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College at Bombay, and been Vice-Chancellor of No name certainly deserves to be so well rememthe University and Director of Public Instruction bered in connection with the latest and most there ; but he was by nature, as well as training, memorable event in its history. It is sad to think highly qualified to be the head of the Metropolitan of his having passed so suddenly away before its University. Ile had a great talent of administra- glory was well spent. But his great services will not tion, and delighted especially to organise and direct pass away. Many friends, not only in Edinburgh, matters connected with education. He possessed will long miss his friendship and mourn his death. a wide knowledge of educational methods of the We cannot close our brief notice better than requirements not merely of higher or University with the following extract from the last effort of instruction, but of primary and secondary as well. his pen—the striking address which he delivered to He had great facility with his pen, and could draught the students at the opening of the present session :'schemes with an ease, intelligence, and distinct In the addresses which we have received from foreign ness of outline seldom rivalled. Ile was, more
Universities, we find in some cases that appeals are made over, a man of cultivated urbanity of manner, and
to us to aid in withstanding the naterialistic and
pessimist philosophies which are to so great an exof eminently peaceful and conciliatory tendencies, tent oppressing the continent of Europe. These are while by no means
appeals to the philo. lacking in reforming
sophy and to the attitude zeal. No post, there
of the University of Edin
burgh in the future. fore, could have fitted
Who can tell what the him better than that
course of human thought which he filled in
in another fifty years may
be? But I see no indicaEdinburgh, although
tion in the present, and it may be regretted
no reason to expect in the that details of admin
future, that the Univer. istration occupied him
sity of Edinburgh, on its so much, to the ex
philosophic side, however
much it may admire the clusion of more intel
fruitful methods of Dar. lectual workfor which
winism in its earlier he was also eminently
phase, will accept the fitted. His edition of
mechanical cosmism of
Darwinism in its extreme Aristotle's Ethics,
developments, or its before he went to
clumsy and infelicitous India, showed amply
attempts to evolve reason what he was capable
out of matter ; nor,
again, that our successors of doing as a student
will consent, in obedience and author. His
to the unwholesome dic. Story of the Uni
tates of a few jaundiced versityof Edinburgh,”
spirits, to renounce all in two volumes, in
hope of human happiness
in this life or another. the year of his death,
These philosophies assume proved his powers of
an attitude as if the last intellectual labour un
word on the greatest diminished; but his
questions had been
spoken. But what a pen no longer seemed
want of imagination to more so gracefully,
is this! Probably the or with such bright
last word can never be ness and compactness as before.
spoken, in a world where
we know in part, and see as in a glass darkly. But in the One is apt to think that higher work of this meantime, metaphysics, so far from being discarded as a kind would have been more fitted for him, and
scholastic dream, seem to have a new future opened to proved a inore lasting memorial of his genius.
them ; they are now looked up to and called upon, and I But it is difficult to say. He could hardly have
read in a German book “ that the great necessity of the done all that he did for the Edinburgh
present day is an organic fusion of idealism with the
results of modern physical science.”. Should this be University if his mind had been intellectually carried out, metaphysics will justify their name, as the preoccupied apart from it. And Edinburgh and science that comes after physical science : thus will they its University, at least, have no cause to regret culminating point and crown of the other sciences. And
take the place assigned to them by Aristotle as the that he gave them so much of his mind and work.
so it may come to pass that here or elsewhere it may be He filled a place in the society of the metropolis given to metaphysics to justify, or even to demonstrate and in the progressive life of its great College Faith, and to give assurance that the glorious increase of
to the reason, those beliefs which we now hold to by which no one could so well have filled, and which
physical knowledge is not destined to be a mere increase no one can well replace. He will be remembered
of sorrow; that the hope of the Christian not an idle in after years as identified with a special era of the dream ; that mankind is not left fatherless, with no University's prosperity and widespread celebrity. answering heart in the void abyss.
“ Have you come home a rich man?” asked ERNEST'S STORY.
"No," replied Ernest. “I've paid my passage“HULLO!” said the blacksmith cheerily, waking money, and come home with three or four pounds from the doze into which he had fallen."That's in my pocket, that's all; but you shall hear about right, Ernest, you're come to pay your old it. I soon got work after I landed. In New neighbour a visit.”
York a good workman can always make a living. “I wanted to see how you were getting along. Of course, I wasn't fool enough to think I could I was sorry to hear the missus is ill.”
go on drinking and make a fortune too, and I “Ay, but she's getting on famous now. had quite made up my mind to be sober and She'll soon be all right, please God; Carry Croome respectable. But the temptation soon proved too takes fine care of her.”
strong. I fought against it, I honestly did, but “Miss Croome is single still, I hear,” observed it was too much for me. When I had money to Ernest.
pay for it drink I must have, and what I earned “Yes, but not for want of chances. He'll be was speedily spent. Then there was the old a lucky man as gets her, Ernest,” said the clerk, story. I went from bad to worse, lost my place, significantly, as he lit up a fresh pipe. “You then grew ashamed of myself and tried to pull up, smoke, don't you? There's some good ’bacca in and for a few weeks I did keep sober; and it the jar on the dresser. Will you take a glass of seems curious that no sooner did I think I'd got ale?”
the better of my dreadful enemy, drink, than the "No ale for me, thanks,” said Ernest, fetching temptation would seize me again stronger than a chair, and placing it beside that of the elder ever, and again I would give way and fall.” man; “ but I'll have a smoke by your leave.”
“It's just like any other sin, I suppose,” “No ale!” repeated Joe. " Turned total observed Smithers, as Ernest stopped to knock abstainer? You're changed indeed."
the ashes out of his pipe. “ The Bible says, ' Let Ernest nodded. “'Twas needed," he said him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he gravely.
“In more ways than one,” continued the clerk, “That's the truth, I think,” said Ernest. “If old Master Brooks had lived to hear where "Well, to cut a long story short, this sort of life you was this morning, it would have rejoiced his went on for nearly three years. If I kept sober heart. He always took such an interest in his for a few weeks, and got a little money together, master's son.”
the demon of drink was sure to overcome me, and “Ah! I've thought of his words and yours I would begin again, and go on till I had spent many a time. The fool hath said in his heart, all. The end of it was, I had a serious illness, and There is no God'-and your words, that I should was taken to the hospital.” live to repent. I had hoped no minister would be “Was it then you began to see the error of at my death-bed. I was very near death once, your way?”. and I remembered that.”
“Not so soon. I was well nursed and " I should dearly love to hear you tell it all, doctored, and after a bit I began to mend. Ern,” said Joe, crossing his legs, and leaning There was a good man who used to come and back in his chair.
read and pray in the ward, and he tried to speak “ 'Tis a long story,” replied the young man. to me of repentance and a better life. But I “No matter, we've all the afternoon afore us." would not listen to him. I told him quite civilly
Ernest cleared his throat and began. “You that I did not believe in what he said, and begged know how I left Broadmeade-in shame and he would not waste his time on me. He looked disgrace. It was pride drove me to go to very sorry, and went away, saying he would pray America. I could not bear to stop where the for me, just as Carry said; and I believe he-theyneighbours could point the finger of scorn at me. both have, or I should not be here now." Here I'd lost my place at Dorton, and my name had got Ernest paused, and after a minute's silence, into the police reports. She (Carry Croome) resumed his narrative. “The doctors told me would have nothing to say to me, so I went off. that I should kill myself if I went on drinking; I meant to make money over there in New York, and one of them, who was a philanthropic sort of and come back a rich man, and just let Broadmeade man, gave me a good talking to. He did not folk see that he whom they had despised could speak of religion, but he told me I must exert my buy them all up yet.”
better self, and not allow my lower nature to get
the better of me. He advised me to leave off again, so spending all I earned. At last my health drink altogether, and to take the pledge; also, gare way. I was very ill again of the same comhe recommended me to try what pure country air plaint for which I was taken into the hospital. and a change of work would do for me. Some But now it was a very different thing. Then I friend of his had started timber felling in a large had the best of nursing and doctoring; now there way in Canada, and he said he would advise me was no doctor near, and poor Uncle Abe and to go up to one of these logging camps and work British Bill did the best they could for me in a there."
rough way. I got worse and worse, and began to " What's a logging camp?” asked Joe.
feel I could not recover. As a last chance, I “Well, you see, there are vast forests in begged Bill to try and get a doctor to come and America, far away from towns, and if a man
Old Uncle Abe said . It warn't no good; contracts to cut down a quantity of trees, he dey doctors dey didn't come all de way up dere sends up a lot of men, who camp in the woods till ’nless dey was paid.' I had no money, but my the work is done. They put up a log hut, or mates, who were kind-hearted chaps enough, many shanty, of rough wood, engage a man to cook of whom had a fellow-feeling for me, subscribed and do for them, and there they stop till the enough to get a doctor, Britişh Bill volunteered timber within a reasonable distance is felled. I to lose a day's work and ride the fifteen miles to went up to this camp. There were about twenty Wild Cat Creek to fetch him. By the time he fellows of all sorts--Yankees, Scots, Irishmen, came I was insensible, and did not come to myself and Canadians, but only one Englishman, whom till after his departure. I asked Bill what the they called • British Bill.' William was not his doctor bad said, but though he tried to make the name, but it did not matter, for we were never best of it, I could guess that the report was not called by our real appellations, but all had nick favourable. Waking the next evening from a names. Mine was "Sandy,' because of my fair feverish sleep, tormented by hideous dreams, I hair. Our boss (that is the man who overlooked heard one of the men say to Bill, who stood at the work, selected, and marked the trees, and so my bedside, · Bet you a dollar poor Sandy hands on) was strong temperance man. They said he in his checks in less than twenty-four hours.'” came from a State where you, couldn't get any The sexton looked up with a puzzled expresliquor except it was smuggled. I don't know
sion. the truth of that, but, anyhow, he would have " That's a slang term for dying, you know," none in his camp. Uncle Abe, our old negro explained Ernest. “I cannot tell you how I felt, cook, made us plenty of tea and cocoa, and we Smithers, at these words, particularly as I heard had to make the best of that; but sometimes a fit Uncle Abe say, · Dere aint no hope for 'im pore of longing for drink overtook the men, and one or soul. De doctor he say as much. •Hush!' two of them would go to the bar in the nearest said Bill, 'he's waking; don't let the poor fellow village, ten miles away. They seldom came hear us talk like this.' As I lay there, and back till they had spent all their money. Good understood I could not get well, I remembered ness! how the boss used to swear at them! but of your words at the forge; and how old Brooks course it was no use. He had to take them on had said I should find I could not do without God again when they chose to come back, as labour when trouble really came. I believed in God was scarce. Of course the men were not all alike. now, and Heaven, and Hell, too. I would bare British Bill, for instance, never touched a drop; giren worlds if I could have really thought I said he didn't like it. The boss kept a sharp could die like a brute beast, with no hope of a look-out on me, for my friend the doctor had life to come. No, I knew there was another life, written about me. For six or eight weeks I kept and I knew for me it would be a life of eternal steady enough. Then all of a sudden the old misery. How I longed now that I could find craving came back; down I went to the bar. myself back in Broadmeade, where Mr. Wilson Of course, I said, I should only just have a glass could come and pray by my bed, or even in the or two; but the old villain of a bar-keeper took hospital, where I could see the man whose care I did not keep to that, and when I had ministrations I had refused. I tried to pray, but drunk up all my money he turned me out of no words would come to me. I tried to remember doors. I felt so ashamed of myself that I had a what I had learnt at Sunday-school, but all seemed great mind not to go back to the logging camp,
gone from me.
Bill,'' I cried, can't you but I could not get work elsewhere. I called pray?' I startled him, as he sat by my bed, and myself all the fools in the world, for I had just he looked very much astonished. You must got together a nice little sum; and here I was, pray,'I cried, 'or I'm a lost soul!' Bill shook his obliged to begin the world again. I vowed it head, sadly. "I can't remember anything !' he should be the last time, and I kept my resolution said. Then seeing my distress, he added, I'll go for three or four weeks; then I broke out again, and see if any one has got a Bible or prayerand after that I did not seem to care, but went on book.' working for a month or so, then down to the bar “Why, where had he been brought up?"
inquired Smithers in surprise. " You said he guess, for you know how a good man can speak was an Englishman."
of the Saviour's love, even for sinners, and His “So he was, but he told me afterwards he'd precious death upon the cross. I had heard it never said his prayers since he went to school, so before, with the outward ear, but now it seemed he'd pretty well forgot them.
to go down into my very heart. It was “I felt like a man in despair when Bill came revelation- a new life. Mr. Taylor knew someback to say no one in the camp had Bible or thing of doctoring. He had his medicine chest prayer-book. Uncle Abe indeed said in a very with him, and either his remedies, or my own woe-begone voice, ‘Dis chile 'ab one once. llad strong constitution, I don't know which, began to 'im gib me at camp meeting, but ’im got tore, and get the better of my illness ; or perhaps I had de rats dey got 'im, an knaw 'im; wish I kep de taken a turn for the better before, though no one pieces now.'
knew it. Mr. Taylor had to go the next day, “There is something, I know, about a Saviour," but he left both a Bible and prayer-book for me I said. “Oh, Bill, if you could only remember; and Bill, and he marked places where my mate and a prayer, Our Father' it began, but I can't could read to me. Poor Bill was quite pleased at think. My poor head is all in a whirl. Can't you he had a talk to the parson too, and promised remember?
him never to get up or go to bed again without “No, I can't,' replied Bill. Then, as a bright prayer. thought struck him. • Perhaps if I was to go “ In ten days' time when Mr Taylor came to down to the Creek I could get a minister, or some see me, I was mending, but very weak. He one.'
brought his son-in-law, Mr. Frank, with him, and "I caught at the idea eagerly, as a drowning as they saw I needed care and attention, such as man catches at a straw, Bill started at once, he I could not have in the camp, these kind fellowknew there was no time to be lost. He told me countrymen of mine said they would take me back afterwards, that on his way he thought more with them to Mr. Frank's farm, where his wife seriously than ever he had done in his life before;
his life before; would nurse me till I was strong again. and when he was gone, I did what I suppose I They could not have been kinder to me at had never done before-prayed, prayed I might Frank's Grove, if I had belonged to their family. live till Bill came back with a clergyman.
Winter was coming on, and you know the cold is “ On his arrival at Wild Cat Creek, Bill found intense out there; snow often lies from November the minister of the little church was ill in bed. till April. I was too weak to venture out for a While he was enquiring at the hotel bar how far long time, and Mrs. Frank, who was a perfect he would have to go for another, a gentleman lady, and a most sweet, good woman, tended me accosted him, saying, 'I hear you are a fellow as if I had been her own brother. Mr. Taylor countryman by your accent. Is there anything remained at Frank's Grove about six weeks after I can do for you? I am a clergyman of the I went there. He was also very kind to me, he Church of England.'
read and prayed with me every day, and nursed “ Bill explained the circumstances, and the me too, when I had a relapse from a cold, and was gentleman who was waiting for a horse and trap again in some danger." to take him on his journey, said he would come “And you kept sober there, I suppose ? " with him at once. During their ride up to the asked Smithers, who had been listening with the camp, he told Bill his name was Taylor, and that greatest attention. he was on his way to his son-in-law's farm, about “I did,” replied Ernest. “Gradually I left off eighty miles off; that he had a living in England, the stimulants which I was forced to have while and had come out to visit his daughter and her 1 was so very weak, and before Mr. Taylor left husband.
I took the pledge. I knew now that I could not “ While Bill was absent, I was in a wretched overcome my terrible propensity without the help state of misery, fearing his errand would prore of God. I knew I must expect to be tempted to unsuccessful, or that I should not live till he break my oath, and that prayer and watchfulness returned. Old Uncle Abe racked his brain to alone could enable me to resist. We were a very remember scraps of camp meeting prayers and long way from a town at Frank's Grove, and it hymns, but he could not tell me of a Saviour, or was many months before I ventured to go there, give me any real comfort
As time went on,
the lest the temptation should prove too strong for old negro would run to the door to see if any one I found the fact that I had taken the was coming. At last, when I was getting almost pledge a great safeguard. When it was known exhausted, I heard him cry, Bress de Lord, dey I was an abstainer I was not invited to drink. is a-coming. Dere's Bill, an he's got a genelman It seems to me the best thing for a man who is wid 'im!'
inclined to take more than he ought. The sober “ I fainted when I heard the words, and when man who can be content with his glass at meals I recovered there was a stranger by my bed. I is a different thing. He does not, in my estimacan't tell you what followed, Smithers. You can tion, need to take the pledge."