Most of our readers are aware of the fact that the great champion of education in Upper Canada has gone to his rest. Coming generations, so long as time lasts, will owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Ryerson, as the only real founder of a comprehensive school system in Ontario. Through evil report and through good report he has steadily worked on his way; neither daunted by the abuse he has received, nor unduly elated by the unmeasured tribute of praise paid to his efforts in the department to which his whole life was devoted. He kept the even tenor of his way, and we think most people, unblinded by partisan prejudice, will acknowledge that his life purpose has, more than that of most men, been accomplished. He leaves behind him a structure so nearly completed that men with a tithe of his enthusiasm, and infinitely less knowledge of the educational requirements of the Province, can lay the capstone, and declare the work complete.
Hon. Marshall S. Bidwell died in New York shortly after his visit to Canada in 1872. Hon. Judge Neilson, his friend, wrote to Dr. Ryerson for particulars of Mr. Bidwell's early life, with a view to publish it in a memorial volume. This information Dr. Ryerson obtained from Sir W. B. Richards, Clarke Gamble, Esq., Q.C., and Rev. Dr. Givens, and, with his own, embodied it in a communication to Judge Neilson. In a letter to Dr. Ryerson, dated 30th April, 1873, the late Rev. Dr. Saltern Givens said:—
A short time since, Hon. W. B. Robinson informed me that a letter of condolence was written by the late Mr. Bidwell to Lady Robinson and her family, on the death of Sir John, and that he thought it would answer your purpose.... I am sure that you will peruse it with as much pleasure as I have done.
It ought to be a matter of devout thankfulness and congratulation with us Canadians, that two of our most distinguished statesmen and jurists have left behind them such unequivocal and delightful testimonies of their faith in Christ, and of their experience of the power of His Gospel, in extracting the sting from death and in comforting the bereaved.
I am sure that Sir John's letters to Mr. Bidwell, under his similar trial, if you could obtain them, would be read with a thrill of delight and profit by their many friends throughout Canada.
When witnessing—as we have done, some forty years ago—those fierce political contests in which our departed friends were involved, how little did we think that in the evening of their days they would have been united in the bonds of Christian love and sympathy, as this interchange of friendship evinces.
The following is Mr. Bidwell's letter to Hon. W. B. Robinson, dated 24th February, 1863:—
I thank you for your kind and friendly letter, and for the particular account of the closing scenes of the life of your honoured and lamented brother. The wound inflicted by his death can never be altogether healed. The grief which it produces is natural and rational, and is not inconsistent with any of the precepts, or with the spirit of the Gospel. It is a duty, however, to keep it within bounds, and not to allow murmurs in our heart against Divine Providence. The language of our hearts should be that of the Patriarch, "The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord." Gratitude for the gift should be mingled with our deep sorrow for the loss of it. In my own case, a consideration of the unspeakable goodness of God in having bestowed upon me such an inestimable blessing has been continually present to my mind, and trust such feelings will abound in the bosom of Lady Robinson, her family, and yourself. He, whose removal from earthly scenes your hearts deplore, was all that you could have desired, in his public and private character, and in the homage of universal veneration and esteem. Where will you find one like him? Was there not great and peculiar goodness in God's bestowing him upon you? Was he not the joy and pride of your hearts continually? Did not his presence irradiate his home, and make it like an earthly Paradise? Every pang which you may suffer attests the value of the blessing which you have so long had. Your gratitude to God, the author of every good and perfect gift, ought to be in proportion to your grief. It is to be remembered, also, that he was not cut down prematurely in the midst of his days, but had passed the period which Moses, the man of God, in his sublime and pathetic prayer (Psalm xc.) considers as the ordinary boundary of human life, and retained all his powers and faculties to the last; and that during this long life he had not been absent from his family, at least not from Lady Robinson (if I am not mistaken) except during the transient separation when he was on the circuit. It is natural that your hearts should yearn for him, should long to see him again, and enjoy the pleasure of his company; yet death must sooner or later have separated you, and longer life might have been a scene of suffering. Would it not have been inexpressibly painful to you all to have seen his mental and bodily powers decay and fade away? Such a spectacle would have been distressing and mortifying. Now his memory is associated with no humiliating recollections; but you remember him as one always admired, respected and loved. Death has set his seal upon him, and although he is removed from you to return no more to earthly scenes, you know that it is only a removal, and that he is now in a state of exalted and perfect, though ever progressive, felicity. I trust you have the most consolatory evidence that this is now his present and unalterable state, and that you constantly think as David thought and said, "I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me." In the meantime you have the consolation of knowing that while you remember him with the tenderest affection and interest, he has not forgotten you, but has a more distinct and perfect recollection of you than you have of him. That this is literally true is the conviction of my understanding, founded not only upon reason and analogy, but upon the irrefragable testimony of divine revelation. There surely is nothing in such a thought that is improbable. We have daily experience of the revival in our minds of past events long forgotten; they lived there, though dormant. Then how many well authenticated and well known instances, where persons recovered from drowning have stated that before they lost consciousness, all the scenes and incidents of their lives flashed instantaneously, as it were, upon their minds, and appeared to be present to their view. They had been treasured up there, though latent. Death does not extinguish the mental faculties, thought does not cease, but the conscious and thinking being passes from scenes present to scenes eternal. "Mortality is swallowed up of life." There would be good ground for this conviction, if revelation gave us no higher proof; but it is explicit. "Every one of us shall give account of himself to God." This necessarily implies a perfect recollection of our lives. We are to answer for all the deeds done in the body; for every idle word, for every secret and sinful thought and feeling. This requires a perfect recollection of every event, sentiment, and emotion of our lives. The soul, therefore, must carry into the unseen world a perfect recollection of its associates and friends; and as there will be no decay then of mental powers, this will be an abiding, ever-present recollection. Every holy feeling will also continue after death—conjugal, parental, filial, fraternal affections are holy; they are expressly enjoined upon us by divine authority. Love, indeed, pure, fervent affection, is the characteristic element of Heaven. It is impossible, therefore, that the holy affections should cease at death. I have, therefore, a conviction that our departed friends, whose death we mourn, remember us distinctly and with tender affection. I have dwelt upon this subject because it has afforded me in my great affliction much consolation, and if I had time, I might expatiate more fully upon it, and adduce further evidence in support of its truth.
Yes! it is a truth, and therefore it is full of consolation. While we are thinking of our departed friends with grief, they, too, are thinking of us, with at least equal affection, and this they will continue to do until we meet. In the meantime we may comfort ourselves with the thought that, to use the language of a sober and judicious commentator on the sacred Scriptures, "The separation will be short, the re-union rapturous, and the subsequent felicity uninterrupted, unalloyed, and eternal."
I have felt peculiar sympathy for Lady Robinson. I am sure her affliction must be extreme. I hope the Son of God is with her in the furnace, and that she has a consciousness of His presence. He can give both support and consolation, and both she must greatly need. He can gently, and imperceptibly, bind up and heal her wounded and bleeding heart.