The services on Sunday last at Christ Church, Warrnambool, were of an impressive nature, the Rev. Dr. Peter Teulon Beamish on both occasions referring to the loss of his lamented friend, the Rev. Dr. Francis Thomas Cusack Russell, who died on board the ship "Hampshire." By the black-draperied pulpit and reading-desks the assembling congregation well knew that they were about to take part in the sad and painful office of paying a last tribute to the memory of a warm, faithful, and revered friend.

After the Lessons for the day had been read, the hymn opening with the words "When our heads are bowed with woe," was sung by the choir, and never were the mournful cadence of the tune and the sad expressiveness of the words more closely linked with saddening remembrances in the minds of the congregation. Dr. Beamish selected his text from Romans viii. l8, and following verses, and in the course of his sermon spoke as follows of his deceased friend: -

"The bitter tidings which on Sunday last sent grieving away the loving friends who had gathered at Melbourne to wait and watch for the arrival of Dr. Russell quickly spread, and have long since reached every part of this district, in which he was so generally esteemed that his name could scarcely be mentioned in any household without calling forth sentiments of reverence and affection; and to us, my brethren, more than to most others the tidings are grievous, for during 25 years he was wont, from time to time, to visit us and to preach to us; and no one who had the least opportunity of coming under his influence, in public or private, could doubt how attractive a man he was, and how full of feeling were his words. Naturally gifted as not one man in thousands has ever been, he so cultivated and polished, by constant use and exercise, his marvellous powers, as to exert an influence that spread wider and went deeper than could be easily understood or believed by those who did not experience or see its effects."

"Nothing about him was more remarkable than the sympathy with which, seeming to live almost more in others than in himself, he entered into and keenly felt for all their weaknesses and distresses, their difficulties and doubts. And may we not trace the nervous disease which brought his life to a close, at the age of 53, to the exhaustion inseparable from that continual outcoming of sympathy which, while it mightily increased his influence, drained dry the springs of his life. Like Him whose servant he was, in seeking the good of others he sought to live in them that he might draw them to himself, and win their souls for God and heaven; great was his success, but so was the self-sacrifice which it involved."

"He has left his mark where it will be more durable than if it were engraved with an iron pen and lead in the adamantine rock; for it is stamped where moth and rust corrupt not, on human minds and hearts, and in legible letters on the lives of many. Eager to end where he began his public ministry, he hoped to close his eyes and leave his bones among those to whose welfare his life had been devoted. Accordingly he took his passage on board the "Hampshire," from London, and sailed from that port on the 5th January 1876. He had proceeded a month on his voyage and had passed the line, when on Sunday, the 6th February, after he had twice on that day conducted service on board, and had spent some time among the sailors instructing and advising them, he complained of headache, and he was obliged to go below and seek his berth."

"As he laid himself down, he said - 'I will say my prayers in bed to-night.' These were the last words he was heard to utter. Late in the night the same malady with which twice before leaving this country, and again when in Italy, he had been seized, returned with increased violence. From that moment he remained speechless and unconscious until his death, which occurred at 5 o'clock on the day following, and in a few hours afterwards his body was committed to the deep,"