.\> IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 M m IIIM lU 1 2.0 1.8 i-4 11.6 ^^ ; memorial ife OF THE REV, JAMES GEORGE, D.a v.. PRIVATELY PRINTED. H il , Memorial OF THE REV. JAMES GEORGE, D.D. Privately Printed for His Family. TORONTO: WILLIAM BRIGGS, 29-33 RICHMOND STREET WEST. 1897. & < ] 1 I F F u t( fIDemorial OF THE REV. JAMES GEORGE, D.D. REV. JAMES GEORGE was born in Perthshire, Scotland, in 1800. He was educated in Dollar Academy, and in St. Andrew's and Glasgow colleges, and having finished his theological course, he came to America in 1829. He was pastor of churches in Philadelphia, in Monticello, and in Fort Covington, N.Y. Letters from members of each of these churches expressed their great esteem for him, and regret at his leaving them. But he had carried with him an ardent love for his native country, and the unfriendly feeling to Great Britain that was then the prevailing sentiment in the United States, was so painful to him that he chose rather to live and work under the old flag in the woods of Canada. He came to Scarboro' in 1834'. The first church had been only a short tinio com- pleted, and they built for him a manse. To it he brought his beloved young wife, only to carry out from it the next year, the desire of his eyes, and lay her in the newly-made graveyard. She was a woman of much force of character and great personal l)eauty. Her early death was a grievous loss to him. The property belonging to the first church of Scar- boro' comprised an acre, bought from D^ivid Thomson, on which stood the church, and another acre adjoining, bought from James A. Thomson for a glebe, on which was built the manse. This acre, with seven acres additional, bought from Elder James Thomson, by Dr. George, and presented to the congregation, forms the beautiful glebe of St. Andrew's. Beyond the church officers, to whom he made over the gift, but few of the congregation knew to whom they were indebted for the addition to their property. The moneys with which the seven acres of the glebe was bought was a gift to him from the Colonial Com- mittee of the Church of Scotland, of the sum of forty pounds sterling, given to him at the recommendation of Dr. Norman McLeod, as some recompense for early missionary labours through the adjoining townships. He would not accept it as a personal gift, but took it on condition that he might apply it to the purchase of the glebe for St. Andrew's. The first chui'ch was a frame building, with Htair built on the outside, to give access to a gallery, added when the congregation grew too large for the ground floor. The church was seated with plain pews. A long narrow table extended from before the pulpit nearly to the door, a long pew on each side of it. A short table and pews were placed across the end of the church, each side of the pulpit. These were the communion tables. The pulpit, a high enclosed place, was reached by a stair. The precentor's seat, directly beneath the pulpit, was also enclosed. The order of service, beginning with prayer, sing- ing, reading Scripture, prayer, singing, followed by an exposition of Scripture, often going through a certain book consecutively, which was as carefully and laboriously thought out as the sermon, filled up two hours. There was then an intermission of twenty minutes, when the people repaired to the spring at the foot of the hill to eat lunch and drink the pure cool water bubbling up through a bed of white sand. The rest of the time was spent visiting the graves of friends, or enjoying the "crack in the kirkyard." Refreshed and rested they returned to the church for the sermon. Such a thing as anyone going home before all was concluded was unknown. In winter 6 the sermon followed the lecture without an intermis- sion, the two services lasting four hours. Many of the people came six, eight and nine miles. The Gibson and Hood families, nine miles away, were regular as the day and prompt. In the early times they walked that distance and carried the little ones. When roads and means improved vfagons and carriages came in use, and it was a pleasant sight to look on the long stream of vehicles driving away after service. The preached word was precious in those days. Mrs. Hood, who came nine miles, talked thirty years after their delivery, of a series of lectures on the Book of Job. " I could not," she said, "let anything make me miss one of those lectures." But in all his ministry he gave his best. It was beaten oil he brought to the sanctuary. Behind the manse, between two pines, was a smooth worn path, where he paced back and forth preparing for the Sabbath, aye, and with fasting and prayer. There were days when he took no food save a piece of dry bread and glass of \7ater — shut within his study, from which could be heard the sound of supplication. Then when he entered the pulpit, his whole being was so possessed by his theme that voice and countenance answered like a mirror to the noble thought. Sometimes his face seemed, indeed, to shine ; again, would seem to gather blackness. His utterance vibrating with feel- ing, now soft and low, or loud and vehement, was accompanied with spontaneous forceful action. The Lord's Supper was observed once in midsum- mer, and again in winter. Several brother ministers assisted in the services, which followed the Scottish order. Friday was a fast day, as religiously ob- served as the Sabbath. No work was allowed. Our swing was tied up that day. Two sermons were preached. On Saturday the Session received the young communicants, who had previously visited the manse for examination. A sermon was preached. The elders arranged themselves on each side of the pulpit, and intending communicants went forward for the tokens. These were made of metal, a cup embossed on it, and the words, "Do this in remembrance of me." The services on Sunday began at 10, an hour earlier than usual. The tables were covered with linen cloths, and the elements were placed on the one in front of the pulpit. The communicants filled the tables as they entered church. A sermon was preached. Then came the solemn event of the day. The ministers descended and stood at the head of the table, the elders on each side, two passing around to take the tokens. The "tables were fenced," that is, the character of worthy communicants set » forth, the communicants encouraged to partake, and the unworthy earnestly warned from the ordinance. An address was given ; the prayer of consecration. The bread was broken and handed to each at the head of the table, then the wine, the elders passing to the foot of the table to bring back the elements which had passed from hand to hand. Now there was a solemn hush, while each one communed with the Lord. After another ad^ 12 selection of books was procured to begin with- a house belonging to Mr. J. A. Thoinso.i ueir iiis hoi'ne held the library. Here the books were oxchanoed' once a fortnight ; afterwards they built a house near the churchyard for both library and Sunday School. Dr. George's strong love for his country has been mentioned. His influence must have done much to strengthen the loyalty of his people. When the Mackenzie rebellion came to a head, as far as I know there were not any rebels in the township- certainly none m the congregation. One evening the news came to the township that an attempt to seize Toronto was going to be made by the rebels. . The men did not wait for a call, but set off that evening to defend Toronto. A large company of them called at the manse ; at ojice our father resolved to go with them. They walked in to the city, gathering numbei-s as they went ; but unarmed as they were, they would easily have been captured had they encountered the rebels. Within a few miles of Toronto they were met by a man who told them several hundred Americans had crossed the lake and landed near the city, that the Don bridge was burnt, and advised them against pro- ceeding farther. A halt was made to consider this warning. Dr. George, suspecting this man to be a rebel sent out to prevent men from the country iroincr r . I 13 to the city, declared that if there was one man who would accompany him he would proceed. An Irish- man (who had been in the British army) stepped for- ward saying, " I'm the man, sir ! " All decided to go forward. On reaching the Don, the bridge still stood. An attempt was made to burn the bridge, as the blackened timbers w^itnessed for many years after. They reached Government House about midnight. The Governor at once went with a few trentlemen. among whom was our father, to the arsenal, to get arms for the volunteers. It was a scene of confusion, for no one of them knew what boxes held the differ- ent parts of the arms they wanted, so they had to break open box after box till they found the right ones. Had the rebels come to Toronto that evenino- they would have found the Government unprepared to resist them ; they kept guard a few days. Mac- kenzie and other leaders fled to the States, and the rebellion at that point was ended. On this occasion our father preached his only political sermon, on the duties of subjects to their rulers. A request presented by the congregation that it might be given to them for publication, was com- plied with. The stipend paid by the congregation was four hundred dollars a year, doubtless all that could be .1 I T 14 raised when he went to Scarboio'. It was punctually paid, but never increased until the 'ilergy reserve money came. Doubtless the closest economy was needed to live on it, but we did not suffer privations. A servant was kept ; a few books were added yearly to the library— Blackwood's Magazine, The Albion, and Toronto Colonist were taken. There was the horse and cow, poultry and bees, besides many a pre- sent that came to the manse from the farmers' and housewifes' stores. Looking back on the relation of pastor and people in Scarboro' at that time, it seems an ideal Presby- terian parish, the minister doing his whole duty to the utmost of his ability ; the people doing theirs. Harmony and contentment reigned. The sympathy . and friendship between a people who had struggled and helped each other through the privations and toils of making homes out of the forest wilds, still bound their hearts together. The people in Scarboro' were largely Presbyterian. The question of denom- inationalism was not there to detract from higher thinofs. Whether for good or ill, this condition was changed when the disruption of the Church of Scotland took ; place. To our father's intense grief the division of ' the Canadian Church followed. He opposed the T L._- , 15 division to the utmost of his po^^'or, and was the one appointed by th*^ Church to reply to the " Protest and Dissent " of the Free Church party. His own congregation was torn in t\v o ; a spirit of uncharity, unknown before, appeared. Those who can remember that time, will bear out the statement that that spirit was never fed by word or act of his ; and he was among the first, if not the very first, to begin the movement toward reunion, that has later been so happily accomplished. The following year a deputation, Dr. Norman Mc- Leod being one of them, came out to Canada to explain the position of the Church of Scotland to the Cana- dian churches. Dr. McLeod held a meeting in Scar- boro', and was guest in the manse for nearly two days. The two men were congenial, and a friendship sprung up. Dr. McLeod corresponded with our father, after his return to Scotland, urging him to come to Scot- land, assuring him a good parish would be given him. He did not feel it would be right to leave Canada at that crisis, and the tempting offer was refused. Other influential churches in Canada intimated a desire to have him as their pastor about that time. These pro- positions were also refused. Some years after a call came to him from the Church in Belleville, which he accepted. He went there in the fall. In the early 1 16 spring of the following year, Elders Wni. Patterson and James A. Thomson appeared unexpectedly in Belleville church one Sunday morning — their errand, if possible, to bring him back to Scarboro', offering a larger stipend than they gave before. He accepted the call, but refused the increase of stipend, and was again minister of his old charge within the year> The short pastorate in Belleville had been a very pleasant one. Soon after this he was chosen by the Synod to supply the chairs of Mental and Moral Philosophy and Logic in Queen's College, going to Kingston for three months in winter, his pulpit meanwhile being filled by the Synod. This was done for three or lonr winters ; then the Synod chose him to fill the chair permanently. This he accepted, but not till after much deliberation and weighing as to his duty. It was no easy thing to sever the tie that had lasted for twenty years, where he had seen th children he bap- tized grown up, and now filling tlieir place in the Church. Many most kind and highly appreciative words regarding him, by his old students and others^ have appeared from time to time in the public prints^ even up till now, showing that his memory and work in Kingston are still a power for good. N I 3? " .4' 17 \:, It was soon after fi^oing to Kingston tlmt, to his ti^roat surprise (for he had had no hint of it), a Scotcli newspaper was received, in which he found his name ♦gazetted, as having* had conferred on liiin the degree of D.D. by his Ahna Mater, Ghisgow College. A letter from Principal McFarlane informed him that ho and Dr. Norman McLeod had presented his name for the honour. This, of course, greatly enhanced the distinction in his esteem. In the college his labours were even more arduous than as pastor. In addition to his own classes, he taught for several years the theological class, and in the summer vacation visited and canvassed the churches for money to buy the Sumner Hill property and for other college halls built there. In the fall of 1862, feeling his health breaking down, he resigned his professorship in Queen's College, and accepted a unanimous call to St. Andrew's Church, Stratford, "Nvhere he laboure '• faithfully until his death, in 1870. The congregation of St. Andrew's had been vacant for a few years, and previously had been ministered to rather irregularly by a neighbouring minister, so that it was very much reduced in numbers, and in a bad condition spiritually, and politics had entered in to make dissensions. It was a hard field for one up in years to undertake, but never for a moment did 2 r. 18 his loyalty to his Master fail him. Here was his work, here his corner of the vineyard to keep and to cultivate, and the more barren the ground, the more need xor his very best; and he gave these people, who were neither highly cultured nor very much in earn- est after heavenly things, the ripeness of his later years. His great intellectual powers were not im- paired, and the discipline of life had only increased his pei*sonal consecration and faith in One whom he knew " had done all things well." He never for a moment doubted that the loving, guiding hand of his heavenly Father had given him this place and work. No mur- muring word ever passed his lips, but with true Scotch pluck he " buckled to his work." The greater number of the congregation were country people, many of them living some distance from the town — some as far as seven and eight miles — scattered over a large district. He held weekly prayer-meetings in alternate neighbourhoods, as well as weekly prayer- meetings in the church, and never once was it known that storm or drifted roads hindered him from keep- ing an appointment, and that at the hour announced. Punctuality was a virtue he always insisted on in others, and never failed to practise it himself when within the bounds of possibility. The church property, as was to be expected, was ■' , 19 • much deteriorated when lie went there. A frame church, which was wretchedly cold in winter, made a poor church home for the concri-ogation, and a small four-roomed cottage was all the manse provided, so that he was necessitated to purchase a home. A com- fortable brick house, with ten acres adjoining (juite near the town, was secured. He remarked when he removed his family to it, " Now this is our home until death or the sheriti' takes us hence." Now, that func- tionary had never had any dealings with our grand- father s descendants, so far as is known, and was not likely to get a footing in that home, so it continued to be our pleasant and comfortable home until death removed him to a better and an abiding one in 1870. The Session was very small, only two elders — good men both — but where was he to find other men suit- able to add to that small working force ^ Ah, where indeed ? This was a great grief to him. His ideal of the office was so high that he would rather con- tinue on with these than add any men not wholly consecrated and fit. And so the Session never was increased in his day except by the coming from a dis- tance of one who had been an elder in another church. Perhaps no one outside of the minister's family can really realize what a loss — what a curtailing of use- fulness to a minister and congregation — is a weak 20 session. And so ho bmvely struggled on, liandicapped in many ways, and the congregation grew, and in time a handsome and commodious church was built. His last illness came suddenly upon him, as heart disease often does. He had only had the slightest pre- monition of any trouble existing, until the spring o^ 1870. His illness lasted four months; he died on the 26th of August. The pain suffered was very great before the end came. He got no sleep except by sitting up in his chair and leaning his head on another with a pillow in front of him. Night after night for many weeks this was the only way in which he got any rest, and that only fitful and broken by spasms of pain. His days, too, were filled with pain and weariness, and yet no murmur passed his lips. The lesson to all about him was one not to be forgotten. His constant attendant through these trying weeks and months was his devoted wife, and latterly a son-in- law, who came and remained to the last. Few were permitted by his physician to visit him, as the strain was too great. He never wearied of hav- ing the divine Word read, and next to that was Baxter's "Saints' Everlasting Rest." He seemed in spirit to live already in the atmosphere of the other world to which he was hastening. It' ! 1 i I I Some extracts from his journal may show better than any other words the spirit in which he passed tlie last few months on earth : January 1st, 1870.— This is the first day of the year. All my family are in good health, and all are in possession of many comforts. How thankful I ought to be to the merciful and gracious God. His goodness has continued and followed me all through the year. ... I have often and often put the question, " What more or what other can I do for my people?" I should, perhaps, have more frequently put the question, " What more or what other can I do for myself and for the inner life of the soul / " O Lord, teach me, make me what I am not, but what I must be before this people become what they shouid be. Amen ! March 10th.— I received this day very painful news -my brother Peter died a few days ago. He was a sincere, though very modest Christian,''a most kind-ho.irted and cheery man, with a considerable portion of true Scotch wit. He is the first that has died of father's family. Who shall go 7iexU O my (iod ! prepare me :or going when the call comes. April 7th.— The love of Clod rightly felt influences all other love. This right, all will be right. Oh, for more of it ! 22 May 10th. — I have felt very unwell for two weeks past. I have thought for some time there was some- thing wrong with my heart (palpitation), but never severe until now. It is now very serious and accom- panied with a great want of breath at the slightest exertion, accompanied with great pain. my God and Father, if it is to be death, prepare me. May 11th. — I am still very poorly in health and feel the palpitation very much to-day. Maj^ I be prepared for the will of the Lord. If for death, may it be to die in the Lord ! If there is to be a length- ening out of life, may it be spent in the service of my God. May 17th. — I have had several days of great pain. Last night, however, I slept well. There is a sleep that God is said to give to His beloved. I hope it may have been somewhat of this. But whether sleeping or waking, may I be thine, O Lord. May 30th. — This is now the fourth Sabbatli I have not officiated I do not remember such a thing before in the whole course of my ministry. What a thouglit is this ! Nearly forty years of constant work of one kind and another, O Lord, was it for thee ! Alas ! alas ! Yet I do hope some of it was. Oh, that it had all been for thee, tlioroughly consecrated to thy service, to the seeking of the salvation of souls. II' I ■ t i 2S June 27th. — No better, but worse. I grow weaker every day. When heart and flesh faint and fail, may the Lord not fail me. Lord, be my hope ; Lord, be my shield. Let the Saviour be my portion for time, for eternity. In thee is all my trust. And the Lord did not fail His servant who had put his trust in Him, for no other power could have sus- tained him through this trying time. As the days passed, he looked almost longingly for the Messenger to come. Once after a very severe paroxysm of pain had passed, he sank back, exclaim- ing, " NoWy my God, let trouble cease. Noiu let thy servant die in peace." And another morning after a terrible night of sutlering, he opened the blind, and in answer to one who said, " It is a lovely morning," he said, " Yes, but not the morning I ex- pected to see." Again, after a severe spasm of pain, " Oh, come Lord with thy benign salvation. Come and give me rest and peace and joy which thou gavest to thy children." At another time he said, as if speaking his own heart communings, " How precious is that promise, ' He that knocketh, to him it shall be opened, and he shall come in and sup with me and I with him.' " And again, " What a mighty indispen- sable matter is salvation, and yet we treat it with indifference. We do not bring it into our social life 24 as we ought." " How rlili^ent we should be while we have time and health. I have not spoken as I should when I had them, and now I cannot." At another time after hearing the 53rd Psalm he ex- claimed, '' Oh, what a Saviour ! He not only died for us, but continually makes intercession for us." On Sunday morning, August 21st, he awoke from a troubled sleep unconscious, and continued so until the end, with only partial gleams of consciousness ; and at 3 o'clock in the morning of August 26th he passed from all loving human care into the care of the Divine One, for we do not doubt that there was a mighty arm for him to lean upon when he went down mto the dark river, and a glad and holy throng awaiting his ransomed spirit on the other side. j^ ^ M. B. The first part of this article was written by Mrs. Ross for the Centennial volume issued at Scarboro' in 1896. I r 25 r THE OLD MANSE. Oh, blessed home, with its walls so gray, ( >h, happy times gone by, Where'er it is my lot to stray, Still be thy memory nigh. Still on my path thy grateful shades Refreshing influence throw, And when the flowers of spring must fade, Cheer me with memory's glow. No fl(>wers like thine, oh, i)ast, can be, No pleasure bloom so sweet for me. How long and bright the sunnner days When 'neath the i)ine8 we played, Or roamed upon the grassy ways O'er hill and woody glade. To cull the darling flowers of spring, How well their haunts we knew. Down by the brook meandering, Where earliest still they grew, Cowslips, mayflowers, and dearest violet, With countless sisters fair, in wild profusion set. Do you remember the merry eve, Out in the pastures green, We crowned you, dear, with ivy bloom A bright Titania ((ueen ? And in later years the quiet strolls, Round by the old ash tree, Or seated on clover-dappled knolls With Shakespeare for company. 26 No sound to stir the fragrant air, Save the thrush and the whip-poor-will, And the milky mother's contented low, And the lambs at play as they homeward l/o 'Twas pleasant on the garden seat, 'Neath the willow's drooping bough, ' When the purpled west still smiled to'meet, The moonbeam's modest glow. Lovingly, touching the gold and red Of the roses blooming there, While the honeysuckle's luscious breath I With perfume filled the air. I 'Twas sweet to sit surrounded thus. And nmse and talk as pleased us. How lovely was the Sabbath there Through the school-room's oi>en door, So soft and calm the Sabbath air. Balm breathing stealing o'er. And pleasant in the evening tide With arms entwined to stray From stone to stone in the graveyard wide, Where a congregation lay ; One reverent pause at that holiest spot, And then the sunset hill we sought. And blest for aye be the study hearth Where well we loved to be, Where wit and wisdom for childless ears Were lavished unstintingly. Thank God for that secluded home For those quiet days— whate'er may come. — K. R. - " The followinfj (wtide, written b,/ one of his old stxdents (the Hev Robert Campbell, D.D., now of St. Gabriel's Clwreh, Mont- . real), appeared in " Th, Presbnterian " a few months afhr Dr. Geonje's death : OBITUARY* ■ "Died at Stratford, Ontario, on the 2(ith August last, of valvular disease of the heart, the Rev. Janies George, D.D minister of St. Andrew's Church, Strat- ford, in the 70th year of his age." This is an announcement which lias been already read with sincere sorrow by many both in and out of Canada, who knew and admired and loved tlie man whose decease it intimates. James George was born in a Httle farmhouse in the parish of Muckart, half way between Dollar and the famous Caldron Linn, a few rods from " The clear winding Devon, With green spreading bushes and flowers blooniint/ fair " It was in these terms that Scotland's greatest poet described the landscape in which the subject of this sketch spent the impressionable years of childhood, and from which he drank in, both consciously and unconsciously, those aliments which went to nurse in him the gifts of genius with which nature endowe.l 28 him. Whoever lias driven from the bridcre of Allan to Kinross, skirting the base of the Ochils, green to the very top, and has followed the course of the " Burn of Care," up to the ruins of " Castle Gloom '^ and has climbed to the top of Ben Cloch, and thenco surveyed " The green valleys, Where Devon, sweet Devon meandering flows," has seen perhaps the sweetest pastoral view in Scot- land, and can trace the source of those conceptions of the beautiful in natural scenery which Dr Georo-e possessed in an eminent degree, and to which he gave such sweet and eloquent expression in one of his most delightful published essays, - The Poetic Element in the Scottish Mind." James George was a poet born. His nature, as the true poet's always is was as sensitive to the circumstances which surrounded him as iodine is to light; and while his imagination and taste were moulded by the scenery of the Devon his character and principles took their complexion from the simple yet intelligent rural population amonc whom his youth was spent. The spot is still shown with pride by the companions of his boyhood who have followed his career with watchful interest, where he used to perch on a crooked tree overhangino- the J 29 Devon, and from it as a pulpit declaim, like Demos- thenes of old, at the sur^rinself, by placing hin. i the Moderators chair in 1«41. -For twenty-fi^e yea4 no ame appears in the Synod Records a'ssociafed with ore useful reports and motions, and these were alaos uniformly adopted. After the resignatiorby Si'in V n"" '^""«''-'«'>'P ->J P.-ofe:sorship o^ JJunnty in Queens College in 1840, Mr. George If - m was appointed interim professor of Systematic Theology, and from that date till 1853. when 0"'^! mT'T °* '^' Prineipalship by the late Dr Bor ot Mental and Moral Philosophy and Lo'*-'< ^-ir composition^ out of their hands. When he did indulge hi fault- ere doing tiieir very best, and they generally did their very best for M.^, as Arnold's students iL to ' do, his rebuke was all the more telling that it was Ton :" :,'^""">-.'-'f-J'>kingmanner. "hIs exan^:! atioi s on the subjects of his own prelections were ".valuable as he had then an opportunity of throwi , ." an anecdote or piece of scientific or curious general 41 information tliat could not find a place in tl.e written .h.scou,.e Here again we ,„ote the wor,ls of corespondent already n.entioned. whose tostin.on, cannot be accused of partiality, as it is that of one who never attended his classes : " Few professo have been more loved and valued by their' studel than he was by his. His interest in then, by no room , ,t followed them to the battle of life and it always gave him hearty gratification to hear ;f the •success in a wider arena Ar.,n,, ^p ti, voithy nnnis ers of our Church, and others hold posi- and n distant parts of the world ; bnt one and all 1? TTr^r "" ''""•« ^P-^"* "' '»« «'-- '-oon ovv he delighted then, with the warm glow of ...eniu hat inspired his prelections, and ki,idl.;:i theirs u isasm from his own. " Of I'is powers as a public speaker those who have heard him need only to be remivde,,. Without os sessing the more studied graces of rhetoric oTelocu- tion, his oratory derived its power from tl.e vigour an.l ongnia Ity of thought and the fervid intensit;,, f " ng hat characterized the man as well as his pro.luc. t ons. One platform addre.ss of his, in which he alluded to the atrocities of Lucknowlthen f^esli in I 42 the pubhc ,n,n.l_will long be ,-e.no>nl.ored by thos^ «-ho heare borro.-s of heathenism." AmUlns was almost surpassed by another remarkable orafon on the .,uestion of raising a monun.ent to the renowned hero Sir William Wallace, in which hi lo^eof h,s native Scotland, his humour, pathos and sympathy w.th freedom all found eloquent expression amid the tumultuous cheers of the audience "As a preacher he combined intense fervour of speech and delivery with great comprehensiveness and elevation oi thought: and while his sermons were long for modem days, they were listened to with more sustained attention than is often vouchsafed to far shorter ones. His addresses at the Communion table were especially warm and impressive, as he dwelt with deep feeling and pathos on the wondrous ••edeeming love which the ordinance commemorates " A sermon of his on Rev. iii. 12, delivered in St. Andrews Church, Kingston, in October, 1,S54, on the evening of the Communion Sabbath, is still vividly remembered by his students for the passages of su,-- passing beauty and eloquence it contained "A noticeable trait in his character was the rich vein of genuine hum .ur pervading his conversation, and on suitable occasions his public speaking, playing 4S in 1802, imich to the recrret of hw ..„ r • , in Kingston, l,e resi.morl I.T . "^' ^'■"""''' luiuess, ann with scarce v ess fhan fK. • of his prime, till in the spri.f. TtS .'"^'°"' for ever laid aside from eSv lln T"" '" '""' of valvular dise-..^ !f *i ^ "'"•" V an attack period o^^:::'z:LZ^ i,':i '- ^^^'^^ -^ home jnst as the limit'-^f XlelrVt^.: rtT„' had been almost readied 44 1 ,r (T I """ 'r '"f* ''''""•^ '»■" '^O'"" P«''li«l.c.,l writings I -a ^■ynt.tl.d . The Sabbath ScL.l of tho Chul^ and the F.re.s.de '-full of sound thought and wise ooun.sel, and several lectures, delivered at vaHou penods an.l published by request." Glowing as tl'se loftnessof h.sgen>us, still they are mere f ra.nnentarv .v^ences of the fertility and power of hi: tetl^h ^g The press of Stratford united in paying tributes to the earnestness and success of his nfinitry therind ot w ,ch, rehgious and educational, found in liim an 2S r* r'T*^ ^"' *"'-^"^- ^" Monda the 29th August, a large assemblage, many being f^n a hs^ance, congregated at his late residue to^pay he vvit the directions left by the deceased, Mr, Gordon 1 e^ T;- '"' '"■• '''='^"''^"' '' Winchest: o"d nansT ^ '»« o^"' """''"cted the services at the nianse. Mr. Gor.lon read appropriate passa^.es of Scripture, and addressed some piLtical rena\ to the sorrowing congregation, concluding with a few personal reminiscences of him whosof death tle^ 4 ' 4.5 ■"ourned. Mr. McKwoniiiTf,;,,,,, „ ,„:.,,,, when the funeral oo,./,y „.„„,;, ",;"""'^'^' l"-">'«^'-. gravey«r,l,where,,un,Mthet"r o „ ""^ '" "'" tl>e .nortnl re.nains of tl eir •''°'™^"'K fl.>ck-, terrod directly behi:! t J I r„ui:"'"'' T '"" On the Sabbath following, a I i„l tJll'T "'""''• 'l»est of Ur. Geortro ^.f ,''""""= ^ '''c -Pn-ate attentive eo„;: ItforV ^ ^f it ''77^"^ Canada Presbyterian minister of ri f"','' ^^''"' friend, in conLet;,, ., °^ t,odench, hi.s old earnes'tly, P JZtl.iriiTa.X''"'' "'''°"^^'" «hare in the public work of theXno 1 to l" " T"" a union of all Presbyterians irida"^ t"* seems to have lookp.? nr.r ii '-^"aaa. He thus tin, the union IvlrL'^r r ^^ ''" ■"'*"^- to be approachincr/'" ' ''"'' "°'^' appears m.nute was framed, and a copy of T 1 ''""^ transmitted to Mrs. beorge ^ *"''''''' '" '^'^ "Ina.sm„chaswe have been called upon since the ^ 4G last rc^uljir iiu'ctiii;^ of our Presbytery, to inourii tlie loss of one of our ineiii])erH — the Rev. Dr. Geort^e — this Presbytery would in liuniility bow to that dis- pensation (sad and severe thou^^h it be) of the All wise and Almighty Disposer of all tinners, which has de- prived us of the Christian sympathy, the wise counsel and ^reat talents of one who was early led to conse- crate himself to the work of the Gospel ministry, and who, so far as man can jud<^e, was eminently success- ful in his Master's service. " As a minister of this Church, which he joined in its infancy, about 36 years ago, his career has been marked by great pulpit power, fervid zeal, ane man, i"!; ^^^l^: ^Ij^.^-f *<> -le of their studies under him 'a .j 'T, ? P'-^^^-'ting Presbytery would ta J H ' fu''tl'«nnore, the ;o Mri GL;"'i,;thet,::,,r's:ir rr this dispensation of the Alnii 'htv H • f 'i^'"' ^^ 48 land, will be read with mournful interest. As it was his wish to die in harness, ho solicited the Presbytery a few months before his death to allow his congrega- tion to clioose a colleague, leaving him first mhiister of the charge. This they gladly granted. The latter part of the letter, which \Nas his last legacy to his people, refers to the proposed arrangement. My Dear Friends,~It is now nearly eight years wanting but a few months, since I began my labours among you. But that which was, I trust, by the Divine appointment, is now by the same Divine appointment apparently brought to a somewhat sud- den close. It is into the hands of the Presbytery, according to the rules of our Church, that I shall have to resign my present position. That will be done in proper for.n in due time. Yet as your pastor, I can- not withdraw from my present position without making a few observations which may be suitable for the exigencies of the occasion. Although I was advancing to old age when I assumed the charge of the congregation, yet in all bodily health and in all mental powers I felt as fully capable of discharging all the duties of the ministry as I had ever been in^'my life. And in some senses I felt better prepared,^ as I had all the experience of my past ministerial life to aid me. But now, surely, at a period such as this it 49 becomes both me and you to look back with solemn consideration. No minister can be connected with a people, even for a short period, without solemn results. If he has wrought for God, even this to him- self will be matter of joyous reflection. If he has not wrought for God, these reflections will in many ways be very painful. But when we think of this kind of labour going on for many years, if it has been good, how precious the retro^^pect : if bad, how sad that retrospect ! I cannot enlarge on this topic. I may be permitted, however, to say a few things ; first as to myself ; next as to you. As to myself, I think I can, in the solemn circumstances in which I am now placed, look back and say I have in my public ministry among you fought the good fight and have kept the faith ; and on all occasions have striven to disclose that faith for the conversion of sinners and the edification of saints. I have not knowingly kept anything back which I thought my God bade me disclose, and I have not glossed over any matter which my God bade me present in all the nakedness and simplicity of grandeur and truth. This is what conscience affirms ; and I know well that there has been much weakness and much sin in all that I have done and said, for I know well that the marks of my sinful hands have been left on the purple robe of gospel truth. Yet I cannot but 4 w 50 testify to this that what I preached was the everlast- ing gospel of the Lord Jesus, and in which I believe and did believe was the only good news for sinners — was the only remedy for guilt, and was the only and certain cure for a diseased soul. I have no hope for the salvation of my own soul but in this gospel, this faith, this free, this all-sufficient gospel. It is this which I have striven to unfold to you. Now, in as far as you have attended on my ministry with the view of knowing the glorious principles of this gospel, you have done well. But can I believe that this has been generally done, or must justice compel me to say that this has not been done by you all ? Oh, my friends, we must not pay groundless compliments or trifle with truth on any matter, but more especially on a matter so momentous as this, and at such a time as this. Let your own conscience be judge. Have none of you ever carelessly absented yourselves from the house of God when this gospel was being preached ? Have you never spent the Sabbaths in sloth and fri- volous pursuits while the great message of salvation was being delivered in this house ? You were not there, and you had no sufficient excuse for your absence. Yet you were absent while those sermons were being delivered which had been the subject of earnest study during the previous week, ane pulpit, fully arranged, toi oh : It ... ,„y earnest wish and prayer that the cause ot pure axd undefik-d religion niay ever flourish and prevail in tliis church. And now I say, what I have often said in your hear- ing.- May the grace of tlie Lord Jesus Christ, an.l the lov-e ot God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost be with you all. Amen. Yours, very faithfully, James Geop •'^ "Thanks be to God thnt hucIi liuve been, Altliough they are no more, More lionielike seems tlie vast unknown Since tliey have entered there. To follow them will not l)e hard, Wherever they may fare ; They cannot be where G(^d is not. On any sea or shore. Whate'er l)etides, Thy love abides, Our God ftjrevermore I " LEAvix(i us AN' Example." ' :\ roiMi^Jriy of Kingston, a taAii.^--*' »'^'' vigour c^ntl grasp of mind, originality of thought and the intensit/ of nature and feeling which is tlj^ 80urqp...i(>f all *»'9ft"*ife"^'*^ "*** Idflf, it ma?, bi'safe- ly said, hut few equals in the Dominion. A native of ScotUnd, lie removed to the new world soon after completing his University course and his studies for the Church, and after a brief resi- dence in the United Stiites, which, as he was wont to say, cured him of his youthful fancy foi a democratic form of government, he finally settled in Canada, and became the minister of the Scottish Presbyterian congregation of Scarboro. Here for many years he |iiithfnlly laboured, much beloved by JnS*|feople who still faith fuHu^cherisIr the memory of his ministfUtiou^ and of his intercourse among them. As an r instance flif the enthusiastic loyii^y and patriotism which characterized him, it may be mentioned that during the troubles arising from the threatened re- bellion of 1837 and '38, ^le marched into Toronto at the head of his parish- ioners, ready, if necessary, to do battle with the rebels and their allies, |??'o arts et focis A few years after the establishment of Queen's University at Kingston, he was i-equestorl to lecture during a por- tion of each session upon mental phil- osoi>hy, of which, on the completion of more permanent arrangements, he be- came Professor, and took lip his resi- dence i\\ King^fept(,^_i^o\»' ' -^ ^IIimT ,■ ^-,..11* ttowU less (listinguisbed iu through which that iin{>ortant chair ; how he delighted his Rtudents with the wann glow of geuiiw that in8j)ired liii pi-elections, kiudlinp^ thsirentliusinsm from his own aud by his iuteresting aud original method of treating the subject, will long be vividly leniembered by nmny now holding honourable nnd important positions in the Dominion, nnd by somo who are no the far distant lands thev Hre scattered. '^ He was not a close follower of other men's systems, aud he preferred the more tempting doniaia or Psychology, with its i-ich field of observation and inqni»*y, to the colder and more barren regions of pure metaphysics. He was intensely enthusiiistic in search after truth and in tracing out the workings of the Divine mind, as revealed in the characteristics ©f the human, and even oi t\\Q hrute mind, a fa von rite subject into whose mysteries he was always endeavouring to penetrate. .;: ,*,„,,,, -I., ,^ Of his powers as a public speaker, those who ind(,e jiad the |>rivilege of heartng4iim ^n u^ Kingston platform will only need to be reminded. With- out i)03se3sing the more studietl graces, (Either dt TfN^tovicoi>44ocuti(^. his ora- tory derived its power f rohi the vigour aiid originjility of tiiought and thb fer- vid intensity of feeling that character- ised the man aa well as till his produc- tions. Onf* platform address of his, while the atmcities of Lucknow wem still J*i*esh in the public mind, thrilled his audience by its graj)hic, almost dramatic presentation of the horrors of heathenism. As u preacher ho united the fervour of speech and delivery which impressed, with the compiolicu-- lutebsc as were the snOcnng, of his Hivwiww of "'^— wgf-wMch inter(Jstedj.^3t ^^y^^ they were brlgljtenecl by the "^ t\^ ^^'■'"""^Chmtum faith anU hope which had unfa ^^o^hocn Ilia Rtay and Hupport duriDg fl )ughoutg^,.^,]y tried life, a* faith nnd hope of 18 oftfiOwhich those abont him felt' it ft privilege to witness the i)ower, at a time when ■X'J^iJ \\ with mo vouchsafe A noticeably' was the fftiik»of g#i pervac|aj|^$^DOQ occasid^' hiH'' publid^ and s|Mli^|iBy|[ abou aiuliduco "iiwiiid ||Sf«cted witli the biiiufht geniality oflefl3ingso overflow- ing in the speaker. But on occasioos tliiit called for more serious earnest- nest^ this vein completely disappeared in the sometimes terrible intensity with which lie grappled with m momentous sebjects. i« Pii'186'2, much to th regret bf his many fiionds in Kingston, he resigned his pi'ofeflsorship, and aco -pted a call from tlje conjjre^'itlon of Stratford* His new charge, at first a very small oQ,e, bccime under his earnest ministry so large and flourishipg as to overflow its limited accommodation, and two or thrfee ye^rs ago bnilt a large and hand- some church, which is an ornament to the thriving town. In it he continued character ^^j other stivy could bo of any avail. our which He has left some published writings ,«nfittingi,p|,i„j him- a work entitled the "3un- ng; playing j^y ^^^],oq1 ^^f ^^^ Church and the Fire- 3#j^t till the..^Jp M f^ii ^f sound thought apd wise :>unsel; and several lectures delivered k various times,and published by re- est, charactorized by his |»eculiar tone thought and enthusiastic patriotism. ift Ikst of these was upon the "Euglish Li£:ua";e or '^ Great Britain's mknior I ) the world," treating the subject Riy original and interesting ^mannfef) ' But Ms published writings convey' ut a faint idea of their effect when uforced by the earnestness cif the liv- Qjj voice. One so intense in all his ' eeliugs, and so decided in his opinions md sometimes i-athor intoieiaut of those ivho differed from him, could scarcely ail, in the course of an evenful life, of, nakingr some enemies. But the warmth , lud geniality of his character, and his j , , 1 . 1 , . loyalty of nature, won for him many | to preach the gospel with hi8 accustom, ptauuch, true-harted fiiends, who will j ed pow^r, zeal, and faithfulness, and r ^^^^ j^^^ ^^^^th as a personal loss, and with Ba;rcely less than the vigour of f.j^ ^^^j .^^jj^^^ to sav as they remem- his prime, till, in the spring of this ^^,,, ^j^^ ^^^^^ .^^ ^^1 j^; ,,^3._ ^ ye*ir, he was lor ever laid aside from ! ,;t\ i i xi 1 1 I 1 1 1 j: It' -'It may be lonjf ' earthly labours by valvular disease ©fL, , i, , i . • i-i • « th« h^»rt, which Ls, after » period of P™ >*''-' "'"'" '"*''' »P"" '"' ''''« "S*'"" suffering, removed him to his eternal home, just as the limit of "threescore years and ten" had been almost reached. '•»ni of his necl by the ^^iiich had : duriog ft id hope (.f ft privilege ioie when -avail, d writings the "Sun- I the Fii-e- apd wise delivered ed by le- ntiar tone atriotlsm. "English 's mnsioi I Ijject ' 'mannfe/; / 8 convey ' 'Ct when ' the liv- 1 all his ' opihiohs t of those scarcely I life, of i warmth Jind his ini many who will loss, and re mem - again. »> rft'u.^:jr_ .