doubt the knowledge that he was walking very near towards the verge of the unseen world drew his mind away from all other things; his physical strength was also steadily waning and indisposing him to further exertion. The writer had the melancholy pleasure of seeing him on the Wednesday morning preceding his death, but the invalid was not conscious of the presence of any one. From this time forward he sank rapidly. He made no complaint, and no one could tell what his sufferings were. He lay quite still most of the time, neither inviting nor refusing the nourishment forced upon him, or conscious of the attempts made to minister to his comfort.

On Thursday and Friday there were still gleams of intelligence lighting up his countenance, and some hopes were even then entertained, soon to be clouded over, for on Friday evening the physicians ceased to press upon him nourishment or stimulants, as it became manifest any further effort would only do harm. After consultation the medical attendants were obliged to confess that the resources of their art were exhausted. Thenceforward all that could be done was to soothe the patient by the kindness of the grief-stricken but loving members of his family. On Saturday it was quite evident to all that the end was very near. The long struggle was at an end. The once strong frame became weak as an infant's. The massive head and expressive features indicated as much as ever the gigantic intellect and the warm heart, but the wasted form told at once the severity of the battle for life and the nearness of its close. The Angel of Death had entered the room and taken possession, and in the stillness of the quiet chamber his presence could be felt. Everything recalled Hood' description of a death-bed:

"Our very hopes belied our fears,

Our fears our hopes belied;

We thought her dying when she slept,
And sleeping when she died."

Early on Sunday, a beautiful May morning, shortly before the break of day, the sad scene closed. The Angel of the Covenant had come to convey the spirit home, and, to use Longfellow's words, "Two angels came out where only one went in," leaving in the room only that still, inanimate form to represent him who, but a few weeks before, strode through the rooms and halls of the happy home in all the vigour of matured manhood, rejoicing in his domestic peace and happiness. Many friends calling, as usual during his illness, on Sabbath morning learned of the sad event and spread the tidings through the city. Though a fatal ending was fully expected, yet it created the most painful and profound impression. In most if not all the churches, his death was referred to in solemn and touching terms. All felt that a great man had passed away, and that a great calamity had

overtaken the country. The tragic circumstances attendant on his death, and the high personal character of the lamented statesman, combined to evoke the most profound expressions of sympathy, and caused a feeling of deep gloom to pervade the city. Many eyes were suffused with tears in the several churches where reference was made to his character and death. Political and even personal differences were forgotten in the general desire to show kindness and sympathy. Every person showed themselves only anxious to say and do what could be said and done to assuage the grief and comfort the hearts of those who had been so suddenly and cruelly bereft of a tender husband and loving father.

Other cities, and the towns and villages, were informed by telegraph of his decease almost as soon as it was known in Toronto, and everywhere the same touching sympathetic feeling was shown. In many churches prayer had been publicly made for his recovery from the moment that danger was apprehended, while hope justified an expectation of recovery. The constant inquiries from all quarters could not be all answered, but the telegraph companies were good enough to give an extensive circulation to the physicians' reports from day to day. This in a large measure kept the country informed of the hopes and fears entertained. It should also be stated that the leading conservative journals showed the utmost kindness and good feeling throughout. A man so pronounced in opinion, and so energetic in expressing and giving effect to his views on all public questions, could scarcely be expected to escape much personal antagonism, more or less bitter and intense, but in the hour of his extremity few if any had the disposition to remember past feuds; while hosts of warm personal and political friends all over Canada felt a grief at his tragic death second only to that felt for intimate and near blood relations.

The arrangements for the funeral were made with the simple understanding that the friends of the deceased would themselves provide for order and regularity in paying the last mark of respect to his remains. Arrangements were made in many distant towns and villages to send deputations to represent the respective communities. The vast multitude that attended showed that the people of the nearer towns and country very generally attended. Many of Mr. Brown's old associates and opponents in public life were present. His old personal and political friends, Sir Antoine Dorion and Hon. Alexander Mackenzie, were placed at his head in the procession; the other pall-bearers were Hon. Edward Blake, Sir Alexander Campbell, Sir Richard J. Cartwright, Hon. Archibald McKellar, Professor Wilson, Judge Morrison, Hon. G. W. Allan, Hon. L. S. Huntington, Hon. David Christie, Hon. Wm. McMaster and Sir W. P. Howland.

The day was a beautiful May morning, and all without seemed bright and gay as the sad procession was formed. The streets in the vicinity of his late residence were so densely crowded by people from city and country that it seemed impossible to clear a way, yet a few moments sufficed to form into regular order. The various delegations promptly fell into line—that from the county of Lambton, led by Rev. Mr. Thompson of Sarnia, taking the lead, as the first county that had given Mr. Brown a seat in parliament. The streets by which the procession moved to reach the Necropolis Cemetery were lined the whole way by a multitude of sympathetic people, who reverently uncovered as the cortege passed.

With these manifestations of universal sorrow and regard all that was mortal of George Brown was laid to rest beside a revered father and mother. Canada mourned for her accomplished son. The voice which had swayed popular assemblies so long and so powerfully was hushed in the silence of the tomb. The commanding figure and kindly impressive face disappeared from public view. No one could be more missed from the social and political life of the country. The place he occupied in all relations of the citizen and statesman must remain vacant for the present. His death in the ordinary course of nature would have evoked much feeling and sympathy, but the violent and sudden rupture of all the ties of social, business, and political life made the bereaved home, the business office, and the council of the political party he was identified with, miss all the more the genial hearty face and the commanding intellect which had long been so well known and appreciated in almost every county in Ontario.

CHAPTER XXV.

MR. BROWN'S SERVICES TO LIBERALISM IN CANADA. ESTIMATE OF HIS PUBLIC AND PRIVATE CHARACTER.

All felt that

Mr. Brown's Canadian career extended over a period of thirty-six years. He came to the country in early manhood with little or no influence or fortune, depending entirely on his personal exertions. In one year he established his reputation as a journalist, and obtained the confidence of the leading men in the liberal ranks. in him the party had secured a potent ally, and his newspaper within a year became its recognized organ. At that time newspaper literature had not any special influence. The seat of government was in a small city, and the administration itself was not hampered or strengthened by keen criticism or warm support from the press. Political life was in a changing uncertain condition. The new constitution was yet in its infancy. The promoters of reform in former days were more concerned in the exposure of grievances than in the construction of a new political edifice broad enough to embrace all desirable reforms. Popular rights and religious equality had to a great extent been conceded, but much remained to be accomplished. A class of reformers, becoming less numerous every day, remained, who devoted themselves and their newspapers to fighting past battles, rehearsing old grievances, and denouncing the Family Compact. This class had a goodly portion of the "know-nothing" element; its members seemed to resent the coming from other lands of sterling reformers as almost an intrusion, and their advocacy of a building up, broad policy, establishing a really responsible government, was often met by carping criticism and personal attack.

Mr. Baldwin and some other leaders of the liberal party were, to say the least, timorous and undecided in their course, and the GovernorGeneral exercised an improper influence in the administration of affairs. Into such elements the new candidate for popular favour precipitated himself with all his characteristic energy, sweeping aside the cobwebs of the past, taking his stand on the unassailable ground that all classes and creeds must enjoy equality in the eye of the law, and that all the class legislation of the past must be speedily repealed. The result was that he soon obtained an influence in the country generally which was unparalleled.

Liberal statesmen felt that they had a powerful supporter in the

new journalist, but some of them also felt that a new power was put in motion which would compel them to move on or subject them to be trampled over in the inevitable onward movement. The journal commenced by the young Scotchman became immediately the recognized organ of the liberal party, and in little more than eight years after he became a resident of Canada, he was elected a member of the legislature for one of the largest counties. This success was partly owing to his great energy, partly to his power as a speaker, but mainly to the influence he wielded as editor of the Globe. The intense earnestness and vigour he displayed as a speaker at popular meetings, enhanced greatly by his fine presence, enabled him to communicate an enthusiasm to his audience which seldom failed to carry him through triumphantly.

His information on public questions of the day, and on historical facts bearing upon them, was very extensive; while his skill in debate, his rapid utterance and enthusiastic energy, often overwhelmed opponents who were themselves able men. There was no man amongst the public men of the past generation so effective as a political speaker; but the very qualities and circumstances which gave him his influence and power with the masses, and constituted him a natural leader, also conduced to raise up many bitter enemies. He was often assailed by members of his own party, some of whom objected to the rigid code of political morality as to measures which he inculcated. His path as a reform journalist was often crossed by time-servers who were willing to compromise principles, or postpone action thereon, for the sake of office. Sooner or later this class came under the lash of the Globe, and some of them never quite forgot what they conceived to be an injury. In some cases the denunciatory language was undoubtedly too severe, and possibly sufficient allowance was not made for the initial difficulties to be overcome in getting into working order the system of parliamentary or responsible government. On the other hand, no political leader ever was more disposed to welcome back members of the party who had been temporarily alienated from their friends. It became his duty, in pursuance of the policy he adopted, to condemn the course of the reform leader, Robert Baldwin. Nothing need be said here as to what was involved in that act, as their relations have been already dealt with in this volume. There was undoubtedly a considerable portion of the liberal party that more or less sympathized with the timid policy of this statesman, or rather who admired his personal character so much that they looked more lightly than they should upon his failure to carry out the pledges made or programme understood or adopted before the general elections of 1844 and 1847, but who were quite loyal to the party generally. For a time this class blamed the Globe as having been needlessly severe to an able and