IN every age men and women have been given to the world, the phases of whose character have been of a nature so heroic and transcendent as to challenge the admiration of succeeding generations. It is certainly indicative of goodness among men, that the pure, the unselfish and the philanthropic command our highest esteem, and, by universal consent, these names are written on the scroll of fame as being worthy of our emulation. We instinctively gather around such characters, and if we do not stoop to hero worship, we accord them a place in our affections, separate and distinct from the great mass of mankind. By our conduct in cherishing a warm remembrance of their actions, we furnish the most positive proof of our belief that they have done something towards lifting to a higher plane our common humanity. No one can look at the life of Howard without being permeated to some extent by the far-reaching sympathy of one who spent a life and a fortune to improve the condition of the unfortunate and the helpless in the prisons of Europe. Lying under the ban though they were, for offences against the laws of their country, still they were human, and the expiation of their crimes by the loss of their liberty too often ended in the loss of their lives. But he alone stood up in their behalf, and the world is better that he lived.

The ever-to-be-remembered story of Grace Darling exhibits a phase of character which could only have been the growth of the purest unselfishness and the warmest devotion to the duty she conceived to he owing to her fellow-creatures.

On the 6th day of September, 1838, a terrific storm was raging over the Farne Islands. The sea was running mountains high in mad tumultuousness around the lighthouse where she resided, and rushing on in foaming fury, was dashed into fragments on the beetling cliffs along the shore. Through the darkness of that terrible night, and above the roar of the waters, she heard the despairing cry for help from the hopeless crew of the ill-fated ship Forfar that lay a sinking wreck at the mercy of the waves. At daybreak she saw at the distance of about a mile the perishing crew still clinging to the wreck.

She thought not of the stormy sea ; she thought not of the danger among the white capped waves ; she thought not of home where she might have remained secure; she thought only of the perishing sailors, and launching her boat she proceeded to the rescue, and brought them to a place of safety. We love to dwell on such intrepid actions as these, but at the same time we should not forget that in every stage of society men have been born with perhaps as wide sympathy as Howard, and women with as dauntless courage as Grace Darling. Men and women all move in a little world of their own, and we venture to say that before the three-score is reached (no matter in what sphere our lot has been cast) many things have come under our observation which could only spring from great hearts full of kindness and consideration for their fellowmen.

There is perhaps no condition of existence in this country where the heroic qualities and feelings of sympathy could find greater scope than in the lives of the early settlers. The difficulties arising from their situation had the effect of developing the best traits in their character. The inconveniences to which they were subjected were common to all. Their isolations and their hardships formed amongst them a strong bond of union, and wherever sympathy and help was required, sympathy and help was always freely given. That spirit of rivalry which obtains at the present did not exist in the early days of Blanshard pioneers. Wher all were poor, no feeling of envy could be stirred up by contrast with those who were rich. The straggle in which they were engaged and their helpless condition cemented together the families that were scattered here and there in the forest. Rude and unpolished in their manners they may have been, but there was that within them which served as a basis on which has been raised our present civilization. It is gratifying to know that some of those men who fought the battle of life in the early days have had their labors crowned with success, and are spending the evening of life in comfort and a well-earned rest.

Of the few that are remaining of the original settlers (there are not more than ten or twelve now alive in the township) is Mr. Samuel Radcliff, on lot 25, in the 10th concession of Blanshard. Mr. Radcliff, the subject of the present sketch, was born in Castlemillan, near Belfast, County Down, Ireland, in December, 1820. The family was originally from Cumberland, on the borders of England, and emigrated to Ireland along with large numbers of the Scotch, under the colonization scheme of James I. Like the greater portion of the settlers from the north of Ireland, he was the son of a farmer. Unlike, however, the bulk of his countrymen who came to Canada about that time and settled in the Huron Tract, the family was in comparatively good circumstances. His education was somewhat limited. The means for obtaining an education in Ireland at that time, and indeed up to recent date, were not of a high order. The teacher was usually some old man whom the course of nature had rendered unfit for physical labor. In his youth he had been taught to read and write a little, and when strength had failed he earned a little money by teaching, to keep starvation from the door. His pupils were supposed to pay sixpence or a shilling a month for his services. This sum had to be supplemented still further by every scholar bringing with him so much turf every morning to keep the cabin where school was kept warm during the day. During a visit to Ireland a few years ago, the writer visited one of these seats of learning in the County of Tyrone. It was a small, low building, used for a dwelling-house and a school. On entering the little cabin you stepped down nearly a foot to the clay floor, which, from the tramping of little feet, was worn into holes. Here and there we could see patches that had recently been renewed by fresh clay. At one end a great turf fire was blazing, not in a chimney, for the school contained no such convenience, having simply a hole in the roof that served the two-fold purpose of letting down the rain and letting out the smoke. A few benches placed around the walls composed the whole outfit for teaching the jToung idea how to shoot. An old lady was sitting by the fire smoking a very short black pipe. After a few minutes conversation we left. As we departed we left the old lady a souvenir of our visit, when she curtsied -very low, saying at the same time, “ Grod bless your honor; may you have many happy days,”—the first and the last blessing we ever received.

COMING TO BLANSHARD

At a similar seminary to the one described, Mr. Radcliff received his education. From the time he left school until he was twenty-two he worked with his father on the farm. Indeed he might have remained there, as the holding was a large one, but the life of an Irish farmer did not very well suit the ideas of a person of his energy and determination. The Huron Tract was being opened up at this time by the Canada Company, and it was more in accord with his adventurous spirit to come to Canada and make a home for himself, than to remain at his ease in his native land. At the age of twenty-two he decided to make the venture, and sailed from Belfast on April the 16th, 1842. His voyage to Quebec was, upon the whole, uneventful, but they experienced such stormy weather that on more than one occasion they thought they would have been lost. At the end of eight weeks of buffeting on the stormy Atlantic they arrived in safety. On his arrival he at once sought and obtained work, at which he stayed for one year. But the eastern part of the province was not to his taste. He heard of the more favored country in the west, around what was then known as New London, and determined to push his fortune in that locality. Accordingly, early in 1844, he came west and reached London. He obtained employment here, at which he remained four years. During the few years he labored in the township of London, he gained experience which he found of great advantage in after life when he had a farm of his own. The duties in connection with the clearing of a new farm are so entirely unlike the methods in the old settlements, that a year or two contiguous to a new country is of great advantage to a new settler. This Mr. Radcliff soon found. He had learned to use the axe effectively, the most important tool on a new farm. He had also served his apprenticeship at driving oxen, in which duty he was considered the most proficient in the section of the country where he lived. It may seem strange to those not acquainted with the clearing of land, that any one man could excel another in the simple duty of driving a pair of oxen; but the old pioneers knew well that a good or bad ox teamster in a logging field meant success or defeat to the men who were rolling. Mr. Radcliff soon found that the greatest power with oxen, as with men, lay in kindness. A teamster who continually abused his cattle was considered very stupid, and always succeeded in making his team as stupid as himself. Mr. Radcliff’s qualities as a teamster were soon found out, and he experienced at loggings no difficulty in always having the most expert gang to follow him. During the years he had been in the country he had steady employment, and being of a thrifty and saving disposition, had saved a large portion of his wages. The township of Blanshard, as it has been stated elsewhere, had been surveyed and thrown open for settlement in 1841, and was being rapidly taken up. With his little savings he decided at once to become a pioneer of the township and make for himself a home in the new country. In February, 1848, or 51 years ago, he selected lot 25, in the 10th concession, which from that day until the present has been his home. Not a tree had been cut on the farm ; the roads had not been cut out except in small patches, and there they were blocked with the refuse of fallen timber that rendered them impassable. There were neither schools nor churches, and the whole section around him may almost literally be said to have been unbroken forest. The Hays family had preceded him, and made little openings here and there, in the midst of which, little shanties seemed to have dropped down amongst stumps, logs, and brush. Having thus located a farm, his next duty was to select a suitable place for his house and proceed to its erection. As there were no pumps or wells in those days, a site for a shanty was, wherever possible, chosen near where water could be obtained. The erection of the building itself, although a matter of considerable labor, was not attended with much difficulty to those early settlers, who could do almost anything with the axe. The style of the building was simplicity itself, and the architect who first formulated the plans for a backwoods shanty must have had an extraordinary foresight into the adaptability of his plans to the circumstances. Out of the many structures erected in Blanshard and surrounding townships fifty or sixty years ago, we never knew one to deviate in the slightest degree from the original. Buildings of this kind were constructed throughout without a single nail or piece of iron in any form whatever. When a new settler wanted to raise a house, he asked a few of the nearest neighbors for assistance, and the structure was completed, as far as the walls were concerned, in one day. This consisted of the four sides of great logs laid at right angles to each other at the corners. If the roof was to be one of troughs, then the front part was made one log higher than the rear, thus giving a slight angle to the roof towards the rear of the building. A hole was cut out in front for a door and window, the window rarely containing more than four lights. The door and the hinges, and the floor, were all made with the axe by the settler, and were taken from white basswood, split and made into thin plank. The roof was also made from basswood trees split in the centre and scooped out with the axe. These were laid across the walls, the lower ones with the hollow part upwards and the upper ones with the hollow part downwards. The seams of the walls were then filled with chinking, over which was laid a good covering of clay, both inside the building and on the outside, when, with the exception of the chimney, the castle of the Canadian lord of the soil was complete. In those days the modern stove had not been invented, and the chimney was a part of the building of great importance. It was constructed of stone at the base, and up as far as the great beam, which served as the mantel, where, from its front to the rear, was placed the lug-pole. From the lug-pole to the top of the roof and a little beyond was built with clay and wood split into narrow pieces and laid at right angles to form a vent. The fireplace was of wide dimensions, and in the winter was kept constantly piled with great logs, which lighted up the whole inside of the house. From the lug-pole dangled a chain and hooks, where the pots were hung on the blazing fire. The bread was baked in the bake-kettle on the hearth. A portion of the hot coals were raked out on the hearth, on which the bake-kettle was placed containing the bread, the lid put on and a further portion of hot coals placed on that, with a still further supply of hot coals gathered around the side ; and there the patient and hard-working wife of the settler made the bread for her husband and family.

THE PIONEER HOME

In those log houses and similar dwellings have been born, and there played in youthful innocence, many of Canada’s greatest and most gifted men. Rude though they were, and humble, the associations of the old log house are still dear to many, although removed far from them.

If happiness consists in a consciousness of duty faithfully done in the years that are past, in thankfulness and contentment with the present, and a holy and abiding hope of the future, the subject of this sketch is triply blessed from having a high appreciation of all the three. We deem it one of the grandest dispensations of heaven that true happiness is not peculiar to any age, position, or place in society. How often it eludes the grasp of the rich and the great, and flying away finds a resting place in homes of the poor and in the humble dwelling of the backwoods settler. The remembrances that still cling to the old log house, the long, weary struggle with the world, and the final triumph over their difficulties, still fill the hearts of the few old pioneers that remain. Time, that has made a desolation of all their aspirations for the future, still has left them happy memories of the scenes that can return no more. If these old decayed and rotting walls have been the shelter of sorrowing ones, they have also been the home of exceeding great joy. In the long winter nights, when the storm was raging without, the snow driving across the dreary waste and piling up great drifts around the doors, the old pioneer with the “big Bible,” once his father’s pride, laid on his knee, would raise his heart in thankfulness to heaven in the voice of Psalms, and simple songs of praise, till the old log house seemed like a paradise in the forest.

From this time forward Mr. Radcliff assumed the responsibilities and had to face the difficulties and trials of a new settler. On the 9th day of December, 1847, he married Elizabeth Hedley, a sister of Roger Hedley, of the town of St. Marys, and in the month of February following he brought his young wife into the log dwelling he had recently completed. This lady was born in London Township, her parents being from Northumberland in England. From her parents she learned and always spoke with a strong Northumberland accent. She was a kind and motherly woman, and entirely devoted to her husband and family. For over fifty years they fought the battle of life together, and saw their children grow up around them as respectable and good citizens of their native country. There were born to them ten of a family, all of whom are alive except one,—Helen, who died at the age of 13 years.

Those remaining are Robert, on the old homestead; David, a merchant in Toronto; James, C. P. R. ticket agent, Toronto; Samuel, practising medicine in the North-west; Allan, in the North-west; John, in the West; Mary Ann, in Chicago; Elizabeth, in Chicago; and Jane, with her father in Blanshard. Mr. Radcliff is a man of strong Presbyterian proclivities—in fact a better specimen of the old Presbyterian would be difficult to find. Eirm and determined in his religious principles, bordering even on dogmatism, he never gives much attention or takes much concern in the affairs of other denominations. His early training at the fireside of his father had left a lasting impression on his mind. His manner of thought on all matters pertaining to theology was based and formed intensely on the rules and injunctions laid down in the Confession of Faith and the Shorter Catechism. On these lines he trained his family. He was strict in the government of his household, and his children knew well that any duties he imposed upon them had better be attended to, otherwise it might be unpleasant for themselves. It is gratifying to him, however, now to know that his efforts for their good have been amply rewarded, as all of them are doing well and are a credit to him as well as to themselves.

EARLY REMINISCENCES

As he was now settled in life, he at once set to work to improve his farm by cutting down the timber and preparing a fallow for next summer. In the spring he succeeded in clearing a couple of acres which he sowed with wheat so that he might have bread for the next year. Sugar and molasses were plentiful; so were potatoes, but bread was quite another thing. In a new country the obtaining of bread was one of the greatest difficulties the new settler had to contend with. When he was able to raise a little wheat he had to carry it frequently many miles to get it ground. Potatoes were plentiful, and with beech nuts lying everywhere his pigs soon got so fat they were hardly able to move, although beech-nut pork was not the kind that would tempt the palate of an epicure. Still it was pork, and backwoodsmen did not draw very nice distinctions as to the quality of the fare set before them. When a man has no choice of food it is wonderful how his taste becomes relaxed. In the harvest he reaped from his little plot of wheat sufficient to supply the family till next year’s crop would be ready. To supply his immediate wants he had to thresh with a flail a couple of bags, the little stock of flour in the settlement being exhausted. It was the custom among the old settlers to give a share of everything to their neighbors as long as it lasted. If any one of them had a bag of flour the settlement would not be in want. In getting the two bags of wheat ground a supply would be obtained and the wolf kept from the door. But how was he to get it to the mill ?—and thereby hangs a tale indicative of the terrible inconvenience attending the life of a poor settler in the backwoods. He had nothing but a sled, and the mill was sixteen miles away, at Carlyle, in the township of Williams. A neighbor living three-and-a-half miles farther up the concession had an ox-cart which he determined to hire and take his wheat to the mill. He accordingly walked up and succeeded in effecting an arrangement for the ox-cart. In making the journey there and back he travelled seven miles. He took oxen and got the cart, travelling seven miles more. His trip to the mill took two days and was sixteen miles each way, or thirty-two miles in all. He returned the cart to the owner, adding another seven miles. In going to do one day’s work with his oxen, as the payment for the hire of the cart, he travelled another seven miles; so that in getting his two bags of wheat to the mill he travelled sixty miles and spent three days’ labor with himself and oxen. On another occasion he started with the oxen and sled to St. Marys with a small grist, when, after a long pull through the mud, he reached the river where a bridge of timber had been erected, only to find it gone, the whole structure except one stringer having been carried away the night previous by a freshet. The water was still very high, but necessity has no law, and flour he had to have. He took his oxen from the sled and chained them to a stump, and getting a bag on his back, started to walk across the stringer over the river. This he accomplished in safety, backwards and forwards, till the whole was across. After it was ground the whole was again carried on his back to the sled on the other side of the river, when he again turned for home, which he reached after having been nearly twenty-four hours in making a trip of less than six miles each way. On another occasion the neighbors had borrowed flour from each other until all the stocks in sight were completely exhausted. One of them, however, had a bag of wheat, but had neither oxen nor cart to get to the mill. A settler on the eighth concession had been able to get a wagon, which was accordingly rented for the trip, and another journey of fifty miles made with a single bag of wheat. But this state of things did not last long with Mr. Radcliff. He had saved up his ashes, and, boiling it into potash, started for London with his oxen and sled, where he got as much for his potash as bought a new ox-cart, the first vehicle he ever owned, and came back to Blanshard feeling that he was a rather prosperous man.

BURIAL IN THE EARLY DAYS

“She was a lonely woman and left none to mourn.”

We must now relate a mournful event which exemplifies in another direction the hardships of the pioneer. As life necessarily implies death, so, wherever we have life, death is always hovering near to claim its dole from mortality. In this case the work of the destroyer was not glossed over with those attentions and decorations which the bereaved love to place around the mortal remains of the departed. There were no tinsel or bright cerements, no flowers heaped on the corpse, which in their lovely beauty appear to destroy to some extent the awful aspect of death. Around the body there were no aching hearts, no sighs, no tears, no minister to point out to the fewT that came to the burial that mortality would put on immortality, and that the life here was simply probationary to the life beyond the grave. But the body had to be laid in its last resting place, and it was horrifying to think that it should be consigned to its kindred dust without a coffin. Mr. Radcliff, whose mind revolted at such a condition of things, wrenched off a few boards from the inside of the house, and out of this material, with the aid of another neighbor, constructed a rude receptacle in which to place the body. It appears somewhat ludicrous, however, when we consider his anxiety that this rude coffin should be constructed in proper form. Not having any tools better than the axe, he found it almost impossible to give the proper shape at the point where the shoulders would rest. To overcome this difficulty, a quantity of water was heated to the boiling point, in which he placed the ends of the boards for the sides, when, after they had become softened, he placed the ends between two logs and bent them to the desired shape. The bottom being ready, he nailed them on and kept them in position. Into this rough box the body was laid, with a pillow of straw under its head. When the time for interment had come, he presented himself with the oxen and sled, and having placed the coffin in the sled, fastened it with a chain so that it could not shake off in the journey. So the little cortege moved on and wended its way through the woods to the burial plot where McIntyre’s church now stands. The scene was most impressive in its simplicity. There was no service at the home they left; there was no service at the grave. When the chain that held the coffin to the sled was unbound, a few of the strong men lifted it in silence, lowered it to its last resting-place, and filling in the earth left to its quiet sleep all that was mortal of what was once a human being. When we contrast the present state of things with those of fifty years ago, which we have described, the change appears great indeed. All that human ingenuity can accomplish, all that wealth can buy, are brought into service now to disguise as much as possible the ghastly aspect of death. The flowers, the subdued light of the apartment, the solemn look and the soft motions of the watchers around the beautiful casket, are all evidences of the love and tenderness of those who are still on this side of eternity. When we contrast the splendor of the hearse and the sombre drapings of the horses with the oxen and sled, and the long line of carriages that follow the departed one, to show their last respects, with the few hard-handed men that accompanied the sled through the wroods, we can scarcely realize that only a half century has passed.

KILLED AT A BARN-RAISING

Another event of a melancholy kind that occurred shortly after Mr. Radcliff came to the township, and in which he was closely concerned, ought to be noticed. In the early settlement the buildings on the farms were wholly built of logs. The erection of the log buildings, especially barns, which were raised to a great height, was a dangerous operation. When we consider that some of these barns had from sixteen to eighteen rounds of great logs piled one on top of another, it will be seen that those placed at the highest elevation must have required great skill and care to put them there without accident. The skids were always placed near the corners, and the men on the ground who manipulated the “muleys” kept them as near the outside of the skid as possible. If one end of the log was pushed up a little beyond the other it would be sure to slip from the skid and come to the ground, endangering the lives of many men. That more accidents did not occur certainly arose from chance rather than from the care of the hands. The grog boss at raisings was always on hand with a supply of the “elevater,” and at the end of the day, when the building was high and required steadiness, quite a number of the men had become reckless from the frequency and depth of their potations. On one of these occasions, at a raising on the next farm to Mr. Radcliff’s, a log slipped from the skid and, falling to the ground, killed the proprietor of the building. The feelings of the poor wife may be imagined when the dead husband was carried into the shanty. As she could be of 110 service around the dead body, Mr. Radcliff asked her to his home for the evening, which invitation she accepted. During the night he was awakened by the moaning and shouts of the poor woman, who appeared to be walking backwards and forwards in the darkness. When he made a light he saw at once the heart-broken creature had become mad. One of her little boys coming into the room, she flew at him with the fury of a lion and would have torn him in pieces. For the remainder of the night he had to watch and hold her from doing the family injury. When the morning came, which was Sunday, and the settlers not moving out early, he dared not leave to get assistance. As a last resource he pushed the demented woman outside and held her in his arms, shouting at the top of his voice. The late Robert Somerville, who lived on the next farm, heard his cries and at once went to help him. Other neighbors came in and relieved him from his trying position. He kept her in his house for several days until means were found to place her in an asylum. It is pleasing to know that she afterwards recovered, but still retained the memory of all she had done during the period of her frenzy. Two other settlers were killed soon after at barn-raisings, which had such effect on him that forever after he allowed no liquor on the farm, and he has the honor of being the first settler in this section to have raised his building without whiskey.

WOLVES AND BEARS

The roads in the township in the early days were simply horrible, and it was almost as much as a man’s life was worth to make a trip over them for a few miles. At that time potash was the only product of the farm for which money could be obtained, and as a consequence nearly all the settlers made more or less of that commodity. On one occasion he went to St. Marys with a barrel in the ox-sled for Mr. Edward Long, the present respected treasurer of St. Marys, who shipped nearly all of that class of goods brought into town. He pulled along fairly well until he reached Silver Creek, when he found the mud so deep that he nearly lost himself, oxen, sled, and the potash. But if the mud was bad, the corduroy was, if possible, worse. The inventor of corduroy must certainly have been in league with the evil one, as such a road could only have been introduced by the great enemy of mankind. We believe we are safe in saying that a ride of half a mile over a piece of new made corduroy would be punishment sufficient for any offence that a man might commit against society.

Wild animals, too, if not numerous, were still represented, particularly wolves and bears, and at night could be heard howling around the little dwellings in the woods. On a pleasant evening in the summer, at dusk, Mr. Radcliff, having occasion to go to the door, heard a poor porker set up a most unearthly squealing in the woods near Fish Creek. A bear whose larder had been somewhat depleted had formed the plan of replenishing it with a piece of beech-nut pork, and carried off the poor animal bodily. A trio of Nimrods composed of the late John Slack, William Slack, and Mr. Hunt, determined to secure bruin the next evening if he came back to increase his supply. But to enable them to secure the bear, they very discreetly made arrangements to secure themselves. Accordingly they erected a scaffold, on which all three of the hunters mounted, with guns charged to the muzzle, and kept watch during the night. Whether his bearship was not in love with beech-nut pork, or whether he considered the supply ample for his immediate wants, history sayeth not. At all events he did not make his appearance, and the hunters, after long watching, returned to their homes with their game-bags empty.

Blanshard at this time had no churches and few schools. A log school-house had been built at the corner on the tenth concession, where worship was held on Sabbath days by the different denominations. The Bev. Mr. Skinner made occasional visits to the Presbyterian families located near by, and preached in the old log school, administering the rites of baptism to the children, and in which place several of Mr. Radcliff’s children were baptized. He was always in favor of free schools, and during his residence in the township has contributed to the erection of five. At this corner was opened the first post office in the township, outside of St. Marys, which was kept by the late Mr. Bell as post master. The village of Prospect Hill was not then in existence, and the first hotel was opened in that village by Robert Shaw.

SCHOOLS AND CHURCHES

During his long career he never neglected his duties to the church to which he belonged, and supported her schemes as far as it lay in his power. Some forty years ago he, with Mr. Forsyth, Mr. Hamilton, the late T. D. Hamilton, and others, erected a Presbyterian church near the lower end of the tenth concession. In this congregation he was chosen as elder, and continued to hold that honored position until the church was removed. In 1866 the Rev. Robert Hall, who was pastor, resigned the charges of Granton and Fish Creek, as the church at the tenth was called, and devoted his whole attention to the churches in Nissouri. A call was then extended to the Rev. Allan Finlay, who ministered to both churches, Granton and Fish Creek, when, after a few years, the Fish Creek congregation was broken up, a portion going to Granton and a portion to Nissouri. Mr. Radcliff then joined the Granton Church, where, during the pastorate of the Rev. David Mann, he was again chosen elder. Previous to the organization of the church named, he sought church privileges in the town of St. Marys, to which place he walked for several years, the greater part of the way through the woods.

Mr. Radcliff’s instincts were of a purely domestic character, and he never sought public place or position. With the exception of four years that he sat on the board of directors of the B. M. F. I. Co., he never held public office. His care and attention were devoted to the management of his farm and the furtherance of the interests of his family. He took an active part in the promotion of the scheme for building the Proof Line gravel road, and always gave a helping hand to any plan for the furtherance of improvements which were for the good of the people. In politics he was a Reformer, and was not at all shy in the advocacy of the principles of that party. In his dealings with men he was strictly honorable, and was liberal enough to concede a point where positive evidence could not be obtained to the contrary. Although not a teetotaller, he has been temperate through his whole life. He was always industrious and paid close attention to his own business, in which course of conduct he has been amply rewarded with a competence for his old age. He was not at all excitable, but firm and decided in his character, not particularly fond of show, and moderate in his tastes and desires. In business he was cautious and shrewd, and could not be easily swayed either to one side or the other. He was never what might be called a strong, robust man, though he has always been in the enjoyment of good health. The snows of nearly eighty winters, however, have not passed over him without leaving some trace, and the loss of his partner, who had stood by him for over fifty years, leaves him alone, so to speak, in the world. He is still hale and hearty, and it seems that many years may yet pass away ere he will be called on to pass the bourne from which no traveller ever returns.