568 
OBITUARY. 
We ought to have recorded the death of Professor Miller, 
of Edinburgh, in our last number, but press of matter pre¬ 
vented its insertion. In the medical and scientific world he 
was well known, and his loss has been by our contemporaries 
much deplored. He was a man highly respected and much 
esteemed for his work’s sake, he being a good man as well as 
professionally great. One speaking of him, says, “We are on a 
journey—a journey through the desert. Companions are drop¬ 
ping day by day at our side. We are sad when we suffer be¬ 
reavements, and many, both of the rich and the poor, will 
sorely miss the beloved physician. One sentence of the Master 
fully describes the character of the servant—' Love one another 
as I have loved you.’ This is the key-note of his life since 
he was led into the peace of God. A great necessity lay 
upon his heart always—the necessity of doing good lay upon 
his heart as the flowing stream lies on the mill-wheel, com¬ 
pelling it to go round; and that weight—that commanding 
motive of life—was the mercy of God through Christ to his 
own soul. There was an amazing activity in his habits. He 
did not know repose. The rest which he eloquently vindi¬ 
cated for others he could not much enjoy himself; yet con¬ 
tinuous activity did not, in his case, ally itself with austerity. 
His life was eminently cheerful. His work was the work of 
a strong man; his manner was like the playfulness of a child 
before care has begun to weigh upon the spirit.” 
It is, perhaps, on account of our own loss that we sincerely 
regret the removal hence of Professor Miller. He was 
associated with us as a member of the Scotch section of the 
Examining Board. One of his colleagues thus writes to us :— 
“ I know of no circumstance which is so calculated to cast a 
gloom over our Scotch Examining Board as this. Professor 
Miller was the most affable, gentlemanly, and agreeable man 
I ever knew, and I am sure his place at the board will not be 
easily filled.” 
Thus death knows no distinction. He smites at a touch 
the strong man, and bears him away; and the earnest and 
useful worker is unexpectedly taken from us. Ever will it 
be that throughout life much that is mysterious and beyond 
our comprehension will take place, so variously are all things 
wrought. Still all is right. ’Tis well, too, 
“ To feel, although no tongue can prove. 
That every cloud, that spreads above 
And veileth love, itself is love.” 
