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Tous las autras axamplairas originaux sont filmAs en comMenpant par la pramiAra paga qui comporte une empreinte d'impresbion ou d'illustration et en terminant par la darnlAra page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivants appara?tra sur la darnlAre image de cheque microfiche, selon le ca'i: la symbols — ► signifie "A SUIVRE", le r/mbole y signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre filmAa A des taux da rAduction diff Arants. Loraqua la document eat trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul clichA, 11 est filmA A partir de I'angle aupAriaur gauche, de gauche A droite, et da haut an baa, en prenant la nombre d'imagas nAcessaire. Les diagrammea suivants illustrant la mAthoda. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 From a Photo by Martin A Sallnow, 416, Strand, London, W.C. LONDON STEREOSCOPIC CO. ^^w/rtti MEMOBIALS OP THE KEV. JOHN FREDERICK STEVENSON D.A., LL.B., D.D. I 4 BY HIS WIFE. JAMES CLARKE & Co., 13 & 14, Fleet Street. MCOCCXCI. I IN MEMORIAM, J. F. S. r>,i his ,o>mn, JoHcph Tnmmi. First pnhUshed in the London " Spectator." A LIFE from our impoverislied life has past, Gentle, and purp, and free ; A soldier in the camp of light, right-fast, With old-world chivalry : A mind that frank, alert, inquisitive. Kept a saint's ardour still, Whose dauntless searching for the truths that live, Left no agnostic chill. Mourn we no more, 'twere wisest, and 'twere well With the world's hope to blend ; What matters now the painful cloud that fell. And settled on the end I O'er breathing earth, and through the moving air, A force resurgent rolls ; In realms invisible arises fair The Easter of all souls. One day for us the sombre veil will lift ; A mighty light shall flow ; And we no longer question, doubt, and drift. And fear, but tind and know ! 34994 PREFACE. -•♦^ TN publishing these " Memorials " my thanks are -L due to the Eev. J. Jackson Goadby, of Henley- on-Thames, for his aid in correcting the proofs. By the desire of many friends, extracts from the memorial sermons and addresses delivered in lieading, Montreal, and Brixton, are included. I have also added a few of the many letters received after Dr. Stevenson's death which may be of use in revealing something of his character; or may prove consoling and helpful to others who, like myself, have suffered in this sore bereavement. -. ^I. B. STEVENSON. MCNTREAL, July, 1891. 1 M m i (> CONTENTS. r> Sketch of Du. SiEVKNyoN's Life by Mrs. Stevenson Extracts from Memorial Skrmon Preached by Bev. Dr. Wells '• ••• ••• ata Extract from Memorial Sermon Preached by Rev. J. Jackson Goadby ••• ••• •,« At Brixton Independent Church Other Personal Tributes to Dr. Stevenson... PAOE 1-67 57-08 64-09 09-70 70-81 f SE 11 HON 8. ETHICAL. I. Toiling in Rowing 85-95 II. Drifting ^^_^^^ III. The White Stone and the New Name 105-118 IV. God's Gentleness Man's Greatness ... 114-121 V. Power in a Eobe 122-135 VI. Character and Destiny 18G-146 I "I'W (' vUi CONTENTS. \'ir. Watkk I'ltoM 1Jkthm:iikm ... VUI. The Vauiation ok Stukngtii IX. A SiiiNiNo Fack 147-ir,« ir>7-i(;(> 107-171) TllFJUOaiCAL. I. TlIK CUKKD OK THK A(iN'OSTI0 II. TlIKOLOOY AND RkLIGION HI. ClIUIbT AND OTIIKU TkACUIKUS ,.. I8;j-i9a ... 197-207 .. 208-217 IV. Is THK HkVKL VTION OK GOD SATISFACTORY ? 218-230 V. DOUIITH CoNCKUNINil THK SoUL 281-24B VI. The Chauactkr ok Chriht— is it Divink ? 240-201 VII. Ills Glorious Body 202-271 Article Written uy Dr. Stevenson on the Death of Trofkssor Elmslie, D.D. ... 272-277 I SKF/rcn OF 1)11. sTFVKXSovs Liri:. J OI[N FllEDElUCK STI<:VENSOX waslliccMcst Kon of tlio llev. John Stcvonson, M.A., for luiiny years the eiirnost and devoted pastor of the Borough lload Jiiiptist Church, London. His grandfather, the llev. Thomas Stevenson, was a contemporary of llobert Hall, v/hom he well knew and whom in many points he resembled. lie was a man of un- usual talent and i)ulpit eloquence ; a sturdy Puritan of the old type, ii. the days when .i, man had to BufTer for his nonconformity. An annisin^ btory is told of hiui and his relation to a neighbouring clergyman who also bore the name of Stevenson. In those days clergy mcai were not always appointed because of their fitness for the sacred ofiice ; and, if report is to be trusted, the dignitary in question conferred no honour upon his profession. Perhaps the near neighbourhood of a hard-working "dissenting brother" proved a source of irritation to a man of more secular pursuits ; but certain it is that Thomas Stevenson found no favour in the eyes of his ecclesiastical namesake. Particularly he resented his use of the ?. 2 MEMOIR. prefix "Reverend " ; and one day a letter intended for the nonconforming Thomas falling into his hands, he sent it to its rightful owner with the ac- companying note : — " Sm, — If you liad not assumed a title to which you had no right, this mistake would never have occurred." No notice was taken of the insult at the time ; but some months later a pile of manuscript ser- mons, prepared for the use of those unhappy preachers who are unable to compose discourses of their own, having been purchased for his own requirements by the clergyman, were sent by mis- take to Thomas Stevenson. The opportunity for retaliation proved irresistible ; and one can ima- gine the grim smile with which they were packed up and remitted to their proper owner with the enclosure : — " Sm, — If you had not assumed a title to which you had no right, this mistake would never have occurred." But those old days, we are glad to believe, have passed away for ever. It was the hap^iy experience of the subject of this memorial to find the only rivalry between himself and clergymen of the Established Church one of love and of good works. This was pre-eminently the case during Lve Ive ice he lod MEMOIR. 3 his life in Canada^ where the Church is free from the fetters of State patronage and control. John Frederick Stevenson was horn at Lough- l^oro', in 1833. While still an infant the family removed to London, his father, the llev. John Stevenson, having heen nivited to hecome pastor of the Borough Road Baptist Church. Travelling in those days was by coach ; and a long journey it proved for the young mothei and babe. The little one, however, thrived in his new surroundings, and found in South London a congenial home. Here he was bro ight up, and ever after loved it with that mysterious devotion which a true Londoner feels for those " long, unlovely streets," half hidden, as Buskin has it, " with the modern mystery of smoke." I remember being struck with this in reading the life of Charles Dickens. Even in the midst of the loveliest scenery of Switzerland, he occasionally breaks out into a home-sick cry for London ; long- ing for a prowl around the old haunts, peopled for him with a life so fantastic, yet so real. •* Fred," as he was familiarly called as a lad, grew up a somewhat dreamy boy, never so happy as when sitting in a quiet corner with a book ; and if the book were on some abstract subject, so much the better for his enjoyment. Much of his early education was gained in a garret of his London home, where volumes from an old library were stored. Here he feasted upon Berkeley, Paley, and other theologians ; but above all, and perhaps MEMOIR. best of all for his English education, Shakespeare, Milton, Goldsmith, Spencer, here unfolded their magic pages and filled him with delight. Ilis memory at this youthful period was "wax to re- ceive and marble to retain," and the contents of the garret library proved a precious possession for ever. In after-years, when deeply interested in educational questions, he was especially anxious that the study of English literature should form an important and systematic part of school training. He felt that his " garret culture " was of the greatest personal benefit to him throughout his life, and helped largely to that training of the tongue and of the ear so necessary to a public man. " I would have the youth of England saturated with the classical writers of their own tongue, just as the Greeks were with Greek," he would say. He received his general training at University College, London, under the well-known professors, Francis Newman, Maiden, and De Morgan. In 1850 he became a student at the ]japtist Colle^fe, Stepney (now Regent's Park), for his theological course, under Dr. Angus, and finished this jiart of his career by taking his 13. A. at the London University. Among his fellow-students were Charles Viuce, Samuel Cox, Clement Bailbache, and Lusombe and Henry Hull ; and with them he formed friendships which only death has dissolved. " His Sunday services," says a college friend, " were in constant demand, even in those early days. His preaching from the MEMOIR. first was marked with great fluency, a happy choice of diction, and occasional incisivencss, all infused with a quiet «^low of emotion — parts sparkling with satiri- cal pliiy." He possessed, like liis father and f^rand- father, a natural eloquence, and had tlic advantage of being trained in elocution by Sheridan Knowles, who sometimes, when his patience was tried by less satisfactory pupils, would turn to Fred Stevenson and say, " Come up here, my dear, and show them bow to do it ! " While at Stepney, when not en- gaged in preaching himself, be often had the oppor- tunity of hearing some of the best London ministers. Howard Hinton and Baldwin lirown were his special favourites. Two widely different men, but both useful to the young student, in forming his own standard of pulpit taste and ex- cellence. To the teaching of the latter, indeed, he was indebted all through his after-life. On one occasion, while listening to nis celebrated sermon ** The way home," Mr. IJrowu apologizing for exceeding his time, his enthusiastic young hearer audibly exclahued, *' Go on ! " Fortunately ho was sitting near the pulpit ; the preacher saw how it was, and smiled kindly at the eager f.;ce upturned to his own. Ilow little either of them could have guessed tbat one day the unknown young student would become the successor of the prominent minister, whose career was tben in its prime. His twenty-first birthday found him the pastor of his first charge at Long Sutton, Lincolnshire — sitting in «p 6 MEMOIR. rather lonely dignity in bis own study, missing the homo faces and birthday greetings, which ho was not too old to appreciate. Writing to bis father he says :— " I have made this day a season of new resolu- tions and fervent hopes and prayers. May God give me His gracious assistance that my now com- mencing manhood bo consecrated to Him. There is much here to be done in His cause, and I only hope it may be accomplished in His fear and for His glory. The friends have received mc with very great kindness. They do not appear to have been efficiently supplied of late, and the cause is in a poor state. ... I preached in the evening from the words of Jesus, * I will come and heal him,' as applied to the poor paralytic. The congregation was very attentive and quite double the usual number. Is not this so far encouraging?'* The four years he spent at Long Sutton seem, on the whole, to have been happy ones. His salary was about eighty pounds a year— -not quite so humble as that of Goldsmith's village pastor, though, like him, his wants were few. He seems to have felt quite a man of means, however, and writes amusingly to his mother of his indepen- dence r — " My expenses average about eight-and-sixpence or nine shillings a week. Several friends have been to see me, and I have invited more than one to spend the evening. The sense of having a MEMOIR. perfect r\^\i to do so" (ho bad formerly })ccn lodging vitli a family where this was impossible), " and of welcoming my visitors to a table all my own, is exceedingly pleasant." lie was inclined to look on the bright side of everything, as indeed who should not at iho age of twenty-one? Here, he says, ho preached his *' wild-oat" sermons, and the people were kind and patient with him, giving him time for thought and mental development. He always regarded it as a mis- fortune for a young man to begin his ministry in a prominent church. The quieter the better for the first few years, ho said, so that the " 'prentice hand" should get practice before he attempted great things. Unfortunately in Long Sutton Mr. Stevenson's physical health fared not so well as his mental condition. In those days, before the draining of the fens, to live in Lincolnshire meant to bo a martyr to ague, and to this rule he was no excep- tion ; indeed he suffered from it so severely that it affected his constitution for many years afterwards. In 1858 Mr. Stevenson accepted an invitation to the Mansfield Road Church, Nottingham, where his old friend and fellow-student, the Rev. Dr. Cox, author of ** Salvator Mundi " and other works, afterwards succeeded him. lie was at first co-pastor with the Rev. G. A. Syme, M.A., a gentleman of some repute amongst the General Baptists ; but on ^^^SXa^ 8 MEMOIR. his rotiroment through ill-health, Mr. Stevenson assumed the entire pastorate. Soon after his settlement ho married Priscilla, daughter of Mr. King, of Boston, and life seemed to open out full of promise for the future. Like a holt out of a clear sky, however, a crushing sorrow was about to befal him. After fifteen months of happiness his young wife, who had left him in the morning in perfect health, was brought home at noon, a corpse. After rather rapid walking she had fallen in the street, and instantly expired; heart disease, unsuspected even by herself, being the cause of her death. Out of the shadow of this bitter bereavement the young minister emerged, not only with a deeper experience of human suffering, but with a deeper sympathy for all sufferers — a sympathy which was a large factor in making him so greatly beloved by his people in his after-ministry. The roots of his sorrow went down deep into his life, and bore fruit not only in his private, but in his public ministra- tions. It was as an anointing of the Lord which enabled him to speak "a word in season to the weary," and to apply the comfort wherewith he also had been comforted of God to bowed and broken hearts. Like most people, however, with a deep sense of the pathos of life, he was keenly alive to the ludicrous, and sometimes found it difficult to refrain from a smile where it would have been misunderstood or unseemly. Preaching on one i »' « MKMOIIi. i V. occasion at an anniversary service, a large dog strolled up the centre aisle with slow deliberation, and planted himself as an auditor a few paces from the pulpit, from whence ho looked up into the preacher's face with such serious attention that he altogether impeiilled his gravity. Fortunately the sexton succeeded in removing the interloper before the situation had grown too embarrassing. ]3ut it was frequently his experience that a quick s(5nso of humour, while adding to the amusement of the man was painfully upsetting to the minister. About this time he began to feel the difticulty of his position as a General Baptist. While attached to many individuals amongst them, he was some- what cramped and fettered by the smallness of the denomination. It must not bo supposed that ho objected to the rite of " believer's baptism " ; as long as he lived he maintained that, should any unbaptized converts desire it, he was perfectly willing to admit them into the Church by immersion. He could not, however, feel the fuvm to be of the signal importance with which many, even of his own congregation, invested it ; and when pressed for more definite sermons on the subject doctrinally, he found it distasteful to comply. Forms of all kinds were irksome to him. During his residence at Long Sutton he had lived, for the most part, in the house of a godly Quaker family, and had, almost unconsciously, been influenced by their views. He enjoyed the simplicity of their services ; 10 MKMOIR. and tUo "Friends' Mooting," which ho sometimes attondod, was a source of much spiritual bonoflt to him. In this connection ho was fond of quoting from Thomas Lynch's quaint and suggestive poem " A church with bells " : — " I wont tlio silent Friends to see, Anil there no bellu could ring ; For how could any niusio bo Where nobody would sin^'? Ihit us wo all wore sitting hushed, Up rose a sister grey, And said, with fuco a little ilushcd, ' This is a sunny daj', And Jesus is our inward light To guide us on our way.' ' Ah ycB,' said I, • this sister pure, Tho old, glad tidings tells ; And hero too, I am very sure, I'vo found a church with bells.' " *? i I [ t lie was in much sympathy also with Bushnell's ** Christian Nurture," which he read at this period. The organic unity of tho family, which should result in the children of Christian parents being brought up as Christians — "no more Christians with families, but Christian families," as Bushueli says, seemed to him reasonable and Scriptural. Coming into contact with the Rev. Paxton Hood (with whom he afterwards enjoyed a lifelong friendship), Mr. Stevenson intimated his willingness to accept an invitation to a Congregational church, and was shortly after called to the pastorate of mmoiit. u ts '•'1 Trinity Chapel, Heading. This was a clianj^o whicli ho never had reason to regret. Pastor and pooplo soon becamo warmly attached to each other, and as long as ho lived tho memory of his ministry among them was cherished as one of bis most sacred and tender recollections. lie went to Reading in 1H03, in the thirtieth year of his age. His views had ripened and settled into what I may call a ** Jiroad Evangelicalism." Indeed a friend, laughingly accusing him of his "breadth," was answered, " Broad, if you like, hut I do not give up the word * evangelical ' ; it is too good to be parted with." The essence of his sermons might he condensed in the teaching " that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself." " What men find it so diflicult to realize," ho would say, " is, that God loves them. They will believe in Him as Judge, as King, as Governor, condemning or approving, pleased or displeased ; but what they do not sec is that the love of God is the strongest, deepest fact in the universe. If they did it would prove irresistible. Christ is the great Hevealer of the heart of God. The attraction is there, and must go on ; as He has said, 'I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me.' " What he himself said of Professor Elmslie, in an article written shortly after bis death, was equally true of the writer : '* Ho was not satisfied with a partial or merely logical view of any of the groat I» T I- ■' 12 MEMOIU. doctrines of tlio gOBpcl. Ho delighted to look at thorn from different sides, and to set them in various points of light. Ilis teaching was eminently constructive. Tlioro was no tendency in his mind to rejoction for the sake of novelty or changci. lie was prohahly more keenly alive to the presoncc of truth under varied forms than eager to overthrow any mode of thought which has ever yielded nourishment to the spiritual life of earnest and godly men. Hence ho was popular with men of different mental tendencies, although entirely candid and fearlessly outspoken. ... He looked forward to fuller truth as the result of wider in- vestigation. He did not expect to destroy, or even innovate, but perpetually to add ; and saw in the theology he loved so well the grandest gymnastic of the human mind, as well as a majestic vestibule of the temple of God." As time went on, and he grow to be a power in the denomination, it might have been said of him, as has been said of another whose position much resembled his own, "that his part became very much that of the Eeconciliationist — the man who is the intermediary between the new vuUhs and the old faith." On the platform he was perhaps an almost greater power than in the pulpit. Always diffident, it seemed as if he needed the first round of applause to put him thoroughly en raiqiort with his audience ; once being assured of their sympathy, everything I r ; MFAtOIU. 18 became poHsiblo to him, and ho carried hin listcncrH with Iiim to tho closo. I havo often folt that in the pulpit, if lio could havo boon permitted to hear an cxpreHsion of tho feeling of the congregation it wouhl havo been an imuiensc help to him. Jfe was mere dcBtitute of tho (piality which, for want of a better word, 1 may call " assurance," than any public man I over know, and hence had none of the pardona])lo pleasure which ho many are able to take in their own performances. The utmost he ever said, even when most happy in his public utterances, was that "ho had been able to speak with comfort." The occasion of his first coming prominently before the Heading public was when, soon after his arrival in the town, an indignation meeting was held by the Nonconformists to protest against the insult olYered them by the late JJishop Wilberforeo, who in a recent charge had classed them with "bad cottages and beer-shops" as "hindrances to the clergy." The llev. John Aldis and other of the leading ministers spoke, and the new-comer electri- fied his audience with a speech of so much fire and brilliance that every one was asking who tho young man was. A Liberal in politics, he did good work for his colleagues, and was a great support to Mr. Shaw Lefevre, at that time M.P. for Reading. In the year following his removal to Reading, ho married Miss Davis, daughter of Dr. Davis, 14 MKMOlli. Hocrotarj of the lloligiouR Tract Bocioty. The union waH a Hingularly Iiapi)y ono, and sho wlio writcB ihcHO iinpcrfuct pagos can only thank God that so many yearn of life and work together were granted to thoni. It is a delicate, and to her an iniposHiblc, tank, to lift the veil that hidcH the sacrednesB of their domestic life. Enough to say that it was in the home that hoth gained strength for outside toil, and felt the cares that infest a puhlic life soothed and quieted and forgotten. In Heading their live children — three hoys and two girls — were born to them, each new inmate adding to the happiness of their home. One or two extracts from Mr. Stevenson's letters \\\\\ bo the best interpreters of his life at this period. It should bo said, however, that he never was a ready writer ; and his letters are always as much as possible condensed. He disliked the act of writing, maintaining that it cramped his thoughts as much as his movements. Owing to this, it was years after his ministry began before ho took any but the briefest notes into the pulpit. And it was always true of him that his best sermons were extemporaneous; though, as he himself would admit, with a shrug of his shoulders, **bo are my worst." As time went on, however, he grew to feel that the written sermon struck a more certain average — not always rising 60 high, but sure of not falling so low, as one simply thought out might do. I 'i MFMOIU. Iff When lirnt called to Uiiidiiig he fliiyH, writing to liJH niothoi* : — " My TuHt Siuiday here in now past. I liavt; to ho thankful for a rcvji cordial welcome on tho part of my now friend?*, and fur nnich comfort in pleach- ing yesterday. The chapel was well filled at J»oth services, and I helievo that what I Haid has fallen on * good ground.' >ry own view of my prospectH is that they were never, on the whole, bj good, and though I look forward to diflicultios of many kinds (as who is without them ?), yet I put my trust in God for wisdom and skill to conquer them. I am anxious above all things to do God's work in His way, and I thank Ilim for placing me where, ho far as I can judge, there is every prosju'ct of my working with an alTectionato and congenial people. May He fulfil my hopes for His luune's sake ! " That these hopes were abundantly realized is evident from the fact that under his leadorship the Church became too strait for the congregation, and was enlarged to seat half as many again. To his father he writes : — " I won't enter now at large on any metaphysical or theological discussions. But I am intensely interested in the processes of mind by which your original views of the will have modiiied of late. Your method of investigation is surely unimpeach- able. The exact vein itself into which you have finally settled I do not quite know. It will come out probably more easily in talk than in correspon- Id MimotR, , (lence, and I long for a conversation. My philo- sophical studies lately have had reference to two things: tho nature of what we call "matter," so far as knowable ; and Mr. Grove's doctrine of the Correlation of Forces (or, as Herbert Spencer calls it, the * Persisten.^e of Force '). These are rather two aspects of one sulyect than wholly distinct. The tendency of niy studies seems to be to over- throw realism. Matter fades into force, and force into connection in reason, i.e., into quantitative or mathematical relations. For so much emotion which disappears, a constantly related quantity or intensity of heat (or electricity, or light, or chemical force, or all) appears. This seems to be what we mean by causation in nature. More when we meet." To his mother he writes shortly after the birth of his first child : — ■ ** The boy grows daily, and twines himself r^bout our hearts wonderfully. Poor little fellov/, launched all unconscious on this strange journey of life, am I glad t? see him or no ? Well, yes, I am ; and yet it is no unmixed joy. It is a terrible thing to live, after all. I am afraid that is the lesson most of us learn from the experience of years. To be a human being is to be an actor in a tragi-comic drama, of which the tragedy is by far the larger part. What it all means ho would bo a very shallow theorist who should dare to say. I don't want to write gloomily, however, you have need of something else MEMOIR 17 than that. My daily aud liourly prayer in that God may guide and bless you." From tills hist extract it will be seen that " the burden of the mystery " weighed upon him at times, as it does upon all thoughtful minds. At this period of his life, however, he was generally cheer- ful, except when suffering from the much-dreaded *' bilious-nervous " headaches, which too often made Monday a day of misery to him. His health was never so good as his friends generally imagined ; and much of his work was done under the tension of suffering to which he would allow no reprieve. Though truly devout, he had nothhig of the prig or " goody-good young man " in his composition. The following extract, written about this tiiiio to a young minister who was also an intimate friend, will, I trust, be pardoned as revealing the genuine fun and naturalness of his early manhood. *' My dear F., — I am very glad the B.'s have had the good sense and good feeling to elect you. The eight or nine elderly feminines who differ, will not, I hope, break your heart, though you are in some danger of breaking theirs. As you say, with a touch of wisdom beyond your tender years, a little personal attention will convert them quickly, and perhaps suddenly. The only danger is lest they should become too demonstratively affectionate ! " I am more than glad to have you so near. ' 07"/ About seven years after lii« settlement in Picadinf:; the church buikh'nf; was enlarged and altered. During the renovation, ^fr. Stevenson preached in the Town Hall to crowded congregations. At the xcopening services Dr. Parker and Baldwin ]3ro\vn were the preachers. Lunch was held in the school- room, where the ministers of the city and the special guests of the day were entertained l)y the Trinity congregation. It was a happy, and to the pastor a memorable occasion — one of those " white days" in the life of an earnest minister for which he can " thank God and take fresh courage." During the time when "the Disestablishment of the Irish Church " was agitating the nation, l\rr. Stevenson was asked by the Liberal party to hold a meeting in the Town Hall and express their views on the question. This he did, and held a crowded audience for two hours. He was speaking on a subject full of interest to himself ; the sympathy of his audience roused him to his best, and at the close he was greeted with a perfect ovation. Two or three times during )iis life in Reading he was visited by Thomas Cooper, once the celebrated Chartist leader, but in the days of which I speak a ** Lecturer on Christianity " and veteran soldier of the cross. As a lad, when visiting relations in Leicester, Mr. Stevenson had often watched, with awe-struck eyes, the army of starving men headed by their lusty champion, wearing a red cap of liberty, marching "T .. S i .' 22 MEMOIR. • I II througli tho Leicester market-place, and singing a Chartist song, witli the refrain — " Tho lion of freedom's released from liis den, We'll rally around him apain and again." And a leonine aspect even in those later j-ears Thomas Cooper presented. At that time, however, ** he roared as gently as a sucking dove," and many delightful rambles did they have through Reading and the surrounding country. Botany was Mr. Cooper's favourite pastime, and he soon had the young minister as fascinated as he was himself in hunting after new " specimens," which he enjoyed with all the freshness of a simple, un- worldly nature. " Rich as a Devonshire lane," the old gentleman pronounced the fields and hedges of Berkshire, as they returned with their hands and arms so full of treasures mat their hostess was fairly puzzled how to stow them away. To Thomas Cooper he owed his fondness for botany, which ever after made his country rambles so full of interest to him. The writer has many happy recollections of ** a day's holiday " in the lovely valley of the Thames, when wandering by the river- side in the neighbourhood of Pangbourne or Maidenhead. A zest was added to their enjoyment by the discovery of some ** bright particular" treasure among the long meadow grasses or under the luxuriant hedgerows. And so the time sped on, unmarked by any f MEMOIIi. 23 Htrikinp; ovont, until priHtor ami people had boon togollior for ton yoarn. Mr. StovonHon now hold ji position posniblo only to ono who had boon so lonjij " triod and proved." He had watehed those who had boon children on his arrival p;row up into nian- liood and womanhood. He had buried those who bad finished their course — had stood by their sick- beds, luid bocorao the loved and trusted counsellor in their times of perplexity. In the town itself ho had grown to bo an institution; and as one humour- ously remarked, "Reading without Mr. Stevenson would be as bad as * Hamlet ' without tho Prince of Denmark." More than once efforts had l)cen made to secure him for other churches, but he seemed proof against all temptations from without. A change, however, little contemplated on either liand, was in store for him. In the winter of 1873, which proved a very damp and unhealthy one in Heading, bordering as it does on the valley of tho Thames, Mr. Htevenson suffered much from neuralgia of the eyes. The trouble proving not only intensely painful, but persistent, his medical man wished him to consult a London oculist. This he did, and was advised to try prolonged rest, and if possible a sea voyage, as the best means of cure. A trip to New York to attend the meetings of the Evangelical Alliance was therefore proposed in the following summer, and generously arranged for by his congregation. During his travels Mr. I M i 'I 24 MEMOIR Stovcnson visited Montreal, nnd prcaohod at tlio well-known Zion Conp;rf!fi;ational Churcli, for many yearn under the pastoral care of the venerable J)r. Wiilvt'H, wlio has been called " the Father of Canadian Congrc}:](ationalism." From the articles in the Montreal Daily WHncHa and other papers, it seems evident that Dr. Stevenson produced a marked impression durinj^ his visit, and the Zion Chm'ch coiif:;ref;ation determined, if possible, to secure him. They were then under the pastorate of the Rev. C. Chapman, but the idea was to build a new church in the western portion of the city, at which fresh help would be required. Early in the following year, therefore, they forwarded Mr. Stevenson a hearty invitation, which was soon after enforced by the personal appeal of ])r. Wilkes himself, who visited England in that year, and laid the claims of the colony strongly before him. For some time Mr. Stevenson underwent an anxious struggle of mind as to what it would be right to do. On the oue hand were the close ties that bound him to his Reading charge ; the fact also that both he and his wife would be called to part with beloved parents ; his love for his native land, and his interest in her politics and general welfare. On the other hand there was the hope of improved herJth, the drier and more exhilarating Canadian climate having already benefited him, the future of his children, and the claims of Canadian Congregationalism. Decision proved a r