>■■■■ ■v-../- CIHM Microfiche a^. ■sl\ iCMH Collection de microfiches (monographies) < ^ ■ fet; CaiMdIan Imtftut* for Historical Rdicroroproductlonf / liwtitut conodlwi do mlcroroproductiofw lilttoriquoi ' 1 qui ■4 Tfchnical and WMiotrapMc Tht Imtitutt hat •ttMnpMd to 4 00^ availiMt for filmint. Fwtnrw of Ait eopy which flMy iwirihIiofriphMlv on^ot. which iMV aHw 'any of tha imaiH in tha rapiQdiietien, or whkh May Htnifieantiy ehanti Iha HMMl mathod of filMint. an chadiwli»gei dis(bokMired..stained or'foiied/ Pages dtaolorfas^ tachaKes ou p iq u ti a □ P»gaf dafachad/ P»|Md*taeh4as 0Showthrough/ Transparence □ Quality Of print varies/ Qualiti i ntgala da I'imprassion □ Continuous peginetion/ Pagination continue D n Includas indax(as)/ Comprend un (dM) index Title on h e ader taken from: / Le titre de I'en-tfte provient: Title pega of issue/ Page da titre de le livreison □ Caption of issue/ ritra da depart da la livreison D Mestheed/ Ginirique (piriodiques) de la livreison 'V'. 22* 26X 30X 12X 1CX 20X 24X 28X 32X TIhi copy filin«d Iwr* has bMn raprcwfuead thanks, to th* ganMrosity of : Thomai FMwr Rart Book LiMwy, UnhraraHy of TiMOMo Ubfwy ^i ■ ■■ ■ .■ ■ , ' '■' ■;.■' ■. ^ Tha imagaa appaarinfl hara ara tha baat quality postibia eonsMaring tha condition and lagibility of tha origbial copy a.nd in kaaping with tKa filming contract spacifications. Original copias in printad papar eovara ara filmad baginning with tha front covar and anding on tha last paga with a printad or illustratad impras- sion. or tha back covar whan appropriata. All othar original copias ara filmad baglhning on t}M first paga with a printad Or illustnitad impras- sion. and anding on tha last paga with a printad or illustratad imprassion. •• 4 ■■ Tha last racordad frama on aach microfteha shall contain tha symbol -4»> (moaning "CON- TINUED"), or tha symbol V (moaning "END"), whichavar applias. ' Maps, platas, charts, ate, may ba filmad at diffarant raduction ratios. Thosa too larga to ba antiraiy includad in ona-axposura ara filmad baginning in tha uppar iaft hand comar, iaft to right and top to bottom, as many framas as raquirad. Tha following diagrams illustrata tha mathod: « ^ ■ '^ V t - k • 1 4 i I 3 ■MHMiBi ■^■■■V 1 L'axamplaira film* fuf raproduit grica A la ^ g4n4r(fslt« da: " ■■ ' ■ ' ■ -'■ / ■ ,«■ ■ '-• ... Thom« FIdMr Rai« Book Library, ' / Unitrwiity of Toronto Library •. V' Us imagas suhrantaa ont ft« raproduitss avac la plus grand soin,comptatanu, da la condition at ds la nattat* da i'axamplaira film*, at an conformit* avac las conditions du contrat da tilniaga. -: '.'\ ;\ .-^ \ :■'..■- -^-:-: : Las axa^plairas originaux dont la couvartura an i papiar ast imprimte sont fihnte oh comman^nt par la pramiar plat at an tarmlnant sdit par la darni*ra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'Imprassion ou d'illustration, soit pai^la sacond pist. Salon la cas. Tous las autras axampiairas origirupux sont f ilmte an comman(pant>par la prahii^fte paga qui comporta una ampTMnta d'Imprassion ou dUhjstration at an tarmlnant par la darniAra paga qui comporta iina taila amprainta. Un das symbolos suhrants apparaftra surla darittiftra imaga da chaqua nricroflcha^ salon la cas: la symbola -^-^ signifla "A 8UIVRE", la symbols V signifla "FIN". ^ ' .;• ■•..:• \'.. ■:- V •. ■-■■"■. Las cartas, planchas, tableaux, ato.. pauvant Atra filmte A das taux da rMuction diff«rants. Loisqua la dociimant ast trap grand pour Atra raproduit an un saui clicM, il astiilm* A partir % da I'angia sup«riaur gaucha. da gaucha A droita, at daltaut an bas, wt pranant la nombra d'imagas nAcassaira. Lm diagrammas suivants illustrant'la mAthoda. \w-. ^. •T 6 MKSOOCW HMUffflON Wf CHAIf (ANSI and HO TESlr CHART No. 2) N. 1.0 1.1 lttl28 Itt lit IM 13.6 1.8 1:25 I U VI 1.6 -7 A /IPPUEP tVHGE Inc 16U Eflrt Main SIfMt Nmt York 14«0e USM (7ta) 4S2-03gO>PlMM« (Tit) 2M-MW-tai • • / / / r v4- \^ JuUa ^cencb Dabson. ^\ ^ Written be ber 'buabaitb fot tbe 38060. ^' 1 \ , # ^ ^ ^m- ■*i ,* / /-- ;i'.. ■'■■/ -' • ,■/•■ ■ ■/ l\ ■ I ., '*5S^ Wi097 -^ -wi^m^cstm ^m- r- ai: 7 f •:1 D § p ' "^ff^ * ■ ^* \ ■^ ^ ■ ' 1 ■ r 1 ■>■■'■■•■■■■ ■ ' ■ ■ ; . *■*■ ^ .'. ' ■ :. : .'- [ a . . - ' J • ■ &■■■.:_ / •' ■ ., ■' ' r . * i • ■ ; : ■ ■; / '■• f - 1 ' A :',]■■ ,■ 1 ■ 1 1: ■ ■ " . ■ ■■( *.- • " 1 ■ ■-, ^ .■• \ #■ -■ , . ■•' : \ ■ ' . , - . --- Ar-r —■--' '■■■--■; • -;■■'*■'■ -— -;- :--:- .■---■--.— " - -.--'- — - — :- * f'' - ■ f "■ ■ ? _• . 1, . , ' \ . . *. -.'■■'» 1 * ■ '■ _ ■ 'V- iL '. • J A-\ ,- \ ' ■; '/■ ■ ■ . f V "^ \- ■ " ■ t i ' - ■ * \ "* ■:^ : ■ ■ . ■■ / ■ / ■ ■ • - — , • - V ■ • ■ ■ X . * '" " • .... nf^MJffr- ■/-^:- • ■ , ■. ■ -^ ,-,. \ '* H^^^ — .^ y .. ': . V i' ■* •■ . ...» "•—if'-'-' -■' T.-'r. ■■-- '■ "" ^^1^^ ^y"^^ :' ■ \ - ■^" ,-^' f ^^ \ * ^ . ■ ■' ' \ V .' .'' ,^' w[ \' ^ ' \ ■■•''■'"' .. O-^ -■■ ~- ^ ■■• T- ^ ^ ■ : ■ \ .-■■' . > :■:::- !.■ . ■ ' • ':.''':''.• ••■■ ■ ■ . ■■ ' <■ ■ T -'-.'■-' :':'-X- ■-''■■" ;' . \ ■. r Vrr 1 -■, - V- " ^- ~"\ 1 >r.,^~kf- -rr (• ■■' ^Si3«^-« j'^^^'n n • #, --i*- m-: ' )r -J^^Siw mr ^1 ^,iM--v-',- » II fr * V ■ *" ; ^l ', ■% ■ A ■ ^ „' • - ■■ ■. '■ " 1 • » .* *v I" -J v/ ■ ^^W' ^ > ft : \ j^^i^r, ^-f-^ r > \ f^rlvatc. H letter to lit IRo^s* \ MoNTMAL, Oeto^, 1898. Ht DkAR BOTB. \_ ■■/■.•. <' ■ I know how quickly memory plays tw falae, I think it well therefore to put down in writing a brief sketch of the life and character of your AotheT, 00 that the impression which she t^ already made upon you, may be intensified by t^ occasional perusal of what I now write. I . ■ .-■■... , Julia Elizabbth Frknoh was bom in Ly tchet, Dorset Co., England, December Slat, 1847. Her' parents came to Canada with their family when she was but a child. I am not able to tell much about her father or motheri save thatthe former was a devout christifui^ who exercised his gifts in preaching the Gospel^ as he found opportunity, and that the latter was an English lady of gentle breeding and education, the daughter of Mrs. Besant^ whose striking portrait hangs in your room. ' Your mother's parents and grand-mother were buried in the old Paris cemete^i As you visit the place<<^u will find the mounds over their graves markdd by a marble slab; Your mother came of good English stock, and through her you have had the ftdvantage of being well-born. IjHt. and Mrs. French died shortly after 'coming to Canaila, one year oiriy elapsing between each death, and there were left Sarah, the oldest gir^ 12 years of ^ : i - ^f■ i'Sfif- - upon whom devolved the\caTe of the family ; James who ^ early in life took up his residence) in the United States, and died there ; Rebecca, Whom you know well and love, aJa Aunt Rebecca ; Julia, your mother, and William, who is now (1898) County Attorney in Oklahama and editor of a newspaper in Chandler. During her infancy and girlhood, Julia was very delicate, a "wee puny lass,'' I have often heard her described, a dreamy body, also,- whose many sicknesses prevented the romping life w^ich was the ^appy lot of her playmaites. She was accusiomed to mention throughout her life and dways. with deep gratitude, the kindness and love givian her by old Mrs, Gilbert, of Beachville, with whoni she used to live. After leaving Beachville, she resided with Mr. and Mrs. John Arnold, of Paris, with whom the family made their home.^^ Because of her ill-health she could not avail herself of early educational advantagi^ but perhaps this lack was fully jcpmpmisated by the taste for reading which was then developed. This appetite soon became a passion, and she eagerly devoured aU literature that came within her reach. The Arnold home placed no restric- tions upon this passion, and she had opportunity through the kindness of her guardian, Mr. Thos. Bosworth, and many Paris friends, of obtaining access to such an assort* ment of ^ood books as enriched all her after life. I have often been struck with her felicity of expression, both in writlbgand in public speech, and her familiarity with worki^ now gone into disuse. To her reading habits m jearly life she owed much that gave value to her public work, uid the sweet charm of her .fireifide conversation. As she came to womanhood she gaine^ strength, ai^d a certain degree of health, so that hot neglected school was i«8umed. She passed through the ordinary drili\6f fhe Paris schools, taking hex certificate after complet ■»*fj'Tr •■ \ the High School. She spent two years at Woodstock College also. Her experience thus far vell-fitted her for the sphere of life to which God was ctjling her. An orphan from an early age, she had developed a spirit of self- reliance and independence. Her acquaintance with books and her aftor-atudies were a foundation for the helpful companionship she gave to her husband. On August 1st, 1877, Julia French was married to your father, who was then pastor of the Denfield church, / and for 21 years was his wife and chum, and constant companion and counsellor, and dearest friend. There -are many things about your mothdr that time would efface from your memoiy, unless some means are taken to preserve them; I write th^ things for your eyes only, and because I do not ttrish even small matters in connection with the beld>redw(»inan to' be forgotten^ I want you to remenibet lier*physically. She was a beautiful woman. The large photographs taken in 1899, give her face correctly, the one profile and the other full face. Tou older boys recall the original, of course, and it will ever remain with you, but, Jack and Will must needs correct fading impressions by reference to the picture and this writing. She was a beautiful woman, and absolutely without bodily blemish, save the lack of robustness which characterized her from girlhood. ^Of course I speak as her lover and husband ; yet, you older boys, will know that I speak justly. Tou recall her eyes, dark grey with bluish tinge, very large, ve^ expressive, , so full of loVe as we looked into them while paying her the daily homage which we all delighted to give her, and so shot with fire, when any cause called for just ° indigniation. How bright they were ! and how constantly they Were bright! The beaming welcome they always gave to the home circle ! Their, glowing fondness for all about, ; \ r the fireside ! Hieir merry twinkle always accompanying the evening ^un during the sacred family hour hefore going to bed! You will never forget her glorious eyes I ain sure. *■ And as she laughed — she was always laughing, you remember— the rows of pearly teeth Would gleam from rosy lips. You must not forgot her remarkable teeth. You never saw any so fine, Or any that kept their beauty so long. Large they Were, and of thai faint suspicion of blue that is so rare and so attractive. Through her life her teieth were admired greatly because of their unique ezcellen'ce. Neither must you forget the rosy cheeks of your niother, which she preserved with her bright eyesuuid pure teeth, for fifty years. They put her sweet Woman- hood in continual bloom, and preserved her girlish appearcmce when she had passed the meridian of life. And suriely her unsurpassed hands will not pass from your memoi^. They were made^ in the choicest mould. The long tapering fingers •were so soft and so transparent. How often she laughed because she could not get a thimble small enough ! And her rings would nof'stay on ! She had to tie them together and so attempt to keep them from slipping off. Bow we used to make merry with her and accuse her of vanity because she presumed to possess such hands ! But we loved their soft touch, and we all liked to fondle them, and their ministry was ever sweet. You must not forget her beauty, boys. It was beauty too that did not fade. Look at her picture. An exact likeness at forty-seven years of age. She had not a gray hair, nor a wrinkle, but at that age she was as fresh and winsome as the day. she became my bride. And so she remained for fifty years, and then the mark of de»th came upon her and the beautiful tabernacle soon came down. So, I have given you an outline upon which your memory nugr work and fill in the complete picture. *■■;■• ■/ '-niz^4r. -^ ?-.^w-fl^ mi' V f Now a few words in regard to other and still more esteemed characteristics. Tlie beloved woman was finely endowed mentally. She adjusted herself to the demands of every position with easy grace and facility. You all rbmember the charm of her conversation ! Let me give you the familiar setting to aid your memory. Let the scene he 1134 Dorchester street, Montreal, or 601 Grace street^ Woodstock. It is a winter evening say, and storm without. The sitting room has,' its usual glowing fire in the grate. The two armchairs a^e in place. The Beloved sits in one. A footstool is at her feet^ and she wears a loose evening robe^ and then hpw we loved to gather around while she talked ! Had she been attending some convention ; then the whole, inattec would be rehearsed. Impersonation was natural to her, and the personnel as well as the speech would be 'rendei^, sometimes with genuine drollery, sometimes withserious- ness, always with unflagging animation* Had she been visiting relations or friends ; then everything of interest would be recounted. Familiar pereonages, .would jbe introduced, and the dialogue gone over in sprightly fashion. We often said her reports were sufficient. Ko. use the rest of us either attending conventions or mining, visits. When she had visitors she had no difficalty in entertaining them. Everybody was made at homo in her company, and* her bright conversation set everybody at ease. She Was always playful and merry, you remember. Sometimes, and this is the only exception, when that terrible paralysis recurred, which nearly took her life in the year '79, the smile died away ^m her lips ; but only for a little while. I must not omit a word or two about her voice. How ^o used to sing! Song after song, for hours at a time, especially when suibmering at her dearly loved home in Muskoka. You must never foiget her boat songa. I want you to hear her voice coming over fi3 ■■/■ ■■■./• / /. . ./ ' the lake as I alwaya do. She could be heard a mile easily. Clear as a bell was her voice, and of marvellous compass, a voice such as one seldom hears, uid once heard is never forgotten. Its speaking power was very remarkable. It could be low and gentle, yet always distinct; and in tiie largest auditorium not a syllable would be lost I have heurd her sptok before latge audiences in an eaqr conversational tone and there would be fio effort at hearing. It was a voice of rich quality^ low in range, qrmpatheUc and far reaching almost beyond credence. An example : A few disys ^{before hor death she was chatting pleasantly with a visitor. I wasin the basement preparing something for her, koA. her observations could be heard quite distinctly though she lay three stories from where I stood. She used it with great effect in her prayer-meeting addresses, and in her public prayers. It was always under perfect control^ yet it voiced the passion of her heart and so often carried benediction to those who listened. But I have left her merry ways to sing the praises of her voice. Well, she was never duU, never ; even tck^the last the constant smUe was with her. ThroT^ghout she was the merry-hearted companion, the girl of the family, who loved her boys and her happy home, and was the life and soul of eveiy joy whichsprang- 80 freely from her presence. And then her wit : you recall its sparkles, her ready repartee, her playful sallies, her funny couplets, her od!d conceits, her lively and incessant character painting and all the whimsies of her sprightly talk. .:-::.^wa mother has left you a rich legaoy* in the abundant store of manuscHpt and letters, which, no doubt, you often peruse. She was a capital correspondent She wielded a facile and graceful pen. There is no attempt at fine writing, but there is intense personality throughput You hear her voice and see her animated v>r '"^wivw m'V^- •i v v mnm n'mi'imtmrx"!' ^ w ezpreasion whenever you read her pages. She had A host of correspondente, and this they all testify of lier. She was much sought after .as a letter friend. * You sl^ould read over especially her Muskoka letters. Such a host of them she lioft 1 And they will come to you again and again as the breath of the pine trees over the rippling waters of Lake Joseph. Treasure those letters especially which tak:e nature into confidence, and chat of trees, and flowers, and birds, and waters ; and those too which take you boys into her motherly heart and deluge yath, and which made counsel with her always welcome and delightful Her character reading also was remarkable, at times little short of inspiration. I leamied to trust her estimate of men and' women, and to prefer her judgment above my own. Ton may judge theil her helpfulness to me in the prosecution of my work. My sermons and addresses all jMssed under her review, and her criticisms were just ^d always helpful. She was aide to appreciate the posiuon of platform and audience alike, and -vras exceedingly sensitive to the demands of either sphere. Hence the value of her suggestions. You will read some of her literary work and art criticisms, and some of her written and printed speeches, and you will always bear in mind thatyoiur mother was a woman oi high mental cidture, who easily took'her position on the pktform, as in the drawing room, in literary and art circles, as in the home. / ;■ %■ % / i o?-^-' \' X-. ■ . / ■f^N Bui there was a side to her character, of greater excellenoe than anything yet enumerated. Your mother was a tme-hearted christian womaUi one who feared Gkxl and was a lover of Jesus Christ Ton will find among her letters her joy-sonf^ written to me at the time when her eyes opened upon the glad new life which came through faith in ^esus Christ She had from childhood heen concerned in regard to spiritual things. God was very real to her ; the bible was v^ry true ; heaven «^d hell were far removed from mere theory, and her soul was troubled. But Grod sSnt her lights and she had in rap- turous fashion the joy of salvation, father Henderson, of the Paris church, baptized hen Her experiepce of God's grace ^addened all her afterlife. She never had a doubt ; her faith never wavered ; and so often in our quiet conver- sations she told me of the joy of that experience which was always present with her. Her heart continually sang praises to God because she had not missed the great salvation^ Loving God so truly as she did, her love for husband and family was pure and joyop as Jit was intense. Yon boys perhaps did not suificie;iwy comprehend it. The wealth of her affection, your maturity only could properly discern ; but to me it glowed a sacred passioi)^ whose depth and beauty must ever affect my life. / The beloved woman was without guile. She could not deceive, she could not be fake. Truth, I think, was the most striking quality of her life. She was the soul of honor, and at all costs, was true. Being trdthful herself and guileless, she was addicted to great plain- ness of speech— not tactful some would say. Well, she spoke her mind upon all occasions, and was not careful to shield unrighteousness, and in the end her plain^ simple words won approbation, even where tiiey at first were scibcely Welcomed. She never sought anybody's favort and she never allowed anybody's patnmage. Whenever ) ^3«*s S-." vi*»a**^if^t*>? ^risj^r* • . / N ^i 1) •NNBs I want an example of anwavering faith and ilnaffected truth, my mind raverta to her and stays there. I want you to think of your mother as to this her chief and per- haps most loTely characteristic. She loved God and served him with simplicity of heart and with childlike confidence. As I write of this quality, two of t repeated scenes in her life stand out plainly before me. I see her kneeling with her boys, in the erne instance, and pouring out her heart's thought to God ; her low voiced utterance, her wealth ©f love ; her passion of entreaty— you will ^ never forget, I am sure. And the other: her prayer.^ meeting address ; whether to God or to the assembled people. Perhaps you do not recall it as Ido, but nothing ever m^ved me as her words upon these occasions. She never spoke until her heart was filled with some great longincb and then the d«(ep far-reaching passion-burdened voice would tell its story of God, and Christ j of pardo^ and of life. She was God's own child, splendidly equipp^ W service. /■ I ^ I should Hke you to know something of the appre- aation in which she was held by those outside her home , and immediate aurroundings. I am not referring now to mere personid friendship— of that, the hundreds of letters received during her sicknera bear abundant testiinony-r-bnt of the larger appreciation due to her worth and aervice. »^ She was always intensely interested in the missionary work of the churches, and found onportunity in the mi Besides all this, every day brought its fresh floweis to her bedside, and love tokens innumerable. Her own people of Olivet church gave her full-hearted and most tender ministry. Indeed, boys, I know of no instance in which kindness and love andheartfeltappreciation were so abundantly andgenuinely shown. I tell you all this that you may never forget the worth and service of the beautiful woman, the pure and true woman, and the woman God so greatly honored, whom it was your privilege to call mother. Now, having told you somewhat oi her work, I must say a word or two in regfod to her play. As she was whole hearted in the one, so she gave herself to the other with delightful abandon. What fine comradeship she V- i .■ ^^^^' ''Jw^y-'W" '^I'Wf^p^r / •> ^ 1- ..■ # diflplayed, whether at work or play, and how we all caught the spirit of her exhilaration, you will not fail to recall The fireside scene I have already referred to, in which her position was always Mistress of Ceremonies, when the rompe and the wrestling would occur. Her hearty ecgoyment of the family fun of boisterous youngsters I know will be a sweet memory to you. I want yon always to hear her merry peal of laughter through it all. But it was in Muskoka that her fun-loving nature found its appropriate field. She had a passion for the wilderness and water, and the solitude of her northern home gave her the freedom for that abandonment to nature which her whole being craved. You recall her many expe^iitions for the curious growths of the dark forest, the trailers and creepers : which hid themselves in the shades, and the bark which, lent itself to her deft fingers- to )i)e fashioned in curious workmanship. You recall hejr bird-lore and her bug-lore, and all the studies and paje^es which her happy Muskoka home always afibrdedl her. And then her joy upon the waters. How at home she was when the white- caps were rolling and the wind was at itd height I She woiAd order fier boat, take her place in the stem cushiona always provided for her, and when the sail was hoisted and the vrind was strong, who so happy as she 1 How her glad songs would echo among^ihe rocks 1 Oi^ perhaps she would prefer the smooth-gliding canoe, ^rged on with paddle ttt sail Yott recidl her keen delight in this sport I need not tell you of her swimming. How she enjoyed the mad water frolics I At times she woukl set out for a neighboriiig island and swim for a mile perhaps, before she reached the other shore. Her &ce would tan, ofHR^se, and she had to be deprived of a great mai^ comforts of course ; yet* her vacation was always pure delight to her, and she was the companion of h#r boys in all the fun and work of it ^-^ r -A' r'", ir ■ A& I speak of her Muskoka life, I wish to impress upon you that your mother never knew fear. Hfir courage ifas magnificent always. She would go alone with her little children to Muskoka, pitch her camp in the woods, her nearest neighbour being, say, half a mile or a mile away, and she would never dream of being afraid. She loved the storm and the angry waters, as you well know. This quality characterized her in all her relationships of ^ life, so that as well as being gentle and womanly, she ever bold, outspoken and fearless. How wonderfully her coun^ sustained her during the awful sickness which oame^to her and took her life, y<|| boys, I am sore, caa nefer forget V > I comia now to write of your motherVlUst days, and if I go into details you will know it is because none of you were with her at the timd, and I would not have you miss the lesson of that heroic conflict with suffering and death. For some years she had noticed a small lum|r9r {^wth, but as it did not give heit . any inconvenience, no attention was paid to it Upon removal to Montreal, however, in '96, she consulted a specialisll who pro- nounced it a tumor, but discouraged operation. Frtmi ' that consnltatibh the g^wth rapidly increased. Qhe was able,' however, to go to her summer home as usual, where she stayed July, August and September. While there we noticed that she was downcast at times, and she told heir maidij who lor nine years had waited on her, and who watched heif lovingly an,d faithfully till the end, that she was sure she was visiting her loved " Arbutus ** ibr the last time. On leaving by steitmboat she, in girlish fashion, bade good-bye to house^ trees, and all her familiar places of resort, saying, she would never see them again, louring fistumn and the early part of winter, she, although T^bright'and cheeiy as usual, showed unmistakable signfl of serioos.illness. In February she went to the ISectrical ■■ i ^s^ni^i^ , i- ■/:■■■' ' . '' ' '. • I ' J* ■'■■."■ ■>;•.■ '^^ ■' ^ ■ : SamUrium, OiUFfti whera she remained a month for ti«atment To no purpose^ however. I brought her from Ottawa upon a Pullman lounge. She was suffering terribly, biit said ehe enjoyed the trip very much. The •now fall was unusually heavy that year, and she had . great delight in viewing its glories from Jliie car window. Upon ireaching home she submitted to another treatment, ' and for a month, in the midst of suffering most acute, persistently went through ite long agony. After several times falling into paroxyms of pain, she sent for a surgeon, . who watching her for a month, suggested an operation as the only hope, and a hope very slighjif at that The ambulance was ordered. Before it arrived, we had • quiet hour together. She prepared herself for death in calmest manner ; "I hope I may live," she said, "Life is very sweet when there are husband and boys and work to live for, but if God wills otherwiM, I am all ready.'* And the men came into her room aUr placed her on a stretcher ; she was carried down-stairs having a smile f agony which otherwisd are before • ,f .■ '*». 3^ y- ■,/. ■ 7 ■■ / ■ \ %1 er or ■ 14 . ^ ■ her." I Mw her struggling in her awakening fr#i ether. I watched her till she came to cona^|^n< She waved me away, saying I must not"t»ltff~ do anything to divert her attention ^j^tmi'^rcotit^it/ with death. And so for a day or two she lay ; but at length she revived — and then her^iadiant joy at the prospect of getting better ! Poor child, nobody had the heart to tell her that recovery was impoeaibls. ' She lay at the hospital for a month and th«n she was brought home. H6w glad we were to welcome her I And oh how' hanoy she was 1 But she. gained no strength, and the pljpnncreased, and her appetite failed ; and we all •aM^the eod approaching. She did not suspect the issue, however, but day after day during any intervals of partial ease, she made her plans for her household and her church and denominational work. She Mtas going on a eea voyage lor her holiday, so she said, and she ordered an invalid's chair, upon which we would place her day by day, and wheel her through the rooms and out on tho balcoiyri . practising, as she said, for th^fteajner's deck. She was the cheeriest one in the room, 4(bH^I|PH ^' ^^^^ andprettUL ways, m6n during the jj^^MBm^^ o4W^ ''^^^^ •uffering. When I coul(i|Hi^^mhing that she could cat I knew the end was not far off; and I then told her my fears, indeed the certainty of her death. She yrtm tmaied at first, but soon bade me tell her all about it ^ Well," she said, after my sad story was tdd, "I faced ■ eath before and I can do so again." "€ome and pray me." I took her hand^ and knelt by her side and prayed. "Now kiss me," and when I embraced her she requested to be turned upon her side, and she went to sleep, and slept as she had not for many days and nights. I inde^ thanked God for her sweet peace and calm faith.- When she awakened she bade me take down her last messages to her friends, and she dictated many letters %0 ■■>& it^ ^smt^^mSti t. I \m f % i ^ to her children and loved ones, speaking until hm v< thickened. A few days after, she gave diractiona fi to the diapoaition of her personal property, and thenljtoiB •a to her faneral. Every item was arranget by h^iM — ^how ahe waa to be robed —how her hair was to b» dreaaed — who ahould perform these offices, etc., etc. Aad a few days before the end she said to me, " When you the end coming take my hands in yours and do not I me till it is all over." On^aturday, June 18th, 189t, atood by her bedside early, before d«wn. She bockom me to bend over her, and {ratting her arms around my neckshe said: "I'm dying new, papa, am X no>t?" "Yea, girl," I said, " You are dying." *' I wish it would hurry, don't you t" and she passed into unconsciousness. Only once more could any utterance be detected-^" Don't fret " waa hardly distinguished, and she lay until 10 p.m. breathing with labor. Then m change was noticed. I took her hands as we had agreed and prayed to the Father and my prayer ended, "Lord Jesus receive her spirit, Amen." With the " Amen" ]|er breathing ceased, and the soul of the Beloved went %)me to God. Ah, the brave struggle she made ! She absolutely refused any sedative throughout the |ong agonry. " No," she s^^d, " I wish to die with a clear brain." You did not see he^die, boys. You, Tom, were in £n|^and-^you, Aleek, poor fellow, Were at Thurso recovering from an operation for appendicitia — ^you, Jack, were wattling heavy-hearted in the drawing room, and Will, you were in bed, so I have written all this that you, dear old ifellows, may alwaya bear in mind that you are sons of a heroine who was never afraid of anything in life, and for whom even death had no terrors. • On Sunday night we took, the poor body to the Olivet Church where all the Baptist congregations of the city assembled, and a beautiful and simple service was i''u4v '.l^-..; 16 'J.-- V. held. Th« oompany weirt-iridi ns to the ateiioii, and we took our beloved dead with qb to Woodstock. Mr. and Mrs. Kam opened their lovely home to us and there the old Woodstock church assembled. There was an impressive service, and we bore her to the burying. We laid her at rest in a beautiful spot in the Baptist oem^tory and covered her-4 grave with flowers ; and so we left her, and the father and the boys were desolate. Boys, you ^l always reverence the memory of thei gentle lady — so good, so ^autiful, so true and so brave. ; c ' : ■ ■'.' ■.■ ■ ■■ ■■ ' T ' ■; ..■ ;' - ■ ■■ • JOk aBous* j|- .' ■■ ■ ' ■• "■ - ' Motn, :'.■'■■. Alexander Turnbull, May i6(h, 1878. Thomas McCosh, - - October 23rd, 1879. John Marquis, . - . November 6tli^ 1882.' Henry French, - - July 22nd, 1884^ William Fvfe, - - • Decemtier 26th, 1886. ■- ■./• . mtt>, : Henry Frbncij, - - - October 29th, 1887. y ^ ^■'l- \ As' I I I ft \ t i- I J- i- •■ ft ' . I I. t %■ I « ' ' / ' "wm ■i I * ' ' f ■ * » . • • V •; 'A ;»< •■* ■; ' . -' • * ■ ■ ' * ■'■*'■ ■■ t ■ .%■ ■ - ■ V . ■■ 1 -■■"•'. '-^ -*• - -A^ .:'■'■: .'.''■ ■" ■ .1 J, . .. .- ■■ • . * - ■ ■ ' ■ 1 ". '' . .1 1 ■ ( .' ■■ ■ , ■ ■ '"■ *"•:■■ •■**•.■ * \ f . -^ Vri / ' fi [aii,.i»«.mi».».) 1 1*'^ 9.r " f| ■BP" r "' 1 ^"ImlMBBr <• ' "^C^ 1 w , '.'nwppp ! ^ 1 , '• • I « ' r . * • - ^ t , r J 1 1 > ^ ' i * 1^ • . »• i*- % / * ^•^^K || 1 f t - ^y , * V ^ / • 'J|! 1 • • ' , ■ y'" ' ^P" f • (» '■■ fc 1 ' , Ti J^Snil ■» f aKg -------- »■ • IH '^1 < , "> f - ,m /•^R • ' ' • ' ^ \ ' , ' - '' . » . • * ' *-3Bf '' -' '*•»&' * \ • ^ > ^ ' • / 1 *J^! * ' 1 ; • - P * ■ • . t / \ n i J ■ f« * !'• -#-. t / i / 1 ^&_ * / ! S " / tWff l',;^*,, • joam' ' -''Sw " • « ^ srJHH * J- j ''.'W* ' • « ; ;^Ai^^^ t ^ ^^l^^m ^E- • •Wm HK^ ' , * r^w' t ■* t i#; - ^ ^ vM^H ^H' •_ • |R^ * fa,' o * -^ < , ■da»t ,-# '^ - \ \ 4^ 1-^ j^ ■ -w M \ 1 N f \ \ 1 ' v^, r ' ■ - ''! - . -^^— - Ill [a.iii.ar»iiiii • i ^ _rj-'-m!-al^-.„.d n*.^A,?L WA— '-A-i ■ ii. .3|| aiiaaaMaBi ^j^l^jw^^l i^R ^B^Sn^^^r ^^^^^ ^OL _____ ,,.^ _ . ) h :." 1 . --^ f^ J,'.^ ... 3tyl»^^^^>fc_