whose 

 sufferings you are now associated. He had for His 

 share on the way to the cross mockery and every 

 outrage, on the cross itself He felt forsaken by the One 

 on high, and from men He got naught but . . . 

 vinegar. 



