IMACE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I .-5 IIIIM IIM 2.2 2.0 .8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" ► V] <^ ^ A (^ c?-! V ■w "^ "^^ *» .?>* ^ '# d? / Photographic Sciences Corporation '^^fe'"^^ V^\. ^^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4.^03 ^" I o^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical IVIicroreproductions institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 1980 Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this cop^ which may be bibliographically unique, w!i!ch may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below. L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de sa procurer. 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The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvrnt dtre film^s i des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich<^, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup^rieur gauche, de gauche i droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. errata to I pelure, on d I D 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 . .^■^.^■^-^■^■-^.^■-■-■^■-.-■^•^ -■'■^-^ •^■^■^'^■-^ ■■«•■■»■ ■■^-^'^^^^-'^•^^^^^^ o m.'^ .4y'- imuwi i' t^ fibttti -^ TO K^ Charles ^. H^assey. vvivxi ip^iiiiy<^<^>i^|>if^*^w y iipii > i»>^»'''»i » wy*'^'»^*^'^W^F»'^'^'^'*'»'^'^^ AL(A*«t>l«/.t»PtiC»Bir Tq^c-h'^ CZ^X^^o<^ >1K- TOHES, ;s 1 R 1 A L S E R 1 ■■miif]{m«,i ni M^ -v M?"^?^ H. A. MAS WH HOME FEBRUARY I2th AGI: « CS-^--^>-2- ?' «^^-^ sc in itself. a curiously ne. ' too much 2e and the ivithstand- ndfather's pecial pet of inno- cence depicted on the face of the mischievous juvenile when his little 'pranks were brought to notice was quite overcoming to the old gentleman. The domains of his grandmother would not escape invasion, and now and then the use of the traditional 8lipp(*r would be sternly threat(!nod. The old homestead afforded a delightful place for the frequent haunts of our little friend. The broad extensive verandah, 8pa(;ious grounds and varied surroundings made it an attractive spot for the favorite grandson, particularly so when all the inmates were so glad to have him come. How well docs memory call to mind that Christmas morning when Charles and his brother, with fife and drum, marched into the yard of this (}uaint old dwelling, making all the noise that wind and strength could muster. The old cobblestone house, with its peculiar dome and stately proportions, was made to ring with the jubilees of these Christmas visitors. It was in those times when a simple toy or two brought more joy into the home than the lavish and indulgent supplies of these latter days. What kingly airs had these lads with their humble presents — happier than a farmer with a new farm, or the millionaire with his new railroad. But little Charley was early taught that life was not all play, and that there was something for little hands to do. He was made useful in doing chores about the house, carrying in wood etc., ead driving the cows to pasture. While performing this latter task one morning he received an injury resulting ia the breaking of his collar bone. He came home somewhat dilapidated, causing his mother con- siderable fright, but he was soon out again. Perhaps the most re- munerative labor our young friend performed in his child life was gathering together old scrap iron. A good deal of this material be- came scattered over the yard and underneath the ground around the factory, and young Charles and his brother were awarded one cent a pound for all the scrap cast iron they could collect about the premises. It served as quite a bonanza, and the boys accumulated a considerable amount for those days. The dear old grandfather from New York State made a visit to the family and gave valuable assistance to his grandsons in their iron trade. He would dig up the iron about the yard, and the boys would pick it up, and so the extremes of life were 6 brought together making money out of the middle generation for juvenile pockets. Such pursuits as these were well suited to the business mind of young Charles and helped to develop his youthful ambitions. He was not a "boy" after the average sort — there was too much tiiought, study and contrivance about him to sped rauch of his boy life in the accustomed sports of his fellows. He had more delight in obtaining food for the mind, gaining knowledge from superiors and ever-reaching out after more. He matured early, enjoyed the society of those older than himself, and was always in advance of his years. One evidence of this fact is that Charley commenced playing the cabinet organ in the church at New- castle when only about 13 years of age, and continued in that posi- tion for three years, when he went to College. He was remarkably regular at his pitst, and attained a high degree of efficiency. Some- times new pieces which he had not learned would be placed before him at a public service, but such was his proficiency at reading music that he would manage to get through without a break. Although in later years he gave little or no time to music, he never lost that magic touch, and whenever those princely chords were heard it was readily known that Charles was at the instrument. It was easy for Charley to learn in any branch of study, and he had a good start at home. His devoted parents were ever mindful of Lis instruction in every line, and as soon as he was old enough to learn, his teaching began. His mother gave close attention to his reading, and with the help he received from association with a lady teacher, resident in the family, our youthful scholar gained this first accom'.-lishment very early. The advantage of this was ever after- wards realized, and this foundation being laid, succeeding instruction carne all the easier. In those days the privileges of school education were far from what they are now, but Charley had the benefit of the best that could be afforded. At first he was placed under the care of a govd^ness employed at the home of his grandfather Massey, and afterwards attended the Academy at Newcastle. He also for a while went to the Common School then in operation, and latterly to the Grammar School which began its career about that time. These were the agencies in the instruction of young Charles until his College life began. [iieratioii for I'ited to tlie [liis ycuthful piiere was too |iiiuch of his »"1, gaining more. He Nniself, and fact is that cli at New- 1 that posi- reniarkably icy. Somo- aced before "ling music AltJiouirh er lost tliat eard it was idy, and he mindful of enough to tion to liis ^'ith a ]ady d this first ever after- nstruction far from iliat could governess fter wards went to grammar vere tlie lege life But when we write ot the early influences and teaching of our dear young friend, the record would be void of its most important factor were we not to speak of the mightiest moving force of his life — his early religious instruction. He was watchfrlly governed, reared in a Christian home, and led to attend Church and Sunday-school regularly ; but the careful reli- gious ti'aining of a godly mother was the hallowed instrumentality that overshadowed all the others. That influence touched the springs of all his life and was felt throughout his being. Bible truth was instilled into the mind of Charles, and he was taught how to pray at his mother's knee. She was absorbed in the welfare of her noble boy, and for him her prayers never ceased to ascend. Hour by hour that devoted mother would read to her little ones from " Peep of Day," " Line upon Line," " Precept upon Precept," and " Here a Little and There a Little ; " and Charley was always an attentive listener. He was deeply impressed by what he heard, and on one occasion, after liearing the magic story of the life of Joseph^ he sat by the fire for a long time deeply meditating, and at length broke out with the words, "Poor Joseph! poor Joseph ! " The faithful mother gave herself to her children, and refrained from any calling that would keep her from discharging her duty to them. She was always aware of the whereabouts of her son, and preferred to do for him herself rather than leave him in the hands of others more than necessary. The boys loved their mother, and home was attractive to them because she was the central figure. At times, when there were special calls for the heads of the house to be out in the evenings, as the shades of night had gathered the bcvs would say, "Ma, are you going out this evening 1 " and when a negative answer was given, they would exclaim, " Oh, I am so glad I " They knew what to expect, and were glad to gather about their dear mother and learn of the deep things of Grod. These eventide circles were the mother's " Holy of Holies," where a spiritual fire was kindled that never went out. Beautiful and impressive supplication was heard from the lips of little Charles at these hallowed scenes, and a habit of prayer was formed which he faithfully observed in adult life. In the year 1864, at the age of 16, Charles entered Victoria Col- lege, Cobourg, where he studied for two years. It was the year in 8 which his father's foundry and machine shop were entirely destroyed by fire ; and much as a boy of that age could be of use at home, the father preferred to undergo the sacrifice of being without his boy and give hiin an education. Charley matured rapidly while away to school, and made friends on every hand. He had a harmonium with him in his room, which enabled him to keep in good practice; but it was not difficult for him to hold familiarity with the keys. He played the chapel organ at morning prayers in the College, and acted as supply organist at the church when required. Charles was profi- cient in his studies, but he had too great a longing for the intensely practical to remain long away from business or manufacturing. Machines were more to him than classics, and he exchanged the student's gown for smock and overalls. It was in the year 1866, and directly after leaving College, Charles entered his father's factory in a workman's garb. He was placed in the iron-finishing department, where he was made accustomed to the details of manufacture, and for a while ran a lathe. By this arrangement he was brought into close contact with the workmen and machinery, aiid made familiar with the business to which he devoted his life. During all these years the maturity of Charles was rapid, and he developed from boyhood into manhood at a bound. Wherever he was placed he was the same gentlemanly young man, and Charley was a general favorite. He made a visit to his two aunts at College at one time, and there being sufficient similarity in their ages, Charles was taken as their brother. They were proud to be considered in such a relation, and so let it pass. These auuts respected their nephew very highly. They had been in his society a great deal during child-life, and in his " boy " days he was very good to thom, though he did sometimes maim their dolls. Fn the fall of 1866, Charley, accompanied by his brother, sister, and these two aunts, made a tour in the Western States. It was thought that a change all around would be a good thing for the young quintette, so this attractive programme was arranged. They had been so long accustomed to quiet village life the change was very great, and it was like the opening of a new world to these young Canadians. The cities of Kalamazoo, Chicago, Dubuque, and Cleveland were visited, and right royally was the party received and entertained at these places by the relatives and friends, as Westerners are wont to do. I 9 ly destroyed It home, the his boy and ile away to ionium with 'tice; but it keys. He '. and acted is was profi- 'e intensely uifacturing. hanged the ege, Charl(>s s placed in ustomed to By this 3 workmen wJiich he 'harles was ■t a bound. 'oung mail, to his two inilarity in 3 proud to had been ' " days he r dolls, sister, and IS tliought quintette, 1 so long nd it was ins. The e visited, at these kt to do. At the place first named Charley met for the first time the daughter who afterwards became his wife. The time allotted for the jrurney was soon over, and the young party returned to Toronto where the Provincial Fair was then in progress. Here they separated, the aunts proceeded to Hamilton, where they were in attendance upon the Wesleyan Female College, and the others returning to Newcastle soon after. About two weeks after coming home from his Western trip Charles entered tlie British American Commercial College, Toronto. Herf his business ability and capacity for rapid work were soon manifest, and he quickly pursued the course and numbered himself among the graduates. A few days after this, he began the course -<,t the Military School, Toronto, and finished this branch of schooling about two months later. His tall form, well-proportioned physique and manly bearing made him a good subject for military accomplishment. This term at the Military School concluded the student life of Charles, and returning home he laid aside the forage cap and red jacket to assume the cares and responsibilities of a business man. It was now the summer of 1867 and his father, having machines at the great Paris Exposition, made a trip to Europe, causing an absence from home of over two months. This necessitated placing upon the young shoulders of Charley grave responsibilities in the management of his father's business aflfairs, but he proved himself equal to the task, and there were no dis- asters to face when the father came home. It is worthy of considera- tion that Charles was not yet nineteen years of age, though he took hold of the re-sponsibilities like a man of thirty. From this time forward to the day of his death he was closely identified with the business in which he was reared. He never knew any other business, and gave it unqualified attention. This experience during his father's absence 'i Europe was of great value to him, confirming his con- fidence and giving him at once in the start a realization of what his life-work was to be. Charles became rapidly acquainted with afiairs in general, showing remarkable adaptation to liis calling. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his father in the management of the business and showed himself a son to be proud of. Though his cares began to multiply he was not indifferent to 3E 10 other claims upon his time, and again rendered valuable service to the church by filling the position of organist, which place he occupied for t\o years after the close of his College life and up to the time of his marriage. This task demanded considerable sacrifice, but it was cheerfully and nobly performed. During the latter part of the summer of 1868 the family made a pleasure and health seeking trip to the sea-shore and other points, involving a lengthened absence, during which time Charles was not only in charge of the factory but the house as well. In the year 1870 material changes were made in the business and in the family. The wearying cares which had so long engrossed the attention of Mr. H. A. Massey began to tell upon his health, and he found it necessary to be relieved. To accomplish this a change of residence was deemed best and plans were laid for removal. Frie;ids had long been presenting the attractions of a rapidly-growing Western city, which resulted in the purchase of property in that thriving centre, making a nest-egg for the future. By this time Charles had become thoroughly conversant with the management of the business, and his capabilities were sufficient to justify the father in handing over the honors of immediate respon- sibility to his worthy son. In order to accomplish the best results to all, facilitate the management and increase the capital in the business, a joint stock company was formed under the name of The Massey Manufacturing Company, with H. A. Massey as President, and C. A. Massey, Vice-President and Manager. Charles filled this position with great acceptability from September 22, 1870, the date of incorporation of the Company, to the day of his death He was an active spirit in the formation of the Company and displayed a good deal of tact in bringing about this satisfactory result. But to Charles, among the pleasantest duties in this memorable year were personal attention given to the improvements and altera- tions to the house of which he was so soon to be ♦;he head. The family had vacated the home during the summer, and removed to the old homestead, where they temporarily resided until their departure from Newcastle. On the 12th day of October Charles was married to Miss Jessie Fremont Arnold, third daughter of Hiram Arnold, Esq., of Kalor The ceremonies took place at " Brookside," the CO pal I raazoo, Mich. 11 [>le service to ' 'le occupied tlie time of P, 'nit it was f'lily made a |>tlier points, fles was not pusiness and i.i^rossed the l'(*altli, and I'is a cliaiK/e "or rejuoval. idly-growing Tty in fliiit ersant witJi sre sufficient liate respon- best results pita] in the aine of The i Presid«^nt, s filled this '0, the date He was lisplayed a memorable md altera- rhe family to tlie old t'ture from iss Jessie of Kala- ide," the residence of the bride's father, the Rev. W. H. Watts, of the Epis- copal Church, officiating The young couple made a brief wedding tour, visiting Detroit and Cleveland, and upon arrival at Newcastle J immediately began housekeeping in Charles' old home, which had % been thoroughly renovated and newly furnislied for their occupancy. Here the newly-wedded pair resided for nine years. In the year following (1871), Mr. H. A. Massey and family removed to Cleveland, , Ohio, and were soon comfortably quartered in their newly-erected home. Charles was now sole representative of the family at New- castle, and stood at the helm of affairs like an old veteran. The far- 1 seeing enterprise of the young manager was soon set in motion, and enlargement, advance, increase and extension of the business were his i life- song. Past attainments and present growth were never liis full f satisfaction — he was ever reaching out after something greater. In the course of time a more extended system of agencies was estab- lished, more hands were employed, and the business generally augmented. The house and the factory were near together, and distance was no barrier to Charles' spending long hours at the office. This was also an acceptable convenience to the young wife, enabling her to communicate urgent messages at ease, and to the devoted husband, giving him the pleasure of going in and out of home at leisure. On the 16th of October, 1871, came the first-born child to the youthful pair. But it did not bring the usual joy to the home, because of its brief stay and the accompanying peril of the mother. Baby Eugene Arnold Massey lived till the following day, and its spirit departed. The loss of the little one was materially softened by the relief experienced in the safe recovery of the mother. Early in the year 1872, Charles and wife made their first visit to the family in Cleveland. This was always an enjoyable rest* though comparatively brief, and was usually coupled in with a trip to Kalamazoo at the same time. These family reuni ins at Cleveland and Kalamazoo were substantially the only times of relief from busi- ness care that Charles enjoyed during his management of afl'airs, extending over a period of thirteen years. During this time these visits were made to the families about every year and a half. On the 27th of November in this year (1872) the first-born sur- viving child, a girl, was born. There was great joy over the new 12 arrival, and ihe growth of the little mite of humanity was wat( lied with interest. From the fondness which Charles had always shown for children, it was easy to imagine the love he would liave for his own, and Winona Grace was her father's joy. It used to be his de- light to play with his bahy l)rothers and enter heartily into tlioir frolics. When the youngest brother was passing through babylioou amid great afflictions, he, at one time in the absence of others, had some responsibility regarding the little sufferer, and looked after his interests with loving care. In the summer of 1873, Charles' faithful mother was taken very seriously ill at his own home. For days the brittlw thread of life seemed near its breaking, and weeks rolled by before the loving parent regained her health. Through all this trying illness the noble son Charles gave every attention to the comfort of his mother, and by his devotion reminded her more and more of his worth. At this time also his only child Winnie was laid low. It was a heavy stroke and an anxious tiii>e to Charles, but he bowed with heroic submission to the Divine will. The breath of life was weU-nigh gone from the little one when she seemed miraculously to come back to loved ones again- Early in the following year (1874) the little family circle was again enlarged by the birth of Master Arthur Lyman on the 6th day of February. The oldest boy is always a matter of interest to any household, and Arthur certainly had his share. In the choice of his second name an old and tried friend and neighbour was remembered. Next came Jennie Louise, who favored earth with her debut on September 18, IS?."), just near enough to Arthur for close companion- ship, and to enjoy her brother's courtesies and gallantry in after life. It was now five years since the organization of the Company, and the success of the new regime was fully assured. The business had increased 50 per cent., and its growth was solid and healthy. Every appliance, extension, or help that could be introduced was readily seized upon by the young manager, and his unbounded hopes were never blighted. At this time the manufacture of a superior Sulky Horse-Rake was begun, which proved a brilliant success. The merits of the im- plement had been brought to Charles' notice, and readily discerning its value, he discarded an old one they were making, and zealously pushed the manufacture and sale of the new rake. The scheme was 13 ^&a watched hvays shown jiave for his po be Jiis (le- into tlioir |h bahyhooa others, had ced after his taken very i<"ul of life >ving parent noble son and by his It this time stroke and bniission to )ni the little ones again- e was again 6th day of rest to any boice of his emembered. r debut on companion- n after life, iipany, and iisiness had ly. Every I'as readily lopes were [orse-Rake 3f the im- discerning I zealously ;heme was peculiarly a child of his own, and the prosperity that accompanied it always furnislied him great interest and delight. He saw the sale of the article rapidly increase, until its production reached the gratifying figure of four thousand annually. In the year 1877, Washington's birthday was celebrated in the birth of another girl. It bid fair for a good race in life, but, like her first-born brother, her stay among mortals was short, and the spirit took its flight on the 1 5th of March. But it also had a name ; and Georgie Marie, so soon gone, was not forgotten. About tills time, Cliarles occupied a seat in the village council for one term, and was, perhaps, the youngest candidate ever elected to that office. In the summer of 1S78 — two members of their fainily being absent in Europe — the father and mother made a lengthened visit to Newcastle. Summer was always a busy time, and the presence of the father was made good use of to great advantage. From the time of the incorporation of the Company, however, Mr. H. A. Massey had little or nothing to do with the management of the business more than to give counsel and advice. Charles was continually on hand with some new enterprise in the way of an "enlargement or extension of the buildings, or introduction of some new appliance or machine. This went on until quite a considerable pile had been reared j the last of these, a commodious storehouse, with convenient offices, etc., was erected only one year previous to removal. These new plans, before inauguration, were always ably and urgently presented to the father for approval. He could not always at first see the wisdum of the move, but his admiration for the business skill and energy of his son was too much for him to give a negative answer. It is to the credit and honor of Charles to say that scarcely one of these enter- prises proved unsuccessful. In the year 1879, the amount of business done was double that of the first year of the incorporation of the Company. To accomplish this scale of operations in so small a village as Newcastle was accom- panied with a vast deal of inconvenience, and to further increase was quite out of the question. Consequently arrangements were made for removal : property was purchased in the City of Toronto, and new buildings erected thereupon, the latter being under the personal supervision of Mr. H. A. Massey. In the fall of this year (1879), 14 the entire estalilishment was removed to Toronto, and Charles and family likewis*; became residents of the Queen City. The change was a gratifying one, adding to the ambitions of ever- hopeful Charles, and opening to him a wider sphere, while at the same time greatly increasing his cai'es and responsibilities. The growth of the business continued rapidly, and the wisdom of the re- moval was everywhere apparent. On the r)tli day of August, 1880, the new home, No. 1 Clarence Square, was favored with the arrival of a new-born child, who was afterwards honored with his father's name, and Chai'les Albert Massey, jun., made his presence felt in the family circle. The little fellow had uphill work to live at first, but weathered the storms of infant life, and " Bertie " became a rollicking boy. While Charles was so absorbed in business, he was never forgetful of the interests of his family. He was as much a family- man as a business-man. He felt like a king when his wife and children were gathered about him. He entered heartily into the games of the little ones, and delighted in their amusements. They grew in his affections, and every attainment shown gave him added joy. As a liusband his devotion was equally great, with a love, thoughtful care, and indulgence wholly unlimited. His honeymoon was never over — he had a love which never waned. What joy is afforded in the home with such affection at its head ! Whatever pleasures Charles had his family shared in them, and to contribute to their comfort and pleasure was his constant aim. It was always a great cross to him when called away from home, and obliged to go without wife or children. He was never seen without them when it was practicable for them to be with him. His seventh and youngest child, little Bessie Irene, was born Aug. 3rd, 1881. This was also a memorable year in a business way — the right, interest, and good-will of a leading rival concern in the city was purchased and the two establishments amalgamated. Here, again, the far-seeing skill and energy of Charles were brought into play, and his hopes and ambitions were fanned to a white heat. This scheme resulted in continued enlargement of the premises, increase in the number of men employed, and doubling the business for the following year. A new department of manufacture was added, the office staff increased, and things were done on a broader scale. i But it ? Charles ( )■ period f 3 viously, ; the adv€ ] justing < ; and sale I to the ii ij sometin ; 100 to 1 I quently ■f yet th( ; busy ai '; In t I family residen Mr. M i maladj ■ ness fi ; Heth i couns€ i affecti i notice I until i how • so ne ] restor was r ; recov busin ; ance ; of a tions f ever ^ who ' a ve "1 The i (187 16 ICharles and |ons of cver- ■'hile at the lilities. The |"i of tlic re- 1 Clarence (1, who was rles AlIxTt The little le storms of ver forgetful lymau as a lildren were ames of the grew in his joy. As a ightful care, lever over — at its head ! hem, and to lim. It was and obliged ithout them I born Aug. IS way — the in the city 3ere, again, o play, and 'his scheme !ase in the e followinj; office staff I But it is reasonable to conclude that the extra burdens assumed by Charles at this time were more than he could carry, and that from this period forward, there was an imperceptible decline in health. Pre viously, besides the general duties of manager, he had attended to all the advertising (at which he was an adept), engaging the men and ad- justing the wages, purchasing the stock, supeiintending the agencies and sales, and attending to the correspondence and Vjanking, in addition to the innumerable details constantly requiring attention. He would sometimes, in connection with his other duties, write as many as from 100 to 1.50 letters in a single day. From some of these duties he subse- quently gained relief, turning over portions of the work to others ; yet there was enough left for him to do to keep him more than busy and rack his brain from time of waking to sleep again. In the year following, 188l', the father, Mr. H. A. Massey, and family removed from Cleveland to Toronto, where they took up their residence. In the fall, before they were settled in their new home, Mr. Massey was taken ill, and four leading physicians pronounced his malady a fatal one. It was next to a bereavement — sorrow and sad- ness filled the home, and to Charles it was a heavy and terrible shock' He thought of what a loss was predicted, and how he would miss the counsels and guiding experience of his beloved father. The filial affection and watchful anxiety of noble Charles were beautiful to notice. But, thanks be to God, this anxiety was gradually lessened until the cloud finally disappeared. And now, as the past is reviewed, how wonderful it seems — the father, thought by the physicians to be so near death, began from that time to improve until health was restored, and in less than sixteen months strong and busy Charles was numbered among the dead. As soon as the father had sufficiently recovered his health, he entered into more active relations with the business, according to his motive in removal. It was a timely assist- ance to Charles, who was overtaxed with the cares and responsibilities of a rapidly-growing business. It was now the year 1883, and addi- tions, improvements, and extensions to the premises were made on every hand, affording a well-suited sphere of activities for the father, who gave personal supervision to these movements. The year was a very, very busy one, the greatest in the history of the concern. The amount of business done in the first year of Charles' management (1871) was $78,000 — it had now increased over tenfold, amounting to 16 one million dollars. This attainment was very gratifying to Charles, and one of which he might well be proud, but it made no ditfcrcm r in his bearing — he was always the same, a quiet and undemonstrative man. He was utterly void of conceit and despised it in others. His abilities, though great, were always depreciated by himself, and he was willing to learn from others. The whole bent of his thought and energy was to make the best possible success of the business to which he gave his life. He had a joy in bringing things to pass. Charles was never satisfied with small attainments ; if greater things were in his reach he was bound to accomplish them. While others were fal- tering and fearing over present advancements, he was entertaining greater plans ahead. He belonged to that class of men without which we would still be riding in stage-coaches and sailing vessels, instead of palace cars and ocean steamers. Such go-ahead itiveness is always valuable in public life, and Charles was solicited to serve as candidate for election to the Dominion Par- liament, but business demands were too great, and he therefore declined. It was a flattering tribute to the abilities of one so young. Charles' energies were absorbed in building up a great business, looking forward to a time wlken, in the full realization of his plans, he could enjoy the fruit of his labors, and devote himself and his I inty to the welfare of humanity. That day never came, he knew no rest on earth —he went out suddenly from the very heat of battle. In all the business activity of our friend he was moved by high motives — there was not a bit of selfishness in his whole career^ — the greatest enjoyment he obtained from life was in what he contributed to the happiness of others. He had an exceedingly active and enquiring mind, and was always on the alert to obtain what he could to better qualify him for the fulfilment of his plans. Frequently he would say to his wife, " I ought to spend two hours each day in reading." He had a thirst for knowledge, which increased as he grew older, and near the close of his life he was heard to say, " I would go to college now if I were situ- ated so that I could." In religious life the subject of these lines was extremely reticent and retired. He was religious more in life than in word, though, as he afterwards admitted, it was a great mistake not to publicly acknowledge his God. There was a good deal that was beautiful ill 17 L' to Cliaiios, |cliHeroii(c Jn Binonstrative 3tliers. Hig I, and he was Ithought find less to wliich fss. Cliarles lings weiv in ers were fal- entertaiiiiiig itJiout wliicli Is, instead of , and Charles sniinion Par- he tlieret'ore ne so young, eat business, his plans, he d liis I inty new no rest ittle. )ved by Jiigh career — the contributed was always him for the lis wife, " I a thirst for close of his were situ- ely reticent , though, as to publicly s beautiful ' beneath the; surface not brought to notice by utterance. He had nothing wliatcver in tlie way of cant about him. Charles never made the inconsistencies of others any excuse for defects in liimscdf. He had a liigii regard fcr true virtue, and never swerved from the Christian faith. It was a common thing for him to playfully disparage liis own virtues before others, and thereby misrepresent his real convictions. About a year after settling in Toronto, Cliarles and family became members of the congregation of the Metropolitan Church during the pastorate of Rev. John Potts, D.D. It was after some looking about this became their Church home, and the result was gratifying to Charles. His preference was for the Methodist Church in which he had been reared, and which he regarded above all the others. In June, 1882, Rev. Hugh Johnston, M.A., B.D. — a college mate and intimate personal friend of Cliarles' — was appointed pastor of the Metropolitan Church. The old-time acquaintance was renewed, and close, endearing friendship enjoyed. In the month of December of this year Charles and wife united with the Church. The father and his family were received by letter at the same time. It was a mem- orable day — the whole family, eight in all, standing at the communion rail and being welcomed into the Church. The event had been delayed on account of the illness of the father, and it was doubly joyful because of his being sufficiently recovered to be present, (^harle.s' connection with the Church was a step taken with mature deliberation and thought, after the matter had been carefully considered in all its bearings, As in everything he entered into, he counted the cost and measured the consequences. His long residence from the churcli prevented him from as frequent an attendance upon the services as he would had circumstances been more favorable. Still, his pew was seldom unoccupied at the Sabbath morning worship, and he was often seen at other gatherings of God's people ; nor was his presence unknown at the prayer-meetings. He had a warm intei'est in the movement for the organic union of the various branches of the Methodist Chui'ch in Canada, and rejoiced in its final success. The extremely close application of Cliarles to business gave him but ittle or no time for outside calls. It really took up too much of his time and attention and occupied so much of his thought that he could not leave his business at the office. Responsibilities grew upon him, and he could not see how to shake them oft'. This ceaseless 9 18 strain began to tell upon him, and it was self-evident that he niuHt take rest. When most business men are permitted to enjoy tlicir vacations — in the heat of summer — Charles' duti(!s required his most active presence. With the exception of a stay of about two wo(!ks at Chautauqua in August, 1882, he never enjoyed a rest from business in the heated term. In the month of Septemlter, 188^, after a trying and laliorious season's work, Charles, acconipanied by his wife, made a trip to the Province of Manitoba. While it was mainly for a change and rest, it was as much a business tour as one of pleasure. Chicago, St. Paul, and Kalamazoo were visited en route, and they went as far west as Brandon. It was the first visit Charles had made to the " Prairie Province," and it gave him great satisfaction to see the territory wheie alone more business was being done by the com- pany than they did throughout the Dominion a few years before. While in the parlor of the little hotel at Brandon a woman of this western country was present, and, observing who the party was, finally exclaimed : " And is this the great Mr. Massey who sends us the wonderful machines V to which Charles soberly and modestly replied that he manufactured machines and sent them into different parts of the country. But as soon as he got out of her sight he had a good laugh. On the return journey from Brandon to Winnipeg Charles was taken seriously ill, and unmistakable evidences were given that he had been working too hard. On reaching Winnipeg a physician was summoned who pronounced the case one of acute indigestion. The patient was unable to resume the journey homeward until the third day following, when they started for home, which tliey reached safely after an absence of nearly three weeks. Important business interests awaited diaries' consideration on his return, and he was at once as busy as ever. His pace was again slackened, however, by a return of the ailment which visited him while away — occurring the third week in October, about five weeks following the first attack. He was out again in a few days, but was considerably weakened. Cares multi- plied, and the strain was very heavy ; still nothing serious was appre- hended. Shortly after returning from the west Charles purchased a juore commodious residence in the eastern part of the city, near to that of his father, and removed there in the middle of November. This placed the family within reach of better school advantages, and If) Kit ilO ?riU8t I'll joy thoir 'fl Ins most weeks at 'm busiuoss tor a trying wife, made lainly for a of pleasure. pe, and tliey 's liatl made 'tion to see >y the com- iu's before, iiian of this was, finally iends us the Bstly replied n\t parts of 5 had a good Charles was that he liad Ksician was stion. The il the third iched safely iss interests at once as a return of third week Se was out ares multi- was appre- urcJiased a ty, near to ember, itages, and brought them nearer to the churcli. Althougli it fell to the lot of Charles to enjoy his ntnv Iiouk; but a short time, he derived great happiness from it — it furnished him increasing satisfaction to provide added comforts and convciniiiuees for his loved ones, for whom no sacrifice on his part was too great. Just before his removal he liad a third attack of indigestion, but slighter than the previous ones. Th(!se periods of indisposition were overcome and health was im- proved. Still, entire rest from business for a time was tln' thing needed. How could this be obtained 1 A man wlio had always enjoyed good healtli was not easily persuaded to turn his attention to physical recuperation ; it was not easy to break away from a business of wliich lie had been so long the manager, and removing to and settling in a new home made health-seeking all the more difficult. Charles continued at the helm of affairs, giving all the attention that strength would permit. The crowning act of his life was the thoughtful, energetic projectwhichgave rise to the erection of a spacious office building, which included a library, reading-room, and public hall, for the special use of the employees. He had a sympathetic regard for all those who labored under him, and delighted in doing what he could for their comfort and well-being. It was always a joy to him to increase the wages of a worthy servant and promote those who merited advance. Cliarles had a remarkable faculty for managing men, and was a good judge of human nature; but his greatest force was a winning personality, which often kept men about him when they had strong inducements to go elsewhere. The new year 188i opened auspiciously; but two weeks had not rolled around when our beloved friend was laid up for a few days with an attack of pleurisy. This over, he was back to work again; but only for a few days — his hours of business were near to a close. No one could feel that his work was so nearly done ; later plans were not fully completed. Still, busy, unwavering, ever-hopeful Charles accomplished a life-work before he reached his thircy-sixth birthday, and lived to see the estab- lishment with which he was connected stand at the head of all similar concerns in the Dominion, and possessed with elaborate appointments and equipments. On the 26th day of January he felt a severe cold coming upon him, though he remained at the office till ■MM 111 20 late in the day, remarking as he went liotne that he should have returned earlier. On the following day (Sunday) he attended divine service as usual, but was not in the right condition to go out. It was his last visit to the sanctuary — never again did he enter its doors or hear the blessed Word pi-oclaimed from the sacred desk. It was a greater privilege to him than ever to occupy his place in the churcli, and it was fitting tiiat his last attendance was made with sacrifice. He had gained a growing interest in hearing and reading divine truth. But no one realized how soon this ripening experience was to reap its reward. On the following Monday, January 2f^th, the subject of these lines made his final visit to the office. He was far from we!', and his wife wislied him to remain at home, but he replied that he would be as well at the ofllice as at the house, and went as usual to his place of business. He returned home in the evening, after a hard day's work, never again to look upon the scenes of his ceaseless activity. The next day he did not leave his room. Believing that he had nothing more than a severe cold he had determined to drive it oflP without medical aid, supposing this could be done by complete rest. But the rest of the family could not be persuaded that this was sufficient, and finally succeeded, late in the afternoon, in his allowing the family phy- sician to be called. The first diagnosis was that the patient was suffer- ing from a very hard cold — a day r two followed and remittent fever was tliought to be the trouble. The symptoms became more and more serious and it was difficult to determine what the malady really was. About the fourth day it was thought that a slow fever was the difti- culty, but in a dpy or so unmistakable evidence was given that tlu^ case was one of typhoid fever. To recount all the pains, anxieties, and sorrows that followed would furnish a sad, sad, story. The extreme suffering, the weary watch'.ng, and the terrible suspense can only be understood by those who have passed through a similar trial. Al though the exact duration of the illness was short, the strain was long and heavv. All that mortals could do to save life was done, but all to no avail — death came as an inevitable result. It was an entirely new ordeal to the patient, for he had never been seriously ill, yet he was very heroic, and made a brave battle for life. His sufi'erings were extreme — there was the agonizing cough, the reliefless pains, tlie parched mouth and throat, congestion of the stomach and intense was I I Jliould have jKled divine |ut. It was |ts doors Gi- lt was a I the church, Ith sacrifice. Iling divine jence was to these linos Lud his wife ■ould be as lis place of day's work, ivity. The lad nothinir off" without t. But the flicient, and family j)hy- ; was suffer- itteut fever •e and more really was. as the diffi- iii that the xieties, and he extreme !an only be trial. Al- ii was long •ne, but all in entirely ill, yet he sufferings pains, the id intense :i 21 weakness. These, however, were all being successfully treated, and on the evening preceding the fatal day he was in the best condition of any time during his illness. But on Tuesday, the 12th day of February, the death angel came, and the struggle was over. At ten o'clock on that day hemorrhage of the bowels set in and finished its terrible work at about five o'clock in the afternoon. What a day it was ! Like a rushing torrent came such a period of breathless anxiety, such a multitude of fears and doubts, such sorrow and sad- ness as cannot easily be described. Loved ones and friends were quickly summoned, and the way to the house seemed so long. Physi- cians were speedily called to the bedside, and all was done that loving hands could do, but the life-blood was fast ebbing away. As soon as the hemorrhage was discovered, the foot of the bed was raised in order to preserve life as long as possible. In this trying position the patient sufferer remained till he ceased to live. As the pulse grew weaker and weaker, and when hope had almost vanished, the attending phy- sicians, as a last resort, tried the transfusion of blood — a tedious and delicate operation, and all to no avail. The blood coagulated and would not run — a quantity of milk was then introduced into the veins but without effect. As soon as the surgeon's task was performed, deaLh was noticeably at hand, and in a few short minutes the spirit of the loved one departed. The stparation was so calm and quiet that it was difficult to determine just when breathing ceased. But death with all its terri'ole stillness had come — the light of the home had gone out. The wide-spread sorrow awakened by the early demise of so prominent, youthful, and active a career can be readily under- stood by all who knew the departed. Expressions of sympathy were heard on every hand, and scores of letters and telegrams of condolence were received. The life of our brother was so promising, and his illness so brief, that the news of his death was a great shock to most people — why such a life should be so suddenly cut short was hidden in deep mystery. From the store, the ofHce, the factory, and the farm came the sad exclamation, "What a loss!" A loss to the country, to the city, to business circles, and to society. Strong-hearted busi- ness men and sturdy workmen wept because "Charley" was gone. A sorrow so deep and so general is not frequent. The vacancy in the business where our friend had so long been the head can readily be appreciated. What will be the result? was the question that would 22 naturally arise. To many a personal tie had been severed. Here and there was heard the expression, " He was like a brother to me." ]{ut when we speak of loss, that sustained by his beloved family will be remembered above all the rest. A young wife and five children feel the painful absence of an indulgent and loving protector as none but the widow and fatherless can. There is Winona Grace — a bright, womanly girl of eleven sumnuTs; Arthur Lyman — a thoughtful, industrious boy who reached his tenth birthday during his father's illness : Jennie Louise — motherly and wise — eight years of age; Charles AU)ert, who beais his father's name — a precocious, active boy of three and a half years : and Bessie Irene — the baby darling, two years and six months old. The manner in which these younger ones have missed their dear papa is quite remarkable. Master Bertie does not forget the sad scenes connected with his father's funeral, and has painful recollections of his loss. On one occasion he stood with his mamma in the reception-room, where the loved one had lain in the casket weeks before, when he exclaimed to her : " Don't stay here ! Come out, mamma. Papa dead here all the time." He thinks his papa is m every funeral he sees. At another time, Bertie and Bessie entered the room where the crayon portrait presented by the employees had been placed, and the moment they saw it their faces gleamed with delight, their joy was exuberant, and, recognizing the likeness of their darling papa, they gave vent to their ecstasy in rapturous exclamations and wanted to embrace the picture. Little Bertie talks of his papa with great seriousness, and longs to go where he is. One day, while rummaging about the house, he happened to come across his papa's overshoes, and picking them up, with delight and astonishment he ran to his mamma and shouted : " Mamma, mamma ! piipa left his overshoes ! Papa left his overshoes ! " and so great was his feeling that he kissed them. Thus were the little ones afiected by the loss of their dear papa. Tlx^ thought gathers sadness as one thinks of the young household bereft of its devoted head. The human heart falls back on God's promised care of the widow and fatherless, and His sufficiency to prepare believing souls for the trying separation. Through the entire illness of beloved Charles, God was manifestly with him. There was a firm m mgs. 1 Here and me." But lily will be l^liiklren feel I as none but 3n sumniors; reached liis -niotherly his father's and Bessie I their dear get the sad recollections mnia in the asket weeks Come out, 5 papa is m n where the ced, and the leir joy was ; papa, they i wanted to 1 lon^s to go le happened vith delight "Mamma, s ■' " and so papa. The lold bereft s promised to prepare tire illness was a firm 23 reliance upon the Divine arm, and a calm, patient resignation. The self-forgetfulness and interest in others which had characterized him in health was strongly exhibited in the sick-room amid all his suffer- ings. He was constantly uging his attendants to go out and take the air, and was fearful their tireless efforts for his comfort might bring them down. An instance of destitution in the family of .^ne in his employ came to his notice, and he seemed for the time to lose sight of his own condition in his deep concern for their welfare. During his illness fervent prayer ascended from every altar that life might be spared. He was told how a little band of workmen had gathered in the cottage prayer-meeting and made his recovery their earnest supplication. The account of such affection and interest brought tears to his eyes, and he exclaimed, " Everybody is so kind to me, and I am not wortky of it." To contribute to the happiness of such a soul is at once a privilege and a delight. Amid the weary hours of watching and waiting, Charles was blessed with the sweet counsels and frequent visits of his old friend and beloved pastor. Rev. Hugh Johnston. The smiles and good cheer brought into the sick-room by this messenger of peace and salvation were a great benediction to the suffering friend. The faithful pastor was most attentive in his ministrations, and was at the bedside of his loved friend during the dying hour. What a wondrous scene was that when the last victory was won, and death was swallowed up in life. We would pause and recount the graces and triumphs of that afternoon. How hallowed are its meinories — it was a fitting climax to an honored life. It was not like a death scene — it was a solemn leave-taking. Sorrowful and sad were those who remained, but the departing one was so happy — his face was radiant, it was glorified. The king of terrors was robbed of its sting ; the Christian faith had banished every fear. It was a wonderful triumph — the loved one was never so well situated and fitted to live as now when he is suddenly called to surrender life and all, which he does without the least murmur. Although so young and life had so much promise — promise in business, in the family, in the church and in society, still all was yielded up to God, and he exclaimed " I have no desire to live," and at another time " I am going home to Jesus if He wants to take me." The voice which had been for days so weak was now strong and I 24 distinct, the mind as clear as ever, and the beloved sufferer talked about approaching death as calmly and deliberately as though he were only about to take a journey. Heaven was near at hand — he seemed in part already there, and frequently testified to the joyous presence of his dear Savioui. Iiove, sacrifice and the pre- sence of the Master were supreme. There was nothing but love for all — for each one that came to his bedside there was a word of tenderest affection. Though the probabilities were all against life, there was one chance in a thousand that the patient might re- cover. It did still seem as though he must get better, and prayers, and sol)S, and hopes and fears were sadly intermingled. The father who had so delighted in the successes and accomplishments of his son, exclaimed to him, ♦' I would rather go than see you go, Charley," to which he replied, " It is just like you, father." To his beloved mother, who had made so many sacrifices for her dear boy, he said, " You have been one of the best of mothers." Her constant, watchful care for him was now beautifully reflected in his triumphant faith. When the moment of parting came he .said, "Good-b;ye, mother." The dear one was borne up with divine support. Although forced to lie in a position so uncomfortable, and suffering from shortness of breath, and kindred ailments, and amid such surrounding sorrow he was verily happy. Speaking with gratitiule and great calmness he said, " I had anticipated this, but never thought there was so much happiness on a dying bed." The hour was replete with blessed testimonies, counsels and mes- sages of love. The mind that was always so ready to grasp the situa- tion was as clear as ever now, and after a pause he uttered the words, "My poor wife." She came to the dying couch, weighed down with grief, to talk for the last time with her devoted husband. She could not bear to entertain the thought that he was dying, though the life- blood was going, and said to him, "Perhaps it will run back again,'' to which he replied, " No, it cannot." " You hold up your arm and it won't run up." To which he added, " Hoping against hope. It is so natural to hope. How selfish is life." The heart-broken wife could not think of giving him up, and exclaimed to him, " Oh ! God won't take you; you must get well." To which the loved companion replied, " Don't deceive yourself, Jessie. I would like to live for you and the children's sake, but if the Lord wants me I am ready to go.'' sayi ■'Bi ferer talked as though loar at liand tified to the 111 id the pre- |ng but love Is a word of [against life, might re- nd prayers, The father leuts of his :o, Charley," is beloved L>oy, he said, 5r constant, i triumphant ye, mother." gh forced to shortness of g sorrow lie at calmness vas so much Is and mes- P the situa- the words, down with Siie could ?h tJie life- ick again,'' arm and it ape. It is oken wife ' Oil ! God companion ^e for you dy to go.'' 25 As the loved ones stood al)0ut him he thought of one of his three , brothers who was not present. Being a long distance from home, at ■^college, it was impossible for liim to return in time to see beloved Charles alive again. The dying one did not forget him, and said to the others, " Dear Walter, poor boy, tell him 1 love him." To his loved sister who stood by he also said, "Sweetest, most loving sister. Faithful sister." As a neighbour and old friend approached him he said to her, " Oh ! I am so happy." When asked how long he had felt that Jesus was precious, he answered, "Some little time." At onetime, as he scanned the mercies of God and his present joys, and reviewing the past, he exclaimed, " I have made a great mistake in life in not publicly acknowledging my God." How much there was crowded into a short space that memorable afternoon. All were so anxious to catch every word that fell from the lips of the dying sufferer. The faithful pastor. Rev. Hugh John- ston, was there ; and, his face lighting up as he saw the joyful preparations of his loved friend, Charles said to him, " Smile on, Hugh ; smile on." After conversing freely with 'different ones he expressed a desire to see his children, and the three eldest were brought to his bed-side. It was an affecting scene to see a dying father bidding farewell to the weep- ing little ones. He gave them advice regarding the study of the Bible and attendance upon Sunday school, and committed his five children and their young mother to the care of his own father and mother. A little while afterwards he called for the two youngest children) saying, "I want to see my babies." They were speedily brought to the room, and Bertie and Bessie kissed their dear papa for the last time. The sands of life were running quickly out, the pulse was growing feebler, and the physicians, anxious to leave nothing undone to save life, resorted to the transfusion of blood. The heroic patient sub- mitted to it more as a sacrifice, that the loved ones might be assured that everything was done that could be to save life, than because he had any faith in it himself. It was a most trying, wearying experi" ence to the suffering loved one. Towards the last, when the struggle was nearly over, as though he were being held to earth, he exclaimed, 26 "Why don't those doctors let ine goV Their fruitless task was per- formed, and soon his spirit passed away. Man could not hold what God liad called. Calmly, quickly, and quietly life went out, and Charles was not, for God took him. Beloved, we will not call thee dead— we bid thee good night; and in the bright beyond, we will hail thee with a glad " Good morning." fife isx mum imt i By a Youthful Friend. [Composed with reference to the dying hour of Mr. C. A. Massey.] I CAN hear the casement rattle In the chilly winter blast ; Listen to the tempest, Jessie, Of my earthly storms the last ! I am dying, Jessie, dying, Though my youth is not yet past ; We must part, but not forever : Dearest ! life is ebbing fast. Love will never cease at death, love : I will ever think of thee ; And, amid the cares of life, love, Wilt thou sometimes think of me 1 In that life that knows no ending— In that joy beyond the t-mb, We shall meet to part no more, love ! I can wait till thou art come. ss task was per- s d not hold what went out, and t ;ood night; and, Good nior ning. Massey.] 27 Do not weep because we part, love ; For our children's sake be strong ; Brave misfortune, bear affliction- Sorrow cannot last for long. Now my eyes are dark'ning, Jessie ; By death's swift, black stream I stand, Like Jehovah's people chosen, Pressing toward the promised land. Hush ! I hear angelic music, Death's bright angel now is nigh ; Fare-thee-well, my own true loved one— Never mourn that I should die ! I can hear the angels calling ; Feel them touch my fevered brow. Do you hear them 1 Can you see them 1 Darling ! I am dying now. Down into ray heart is sinking, Peace that cometh from above ; Silence all thy heart's vain longings- Death takes me, but not my love ! ©bBequiciJ. On Thursday, February 14th, loving hearts and kind friends con- veyed to the tomb all that was mortal of our beloved friend. Sadness multiplied as tlic hour grew near when the beautiful face of the departed must be finally closed from view. He seemed ))ut quietly sweeping as he lay in the casket completely surrounded with choice flowers. At one o'clock the family and immediate friends and relatives assembled at the late residence of the deceased. No. 391 Jarvis Street. Among them were George B. Massey of Watertown, N.Y.; George R. Phelps, Gloversville, Fulton Co., N.Y.; O. W. Powell, Cobourg, Ont.; W. L. Payne and wife, Colborne, Ont.; and Mrs. Henry Beatty, Tliorold, Ont. Fervent and sympathetic prayer was ottered by Rev. Hugh Johnston, the pastor, and the body placed in a hearse, which was followed by the mournful company to the Metropolitan Methodist Church, where the funeral services proper were held. The employees of The Massey Manufacturing Company having formed in a body at the factory, marched to the cliurch and occupied pews which had been reserved for them. A very large number of the citzens, and friends of the deceased were also assembled to pay their last tribute of respect. As the casket was borne up the aisle, the pastor preceded, reciting from the ritual of the Church, while plaintive strains pealed forth from the organ. * Immediately within the communion rail were placed the floral emblems. Among them was a large handsome shield, bearing the words, " Employer, Friend, we mourn for thee," an offering from the employees of the Company, and from the same warm hearts a chaste broken column. There was also a floral pillow with the words, " We shall miss thee," in purple immortelles, from the oflice staft'. In ad- dition to tliese there were a number of other choice designs from in- timate friends. The pulpit was appropriately draped in mourning. fl friends con- end. beautiful face seemed hut rounded with and relatives Jarvis Street. ^.Y.; George ell, Cobour;,', [enry Beatty, ered by Rov. hearse, which an Methodist 29 At the close of the services, which are noted below, an opportunity Iras given for all present to take the last look at the departed. The day had been cloudy, but suddenly the sun poured forth its rays upon tiie scene, reflecting as it were the smiling peaceful countenance of the deceased. The solemn tones of the organ, and the sobs and sorrows of the large audience as they filed by the casket made an impression on every mind not soon to be forgotten. As the workmen retired from the building a double column was formed between the church and the hearse, through which our deceased friend was carried by the pall-bearers : H. S. Northrop, John Lyman, Mark H. Irish, S. S. Martin, Matthew Garvin and W. F. Johnston. The long and mournful cortege was formed and proceeded to Mount Pleasant Cemetery. The day was very cold, but the number formed in the sad escort was large. The employees walked in advance of the sad procession, and upon reaching the cemetery again formed into double column, the loved one's remains being carried through and deposited in the public vault. The last offices of respect were shown, the pastor read the concluding portion of the impressive burial service of the Methodist Church, and the mournful company retired. ij^any havint; and occupied umber of the to pay their ided, reciting pealed forth 3d the floral bearing the ng from the irts a chaste tvords, "We ;afl^. In ad- fns from in- nourning. ^mim at the (t\nm\x. The exercises for the dead commenced with the reading of the Scriptures by Rev. E. H. Dewart, D.D., Editor of the Christian Guardian, who read the 90th Psalm and from the 15th chapter of 1st Corinthians, beginning at the 26th verse. Hymn No. 843, was then sung : — Why do we mourn departing friends. Or shake at death's alarms ? 'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends, To call them to his arms. The graves of all his saiiits he blessed, A.nd softened every bed ; Where should the dying members rest, But with their dying Head ? 80 Thenco he arose, ivscentliiif? high, And allowed our feet tlie way ; Up to the Lord our tlesh shall fly, At the great rising-day. Then let the last loud trumpet sound. And bid our kindred rise ; Awake, ye nations under ground ; Ye saints, ascend the skies. After the singing, prayer was offered by Rev. W. H. Withrow, D.D., Editor of the Methodist Magazine, in those words : " O Lord, in in this our great trouble, our heavy attliction, we come unto Thee for grace and strength. We come unto Thee, O Lord, because Thou, and Thou alone, hast the words of everlasting life. We thank Thee for those words of life, those words of healing, those words of comfort, whereby we may be saved. Speak to our hearts, now, those words of benediction and healing, and lift us up and make us strong. We thank Thee, O God, that in Thy Holy Word, by the writings of Thy apostles and prophets. Thou hast thrown aside the veil which hides the future from our hearts, and revealed a new heaven and a new earth unto us, wherein dwelleth righteousness. We bless Thee, that thou hast given us a revelation of that land where ' they hunger no more neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light on them, nor anv heat, for the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of water; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.' We thank Thee, God, that in the solemn presence of death we feel that that heavenly land is not a region vague, far off, and indistinct, but one that is near unto us, and clear unto our view ; that it is ' a city which hath founda- tions, whose builder and maker is God.' We thank Thee that we have been made to know that heaven is an eternal verity, an everlasting reality, and that it is the home of those whom Thou callest to Thyself from a world of trouble. We thank Thee that Thou hast said, ' In my Father's house are many mansions ; I go to prepare a place for you ; and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto Myself.' We pray Thee, by Thy grace and good spirit to prepare our hearts for that blessed place on high which He hath gone to prepare for us. We know it is only they who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, 31 H. Withrow, " O Lord, in unto Thee for luse Thou, and Iiaiik Tliee tor ■ds of comfort, those words of ng. We thank tings of Thy il which hides sn and a new less Thee, that ley hunger no ight on them, e throne shall >f water; and hank Thee, that heavenly e that is near hath founda- ) that we have m everlastinsr 3st to Thyself ast said, * In 3 a place for ae again and .ce and good jh which He By who have •f the Lamb, ho shall walk witli robes of white on high. We pray Thee to grant all of us assembled here to-day, grace so to walk in robes of white m earth, that we may be found worthy of them hereafter. May we learn to sing the song of Moses and the Lamb on eartli that we Inay be found worthy, with nobler powers and loftier faculties in the fjworld without end, to sing the song of Moses and the Lamb on high. ^We thank Thee for the consolations of Thy Christ, tor the holy hopes ;'C|beyond this world, of the world to come. We pray Thee, in this :«olemn hour of death, to strengthen and confirm those hopes, and to enai/le us to lay hold upon God as we never have laid hold of Him and His holy promises before. We pray Thee, O God, that this solenni dispensation of Thy providence may be blest to the spiritual welfare ; of all who are here present. Thy ways, O Lord, are past finding out, if and in the unbelief of our hearts we cry out, ' Lord, what doest Thou \ unto me 1 ' and Thou sayest, ' What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.' Thy ways seem very strange unto us. Thou hast taken to Thyself one whose life was very useful in this , world ; Thou hast taken him away while yet his work seemed not fully done. His sun has gone down at noon. But we would meekly bow to Thee, and say, ' It is the Lord, let Him do what seemeth to Him good,' and enable thou, whose hearts are stricken, to say, 'Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him!' We thank Thee '.. that Thou didst enable him to live a Christian life before men ; ■ that Thou didst enable him to be useful to his fellow-men, and 1 to be useful in this world. And now that Thou hast called him I from labour to rest, ^ve glorify Thee, O Christ, in that Thou didst enable him to triumph in the hour of death, and to feel that he could lay hold upon the hope of sitting before the Lamb. We pray Thee, especially, to lift up those hearts that are bowed down, and to comfort those that mourn. We commit the body to the grave with the sure and certain hope of a glorious i*esurrection to the life that is undying, to the joy that is unending, to the blessedness that is without alloy, in the kingdom of heaven. Help us, O God, who are now bowed down before Thee in this place, to do so all through our daj's that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom, unto that only true wisdom, the fear of the Lord, and depart from iniquity, which alone is under- standing. In the solemn presence of death, may we make a vow and covenant to live in the fulness of our life to Thee. Make us to see ^HBan m :i2 that which Thou wouUlst have us to do, and give us grace of lieart to do it. May wo walk very carefully, very reverently, and very cir- cumspectly heforc! Thee. (Jive us grace of heart so to walk before Thee all the days of our life that w(f may come at last to Thine eternal joy. We especially ask this of Thee, now when we are stricken with sorrow. Do Thou, O Lord, sustain those who have been bereaved witli the promises given to us by Him who says : * Come unto me all yt* that labour and are heavy laden and 1 will give you rest.' May Thy holy promises give more and more comfort to them in this their hour of Ijercaveineiit and sorrow. In the darkness of their troubl' may the promises given by God shine out clearer and clearer. Solemnize all our hearts and minds, O God. Bless this dis- pensation of Thy providence, and make it a blessing unto each of us, that in the world to conu! we may have everlasting life. Hear these our supplications, O Lord, for Jesus Christ's sake, our Mediator and Redeemer. Amkn." The following beautiful address was then delivered by the Rev. Hugh Johnston, M.A., B.D., Pastor of the Metropolitan Church, of which the deceased was a member. 3^rtrtrf$$ of iacu. fiu^U ^johnsiton. We are making another pilgrimage to the grave's mouth. We stand once more in the presence of death. Our beloved brother sleepeth the last long sleep. He has exchanged earth for heaven ; he has exchanged mortality for immortality He has departed to be with Christ, which is far better. In his own home, so recently entered, surrounded by dear ones who never wearied in their devo- tion to him ; by kind nurses, constant in their watches ; by phy. sicians, who expended all their skill in their efforts to preserve his life ; by his wife, whom lie loved with so strong and tender an affec- tion ; by his little children, dear to him as his own life ; by parents, whose hearts he had never caused a pang ; by a cherished sister and dear brothers and friends, suddenly the last messenger came. But death did not find him unprepared, for with a simple, child-like faith he rested upon a loving Saviour, and calmly pillowing his head upon Jesus' bosom was enabled to fall asleep in Him. We give thanks to-day for the grace and mercy which sustained liiin at tlie last ; yet is the cup of tliaiiksgiving winged with sacMeiiiiig tears. Death is nearly olways veiled in mystery and draped in sadness ; hut there are elements of special sorrow in this dlHpensation of Uod's providence. Why was he tlius cut down iii mid-life — not an aged tree with bending limbs, but the young and thrifty uptorn from its roots! Why should one of our foremost busine^s men, in the very fulness of his life, bo taken away 1 Why siiould the husl oiul, tiie strong and vigorous man, the desin- of the eye, be taken away at a stroke ( Why should these little children be left fatherless] Why should he be removed] Ah! we know not from what dangers, what temptations, what trials of life he has been taken. We know not now, but we shall know hereaiter. That is enough, and so in resignation we close our lips, and in silence drop the tear. We cannot to-day, through our blinding tears, read this page in the book of Providence, but the light of the future shall dis- pel our gloom, and we shall catch the brightest views of His love, while — " Above the rest this note shall swell. Our Jesus hath done all things well." We are here, dear friends, to improve the lesson Providence is teach- ing us. Is this death premature? Is this life unfinished ] Is this beautiful floral representation of a column broken at n\id-height, a true emblem of his death 1 Is this life unfinished ? Charles IMassey has done the work that many have required a long life to accomplish ; and yet I never prayed harder for the life of any one than I did for his. But it could not be done. I loved him, and my place to-day is in heart with these mourners. We were college boys together. How he welcomed me when 1 came to this city ! What long and earnest conversations we had togellier ! I had the joy of receiving him into the Church and witnessing his deepening earnestness and zeal, and feeling that out of this new and blessed experience of Christ would come a higher usefulness in the Church of his atl'ection and choice. When 1 visited him in his sickness, how joyfully he received me ! He felt that death was coming ; but I always prayed for his recovery. I had thought of nothing else, and was looking forward to a rich spiritual blessing coming from this illness. On Tuesday afternoon, as I bent over him, I said " Charlie, are you 34 •I * trusting in Jesus ]" and he replied with a smile, "Yes, Hugh." "You are feeling perfectly safe?" I asked. "Oh, yes, I am so happy," he said. Still I could not give him up, and after praying to God that his life might be spared, I said: " You don't feel giieved at our praying so earnestly that you may be spared to your wife and family, your business, and your Charch?" ' Oh, no ! " he replied; " if spared, I would live for God alone ; but He knows best." And so, in trust and resignation he was permitted, without a protracted struggle, to pass away into the life that is immortal. He is safe and happy to day — far better, and safer, and happier than lie ever could V>e on this earth. Can we wish him back ? Would we call him back from his place before the throne ] His light has gone out here, but it has only been transferred to the many-mansioned house of the Eternal Father. Blessed consolation of the gospel ! What could we do witl-.out it 1 It tells us that he whom we r ourn, though dead unto us, is alive with Christ — though absent in the body, is present with the Lord. It tells us that he is not removed to any far dis- tance, but merely from one room into another. He says : " Next Sunday I shall be looking down upon you in Church." I cannot trust myself further to speak of the tender relation that existed between our departed friend and the family that is bereaved. God of the widow I comfort the stricken heart. Father of the fatherless ! take care of these little fatherless children. What a son he was, and what a brother, and what a friend ! And how kind and considerate a master ! I appeal to these hundreds of men that have wrought for him. What a bodyguard of affection do they present to-day, gathered around the grave of one they all loved. Dtar friends, I charge you, with this coiSn before you — with the day of judgment and eternity before you — that you live for God, for Heaven, anc< Tor immortality. God grant you at the last a simp'e trust in that blessed Redeemer who hath achieved o. victory over death, and opened the kingdom of Heaven to all believers. May you have such faith, such repentance, such trust in the promises of God as this our brother had, who has been called away ere yet his manhood's sun had reached high noon. As a pastor, I cannot but note with satisfaction an innovation on what has always seemed to me a heartless custom. There is no sex in grief; and why should women, whose love is tenderest, be denied sharing, as far as their strength will allow, the last sad rites which 35 we pay to the sacred dust? Rest, brother; loving, loved, rest! Thy battle is fought; thy rest is won; thy labour is o'er; thy ci-own obtained. May we who remain press onward to that shining world above where stands the ready Saviour to take us in. " Up to that world of light Take us, dear Saviour ; May we all there unite, Happy forever ; Where joys celestial thrill, Where bliss each lieart shall fill ; And fears, of parting chill, Never, no never." At the conclusion of the Rev, Mr. Johnston's address, the follow- ing hymn, No. 850, was sung, and the service was then brought to a close : — Shrinking from the cold hand of death, I soon shall gather up my feet ; Shall soon resign this fleeting breath, And die, my fathers' God to meet. Numbered among thy people, I Expect with joy thy face to see ; Because thou didst for sinners die, Jesus, in death remember me 1 O that without a lingering groan I may the welcome word receive ; My body with my charge lay down. And cease at once to work and live ! Walk with me through the dreadful shade. And, certified that thou art mine. My spirit, calm and undismayed, I shall into thy iian.ls resign. No anxious doubt, no guilty gloom. Shall damp wliom Jesus' presence cheers; My Light, my Life, my God is come, And glory in his face appf 'rs. -iimfw^ By Joliii B. Harris. [Lines suggested at the burial of Mr. C. A. Massey.] Beside the spot which holds thy clay We stood amid the wintry cold, And saw the tomb's dark doors unfold To hide thee from our sight away. In long, unbroken, silent lines. We watched the mournful cortege come, Which bore thee to thy lonely home Beneath the waving, murmuring pines. While each dark bough and tender stem, Clad ir. its glistening robe of snow. With cadence soft, and accent low, Sang plaintively thy requiem. And all their burden seemed to be The echo of our hearts alone ; In sad and muffled monotone — " Employer, Friend, we mourn for Thee !" We left thee to thy long, long rest. In that lone mansion of the dead. With sweet flowers strewn about thy head And garlands blooming on thy breast. And long within our hearts shall bloom — Sad memory ever fondly tend. The sweet forget-me-nots, O Friend I Which cluster round thy honored tomb. 37 We miss thee 'mid the ceaseless roar And din of quick-revolving wheels, And o'er our hearts dark sadness steals, RemeniL'ring thou shalt come no more. Soft be thy rest : sleep tranquilly, Though still our hearts in voiceless pain Keep beating on the sad refrain — " Employer, Friend, we mourn for Thee ! " p w ^ftcinovial ^cvbice. A large congregation assembled in the Metropolitan Methodist Church on Sunday morning, February 24th, attendant upon the ^Memorial Service to Charles A. JNIassey. The employees of The Massey Manufacturing Company were present in a body. The occasion was appropriate and impressive, reviewing the lessons of the hour and raising all hearts to the source of true consolation. The services were opened with a touching voluntary from the organ by Mr. Torrington, who played with great feeling "Come, ye discon- solate," speaking forth those comforting words: "Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal." Also, at the close of the service, as the congregation went from the church, Chopin's Funeral March was beautifully rendered upon the organ. During the oftertory the choir sang with great pathos the beautiful hynni, "Abide with me, fast falls the eventide." Following is the order of the services : — (No. 845) The nioming tlowerti display their sweets. And gay their silken leaves unfold. As careless of the noontide heats. As fearless of the evening cold. Nipt by the wind's unkindly blast, Parched by the sun's directer ray, The niomentiiry glories waste, The short-lived beauties die away. So blooms the human face divine, When youth its pride of beauty shows ; Fairer than spring tlie colours sliine, And sweeter than the virgin rose. 39 ethodist ipou tlie of The le lessons solation. he organ e discon- o sorrow e, as the irch was the choir fast falls Or worn by slowly rolling years, Or broke by sickness in a day, The fading glory disappears, The short-lived beauties die away. Yet these, new rising from the tond). With lustre brighter far shall shine ; Revive with ever-during bloom. Safe from diseases and decline. Let sickness blast, .and death devour. If heaven must recompense our pains ; Perish the grass, and fade the flower. If lirm the word of God remains. grayer. By the Rev. W. II. Withrow, D.D. " O Lord, from whom coineth all good desires and every good and perfect gift t ) man, we thank Thee that in Thy good provi- dence we are permitted, as many of us as are here assembled, to come into Thy presence and to call upon Thy name. We would recognize Thy goodness : we would remember Thy love : we would bow ourselves beneath Thy hand, and say, ' It is the Lord ; let Him do what seemeth to Him good.' We thank Thee, that though Thou art high and lifted up, yet Thou art with Him of a lowly and contrite heart; Thou dost look down from Thy thmne and listen to the cry of Thy humble followers here below. With more than a father's love — with more tlian a mother's tenderness — Thou dost yearn for all the souls Thou hast made. Thou appealeth to the deepest and tenderest and most sacred feelings of our nature, and doth say, ' If ye then being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your lieavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him V May we there- fore come as little children to a loving parent, and ask for the gift of the Holy Ghost — the Holy Sjjirit of God, which is able to Vjeget us unto true and perfect peace and unto full salvation. " We would confess, O God, our manifold offences and short- comings before Tiiee. We have erred and strayed from Thee like lost sheep. We liave done that which we ought not to have done 40 and liave left undone tliat wliich we ought to have done, and there is no good in us. Yet Thou, in Thy great mercy, art able to save unto the uttermost all who come unto Thee. We therefore com- mend them that are penitent to Thy favour and love : May they tliey bring fortli fruits meet for repentance O Lord, give us the spirit of true repentance of the heart, that we may lead a life that will glorify Thee on earth, and bring us at last to the eternal joy that waits those who do Thy will. "We would recognize Thy providence, O God, in all Thy dealings with us. Again and again, and yet again, hast Thou spoken to this congregation. To each one of us, again and again, on the threshold of this new year, hast Thou spoken loudly to our hearts. Let us recognize Thy boundless providence in our preservation. Let us feel that Thou hast spoken to our souls. ' He that hath an ear, let him hear.' In Thy holy word, O Christ, Thou dost represent Thyself as standing and knocking at the door of our hearts. Thou art knocking by Thy holy word — by repeated admonitions — by the still, small voice of conscience — by the Spirit of God Thou art speaking to our souls. Thou sayest, ' Behold, I stand at the door and knock ; if any man hear My voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me.' May our hearts be open to a recep- tion of the truth as it is in Christ Jesus ! Open Thou our hearts to an understanding of Thy word. Open Thou our lips and our mouth, that they may show forth Thy praise. Open Thou our eyes, that w^e may see the wondrous things out of Thy law ; and may we be so instructed and taught by Thy providence, O Christ, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. May we learn to number our days I May we realize that the fear of the Lord is truth, and that to depart from inicjuity is understanding ! " Grant to those more especially afflicted by beri„avement and the dispensations of Thy hand, the comforts and consolations of Thy grace. Thou dost not willingly afflict the children of men. Thou hast said, ' That no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but giievous ; nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.' May we all be exercised unto godliness by the sohnnn strokes of Thy hand, for we know that all things — no matter how untoward and disastrous they may seem — shall work together for good to them that love Thee. 41 there lo save |e coiD- ly they I us the Jte that (ml joy mlings We are called accordinj» to a purpose, and may we submit to Thy will ! We should love Thee with our poor hearts, so that, beneath a frownin"? providence, we may recognize the love — the tender, ever- lasting love of God ; that we may cheerfully pass under the rod, and flee for refuge to the hope that is set before us. O Lord ! comfort the liearts that are aching with sorrow and loss ! Thou, O Christ, who didst weep with the sisters of Bethany ; Thou, who dost sympa- thize with the sorrows of all good creatures, pour in the comfort and consolation of Thy grace, and give joy and peace to their hearts. ' May the present light affliction, which endureth but for a moment, work out a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory !' INFay Thy providences lead us to repentant '> — to greater faith— to a closer walk with God, and a fresh consecration of ourselves and all we have and are to Thy service ; and to renewed diligence, while Thou dost lengthen and prolong our days and increase our opportunities of service. May we so work while the day lasts that we may hear Thee say, ' Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' " Bless, we pray Thee, O Lord, all the assemblies of Thy saints — the holy catholic Church throughout the world — wherever holy words are lifted up unto Thee. Thou, who walkest among the golden candlesticks, pour out Thy Holy Spirit upon those who name Thy name. " Bless our land and nation. Look upon Thy servant Queen Vic. toria, and so replenish her with Divine grace that she may do Thy will and enjoy Thy favour. Bless our empire : Grant that no weapon turned against her shall prosper. In all things may Britain have the pre- eminence — an excellency of glory in Thy sight. May the blessing of God rest upon her for many generations. Bless all lands and kings. Thou, who art King of kings and Lord of lords, hasten the day when every knee shall bow to Thee, and every tongue confess Thee ; when all men and nations and pc^ople may be saved through the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen." Singing by the choir, " Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord," from the oratorio of " The Last Judgment." Readii T of the Holy Scriptures, taking for the lesson the 14th chapter of Job. 42 Hyinu No. 22;") (a favorite one with the deceased) — There's a wideness in God's mercy Like tlie widoness of the sea; Tliere's a kindness in his justice, Whicli is more than liberty. There is a welcome for the sinner, And more graces for tlie good ; Tliere is mercy witli the Saviour ; Tliere is healing in his blood. For the love of God is broader Tlian the measure of man's mind ; And the heart of the Eternal Is most wonderfully kind. If our love were but more simple. We sliould take him at his word ; And our lives would be all sunshine In the favour of our Lord. By the Rev. Hugh Johnston, M.A., B.D. I " For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."— Philii'piai^s i. 2L How wonderful tliis declaration of the apostle! It is not the language of surprise, but of calm assurance. It is not the language of uncertainty, but of satisfactory persuasion. And was he not qua- lified to pronounce upon sucli a subject 1 He had been caught up to the third heaven, where he wandered over liijls of frankincense and mountains of myrrh; where he walked along beside the si)arkling waters of the river of life and through the shining streets of tlie city of God. He had listened to the accents of the angelic bauds and had been ravished with the songs of the heavenly choir. Having beheld the glorious vision, he was carried back to earth, but he knew no language by which to tell of the matchless splendors of that other world. Not that he was forbidden to declare the revelations of his raptured vision, but he found no medium through which to convey 43 them. Yet in no hesitating manner does he declare the immediate blessedness of departed saints, and in tliis epistle descrilies himself as in a strait betwixt two, " having a desire to depart and l)e w ith Christ, which is far better." "Nevertheless, to abide in the tlesh is more needful for you." It is a question with him of immediate reward or of prolonged usefulness. As he looks forward to the joy that awaits him in heaven, his spirit at a bound would go to partake of the inheritance of the saints. Yet his zeal for Christ would urge him to struggle on faithfully and give his life for His cause. While success- fully engaged in his important mission, prosecuting with a fearless heart and tireless energy the work of his Master, the happiest man on earth ; nevertheless, he deliberately judged that to die would be his gain. Behold him at last reaching forward to that gain. His warfare is accomplished, and the apostle, the hero, the martyr goes to his death. See him led out to execution beyond the city walls, on the road to Ostia, the port of Rome. Surrounded by a Sh.all troop of soldiers, he walks through the dusty streets of that busy metropolis under the bright sky of an Italian midsuauner. He is taking his last earthly journey, and rejoices to follow his Lord without the gate. The place of execution is reached. With his neck upon the block, his clear voice rings out: "I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good tight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith, henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of i*ighteousness which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day ; " and as his head rolls ofi under the swordman's stroke, troops of shining angels surround his spirit, and while they welcome him home, there floats down the immortal cadence — "to die is gain." The apostle was of the highest order of Christians. Yet to every real believer "to die is gain." Wherever Christ is believed in, death is a gain and a triumph leading to an unfolding life beyond. We believe this was true of our dear brother Massey. 1. Contemplate first this morning the subject ot which the apostle speaks — Death — "to die." We must all die. The event is a cer- tainty. It is appointed unto all men once to rlie. Every one must go to the grave. Every hour three thousand of our fellow-creatures 44 enter into thr dark valley. Throe thousand voyagers with dimmed eyes and j,'hastly faces every lioiir cinhark for that strange land from which no traveller returns. Must I dm 1 Must /die? is a (juestion we need not ask. The event is sure. It is a universality. The strokes of death are universal : its triumphs are seen everywhere. Never was empire more extensive; never was dominion more abso- lute. More destructive than ancient Goths or Vandals, this arch- enemy of mankind demolishes every fabric of beauty and shatters every form of grace. Death triumphs over the strong as well as the weak ; triumphs over the young as well as the old. His kingdom is the land without order. He wears a thousand forms, and approaches men by a thousand avenues — by pain, by the cough, by fever ; while some by strange and sudden accidents have the silver cord loosened and the golden bowl broken. His arrows level all to the dust ; his sceptre is over all. T/ie event is solemn. It is a dread and awful thing to die. Death, even to the believer, is an enemy. There is a natural shrinking on the part of all from dissolution. It is a solemn thing when that which we have so often spoken about, thought about, and tried to realize, is actually upon us. Is it a trifling thing to die? Oh ! what sensations crowd into that moment when a man puts his hand upon his forehead and feels the death-drops gathering there ; when his dimming eyes see the darkness gathering and the shadows increasing. How many have felt these sensations? To everyone of us such a moment must come, we know not how soon. Prepare for it, my friends, everyone of you — prepare for it. We cannot tell what death is. We know it has a power over the body destroying its senses ; but it has no power over the spirit, for the soul goes forth from its tenement of clay to the God who gave it. Death, again, dissolves all the tenderest ties of nature and affec- tion. In this life we become wedded to the sights and scenes around us; we become endeared to what is familiar to us. "Truly the li^ht is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is to behold the sun." What delight- ful objects surround us on every hand ! But death sunders us from them all — parents are separated from their children ; husbands from their wives ; brothers from their sisters. There is an instinctive longing toward those we shall never see again. How we look at them ! How fondly we gaze upon them ! But in the strange wrench 45 limed from Mion The ^liere. labso- larcli- ttters |s the >m is aches wliile icned ; his of death the beautiful form so changes that we cry out, " Bury my dead out of my sight." Another bitter element in death is its loneliness. Dearfiiends, we must die alone. Alone we must go on tiiat dark, mysterious journey : perhaps for the tirst time in all our existence utterly alone ! Our friends surround our bedside, but they cannot go with us. To the Christian, the presence of Christ breaks the solitary Jourtiey ; but to many of you there is nothing beyond the grave but the dark Styx, into which alone you must j)luiige. This brings us to the most terrible part of death — its sting. This it is that gives to death all its terrors. The death of the body is not the full infliction of the penalty. The second death treads in the steps of the first, and it is the fear of this that mitkes tlie sinner shudder and tremble, and be willing to struggle with any load of troubles and cares here, rather than fall into the hands of the living God. There are those who carry about with them from day to day the terrible secret of sin. Sinful deeds lay lieavy upon the heart. They are like dark spots that will not come out, the remembrance of which gives dread and remorse. It is these wliich make sinners dread the approach of death. There is no retreat when we encounter this grim enemy. Prepare for its approach, my friends. " I cannot speak falsely to you — you must die ! " said a physician to a skep- tical young man, who found himself face to face with death. In tones of dt'spair he said, " I have stiHed conviction ; I have fought against God ; I have resisted my mother's pleadings. Now I must die ! And do you know wliat that means?" he adchid, in an awful whisper ; " It means, that if I die to-day I shall go to hell ! Tell me, oh ! tell me, I am not going to die 1 " But to those whose sins are forgiven, death is disarmed of its sting. They hear the voice, r' did the patriarch of old, " Fear not to go down to the giave. I will go with thee, and will bring thee up again." When the daughter of Martin Luther lay on her deathbed; her father, approaching her, said, " My dear child, my beloved Margaret, you would willingly remain with your earthly parents, but if God calls you, you will go." "Yes, dear father," she answered; "if Jesus calls, I will go." " Dear girl, how I love you ! " the stricken father replied. " The spirit is willing, but the flesh is indeed weak." Then, taking up the Bible, he read to her, " Thy dead men shall live ; together with My 46 Imfly shall tlu-y arise ;" and a(l(l('