it, for he took his hand, and said, 'Good-bye, thanks.' After the doctor had gone, he said, 'What did you gather from his saying this? I think he means that he can't help me any more.' Later on, he looked at me, pointing his finger upward, saying, with such a beautiful expression, 'Heaven;' 'Saviour, Saviour.' I knew the Lord was with him and upheld him in his arms. Later in the evening, Dean Bond came (I had his hand in mine all those hours), and I told him not to pray loud, for fear of waking him. But when Mr. B. spoke of the Lord Jesus, he turned his eyes to him, held out his hand, and kissed that of Mr. Bond, and said quite cheerfully, 'Good-bye.' Then, after talking with me, Mr. Bond offered up another prayer, and Philip again looked so happily at him. Then Mr. B., before leaving, put his hands on Philip's head, saying, 'Peace be with you: God be with you :' upon which he responded with such a cheerful 'Amen.' He looked so peaceful and happy, just after sleeping."

And so he looked the next morning, in the sleep of death: "so happy, so lovely—as if he was going to utter a bright thought."

THE death chamber was filled with flowers, the tokens of love from many friends and flowers were strewn upon the coffin.*

* Some time after Philip's death there was found a paper of "Directions for my Funeral, November 4, 1843," which he read over and approved on his birthdays in 1848-49-50. He made his protest against the great evils of conducting funerals according to the present customs. Among other directions he says, "Let the coffin be the plainest possible, such as very poor people would use. Let there be no handsome palls or other mock finery. Let no mourning of any kind be given away: I should prefer that none be worn. If anything, let flowers be worn, and strewed on the coffin; and let there be signs of gladness, Let a hymn be sung at the grave. Let no intoxicating drinks be used on any account whatever. Let the grave be simple: there need not be a new one set apart for me. I care not whom I lie with; we are all brothers. If wished, let my name and dates, without titles and without character, be engraved on a stone, with a verse of a hymn or Scripture: but not one which shows praise to any, but God. I should prefer a mound of earth with some

It was met by Dean Bond and other clergymen at St. George's Church, which was draped with mourning and filled with those who grieved for their loss: the organist played the "Dead March in Saul,” which Philip was so fond of, and the tune of “Lead, kindly light." The body was followed by about a hundred persons of all ranks in life, and of various churches, and by his scholars. It was laid in the Mount Royal Cemetery, which had especially attracted him by its beauty (see pp. 188, 261). The ground was purchased and given to his widow by his attached friend Dr. Dawson: and a marble cross is now placed there, which bears, as he would have wished, only his name and the dates of birth and death: and "Erected in affectionate remembrance by some of his former pupils.” *

The widow's heart was comforted by the utmost affection and kindness. Dr. Campbell refused any fee for his loving and devoted attendance: and there were many instances which showed how Philip was remembered as one who freely gave, and whose memory awakened a similar disinterestedness. It would have cheered him had he known, as fully as it has since been revealed, how parents ascribed to him much of the good that had taken root in their sons' hearts: and how some of

flowers (without a stone)— —a white rose, a pink, and some snowdrops or some lilies of the valley. Let none of my family come from a distance. Let no favourable accounts of character appear in any papers or periodicals. Let the contents of this paper be made known wherever it may do

good."

He then said that if his body could be made serviceable to the ends of science, it might be dissected. In his last will he wrote: "I direct my body to be given for dissection to some Medical School. .. Care to be taken that no sermon be preached, or eulogy appear in the papers." These directions were not known to those who arranged for his funeral; which, however, accorded with his desire (1843):-"Let all be done in simplicity, in peace, in hopefulness, and in trust."

*The monument, erected on a granite base, resembles that of his mother at Bristol, but is on a larger scale (nine feet in height). His widow wrote in 1878, when she first visited the spot after the winter (during which the delicate shrubs are taken into the greenhouses attached to this most wonderfully lovely place): "The head gardener saw me. I told him what I had come for; but I supposed he did not know me. He said, 'Oh yes, Mrs. Carpenter, I know you: and I loved the Doctor, and I will take care of the place; but not for pay. What beautiful prayers he made, and what temperance speeches!' Then he gave orders to his men," and the bed was prepared, and her flowers planted.

these boys loved him. One who had gone to a school at a distance wrote: "I always thought of Dr. Carpenter as being a kind of father to me. Ever since last Saturday, I have scarcely thought of anything else: and when I went to tell the head-master I could scarcely utter a word. In our room I

used frequently to tell the boys what I had learnt from him, and all that he said against the bad habits practised at so many boarding-schools. They all expressed a wish that some day they would be able to see him and last week, when I told them he was no more, they all felt sorry, and the usual fights did not take place that week. unite in saying that whenever they think of smoking or drinking, they remember his warning, and will not have anything to do with either."

and

Dean Bond (now Bishop of Montreal) made a simple and touching address, on the Sunday following his death, to the large Sunday school (500 to 600) of St. George's Church :"We to-day mourn the loss of a great man. We little know how heavy our loss. Many of you are not able to appreciate how great our loss. . . . We did not know his value. He was so humble, so ready to take the smallest class in the school, and yet . . . his usefulness was so varied, so ready, so adapted to the work appointed him. There was so much that was hidden from the eye and ear, the result of faithful prayer and faithful study. Scripture explained by Scripture was his delight: his countenance lighted up, and his eye beamed, when a happy illustration made plain some point he desired to impress. We shall miss him from his seat, awaiting the call to work: we shall miss him from the class: we shall miss him from this platform. How many of us will miss his warm greeting and words of affection. . . . How peaceful were his last hours: how emphatic in faith and love and assured hope were almost his last words addressed to me: how feelingly he joined in the last prayer by his bedside, and then affectionately bade us farewell."

The Rev. S. Massey (of the Presbyterian Mission) preached on the Sunday evening (May 27), from Acts xi. 24: “He was a good man," and applied the words to Philip :-"Theirs was

almost the only pulpit he had occupied in the city, although an ordained minister of the Gospel. They had often listened to his earnest and godly addresses. He believed his freest, happiest, and most unrestrained efforts to do good were made when lending them a helping hand in their work at Chaboillez Square." After stating that Philip had come to Montreal in great measure to improve its sanitary condition, and referring to his eminent labours in this cause, and "his burning words of warning and instruction as an advocate of temperance, the preacher continued: "He was himself, practically, what he asked others to be. He could say with St. Paul, 'What ye have heard and seen in me, do.' . . . His independence of character, forgetfulness of self, kindness of heart, and the deep interest he felt and manifested in all that concerned the welfare of his fellow-men, were such as are found in few, even of those who make greater pretensions to piety. He hated pretentiousness and show. His individuality was marked and strong: at a glance you could see that he was no ordinary man. He had such faith in the loving-kindness of God, that he seemed never to doubt his own personal salvation. Indeed, he was so absorbed in thinking and working for others, that he had but little time to think of himself. He [the preacher] knew well that his kindness to the poor, the widow, and the fatherless, was only limited by the extent of his opportunities and means; but he never made a show of his good deeds. He did good by stealth.' With all his acquirements and learning, he was humble, lowly, and kind: and if to any it will be said at the last day, 'Inasmuch as ye did it unto these ye did it unto Me,' it will be said to him."

6

"The Montreal Gazette," on the day after his death, said, "Our age has lost one of its most eminent and useful men," and gave an excellent summary of his work, written, it is understood, by Dr. Dawson, whose account of his scientific labours will shortly follow. Most of it was copied by "The Montreal Witness" (to which he had so often written on matters relating to human welfare), and it was added: "Dr. Carpenter's was one of the noblest lives ever devoted to the