and dryness both of language and delivery-one of the pre-eminent faults of our Church, and one which has contributed to her losing not a few of her children-which, constituted as human beings are, will always be a hindrance to the appeal which they have to carry to their hearers' hearts. The gravity and dignity of the pulpit ought indeed to be never compromised, and the arts of the actor or the demagogue can only profane the place; but if it would please God to gift us all for our work like Apollos, who was 'an eloquent man and mighty in the Scriptures,' we should combine two chief requisites for effectually preaching the Gospel. Restriction to written discourses is apt to have a bad effect upon the manner the restriction to extemporaneous delivery (which is much worse) upon the matter of men, and bodies of men, who discharge their part in the pulpit."

CHAPTER XXII.

Re-appearance of cholera at Quebec in 1854-Visit to New York-Completion of triennial circuit-St. Michael's chapel-Death of Colonel Mountain-Lieutenant J. G. Mountain.

THE summer of 1854 was marked by a fresh visitation of the cholera at Quebec, which served as before to call forth the self-denying zeal of the Bishop, who for some time, during the disablement of the chaplain of the marine and emigrant hospital, took the charge of that institution. It was also marked by one of those opportunities which always gave him so much pleasure, of intercommunion with the Episcopal Church in the United States. At the invitation of the Provisional Bishop of New York, he paid a visit to that city for the purpose of preaching at a large ordination in Trinity Church, and on his return was accompanied by Bishop Wainwright as far as Montreal, where they both officiated and preached. It was the first time that the Bishop of Quebec had done so in Montreal since the division of the diocese, four years before, and he had not visited New York for nearly thirty years. It was arranged that Bishop Wainwright should pay a visit to Quebec to plead the cause of the Church Society in the autumn, but very shortly before the time appointed for it, his unlooked-for and lamented decease deprived his brother of the opportunity of farther intercourse on earth.

The triennial visitation of the diocese, which had been partially interrupted by the Bishop's visit to England in

1853, was completed, by extensive journeyings both in summer and winter, and its statistical results are given as follows: Ordinations, five; (priests, six; deacons, four ;*) confirmations, forty-two; persons confirmed, nine hundred and eightyseven; churches consecrated, twelve; burying-grounds, seven. There is also a note of four hundred and thirty-two sermons preached, of which one hundred and sixteen were written, and three hundred and sixteen extemporaneous addresses of a more familiar kind. Three were preached in Atlantic steamers, twenty-nine in England, three in vessels of war, four in New Brunswick, and two in Montreal.

Within his own parish of Quebec a new chapel was opened at the close of 1854, the chancel of which was built at the expense of the Bishop, as a memorial of his younger son, Lieutenant Jacob George Mountain, of the twenty-sixth Cameronians, who had died at Gibraltar in 1850, in the twenty-fifth year of his age. The Bishop's brother, Colonel Armine S. H. Mountain, who had commanded the same regiment, was a sharer in this work, but before the foundation-stone was laid, he had himself been laid to rest at a still greater distance from the birthplace of his nephew and himself. The names of both, as well as of the only other child of the first Bishop of Quebec (with the exception of one who died in infancy) who was a native of Canada, and who was also a most liberal contributor towards the erection of this chapel, have since been inscribed under stained windows in the chancel. death of Colonel Mountain was a heavy affliction to the Bishop, (though more than lightened by the knowledge of his happy and peaceful end,) particularly as it came upon him at a time of unusual perplexity and distress of mind, and of bodily indisposition. And yet, even at the first, he thought more of his sister than of himself. Just after hearing of his loss he wrote:

The

Two deacons were ordained for the diocese of Quebec by other Bishops.

W

"Two brothers never loved each other better than your uncle A. and I. It has pleased God to cut off my hope of ever seeing him again in this world. I copy what your uncle J. says: Our dear brother Armine is with his Saviour. He died of fever, after a few days' illness, on the 8th February. He suffered no pain, and was tranquil and conscious to the last. His expiring words were, peace, pardon, salvation.' My poor sister C., weak and shattered as she is, and bound up in him, and constantly familiar with the proofs of his tender affection, cannot, humanly speaking, long survive this blow, but God can strengthen her, if He see good, according to her need. The three of my father's children who have gone in years of maturity were all younger than myself. In the few years, at best, remaining to me, I must only pray and hope that I be not unfaithful. My work grows very complicated, and the different offices which I hold embarrass me by their united claims. At this moment I do not see my way through all the arrangements to be made either for diocese or parish. But if we conscientiously do the best we can with the means at our disposal, and decide all questions which perplex us with a single eye, we must leave the issue to God Himself. Your mother is of course in sorrow, but

she has a disciplined Christian mind."

I may here fitly introduce some fuller notice of the event referred to in connection with the foundation of the chapel at Sillery, though it carries us back to the year 1850. I was unwilling to interrupt my narrative of the important public events of that year by any details of private history, which I have accordingly reserved for this place. And perhaps I cannot here more appropriately recur to the loss of the only one of the Bishop's children who grew up to manhood, and did not survive him, than by introducing a letter from his brother, written from India in reference to that event, in August, 1850:

"Little did I dream, my dearest brother, when I sent you, in reply to your kind letter of March, a long, gossiping epistle, that I was sending it to the house of mourning; little did I dream, when I complained of not hearing from our young soldier, that he was in that mysterious world from which no missive can reach us! Most truly and deeply do I sympathize with you and with the afflicted mother! Heavy is the hand of our God upon you. He alone can send you comfort, and He will! I feel for you in my inmost heart, and know that my loss, compared with yours, is light.

Mentioned at the close of chapter xiv., p. 224.

are

Yet I mourn, too, for myself. Jacob has left but one other of our name and kindred in the British army. He was the only one in my branch of my profession; of all my nephews and nieces the only one with whom I corresponded; the only one with whom, since their childhood, I have been at all associated; one who was much attached to me. I was to him, poor fellow, for four years, a strict and exacting chief, but I believe he gave me credit for having his interest at heart, and I, vain worm, looked forward to the day when he should be again my companion in arms. I believe that you may look back upon his brief career with unmingled satisfaction. I never saw nor heard of any participation on his part in any of the vices or follies of his fellow-soldiers. His affection for his parents and brother and sisters was predominant in his breast, never absent from him, and I never saw nor heard of any departure on his part from the lessons of his home. I shall dwell a little on his professional career, as, although you live in a garrison town, you do not, perhaps, exactly feel as I do the importance of the situation which he held. His career embraced a period of about seven years and a half. He was actually serving with his regiment about six years and a half, out of which he was just four years adju tant, never absent from his duty, I may almost say, an hour. To pass through Dublin as an adjutant, to serve as such under three successive sharp commanders requires a thorough knowledge of professional details; the youngster possessed this; and though neither I nor Colonel men to allow the adjutant to command the regiment, as too many colonels virtually do, an adjutant must always have greater power of good and evil, a more immediate influence over the mass of a regiment than any other officer except the commander, greater opportunities of giving pleasure and pain. How our poor boy acted under these circumstances shall appear. He devoted himself to the regiment; he did his duty, and did it well and strictly, but he never lost an occasion of doing an act of kindness, of working upon men by their better feelings, of extending charity to those in need. Had he been an A.D.C., and well spoken of, I should not value it a button. It might be that he carved a ham well, or was a favourite with his general's wife's lap-dog. Had he been a D. A. Adjutant or Quartermaster General, and much bepraised, I would not give a brass farthing for it. It might be that he wrote a good hand, and was obsequious to the head of his department. But when a lad, after four years' continued service as an adjutant under three commanders, dies repected by all, lamented by noncommissioned officers and men; when we find that his commanding officer was quite cast down, that his brother-officers mourned, that many of the soldiers cried like children, that poor women whom he had assisted grieve at the news of his death (this is what I hear from Gibraltar, from more than one undoubted source) we may believe, without fear of mistake, that he was a good and faithful soldier, and a right-minded and kind-hearted man. The staff is the post for show, for amusement, and in truth (though