CHAP. XXVIII.

Summer of 1862-Letters to his family-Latest acts of his life—Last illness and death.

It was perhaps the peacefulness of his diocese and parish which produced in this year (1862) an unwonted, or rather a more uniform, cheerfulness of mind, and apparently renewed strength of body. A clergyman in Quebec wrote of him in the summer of this year-"Our dear Bishop seems to have taken a new lease of his life." Alas for human foresight! God was bringing him "peace at the last," to prepare him, in great mercy, for the blessed state, "where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." He gave him full strength of body and mind for His work so long as He willed that he should do it here. His letters to his children written during this year are overflowing, as ever, with affection and interest in them, and all that belonged to them, though generally written in great haste, from the pressure of business. I make one or two extracts from those addressed to myself:

"It is really a matter of lively interest to follow you in your Norfolk wanderings and your visit to Norwich. *** It is very delightful to observe, incidentally, in your account of things, the still growing recovery of

He was never fond of walking, though an admirable horseman, yet in August he rose one morning soon after five (having been in bed less than five hours), and walked more than two miles and back before breakfast to refresh himself with a swim in the St. Lawrence. He never lost an opportunity of going into the water when he had time on his journeyings, but this seldom presented itself at Quebec.

ancient usages and helps to reverence in the worship of God, and the earnestness of churchmen in making their worship really a thing of the first interest and importance.* The advance of religion in every other way is coupled with this, and goes on pari passu. Your description of your movements, and of the people, scenes, and objects with which you meet, but particularly your mention of my dear relatives still remaining, prompts a longing sigh to see my own country once more before I die: but it seems scarcely worth while for a person who will so soon have done forever with this world to undertake such a visit, and perhaps hardly justifiable to leave my charge when I have no great Church object to carry, and to incur an expense of which the amount might do very sensible good for different objects of religion or charity in this poor diocese. I have little to do now in the way of planning journeys except to journey about among my clergy and people, and to prepare myself better (which there is, ample room to do) for the last journey of all, seeking a better country, that is an heavenly. I do not deny that I could find great delight now in visiting the continent as well as in re-visiting England, but I believe it will end in my making up my mind to cross the Atlantic no more. *• * I hope and trust that the present little interruption of your ordinary labours will refresh your spirit and minister to your enjoyment and invigorate your health."

The remainder of the year 1862 was spent at home, with the exception of four short absences: one in August, to give a Sunday to Murray Bay, ninety miles below Quebec; the second to attend the Provincial Synod at Montreal, on his

In a letter written in 1844, he said, "O that we could see all churches like that which you describe! O vile, vile disfigurements which have overspread the houses of God in the land."

In a letter written nearly twenty years earlier, he said, "It is good to get a glimpse (or more if we can) of foreign lands. My early and continued longings after the continent I mentioned to you before. I have been a great traveller, but other travels have been ordered for me than those for which I once longed. In 1843 I travelled between 8,000 and 9,000 miles : and my memorable journey to the Rubicon through the waste howling wilderness,' affords more ground of thankfulness and satisfaction than if I had been enabled to gratify my tastes by a continental tour. Even now I should delight in going through the continental countries of Europe to Jerusalem. But I indulge in no such vision: all that I hope for is that, through the mercy of God, I may so pass through the journey of life, as to reach at last the Jerusalem which is above."

return from which he spent a Sunday in the neighbourhood of the St. Francis river, where his presence seemed to be required; the third to visit Bishop's College in October, and the last in December, to administer the holy communion at Portneuf, then served by a deacon.* In September he admitted a young Augustinian to deacon's Orders, who came to Canada. for the purpose of serving at Labrador, where he relieved his fellow-collegian who had preceded him. The Bishop was greatly interested in this young man, both for his work's sake, and for his own. In his sermon at the ordination he referred specially to the wants of Labrador, which produced a response, among others, the next day, in the shape of a donation of $100 from a member of the same family already alluded to in connection with the Church Home. He wrote to me saying that he meant to put this and the other sums by as the beginning of a fund for church-building &c. on the coast, to which he thought of adding, if he were spared, four hundred dollars himself. He was not spared, however, long enough to do this, but his thoughts and prayers were with the missionary at Labrador to the last. In his last illness, when he could not speak without the greatest pain and difficulty, and did so only on subjects which he wished specially to remember, he said one day, "Poor little C, God bless him and his work, and open the way for us there." And the very last word he uttered, when he saw his end closely approaching, before he turned to bless his children and dependents, was the single word "Labrador."

That end was drawing now much nearer than any one expected. One more ordination was held in Advent, when

• During this year he exhibited a proof of his desire for inter-communion with other branches of the Church, by permitting a clergyman in Swedish Orders, (with whom he was much pleased,) accredited by the Church in the United States, to officiate to his own countrymen among the emigrants at Quebec.

two others, who had been sent from St. Augustines,* were advanced to the priesthood. On Christmas Day he preached his last sermon, and celebrated the holy communion in the cathedral. He attended divine service in the afternoon at St. Michael's, and in the evening his children and grand-children, with one or two other friends, were gathered round him. I never saw him more happy and cheerful, or more animated in conversation. Little did we know that we should never so meet again. On St. Stephen's day I was surprised not to see him at church, and hearing that he had a cold, I went to Bardfield, but as he was asleep I would not disturb him. The next day he was still in bed, a most unusual thing, and though there was not supposed to be any ground for uneasiness, an indescribable feeling came over me, which told me the end was not far off. On the following day (Sunday) I did not see him till after morning service, but while I was at the Sunday school I received a little note from my sister, telling me that the doctor pronounced him to be suffering from congestion of the lungs. I went to him as soon as possible, and found it was indeed "the beginning of the end." His medical adviser told me that, on account of his age, it was a serious matter. On the evening of Monday, the 29th, he insisted on my leaving him to go to a Christmas tree, which was to be given to my school-children, and which he would not allow me to postpone. But the poor children were in no mood for enjoyment, and it was a dull party, and soon over. On the Saturday evening, before any one was alarmed, he had been allowed to sit up for a little while, and he compelled all who were with him in the house to go to dinner. In their absence he went into his study, where there was no fire, to look for some books and papers which he wanted for his gardener's children, whom he always taught and examined himself on Saturday, and this greatly increased his cold.

See page 393.

His sufferings after Monday became very severe indeed, and no relief could be obtained, though all the best medical skill at command was employed. His chief care and first thoughts were still for his work and for others. When he found the doctor coming twice a day, he said, “I see this will be a tedious business, and I am thankful I have no visitation before me this winter, so I hope the diocese will not suffer much." And when a second physician was called in, he said to the first, "I see you think me very ill if you think I am in danger, you ought to tell me so, for I am not afraid to die: I know Whom I have believed." With reference to this he said to me a day or two afterwards, "I have been greatly humbled since I spoke to Dr. B. the other day. I spoke much too confidently, for though there is of course no limit to the efficacy of Christ's merits, there must be some to man's continuance in sin, and I have been a sinner for fifty years.' I asked him how he would have answered me if I had spoken so, saying that his answer would apply with ten thousand times more force to himself. He was constantly engaged in silent prayer with uplifted eyes, and sometimes he told me to pray with him, directing me to use particular prayers from the liturgy, when he found "the constant pain made it difficult to keep the mind in one track of devotion." One night, as he lay awake (for he scarcely ever so much as dosed), he made me get a slate and write down his wishes on some points, delivered, a word at a time, with pain and difficulty, and not all even intelligible. They all related to some kindness which he wished to shew to persons whom we should have been least likely to think of, or matters of importance to the diocese which he feared might be lost sight of. On the morning of New Year's day he took the slate and wrote himself" cheques for clergy and bills of exchange," that I might get his signature at once, without the risk of subjecting them to any delay in payment. I told him all had been arranged without it. He desired me to give his special thanks to the