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Family History 




POEMS, Etc. 


McAlpine Publishing Company, Ltd. 




The Stairs Family — written by W. J. Stairs in Pagb 

1886, - - - - 1 to 11 

Appointment Wm. Stairs to Legislative Council in 

1850, signed by Queen Victoria, - 12 
Newspaper Comments on Life and Death of 

Wm. Stairs, - - - - 13 

Family Bible of Wm. Stairs, - - 14 

Descendants of W. J. Stairs, - - - 17 
Will of Mrs. Machin, Great-Grandmother of W. J. 

Stairs, - - - - 21 
Letter John Stairs (Grandfather of W. J. Stairs) to 

Mr. Stayner, - - - - 23 

Diary of W. J. Stairs, 1848 to 1867, - 27 to 65 

On Industry, Free Trade, Social Progress, - 30 

" Oh, the Canker Worm of Self ! " - 36 

First Industrial Exhibition, 1854, - - 38 
"John Brown, or a Poor Man's Philosophy " — 

Poetry, - - - - 39 
First Ride in Railway Cars, 1855, - - 41 
Elected an Alderman, 1855, - - 44 
Death of Willie, 1860, - - 49 to 57 
Union of Maritime Provinces and Confedera- 
tion - - - - 62 
Meeting in Temperance Hall, - - 63 

CO N TENTS— ( contiyi tied) . 


Letters To and From W. J. Stairs, - 66 to 100 

His Mother's First Letter, 1832, - - 66 

On the Death of His Mother, 1850, - 95 

On Retirement from Union Bank, - - 97 

Militia Appointments of W. J. Stairs, - 101 

W. J. Stairs' Tribute to Joseph Howe, - - 104 

Howe's Offer of Senatorship, - - 104 

Presentation to Mr. and Mrs. Geddie, - - 106 

Men Who Have Moulded Halifax, - - 112 

Golden Wedding, June 16, 1895, - - 115 

Newspaper Comments on Life and Death of 
W. J. Stairs: 

From the Recorder, - - - 120 

From the Herald, - - - 124 

Unprecedented Winter, 1904-05— Herbert's Letter, 128 

Writings of W. J. Stairs, Found in His 

Desk, - - - 130 to 167 
On Christ's Second Coming, - - 130 
Thoughts on Riches and Socialism, - - 136 
What I Think of Stanley, - - 141 
Imperial Federation, from a Canadian Stand- 
point, - . - - 143 
Prohibition, - - - 151 
Legend of Big Tree, - - - 152 
iStories of a Traveller, - - 155 
Political Meeting, . - - 160 

CONTENTS— {continued-) . 


Lecture by W. J. Stairs, 1877 - - 168 to 202 

Sir Samuel Cunard, _ - - 190 

Richard Kidston, - - - 196 

John Tobin, - - - - 199 

Thomas Killam, - - - 201 

George McKenzie, _ _ - 2OI 

Enos Collins, - - - - 202 

William Murdoch, - - - 202 

John Duffus, - - - 202 

Genealogy of W. J. Stairs, - - - 204 

of Susan Morrow, - - 205 

The Morrow Famii^y — written by Mrs. Stairs : 

Marriage of Susan Morrow, 1845, - - 215 

Willie's Illness and Death, - - 219 

Reminiscences of Fernwood, - - 221 

The Duffus Family, - - - 222 

Lord George Gordon Riots, - - 222 

The Murdoch Family, - - 229 
Malachi Salter's Letter to His Wife, 1759, - 238 

Appendix : - - - - 248 

Arrest of Malachi Salter, - - - 252 

Thomas Bridge, - - - 253 

The Simpsons, - - - - 253 

Israelites and Scots, - - - 256 

Acrostic : Mistress Susan Morrow, - - 258 

Our Father's and Mother's Closing days - 260 

The Stairs Family. 


Denis Stairs^ of Belfast, Ireland, 

Hannah Roe, of Galway, Ireland. 

They removed to Port Iioyal in tlie Island of Grenada, 
West Indies, where their only child, John Stairs, was born, 
who was sent to Philadelphia to school. 

Denis Stairs died at Philadelphia, and was buried in 
Saint Peter's Churdiyard. His widow married Wm. Machin, 
and her death occurred at Grenada in 1783 when she was 48 
years old. A copy of her last will and testament is now in 
the possession of her great grandson, W. J. Stairs, and a copy 
of her likeness in miniature. 

John Stairs inherited about five thousand pounds, and 
came to Halifax, where he lost his means in commercial pur- 

The house he l)uilt and ocx^upied stands on the west side 
of Lower Water street, opposite the wharf property long and 
lately owned by tlie Pryor family, and now known (188G) as 
Dominion Wharf. [This house was taken down in the sum- 
mer of 1905.] 

He married Joanna Stayner, who died at Philadelphia, of 
yellow fever, in 1793, where they had gone after Mr. Stairs 
lost his means. He had a situation in the Customs Depart- 
ment there. His five children were sent to Halifax to their 
uncle, John Staynor. 

John Stairs married again and had two more daughters. 


Tlic children stmt to Halifax were: 

Joanna Staiks^ the eldest, then aged 17, who married 
Daniel Bessonett, a watchmaker, who died aged 27, leaving 
one son, John Stayner Bcissonett. She married the second 
time William Erown. in LSIU, and died March 3rd, 1839, and 
lies w St. Paul's burying ground in the same grave where 
her first husband and his father had successively heen laid. 
The ^rave is diri'ctlv nn from the i^ate to the western side, 
and a stone records the death of the first occupant, Daniel 
Bessonott, who was a capt.ain in a regiment called the " New 
Jersey Volunteers/' rai.-ed ])Y the British Government during 
tlie Eevolutionary War in Xoi-th America. Captain Bes- 
sonett was on half pay, and died at Halifax. 

Children of Joanna Stairs, — Williajn blasters Brown, died 
May '.'iJtii, 18S,S, aged 77 years; Ceorge Stairs Brown; Eliza 
King Brown; John Stayner Bessonett, died May 7th, 1896, 
aged !)1 years; Edward iving Brown; Michael Septemus 
Brown; -loanna Brown. 

John Stairs, th.e second, became a shipmaster, married 
Catherine Eraser, had two sons and eight daughters. 

Makv Staii;s, fourth, married John Westray, a tanner. 
She died, in ISIO, aged 21 years, at the place knowoi ivs Law- 
son's i\Iil!s, then c;illed Letson's Tnnyrrd. on tl.e western side 
of the North- West Arm. Thnyj (hiughte'^s survived her; two 
lived to grov/ up- (Isabel iind Margaret), who went with their 
father to New York. ^Margaret married and went to Florida. 

Abigail S'I'Aiks. fifth, was an infant when her mother 
died. She married IIeiir\- King, and thev went to ]'>oston 
with their cliiblr'a about lS-!4. S!ie died there in 1867, 
aged 74 years. One son and three daughters survived her. 

Her son, Henry King, died at Memphis, on the Missis- 
sippi, of yellow fever. Her daughters are now (188(1) in 
Bost-on; Mi-s. Small, Mrs. Dudley. Mr. Jving died at St. 
John, N. B. 


Mry. Stayner, a widoAv, came from Boston with her chil- 
dren and some other persons, Loyalists, about the year 1776. 
She had two sons, Eichard and Jolm, and four daughters. 
One of the daughters, Mrs. Barrell, lived and died in London, 

Mrs. Edward King lived and died in Halifax. 

Mrs. Philip Bayer lived and died on a farm on the Penin- 
sula, Haliiax. 

Mrs. John Stairs (Joanna), who died in Philadelphia in 
1793, the mother of William Stairs. 

The house which was owned and occupied by the Stayner 
family in Boston, stood where tlie Winthrop house was since, 
and the Masonic Temple is now. 

Mrs. StajTier, who came from Boston, was a member of a 
small religious body called Sandemanians, from the name of 
its founder, Sandeman, who was a Scotsman. Nearly all of 
those who were here came from New England; among them 
were: — John Howe, father of the late Joseph Howe; Samuel 
Greenwood, Theophilus Chaiiiberlain, Edwaid King, Edward 

William Stairs^ son of John Stairs and Joanna Stayner, 
was born January 21st, 1789, in the house a few feet back 
from the street, opposite Pryor's Wharf. This house was 
built by his father. He was baptized in St. Paul's Church; 
name, William Machin Stairs. He never used his second 
name. With his parents he was taken when a child to Phila- 
delphia, and of his mother it has been written she died in 
Philadelphia when he was about four years old. 

After the death of his motlier tlie children, Joanna, John, 
William, Mary and Abigail, were sent by their father down to 
Halifax to the care of their uncle, John Stayner, and they 
grew up in their uncle's house, companions to his own chil- 
dren, who were about the same age. 

Williiim wont to the Halifax Grammar School, under the 
care of Mr. Wright, afterwards Kector of St. Paul's. The 
education he received was not much, but it was equal to that 
of other boys, sons of the best people in Halifax. Those who 
took college education went to Windsor. It was not the 
general practice to keep boys long at school in those days. 
Halifax being a seaport town, it was quite the idea for boys 
to go to sea. 

John Stairs was sent to sea, and in due time became Cap- 
tain John Stairs. 

William was also sent to sea, or rather wished for the life, 
and this when very young, about twelve years of age. I have 
heard him relate that when a boy of this age he used, on his 
way to school, to pass (from where his uncle Stayner lived) 
the corner now the hardware store, and Mr. ELidston, the 
grandfather of the gentleman in Glasgow, stopped the boy 
and asked him if he would like to be a shop boy in his store. 
William firmly said " No," so he went to sea and made, I 
think, a voyage to Boston and back to Halifax. He was so 
dreadfully sea-sick that he could do nothing on board the 
vessel, almost dying of seasickness. When he got ashore he 
was quite satisfied that the sea would not do for him, so pre- 
senting himself to Mr. Kidston he simply said, " I am come"; 
and so began our connections with the Kidstons. 

It was the custom in those days to bind boys as appren- 
tices. I suppose he was duly bound, because he remained a 
clerk with Mr. Kidston and with a firm, Kidston, Dobson & 
Telford, until he was 21 years of age. 1 think when of age 
he went into business of his own account, and continued there 
for a few years. There was a gentleman doing business just op- 
posite to the old corner where the C'ustonL'* House now stands, 
Mr. Winckworth Allen. He was going out of business and 
had a large and general stock of goods on hand, of which he 
wished to dispose. He had a clerk with him, Henry Austen, 
and he arranged tliat if Henry Austen and William Stairs 

formed a co-partnership, he would sell them his stock at a 
bargain. They duly formed a co-partnery and did business 
in the place Mr. Allen had occupied. By all accounts the 
firm Austen & Stairs did not do a profitable business, and 
dissolved partnership about the year 1816. England was 
then at war with the United States, and of course English 
goods could not be sent directly into the United States. The 
merchants of Halifax fitted out vessels and took their goods 
to the "' lines " bordering on the State of Maine on to New 
Brunswick. Castine, on the Penobscot Kiver, was the seat 
of this trade. Your grandfather took a consignment of 
goods to Castine and sold them, whether to profit or not I 
cannot say. This kind of trade was of course soon over. 

The Castine funds, tlie foundation of Dalhousie College 
Endowments, came from this trade; it represented the duties 
paid by merchants at the lines. 

The corner of George street and Cheapside, now Bedford 
Row, then one of the best stands in the city, was owned and 
occupied as a general store by a Scotsman named Wm. Kid- 
ston, a man possessing all the best characteristics of his race. 
Mr. Kidston lived over this store. Twenty years previously 
it was owned and occupied as a general store and residence 
by Brook Watson, the Halifax man who subsequently became 
Sir Brook Watson, Lord Mayor of London, and a member of 
the Imperial Parliament. In 1785 (101 years ago) Brook 
Watson sold the corner to William Kidston for £1,000, 
subjec^t to a £242 mortgage to Jolm Fillis, in all £1,242 ster- 
ling, a pretty fair price in the 36th year of our history, for 
the comer lot and the little shanty that then stood upon it. 

May 23rd, 1814, when he was 25 years of age, your grand- 
father married Margaret Wiseman the day she was 21 years 

AiteT the dissolution of partnership with Henry Austen, 
my father continued business without any partner, and I 
remember that about the year 1825, when I was five years old, 

be bought from the Kidstons the building comer of George 
street and Bedford Row, where he had served his time as a 
clerk. He was tlien about 35 years of age. He gave for this 
property £1,800 or $7,200, and his business was from that 
time out more settled and prosperous. 

His family lived in the dwelling above the shop until 
1834, some nine years. In 1834 lie built the house on Hollis 
street, where James now lives, and continued to live there 
until 1849, when he removed to a house he had built on Tobin 
street, now owned by Mrs. Taylor. 

His business was a very general one, which brought busi- 
ness connections over the Province, but more especially in 
tlie Eastern and Shore counties. In 1841, when your grand- 
father was 51 years of age, he made me a partner in his busi- 
ness. By this time he was, for Halifax, a well-to-do man, 
though not what men called a rich man. 

The business was conducted under the firm of William 
Stairs & Son. Three years after this he took his son John 
into the business, and tlie firm was William Stairs & Sons. 
This continued for nine years, when John left the business 
and set uji for himself, the business then being, as before, 
« William Stairs & Son.^' 

In the year 1854, Robert Morrow, who had married his 
daughter Helen, became a partner in the business, which has 
since been known as " William Stairs, Son & Morrow.'' 

If you read the history of Nova Scotia and of Joseph 
Howe, you will see that tliere was a question agitating the 
public mind; it was that of Responsible Government. Poli- 
tical parties were known as " Liberals " and " Conservatives." 
Your grandfather took a leading ]>art among the Liberals, 
and seconded Mr. Howe in his public action; at general meet- 
ings of the Liberal parly he acted as chairman. In IS — he 
was elected a member for the township of Halifax, and was 
a warm friend of Herbert Huntingdon. By the defection of 
the Roman Catholics, who had gained much from the Liberal 

party, he was defeated at an election for the township. His 
successful opponent was Andrew Uniacke, a Conservative. 

In 1850 he was nominated as a member of the Legislative 
Council. He had in general politics supported Mr. Howe, 
and this he did until upon the question of Government Kail- 
ways, Mr. Howe advocated the buihling of Nova Scotia 
railways by t>e Govenur.ent. Mr. Johnstone, leader of the 
Opposition, led up liis party, contending that company rail- 
ways were more in tlie interest of the public. Yiy fatlier, on 
this question, would not support Mr. Howe in his incurring 
a provincial debt to build the Windsor railway; at the same 
time he would not vote with the Jolinstone party; he there- 
fore retired from tb.e Legislative Council ; tMs vvas in the 
year 18 — . He took no active part in politics or public affairs 
after this. 

Thirty years ago the banking accommodation of Halifax 
was such as was provided by the Halifax Banking Company, 
the Bank of Nova Scotia and the Bank of British North 
America. It seemed as if an opening was available for the 
startincr of a new bank. Mr. Jolm Gibson and your grand- 
father talked this over, whilst out on a fishing excursion (of 
which he was very fond), and in the summer of 1855, return- 
ing from Musquodoboit, they wrote a few notes to such 
gentlemen and business friends as they supposed might be 
inclined to join them in promoting the establishment of a 
new bank. 

The Union Bank was then established, and Mr. Stairs 
elected President. The presidency of the Bank occupied his 
attention and caused him largely to withdraw from the busi- 
ness of the firm. He continued to act as President of the 
Bank until his death in 1865. In 1851 my mother died, and 
he was much cast down, but rallied, and the later years of his 
life he was well and hearty. He lived very quietly and peace- 
fully, occupying the house on Tobin street, my sister Kath- 
erine keeping house for him. 


In November, 18G5, he was stricken with paralysis. He 
had been in toA^Ti in the morning, had visited us at tlie office, 
and had been at the Bank. After leaving the Bank he took 
a cab to go home, and reached the steps of his own house, 
when he fell into the arms of the cabman who was helping 
him out of the cab. Ho never looked up, but after a fortnight 
of seeming suffering he died on November 17th, 1865. 

It is but common words to write, !)ut truly he was greatly 
respected as a merchant and a citizen. Walking with him at 
mv mothei-'s funeral (whv I said it I know not other than at 
the impulse of my feelings), I said "Sir, tlie longer I live 
and the older I get, the niore I value my father." And so 
it was and is. 

His mother, Joanna Stayner, was a member of the San- 
demanians, a people who, vrliile they put away from them a 
paid ministry as unscriptural and a snare, they lived near to 
God ; and I think tlie habit of your grandfather's mind was 
nearness to God and ever-readiness to die. The last years of 
hi-s life it was the absorbing thought of his mind to be ready 
for death. I never heard him speak of death as a matter of 
anxiety, but he always, as I judge iiiuj, wished to be found 
prepared for its gri^at change. 

Your clear Grandfather Stairs was taken ill on Friday, 
17th November, 1865. He had been up town at the office and 
at the Bauk. He entered the office about half-past ten o'clock. 
I was engaged talking about the business of the Strait of 
Canso Marino Railway with Mr. Paint and two other gentle- 
men. I observed your grandfather looked pale and as if he 
was poorly, but he passed (m to look at the books. He read 
over an entry relating to a bill of exchange, and asked Mr. 
Grant to whom he had sold it. Mr. Grant remarked after 
father was taken ill, that his question somewhat surprised 
him, because, as he said, it was unlike his usual clearness 
when looking at an entry, as in the entry it was written to 
whom it was sold. 

Between one and two o'clock I received a note from yonr 
uncle, John DuSus, to say tliat father had been taken sud- 
denly ill. I hastened to his house, and he was sitting up 
supported in his bed. We tlien (Doctor Hattie, Jolm Duffus 
and myself) managed to get his clothes off and have him, 
covered up in bed, and the doctor applied ice to his head. 

Your grandfatlier had, after leaving the office, gone to 
the Union Bank, of which he was President, and still seem- 
ingly quite well, left the Bank in a cab to go home to dinner. 
On his way home, and near his door he must have experienced 
the first shock of paralysis, for when the cab stopped the cab- 
man had to help him out of the cab up the steps, and he was 
unable to get the piece of money out of bis waistcoat pocket to 
pay the fare. The cabman wont off without his pay. This 
distressed your grandfather, and although unable to speak, 
he was able to walk to the door and look anxiously down the 
street after the cabman. 

Your aunt Kate managed to get him to the back parlor 
into his chair, when he seemed to be entirely overcome. Your 
aunt Anna joined her, and they alone had to do what the}'! 
could until some man came and went for the doctor and help. 
Doctor Hattie soon reached him and did what he could in 
the way of ice to his head and warm water to his feet and aid 
to the bowels. 

We nursed your dear grandfather day and night most 
carefully for eleven days, sometimes with hopes of his re- 
covery, and at times sadly distressed. After Saturday, the 
eighth day, we had small hope, as on that day he must, from 
his sjTnptoms, have had a second attack, and this took from 
him the power of swallowing. Before this he had taken 
nourishment quite sufficient to sustain him. On Tuesday, the 
28th ISTovember, we felt it was not probable he would live long, 
and his children kept near him, grieved to hear his quick and 
distressed breathing. At ten minutes past one o'clock p.m., 
his breath became ver}' feeble. He opened his eyes, which 
had been closed for nearly twenty hours. Wl^cn he first 


opened them they looked as if he could not see, but soon lie 
half closed his eyelids and his eyes looked bright and clear; 
and looking upwards he breathed his last as peacefully as a 
child drop{)ing to sleep. 

There were present your Aunt Kate, myself, your Uncle 
John Stairs, your Aunt Helen and Anna. xVunt Mary- Stairs 
and your Uncle Kobert. 

Your Aunt ]Margaret Jones, your dear mother, and Uncle 
Alfred and John Duifus were not present, having been there 
a short time before, and tliinking he would live through the 
day, they had gone away. 

Your dear grandfather was not able to speak during his 
illness, but was able intelligently to welcome each of his chil- 
dren and friends as they approached his bedside. I believe 
while he lay upon his bed he was fully assured that he would 
not live, and was looking forward to a happy home through 
the merits of his Saviour. His faith was very pure and 
simple, as your dear Aunt Kate said while standing by Ms 
bedside watching his breath coming weaker and weaker: 
" Grandfather ' did justly, loved mercy and walked humbly 
with his God.' " And this, dear children, is a true Christian's 

I would recx3rd a singular coincidence in a use of these 
expressive words at two eventful periods of my life. The 
first was, they were the words of admonition used by my 
mother in the first letter slie ever wrote to me when 1 left 
home at 13 years of age for school at Horton, nnd then again 
as T have given tl'eni used by your Aunt Kate '?>o years after- 
wards, over father's divitli-lxMl. Yon, my dear children, may 
well take thes(? words as a creed fit to live to and fit to com- 
fort one another witit, if you live a life of goodness; and I 
trust you will all nnncnd)er, or all hut the very youngest, that 
we buried d<'ar gramlfather at Camp Hill Cemetery on 
Friday, DMcmber 1st, 18G.5, alongside and to the north of 
your grandmother. 


The funeral was a very long one. The community paid 
due honour to ^grandfather's memory. After his sons, sons- 
in-law, grandsons, nephews and cousins, came his friends, 
Mr. Grant and all our staff from the office and stores, the 
directors and officers of the Union Bank, the Mayor and City 
Council, a very great concourse of citizens and carriages. 
Those who were curious counted 26 carriages. 

Your grandfather was 7() years of age when he died, and 
was very smart, and upon all mattms talked like a young 
man. After his death, while lying in his coffin, he looked 
very young and gentle, showing features of quit« a womanly 
cast. All people who knew your grandfather spoke well of 
him. The newspapers of the town almost all alluded to him 
and his character, both public and private. 

Grandfather began business upon his own account when 
he was 31 years of age, and was engaged all his life. When 
he died he was President of the Union Bank. He was Mayor 
of Halifax in the year 184S. He had been a member for the 
City in the General Assembly, and was at one time member 
of the Legislative Council, from which body he retired rather 
than oppose Mr. Howe's Government upon tlie matter of Gov- 
ernment Eailways. He was a warm supporter of Mr. Howe's 
policy, which gave to this country tb.e principle of Kesponsible 

I am very sorry your grandfather had not been in the 
habit of keeping any written memoranda of the prominent 
events in his long life. Had he been so, I would verv much 
value such a record. 

[The foregoing family history was written by W. J. Stairs, in 1886.] 

Mr. William Kidston, gTandson of the Mr. Kidston from 
whom grandfather bought the corner store, died some few 
years ago, and in his will left his diamond ring to W. J. Stairs, 
who just before his death gave it to his son James, with, 
instructions to leave it to his son William, who must leave it 
to his son, or to the oldest male member of the Stairs family. 


Warrant for the Appointment of William Stairs to be 

Member of the Legislative Council op Nova 

Scotia, Signed by Queen Victoria. 

William Stairs, Esq., to be a member of the Legislative 
Council, iSTova Scotia. 

Right trusty and Right well-beloved Cousin^ We greet 
you well ! We being well satisfied of the loyalty, integrity 
and ability, of oor trusty and well-beloved WILLLA.M 
STAIRS, Esquire, have thouo:ht fit hereby to signify our 
Will and Pleasure that forthwith upon the receipt of these 
Presents, you swear and admit him, the said WILLL\M 
STAIRS, to be of our Legislative Council of Our Province 
of Nova Scotia. And for so doing this shall be your 

Given at our Court at Windsor, this Seventeenth day of 
January, J §50, in the Thirteenth year of our Reign. 

By Her Majesty's Command. 

(Sgd.) GREY. 

[on reverse side.] 

To our Iiiglit Trusty and llight Well-beloved Cousin, 
James. Earl of Elgin and Kincardine, Knight of the Most 
Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, our Captain- 
General and Governor-in-Chief in and over our Province of 
Nova Scotia, or, on his absence to our Lieutenant-Governor, 
or the Officer administrating the Government of the said 


Extract from " The, Sun and Advertiser," Wednesday, 

November 29th, 1865. 

A Good Man Has Fallen. 

We regret having to record the deatli of W. Stairs, Esq., 
which took place yesterday. The deceased was attacked with 
paralysis while riding home on the 17tli inst.. from which he 
never rallied. In all the relations of life Mr. Stairs was held 
in high esteem. As a merchant, a civic ruler, a legislator, 
and lastly, as the President of the Union Bank, his conduct 
was marked hy a probity highly commendable. As a hus- 
band, father and friend, kindnot^s and benevolence predomi- 
nated. He has ended a long life of usefulness, passing away 
peacefully in his 77th year with an unstained reputation. 

Extract from "The Sun and Advertiser." 
Union Bank of Halifax. 

Wednesday Novemh'er 29th, 18G5. 

As the funeral of Wm. Stairs, Esq., the late I'resident of 
this Bi^nk, will take place on Friday, the 1st Decein})er, this 
office will be closed on tliat day at one o'clock, p. m., and 
parties having business to transact with the Bank will please 
govern themselves accordingly. 

By order of the Board. 

W. S. Stirling, Cashier. 

Copied from " The Halifax Citizen," November 2Sth, 1865. 

In our columns to-day is recorded the death of William 
Stairs, Esq., Senior, one of the oldest and most esteemed 
citizens of Halifax. He was attacked with paralysis while 
riding home from his business on Friday, 17th inst. For 
some days hopes were entertained that he would rally, but on 
Saturday last unfavourable symptoms appeared, from which 
time he gradually sank until he peacefully expired at a little 
after 1 p.m. to-day. For many years Mr. Stairs held a pro- 
minent place in the mercantile community, and was always 
conspicuous among his associates for enterprise and liberality 
of character as a business man, and for the high-toned sense 
of honour that marked all his dealings. 


Perliaps lie leaves behind him no man in Nova Scotia who 
has more faithfully discharged all the duties of citizenship. 
From his earliest manhood until the close of a life somewhat 
exceeding the allotted span of three'^core and ten years, his 
career was one of active usefulness. He served his native city 
in the office of !Mayor, and the Province a-; a member of tlie 
LegisUitive Council and House of Assembly. At the time of 
his death he was President of the Union Bank, a position that 
he had filled ably and honourably for years. He M'as a man 
of expansive benevolence, using generously and wisely the for- 
tune that rewarded the industry of his early years; and the 
affectionate esteem he commanded in all the social and pri- 
vate relations of life wa.s fully equal to the influence he exer- 
cised in the public affairs of the country. The limited space 
of time at our command previous to going to press renders it 
impossible for us to-day to give anything more than this very 
brief and imperfect outline of this good man's career. 

Fro:m the Family Bible of William Stairs. 

Willi Ail, second son of John Stairs, bom January 21st, 


Margaret, only daughter of James Wiseman, born May 23rd, 

Were married in St. i\latthew's Church on the 23rd May, 

1814, bv Rev. Doctor (Jrev. 


Catherine Mary, born July 5th, 181(), baptized by Dr. Grey. 
Joanna Stayner, Ijorn January 2()th, 1818, baptized by Dr. 

Grey, died July, 184r,. 
William James. b<3rn September 24tli, 1819, baptized by Dr. 


John (Jcorge, born September 21st, 1821, baptized by Eev. 

Kobt. Knox. 
John, born April 1st, 1823, baptized by llev. Robt. Ivnox, 

died at Cannes, March 22nd, 1888. 
Margaret Wiseman, born June, 1825, married Alfred Gilpin 

Jones, July 17th, 1850, died February 1st, 1875. 


Helen Sophia, born July 10th, 1827, married Robert Mor- 
row, June 21st, 1854, died March 17th, 1894. Eobert 
Morrow died August 5th, 1885. 

Frances Mary, born March 6th/, 1830, died N'oveniber 30th, 

Anna Marshall, bom IMarch 20th, 1832, married John Duffus, 
March 26th, 1856, died November 27th, 1866. 

Margaret Wiseman^ my mother, was the only child of James 
Wiseman and Katherine Grant. 

James Wiseman, son of Wiseman and Elspeth Duffus. 

James Wiseman had a sister Isabella, who married Wil- 
liam Duncan. They liad two sons and one daughter. 
William Dmican, their son, lived in Savannah, Georgia. 
Alexander lived in Dundee; he was a minister of the 
Scotch Church. 

William Dimcan's daughter, Eugenie, married James 
Johnston, now (1887) in Savannah. 

James Wiseman, died June 10th, 1798. His grave is in the 
old Burial Ground. 

From the Tombstones in St. Paul's Burial Ground. 

In memory of Catherine Donaldson, who departed 
this life, April 14th, 1827, aged 55 years. 

Here lies the body of Charles Grant, Esq., late 

Captain in the First Battalion of His Majesty's 

42nd Royal Highland Regiment of Foot, 

who departed this life the 1st day of 

February, in the year of our Lord, 

1785. Aged 44 years. 


In memory of Mary Aim, 

Wife of Jolm Morrow, 

Died ytli January, 1836, 

Aged oiJ Years, 


Sarah, daugluer of Jolm and Mary Ann Morrow, 

Born 2ud JJccember, 18o2, 

Died Uth March. ISoO. 
Aged G years and 3 months. 

Sacred to the memory of James, Son of 

James and Catherine Wiseman, who departed 

this life ()th of February, l?i)8, aired months and G da vs. 

In memory of James Wiseman 

Who departed this life June lOtli, 1798^ 

Aged 42 years. 


Katherine Grant, wife of James Wiseman, was tlie daughter 
of Li'wis Grant and jMargaret ^ylePherson. 

Margaret McPherson was the daughter of Katherine 
Farquharson. She liad a twin brother, Lewis Grant, who 
lived either in Guysboro or in Gape Breton. She mar- 
ried secondly (Jleorge Donaldson, son of a worthy Scotch 
fanner wlio lived at ({reenfield. in the Eastern Passage. 
She was one of sixteen children. 



John Fitzwilliam Stairs, son of William James Stairs and 
Susan Morrow. Born 19tli January, 1848. Married 
Charlotte Jane Fogo, April 27th, 1870, only child of 
James and Jane Fogo, born at Pictou, October 21st, 
1847, died at Halifax May 38tli, 1886. 


Ethel Mary, born March 13th, 1871. 

Jane Macdonald, born January 11th, 1873, died August, 

James Alfred, born December 21st, 1876, married Margaret 

Hillman, of Philadelphia, April 18th, 1906. 

Gerakline Louise, born September 4th, 1878; married Novem- 
ber 30th, 1901, to Lieut. Hughes Campbell Lockyer, 
K. N., son of Sir Norman Lockyer, K.C.B., F.R.S. 
Hughes Campbell, their son, born September 3rd, 1903. 

Gilbert Sutherland, born November 11th, 1883. 

Walter, born May 8th, 1884, died May 34th, 1886. 

Eric, born October 37th, 1885. 

John Fitzwilliam Stairs married again August 14th, 1895, 

Helen Eliza Bell, born June 9th, 1863, and widow 

of William Gaherty. 

One child, Margaret Rosamond, born 30th October, 
John P. Stairs, died at Toronto, September 36th, 1904. 

James WISEMA^^ Stairs, born 15th May, 1851. Son of Wil- 
liam James Stairs and Susan Morrow. Married Jane 
Macdonald, November 13th, 1873, born March 18th, 




William James, born December 14th, 1874. 
Eleanor MacdonaJd, born September 4th, 187G. 
Joan Wiseman, born February- 12th, 1890. 

Edward Stairs, son of William James Stairs and Susan Mor- 
row. Born loth July, 1854, married October 23rd, 1878, 
Isabella Boyd Scott, born 14th April, 1S5G. 


Susan Isabella, born September Stii, 1879, married April 14th, 
1905, to Dr. Itoljert Magill. Susan Eileen, their child, 
born April ISth. lOOG. 

Edward Geoffrey, born January 7th, 1832. 

Errol Scott, born November 22nd, 1883, died August 19th, 

Olive Mary, born February 25th, 1885. 

Kathleen, born September 2Gth, 18S7. 

Kennet, born May 30th, 1889. 

Cyril Walter, born September 3rd, 1891. 

Hu<rh Morrow, born March 2nd, 189;>. 

Pliilip Boyd, born November 23rd, 18!)4. 

Roberts Dundonald, born February 20t]i, 1900. 

George Stairs, bom February 29th, 1856, son of William 
James Stairs and Susan Morrow. Married Helen Mac- 
Kenzie, October 1st, 1884. Helen MacKenzie died April 
13tli, 1894. 


Dorothy Helen, born January 9tb, 1886. 
George William, born August 25th, 1887. 
Denis, born May 3rd, 1889. 
John Cuthbert, born December 3rd. 1891. 
Helen Elizabeth, born April 11th, 1894. 


Herbert Stairs. Born 21st March, 1859, son of William 
James Stairs and Susan Morrow. Married Bessie Eaton 
September 31st, 1881. Bessie Eaton born 11th October, 


Edith, born 8th August, 1883. 
Mary Macdonald, born 25tli August, 1885. 
Alice Eaton, born December 4th, 1893. 
William Herbert, born 8th June, 1903. 

Gavin Lang Stairs. Born 21st September, 1861, son of 
William James Stairs and Susan Morrow. Married 
Ellie Cos, December, 1885. 


Katherine, born December 18th, 1886, died March 14th, 1890. 
Gordon Salter, born August olst, 1889. 
Herbert Mon-ow, born June 15th, 1891. 
Graham, born April 14th, 1894. 
Gavin, born June 22nd, 1896. 

Mary Anne Stairs. Born 30th September, 1849, daugh- 
ter of William James Stairs and Susan Morrow. Mar- 
ried May 18th, 1883, Charles Macdonald. Died 34th 
July, 1883. Charles Macdonald died March 11th, 1901, 
aged 70 years. 

Charles, born 23rd July, 1883. 

Margaret Wiseman Stairs. Born 36th March, 1853, 
daughter of William James Stairs and Susan Jilorrow. 

Married 16th June, 1880, Alfred John Townend, born 
July 5th, 1839. 



Wniiam, born Halifax, July 27th, 1881. 
Alfred Bernard Stairs, born Halifax, (3ctober 5tli, 1882. 
AUice Mary, born Halifax, December 18th, 1883. 
Francis Whitechurch, born Halifax, July lOtli, 1885. 
Herbert Patrick Victor, l)orn Dublin, March 11th, 1887. 
Eay Duncan Morrow, born Dublin, January 31st, 1881). 
Margaret Susan Catherine, born Gibraltar, May 27th, 1890. 
Harry Douglas, born Gibraltar, December 27th, 1891. 
-Gerald Arthur, born Ealing, October 3rd, 1893. 


Last Will and Testament of Mrs. Machin^ Widow op 

Denis Staies. 

July 16th, 1782. 

Before the Notary Eoyal in the Island of Grenada, resid- 
ing in the town of Port Royal, in the pr^ence of the witnesses 
named and underwritten, was personally present Hannah 
Roe, widow in the first marriage of Denis Stairs and now 
wife of William Machin, born in the County of Galway, Ire- 
land, about forty-eight years old, who has requested us to 
come to her house situate on the upper part of the parade of 
this town, where we have found her in an upper room lying 
in bed sick of body, but of sound judgment, memory and un- 
derstanding, as it has appeared to us and to the witnesses 
subscribed, and where she hath declared to us by the ministry 
of Mr. John Baptist Sepancoir, known interpreter of the 
English language, whom we found in the same house, that 
she was desirous of making her last will and testament, in 
consequence whereof the said lady attended as aforesaid has 
said and declared of herself this her personal last will and 
testament in the following manner: — 

1st. The said lady recommends her soul to God, etc. 

2nd. That her lawful debts be paid. 

3rd. Testatrix bequeaths to Elizabeth Larldn a sum of 
tbree hundred and thirty livres, French West India currency, 
once paid as an acknowledgment of her attachment. 

4th, And whereas by a deed bearing date of 10th Octo- 
ber, 1773, subscribed imder the English laws, forms and 
language, which has been read by the same interpreter, the 
said lady reserved to herself the free disposition of a sum of 
two thousand pounds currency, being equal to forty thousand 
livres French West India currency, and of the interest on the 
same from the day of her marriage with the said Machin at 
the rate of six per centum per annimi, in consequence thereof 


the testatrix lias declared tliat she bequeaths the eaid sum, as 
well as the interest thereon, to be calculated from the day 
she was married to the day of her decease ; that is to say, one- 
half to her son Jolm Stairs, by her first marriage, who is in 
Halifax, America, and the other half to be divided as follows, 
that is to say, one-third of the said half to the said John 
Stairs, and the other two-tliirds to be divided and shared 
between the two children of tlie said John Stairs, tlie testa- 
trix declaring tliat a lot of land with the buildings thereon 
situate in this said town of Port Royal, bounded on the east 
by Deponthieu street, on the south by Granby street, on the 
west by I^ewis street, and on tlie north by other lands tliat 
belong to the said testatrix before her said marriage, is bound 
and made chargeable for the payment of the said sum and of 
the interest thereon pursuant to the said l)efore-mentioned 
deed, that the legacies be delivered up to the said devisees 
immediatelv after her decease. 


The testatrix annuls all former wills, appoints Martin 
and Donald Campbell, of the said town, merchants, to be 
executors of said will. 

The lady having been asked, pursuant to the ordinance, 
whether she would subscribe her name hereunto, has declared 
she could not do it, and the said witnesses and interpreter 
have hereunto set their hands, after the same had been read. 

After the will wa.s read to the testatrix, she has declared, 
by way of codicil, that she bequeaths to the fr(x> negro woman 
named Patience, her negro woman named Fanny. 

The whole of which has been read to the testatrix, who 
declares herself to be satisfied with the same. 

(Here follow the names of the witnesses which cannot be 

Note. — Mrs. Macliin was unable to affix her signature 
owing to the feeble condition of her bodily health. 


John Stairs, son of Denis Stairs, to his brother-in- 
law, Mr. Stayner, in Halifax. 

Dear Brother, — This is my third to you since 1st of 
November last. 

I make no doubt but the anxiety of all your minds must 
be great, since the late dreadful visitation on this city, which 
lasted upwards of three montlis, during which period it 
destroyed upwards of five ttiousand persons. Such mortality 
I never beheld, and would have been more so had not the most 
of the city fled from the contagion. I shall inform you as 
nearly as I can during the disorder. About the ord of Sep- 
tember tlie doctor foimd it out. previous to which nine 
eminent physicians were carried off by it. The Collector and 
his family fled, as did the Deputy Collector and clerks, but 
myself, Mr. Delaney's son-in-law, a druggist, remained and 
acted as Deputy witli the naval olficer and myself. All sat 
at one desk to do what business might occur, but during the 
space of one week I was left alone; both took the disorder 
and were carried oft'. Neddy King came and bade us good-bye 
and went about 90 miles in the country to Hawest during the 
period of disorder with his employer, who is a very good man 
and extremely fond of Ned. I myself and family enjoyed a 
great share of health during its first appearance until the 
middle of October, and now, my dear brother, prepare your- 
self for the dismal tale of my family. It is not in my power 
to write mother on the subject; it would be too distressing to 
her; but hope her known patience as a Christian will enable 
her to stand so dreadful a shock — dreadful, I must say it was 
to me, and very sudden. Then on Thursday morning, 17th 
of October, my dear Joanna was taken with every symptom 
of the disorder. I fled for all the aid I could obtain for her 
relief, and procured two skilful physicians, who did every- 
thing in their power. I remained with her the whole time 
with a neighbour who offered herself as nurse; and on 


Friday morning she appeared worse and was quite wild. Judge 
my situation, dear brother: an inf;mt at the breast I was 
obliged to take from her, iuid send everj^here to procure a 
nurse. At lengtli with great difficulty I obtained a woman 
to take it. Before night she was quite calm and remained so 
and perfectly sensible. On Saturday morning h§r tongue was 
quite black, which in a moment convinced me that she had 
the disorder in a very violent degree. But alas! how soon 
was I deprived of my dear wife, who continued ill until Sun- 
day. On Sunday morning she said to me: "My dear Mr. 
Stairs, I am going to leave you," and exclaimed at the same 
time, " My poor mother !" She then told me to consider the 
charge I had and to be good to tlie cliildren. After that she 
never mentioned them. She then called to hold my head 
down to her, which I did. She then said in a low accent, 
" Good-bye, my dear husband ; I have made peace with 
Heaven." She then continued in prayer until about 11 
o'clock on Sunday morning, when I saw she was nearly gone, 
and at twelve o'clock the same day left this troublesome 
world. Dear John, can you form any idea of my situation 
after this? The woman nurse performed every friendly 
action ; then judge my feelings — not a friend in the world to 
assist me in procuring any necessary articles, but all fell upon 
myself. At that moment I forgot myself when I looked on 
my children, who were all grieving terribly for tlie loss of a 
tender, affectionate mother. I must and was obliged to fly 
and procure persons who had aided in the burial of persons 
during the disorder, who got all that could be procured, and 
my poor John and myself were all that followed her to the 
grave. Slio, dear woman, lies in St. Peter's Churchyard. 
When I returned it seemed impossible that she could be gone 
who was only on the Wedno-day evening before never more 
cheerful and hearty. 

Poor Xeddie King came to town in about a fortnight after. 

My heart depressed, and not knowing what to do with my 
little ones, no relations to assist me, my fear for them 


as well as myself respecting the fever was not a little. My- 
self nor any of the children ever stayed from her. In fifteen 
days after, the good woman who nursed her died of the dis- 
order she took from my poor Joe. You cannot conceive my 
fears even at that time. I, nor the children, ever took any 
medicine whatever. I was still thankful to have the children 
left, but I was perfectly easy; it was in the power of Him 
that gave to take away, and even now my troubles still 
increase daily. My dear little Abby, poor, unfortunate child, 
after having got her to a nurse, in about three weeks after 
the deatli of her mother the nurse was taken ill. I was com- 
pelled to go at ten o'clock at night to search for a fresh 
nurse, wliich I procured witli difficulty — a woman who had 
an infant of a month old at her breast. She pleaded with me 
and told me the danger she ran in taking the poor babe, but 
at last consented to take her at $2.00 per week. Shortly after 
she was attacked with the whooping cough to a violent degree. 
When she got better of that she was attacked with the 
chicken-pox and then with her teeth ; she had six teeth at six 
months old. But I hope it is all over with her now, except 
the small-pox; myself and the children are all perfectly well. 
John goes to school constant. The Collector takes John in 
April as his own; he sends him up to iSTazareth to school, a 
college about ninety miles off, and finds him in clothing and 
lodging until he is fit for whatever turn he may take. It is 
very kind of him. Dear brother, just as our prospects were 
advancing, your dear sister seemed quite pleased with her 
situation. Before her illness I was made Deputy Collector in 
his absence. His letters to me were very kind and professed 
every act of friendship for me. I am now his first clerk at 
$600 per annum, besides a complement he made of two hands 
more for my services, in doing the whole business of the Cus- 
toms House in his absence. The expense during my misfor- 
tune was great; in three days it cost me not less than $60.00, 
exclusive of the doctor's bills, which were $70.00. However, 
I was thankful I had it in my power to discharge them. Dear 


Stayner. you must not be too quick to inform mother of Uic 
dreadful tale too soon, but yourself and Brother King must 
let her know of it by degree's. You shoidd have heard oftener 
but all communication was cut off with all parts of the con- 
tinent. Vessels from here were obliged to perform quaran- 
tine of forty days, and the packets from New York did not 
leave that port for Halifax. It is dreaded by every person 
that the disoriler will again appear iis s(X)n as the weather 
alters and grows warm. The first opp<irtunity from this 
place I will send you a pamphlet published respecting the 
fever, with the manner in which people are taken, and the 
names of all that died. It is not in the power of my pen to 
describe the horrors of such a distemper. There are upwards 
of one hundred and forty orphans who were sent to the hos- 
pital, who have lost father and mother and all connections. 
They are kept together in a house procured for them, and 
kept comfortable — children, I suppose, whose parents had 
been in ;ifHuence; the wife fled from her sick husband, and 
the husband the same. 

My dear brother, you must excuse my dwelling long upon 
so painful a subject, llemember your unfortunate brother 
to all the connection. I shall 1)0 able to write mother the 
next time. She must pardon my not writing her, and do be 
so kind as to write me soon. Mrs. Muloney died the begin- 
ning of October, and li. Courtney died in the country in Sep- 

J am, with my best wishes, dear brother, your much 
afflicted ami grieved brother, 

(Signed) John Stairs, 

riiiladelphia, November 12th, 1793, 




Britannia Terrace, 

March 29, ISJfS. 

The Memoranda comnienced upon the opposite page with 
reference to tlie expense of housekeeping appear not to have 
been very carefully continued. They were comnienced in 
January, 1846, and the last entry is made on the 7th Feb- 
ruary the same year, a period of thirty-eight days. How 
long we keep to resolutions or systems that are not impera- 
tively necessary! It is better to allow all systems pertaining 
to minor matters to be tlie result of experience or necessity. 
What is more than this cometh of botheration. 

March 29th, ISJfS. — A short time since, resolved upon the 
expediency of filing a newspaper as the best history of pass- 
ing events, and it will preserve for my boys the truest history 
of their country. Wlien I am old they can read of Howe 
and Huntingdon, of the battling with obstructions for British 
representative institutions, of the fathers of progress in Nova 
Scotia; herculean labours in the Aegean stables of our politics. 
These worthy men are now in power after a fight of ten or 
fifteen years varying in intensity, but always a fight. 

The best description of Huntingdon appeared a few num- 
bers since in the Acadian Recorder above the signature of 
" Peter Pasquin," supposed to be the Honourable Jonathan 

April 1st, ISJfS.— The French Revolution of 1848 is the 
third revolution within fifty years. From the first France 
partially settled down into a state of infidel socialism, the 
tyranny of kings had given place to the tyranny of the mob, 
again to be succeeded by the despotic n;le of the Bourbons 
and its consequent reaction. It is to be hoped the experience 


has now tauglit wisdom. The (hiy of kingly authority has 
probably pasbXid forever from France. The French have 
tried this form of Govermnent and found it wanting. The 
circumstances of a free Republic will be found to be tlie only 
state suitable for France. 

April 15th, ISJiS. — In Nova Scotia, constitutional govern- 
ment has been established. Colonial Toryism has been swal- 
lowed up by development of society. 

May 31st, ISJ/S. — Of political events I will not WTite, at 
least for tlie present. Of trade I have to remark that it is 
dull and lifeless. All holders of goods are aULxious to realize 
and lessen their liabilities. This has, with the scarcity of 
money from the absence of remunerative bu.siness, the effect 
of greatly reducing prices. Goods are being sold l)y many 
parties at prices that will not return the first cost. This 
state of tilings has been induced by the failyre of the crops 
for the last three years. The crop of Nova Scotia, or rather 
the food in average years raised for human sustenance, is com- 
puted to be of the value of £10 for each of her inliabitants. 
To feed a population of 300,000 requires an amount of food 
worth £3,000,000. 

September 11th, 15^5.— Miss Mary Elizabeth Churchill 
and Miss Ann Locke are our honoured guests. We have 
spent the day visiting the Falcon steamer and Province 
Buildings. To-morrow they join a party, the Methodist Sun- 
day School, who celebrate a picnic at Mr. Sam Story's on the 
Nortli-West Ann. The steamer takes the party up to the 
head of the Arm and returns to the banqueting scene. 

September 11th, 1S4S. — Circumstantial account of a duel 
fought at Point Pleasant between the redoubta}>lo Edward 
Parry Nutting and Archibald Dodd, commonly called Archie 
Dodd. They went out and fought. Seconds were Samuel 
Deblois and Thomas Allen; medical attendant, William 


McGregor. Nutting challenged, but niagnammoiusly blew 
the powder with which the pistols were loaded into the air. 
What Dodd did is unknown ; it is supposed he fired sideways. 
After honourably acquitting themselves as gentlemen they 
adjourned to happier scenes. 

.December 20ih, 1S4S. — My wife makes for me a slice of 
buttered toast. I divide it in four parts or quarters, and 
hand her one quarter. Have a good appetite, and not satis- 
fied with what was made, she makes a second slice. I 
divide it as before and hand her one quarter. She has now 
received two quarters, which is equal to one-half, and yet 
complains I was not generous. What think you ? Was it so, 
when she received a half fairly divided? 

Decemler 20th, ISJfS. — The weather has been remarkably 
warm, I have to record it. Up to this date there is compara- 
tively no frost in the ground. I might add that after ten 
o'clock, when the slight frost of the night is dissipated, the 
plough may be easily driven. Out-door work of every kind 
is godng on as in early autumn. My father's new liouse is 
progressing fast. The frame was raised about ten days since ; 
the boarding is now complete and the carpenters commence 
to sliingle to-morrow. It will be an elegant house (Tobin 
street house). 

Decemlfer 20th, ISJfS. — The sea-serpent has been a sub- 
ject of writing and conversation tliis autumn. It is my 
grateful task to tell how nearly I had seen it, in company 
with Mary Morrow; not the sea-serpent, but myself in her 
company. We considered its evolutions or circles beautiful ; 
in length about 100 fathoms; its windings were, however, 
horizontal, not as I had hoped to see it, rising from or 
elevated above the water. It, however, to our sincere morti- 
fication and to the infinite loss of the scholar and naturalist, 
proved to be a mackerel seine, its indiscernible figure pro- 
duced by the receding tide. 


December £Oth, 1848. — Have it in contemplation to write 
upon the important subjects of Industry, Free Trade, Poli- 
tical and Social Progress, in a series of letters addressed to 
the newspaper readers of Nova Scotia. 

1'HEME: Industry, Free Trade, Political and Social 


My Dear Sir, — We have passed many an hour, agreeably 
to me, and I trust not less so to yourself, in discussing such 
points as I have assumed as the topics of a series of letters, 
which, with your permission, I address to you. Be not 
alarmed when I tell you th^at I propose to discuss the import- 
ant subject matters of Industry, Labour and Social Progress. 
It will be in a (piiet, friendly way. Your reavson elevates 
Industry to the first eminence. Your heart is warm to the 
social progress of your fellow-beings, and I would argue from 
the premises that the former is pioneer of the latter. 

First, op Industry. 

Through all the habit of years of close application of 
practical industry, my thoughts revert to their first impres- 
sions of this essential principle. They were received by the 
early admonitions of my mother. She, with a mother's love 
and care, sought to impress upon her son sucli lessons as she 
thouglit would haj)ly carry liim over the rugged pathway of 
life. Often has lier lesson been: ''William, be industrious," 
and to lie.r early training am I indebted for the luibit of close 
application so necessary to accomplish the best work of man. 

To make use of this, if I may be allowed to compare great 
things with small, 1 would avail myself of the privilege, and 
as 1 received my lesson fi-om mv parent, so did the first man 
(Adajn), learn from tlu' Author of his being this law: "In 
tl:<! sweat of thy face slialt thou eat bread till thou return 
unto the ground, for out of it wast thou taken; for dust thou 
art and unto dust slialt thou return." 


Here is God's edict, the first law for Adam's guidance 
under his heavy calamity. Though an outcast and al<jne,, the 
only man, the wide world a desert cursed for his crime, yet 
he had a hope within him and a faith in the promise that by 
labour he should live. 

He had been driven from his terrestrial paradise, but not 
cast down. It was for him and for his children, by labour 
and industry, to cause the barren earth to bring 
forth fruit, to become cultivated as a garden, adorned 
with the choicest works of art and all things beautiful, ele- 
vating our meaner natures, and physically acting upon man 
tliat the grand regenerating principle of moral good may have 
prepared for it a vessel more honourable and excellent and 
worthy the high purpose for which man was originally and 
is intended. 

The law I have quoted is not merely a sentence of con- 
demnation to hard labour. It contains the punishment of 
disobedience, tempered with wisdom and love. God did not 
cast off the work of His hands when in vindication of His 
justice He condemned man; He in the same law showed 
compassion and mercy. He knew the frailties of our 
natures, saying: " For out of the ground wast thou taken, for 
dust tliou art and unto dust shalt thou return." It is by 
labor man is permitted to keep this mortal bod}- in health 
and vigor. The tilling of the ground is not less necessary 
to furnish food for support tlian exercise t(3 recreate our 

An eminent physician, Dr. Curtis, pleading the import- 
ance of air and exercise, calls attention to this law. and only 
promises disease to those by whom it is despised. 

Mankind, in self-support, has ever l)een o])liged to labour. 
The first and most extensive department of labour hrs been 
tilling the ground ; but as men multiplied and gathered into 
communities, a great power was discovered in tlie principle of 
" Division of Labour.'' The tillers of the ground soon found 


tliat instead of each manufacturing the clumsy spade and 
hoe, it was much better for one of the most expert in the 
working of metals to confine himself especially to such pur- 
suit ; they soon realized this system provided them with labor- 
saving implements, one improvement immediately growing 
out of another. This princi])le has since been developing, 
and is the secret of all progress in the arts and great mechani- 
cal acliievements. 

To illustrate what it has accomplished, compare tlie state 
of society in large communities and in isolated localities. In 
the former a medium of exchange has been arranged called 
money and barter. This enables the producers of different 
productions to make such tixchange as supplies the wants of 
all, and not only to more easily suj)ply immediate wants, but 
allows the creation of articles of taste and costliness. Let 
imagination vii5it the gathering of the prodiicts of industry 
that are seen in the Old World. Consider the work of the 
loom, from the homely woollen cloth to the shawls of Paisley 
and cloths of Yorkshire, the cambrics of Manchester, the 
gloves of Xottingham, scarlet and fine apparel, the cutlery 
instriunents of Shetfield, the musical instruments, watches, 
pictures, the books of London and Paris. Compare all these, 
and the society they superinduce, with such passages of life 
as may occur to us when man is thrown upon his own unaided 
resources. We c-annot find anyone perfectly alone, but com- 
paratively so, we may see the settlers' new country, the rude 
implements of husbandry saving little labour, the waste of 
time and small {)rogress made in comforts, the absence of 
elegance and leisure and almost of civilization. 

We cannot review these things without noticing and 
acknowledging the power gained by the ''Division of Labour." 
]t is indeed a power so evident, so constant and continuously 
before us, that we fail, as with great and common gifts — the 
light of day, the water, the heat of fire — we fail, I say, to 
know their excellence. Imagine for an instant a state of 
society where man lived alone and exchanged no products of 

labour. The Imsbandnian, without the working in metals, 
his field would be idle. Xot to continue the picture, which, 
would only be a few stray men hunting the feebler animals; 
to all tlie rest it would be dismay and Stygian darkness, of 
want unalleviated and ending in death. 

When we perceive a great power the absence of which 
implies man an abnormal brute, the presence of which is an 
index of understanding and will, does it not become us to 
consider the value of this principle and act upon it for the 
advancement of society? 

I now come to the practical. I would urge the extension 
of the principle to the adoption of perfectly constructed inter- 
change of industrial production. I would have every man 
apply himself to what he felt most qualified for, or rather to 
tliat pursuit which his inclination would add the most tdk 
the common stock; each clime be appropriated to what it 
most naturally produced. Commerce or interchange would 
equalize and distribute the products of labour. A lesser 
degree of rational labouj would suffice. Social progress would 
be advanced by the enjoyment of some cessation from labour. 
Civilization and refinement would invade the present abodes 
of unintermitting toil. Man would be more rational and 
consequently more happy, and evil be to liim if he abuse a 
great good and give the leisure of civilization up to the un- 
disciplined gratification of enervating ease. 

If I were asked by what name I would call this great 
extension of '' Division of Labour," tliis great system of in- 
terchange, this great civilizer, this co-adjuster of virtue and 
good, I would name and explain it as " Free Trade," and I 
would inveigh against the selfishness, the small-circled 
thoughts of those who would urge monopoly and exclusive- 
ness. Love your neighbour as yourself; hold out your hand 
to distant strangers; trade with, get good by trade with them 
and do them good by the same. Nay, say some, but I have 


ever had a privilege, and tiiis 1 vvould not abandon. But when 
did this privilege arise? I.s it not a usurpation that in the 
ignorance of time gone by v.'as foolishly sanctioned? Is not 
your privileged gain another's unprivileged loss? Is it not 
feudal ratlier than a moi-al right? 

Ca"ry out tlie sAyteni of protection, and where would be 
progress? Where would be steajn-engines, the railway, the 
printing press? They would be wanting. The protected 
rights of their elementary predecessors would have stifled the 
infant giants ; civilization would have been as dormant, want- 
ing these great powers. 

Thanks be to lh)d, men are beings of progress. The 
selfish few have not been able to curb the forward progression 
of the mass. They have impeded, hut not prevented ; and 
this feature of progress, this division of labour, this philan- 
thropist "■ Free Trade '' will encircle the earth, pioneer of the 
blessings of life. 

Considering ,thes(_" things, the order of Providence, the 
good of mankind, by labour v,e shall live, making the 
mind sound and the bod}' stnuig, doing good to others as to 
ourselves, nuiking good inroads into uncultivated minds as 
into uncultivated forests, making the heart to blossom as well 
as the rose, let us labour I sny, and labouring labour wisely 
with vigor and unqualified freedom. Let us assert this our 
right, moral and unalienable. Let not igTiorance hamper nor 
cowardice restrain. Let us seize that selfish principle of pro- 
tection, deposing her as artificial, and olilige her to go forth, 
putting off her meaner and assuming the more glorious garb 
of I'ighteous and self-reliant industry. 

Form. The need and command of labour. 
The honour of lalioiir. 
The division of ]al)onr. 
Free trade. 
Social progress. 


Decemher 27th, ISJ^S. — Have been skating to-day for tlie 
first time tliis season. 

January 10th, ISJfO. — Having entered upon another year,. 
I cannot neglect to say a few words upon the change. 

How have our duties been fulfilled during the yast year?' 
But remissly. What have we done to help our neighbours, 
to advance the cause of humanity? Directly nothing; indi- 
rectly but very trifling have been our efforts, and as insigni- 
ficant the results. Conscious of our shortcomings we hope,, 
in the present year, to lead a life more useful to those around 
as. Very near to my heart is the cause of education — not 
the endowment of colleges and great schools of learning, but 
the establishment of primary schools for the pi)nr a.nd very 
poor. I would like very much to be instrumental in the 
establishing of what are more appropriately known as Kagged 
Schools. With the sum of £50 a year at my disposal, I would 
try the experiment by building a schoolroom and engaging 
a teacher. The urchins should every morning undergo a 
complete scrubbing with soap and sand if necessary, and being 
made clean, commence their task of reading, writing and 
ciphering; and could the scheme be accomplished, in a few 
years I have no doubt the community would show tlie good 
effects of the jj^ood cause. 


Fehruary IJftJi , IS-kO. — Snow storm. The snow began to 
fall on Monday night about 9 o'clock, and in ten hours such 
banks of snow blocked the streets of Halifax the like of which 
were never seen before. The oldest inhabitants, etc., etc. 

Tlie roads to the country are impassable. Provisions 
must become scarce and consequently dear; so good folks that 
give dinners will have less choice, and members of Parliament 
worse fare. We already hear of complaints and lamentations 
and woe, of poor dinners in great, greater and greatest places. 

Fehruary 19th, 1S40. — The House of Assembly have this 
day passed a Bill, annulling the grant of £444 in favour of 


■King's College, The grant was perpetual. It had been 
drawn for 60 years. The Bill was brought in by Mr. Henry, 
The only Liberal members who voted against it were James 
X). Uniac'ke and Lawrence O'Connor Doyle. The passage of 
the Bill places the Churchmen again where they should be, on 
an equality with other sects. 

March 21th, lSJf9. — Had a tea party last night. Guests: 
'The Hon. Staley Brown, Mr. Thos. A. Brown. Mr. and Mrs. 
Duffus, Mrs. Capt. McColl, Mr. McGregor, Miss Harriet 
Jones, Misses Catherine, Margaret and Helen Stairs. Had 
a ham and chickens. 

March 27th, 1849.— Oh, the canker worm of self! It 
gnaws into the heart, it destroys all happiness. The lust of 
avarice may excite, it can never satisfy. Give me its precious 
antidote — the love of my neighbour; let me take pleasure in 
his prosperit}'. and if I can attain to it, let me think of him 
more hicrhlv than of mvself. 

The tendency of business competition is such in this arti- 
ficial age as almost to swallow up the last remnant of 
" brotherly love." Business, to be successful, must be fol- 
lowed with the greatest energy; the industrious will over- 
come the idle, the sagacious will surpass the ill-judging. It 
does seem as if pre-eminence could only be attained at the 
expense of one's fellow traders. The big fishes eat up the 
little ones. Amidst all tliis it is well to remember the second 
and great commandment: "Love thy neighbour as thyself"; 
and if tlie tendencies of trade are such as to negative this 
good law, then '•■ look to it," amend your ways, or seek some 
path of life more congenial to the expansion of better prin- 
ciples. The cultivation of the soil, perhaps, more than any 
other occupation, affords the most wholesome medium of 
existence both for mind and bodv. 

Looking forward to the time of the centenary of arrival 
of Lord Cornwallis and the first settlers of this town. This 



is a most interesting period in the history of a country 
One hundred years ago^ probably a clear, sunny June morning 
our now cleared and settled harbour, placid and quiet in its 
primeval beauty, and the fair scene was enlivened by the 
arrival of the fleet that brought our fathers in search of a 
new home. 

Think of the Joy of that arrival^, after a passage across the 
waters of the Atlantic, then so unusual. Think of tlie hopes 
of men bold enough to leave civilization for such extended 
enterprise ! Think of the tear of the timid, the caution of 
the brave when they heard the yells of the savage; and 
remember they had, with watching and with war, to guard 
tlie infant commonwealth. 

One hundred years have rolled away, and we are com- 
memorating with joy and gladness, and with joyful jubilee 
this event. 

The hopes of that day have been realized in that a healthy, 
high-minded and virtuous people, the descendants of those 
men, are now scattered on the hills and valleys of Nova 
Scotia. Every hill and every valley will now answer to the 
acclamation of joy; the old men will reconsider and recount 
tlie stories of early days, of struggles in the wilderness, of 
the depths of the ancient snows, of the heat of bygone sum- 
mers, of the short incomes of blighted seasons, of laborious 
travel through pathless woods, of encounters with wild beasts, 
of tlie birth of their early children, of the distant absence of 
the public worship of God, of the early and venerable fathers 
with the G-ospel message, of the fathers Munro, Burton and 
others, then, now and ever to be respected by the people of 
this country. In the recollection of all these past events, 
calm and sanctified will be the minds of the fathers, and 
hopeful the thoughts of the children. 

Odoher IGtli, 1854. — Have not written in this book since 
1849. Visited England in 1851 and saw first industrial 


Children: — Jolm Fitzwilliam, Mary Anne, James Wise- 
man, Margaret Wiseman, Edward (now tlirce and a-lialf 
months old). 

Mary Anne has been very delicate. In the winter of 1S52 
to 1853 she was very severely afflicted with affection of the 
chest and lungs. Mrs. Sutherland kindly nursed her. This 
was just before IMargaret was born. 

The boys are gTowing finely and attending Miss 
McDougall's school. 

Have this summer visited England and France. Had 
the company of James B, Morrow. Saw my friend Mrs. 
Lang at Ardosian with the Barrys. 

This summer John Stairs married IMary Morrow. Robert 
Morrow married Helen Stairs. 

October lOih, lS5Jf. — Mrs. Henry Cunard has spent the 
summer in Halifax. Mr. Cunard is now here and they leave 
to-morrow morning for Miramichi. Susan Sutherland 
accompanies them on a winter visit. 

Miss Sarah and ]\Iis3 Eliza Buttrick have spent the sum- 
mer with Kate, two fine girls. 

Mr. Duff us hias purchased the ITniacke property. (£i,500.) 

The Industrial Exhibition is just concluded. The show 
was highly creditable, opened with a grand procession; on 
exliibitiou ten days and closed with eclat. 

Tile show of vegetables in the north tent was verv fine; 
they seen Kid to be all very sound, in no measure forced. The 
ladies' work from the country showed great industry and 
ingi'uuity. The people that produced the country work in 
woollen manufactures could do anything if they only had a 

The mechanics were behind; they had been very much 
occupied this summer, in fact, driven; they have great diffi- 
culty with workmen. All good workmen are so very inde- 
pendent they would sooner go to the United States, and some- 


times, like the fool, " fare worse " than submit to the disci- 
pline of a well-ordered workshop. 

During Exhibition week there were many highly instruc- 
tive lectures delivered, one by Mr. Joseph Howe on " Rural 
Economy," and by Messrs. Dawson and Eraser from Pictou. 

Have purchased from ]\Ir. Mott, " Eernwood Cottage," for 
£600. Hope to spend the summer there if all goes well. 

The railway will be completed to Sackville this year. 
Chief. Joseph Howe; engineer, James Eorman; and secretary, 
John Morrow. 

The canal is getting on prosperously. President, James 
F. Avery; directors, William Stairs, George Mitchell. 

"John Brown, or a Plain Man's Philosophy/' 
By Charles McKay. 

October IGth, ISoJ^. 

I've a crown I can spend, 

I've a wife, and a friend. 
And a troop of little children of my own. John Brown. 

I've a cottage of my own 

With the ivy overgrown. 
And a garden with a view of the sea, John Brown. 

I can sit at my door 

By my shady sycamore. 
Large of heart, tho' of very small estate, John Brown. 

So come drain a glass 

In my arbour as you pass, 
x\nd I'll tell you what I love and what I hate, John Brown. 

I love the song of birds, 

And the children's early words, 
And a loving woman's voice, low and sweet, John Brown. 

And I hate a false pretence, 

And a want of common sense, 
And arrogance and fawning and deceit, John Brown. 

I love the meadow flowers 

And the briar in the bowers. 
And I love an open face without guile, John Brown. 

And I hate a selfish knave, 

And a proud, contented slave. 
And a lout who'd rather borrow than he'd toil, John Brown. 


I love a simple song 

That awakes emotions strong, 
And the word of hope that raises him who faints, John Brown. 

And I hate the constant whine 

Of the foolish who repine. 
And turn the good and evil by complaints, John Bro\vn. 

But ever when I hate. 

If I seek the garden gate 
And survey the world around and alKtve, John Brown, 

The hatred flees my mind, 

And 1 8igh for human kind 
And excuse tlie faults of them I cannot love, John Brown. 

So if you take my ways 

And the comforts of my days, 
I can tell you how I live so unvexed. John Brown. 

I never scorn my health, 

Xor sell my soul for wealth, 
Xor destroy one day the pleasure of the next, John Bro^^'n. 

I've parted with my pride 

And I take the sunny side, 
For I've found it Avorse than folly to l>e sad, John Brown. 

I keep a conscience clear, 

I've a hundred poimds a year. 
And I manage to exist and be glad, John Bro■\\^l. 

Novcriiher 20th, lSo4. — About a T\"eek since, Johnny, re- 
turning from school, was nearly run over by a heavy loaded 
truck; the wheels had caught him upon the hip and so heavily 
to rub tlie coat he wore througli. A man passing seized the 
horse by the head and saved the cliild. Dr. Parker said had 
the wheel gone over him it would have killed him instantly. 

Visited the railway. They have about one-half mile of 
rails laid; everything seems to be progressing favourably. 

December 29tli, 1S5J/. — \Ya^ ploughing in Mr. Tobin's 

Had about a fortnight since adopted the plan of levying 
fines upon those who are absent from the breakfast room at 
one-half past eight o'clock; find it answered very well. 

January 2nd, ISoo. — Mrs. Harris has a boy, born this 


Accompanied Willie and Johnny skating. It was John- 
nie's first attempt on the ice except twice in our own yard ; it 
was the pond in property near to the Grove, the same pond 
as Willie made his first attempt three years since, called by 
mamma the "Firefly Pond." 

New Year's day was a fine, clear, dry day, no snow on the 
ground. Went visiting. 

On the day before Christmas, Mamma, Willie and Johnny 
went to the Poor House to see a little boy who was lying very 
low from having had his leg taken off; his name was Charlie 
Eice, from Prince Edward Island. 

Had a family dinner party on Christmas Day; present, 
Alfred and Margaret Jones, Ilobert and Helen Morrow, Mr. 
Morrow and James Morrow, and Willie, Johnnie, Mary Anne, 
G. Troop and Maggie. 

January 19, 1855. — A heavy gale of wind from the south- 
east; the tide swept over the wharves. 

January 20tli, ISoo. — The public had a ride in the rail- 
way cars to-day for the first time. A great many people 
collected at the railway terminus to see the first start. The 
cars made two trips filled vrith passengers; they went as far 
as the Three Mile House. 

Bessie Harris died on the evening of Friday, the 18th. 
Her married life had extended for one year, to die the day 
and hour twelve months after her marriage. Her child, called 
John Duffus Harris, is well. 

January 22nd. — Followed her to-day to the grave. 

January 23rd, 1855. — Edward is now six months and a 
few days old. He is in capital condition, hearty and fat; but 
how he does squall at nights ! He seldom allows his mother 
to get to bed before half-past tn-elve, and often cries for two 
hours after that. It tries her strength very much. He is a 


child who takes very little sleep or rest, and promises to be a 
most energetic fellow. 

January 29tli, 1855. — Jolmnie Duffus died this day of 
scarlet fever. 

'Fehruary Gth, 1S55. — Took a first ride in the railway cars 
this day as far as Davy's. Was very much pleased with 
tlie cars. Prefer the American style of cars to tlie English 
first-class carriage. 

February 7th, 1855. — Last night was very cold ; the ther- 
mometer read 22 and 24 degrees below zero, and has con- 
tinued very cold. 

February Sth . lS55.—0n the night of the 7th the ther- 
mometer read IG degrees below zero, and at seven o'clock this 
morning experienced a shock of eartliquake. Have since 
learned that this was felt at Windsor. 

Fcbrruiry IGth, 1S55. — Have been much interested in tJie 
question of selling the South Common to raise funds for 
building a City Hospital. The Corporation have petitioned 
the Legislature for a law to enable them to sell this Common, 
which, should they succeed, I shall very much regret. ]\Ir. 
Arch. Scott has l^een canvassing the town ^\'ith• a petition 
against such sak-. 

The House of Assembly is now in session. It is probable 
they will pas'^ the Elaine Liquor Law. I sincerely trust they 
will not find this l;;w will have a tendency to violate the in- 
tegrity of our people. 1 am afraid that the huv will be very 
much evaded. I'lie evasion of any law T hold to have a 
demoralizing effect upon a nation. In the early days of the 
United States, in the State of Connecticut, it was the fashion 
to make laws to regulate the morals of the people; trivial 
deviations from strict religious practice were punishable by 
the civil law; all magistrates must t)e zealous professors of 
religion. The consequence was tbat a system of hypocrisy 


was introduced which blasted true godliness, and the trutlif iil 
habits of a simple people were displaced by a refinement of 
artful cunning and knavery which has become national and 
proverbial. Palpable deceit and arrant roguery are with 
them called sharp practice; keen trading whose only disgrace 
is in being outwitted by that which is still sharper and more 
keen. I much fear for our Nova Scotia trade morals; our 
revenue laws, so much evaded, have a very demoralizing 
ejffect. Tills Maine Law will be bad, and the frequent inter- 
course with the small towns east in the United States will, I 
fear, tend to make us like our Yankee neighbours. The only 
antidote to this end is Education, the Bible Schools and the 
Pulpit. We should also promulgate the very obvious truism 
that " Honesty is the best policy." We must hope to 
teach our traders, petty as vvell as larger, the force and value 
of the dogma. Ralph WaJdo Emerson, in a lecture tx) the 
men of iSTcw York, assumed, so great was his idea of the 
value of honesty, that if it had not been taught, it would have 
been invented, for the purpose of carrying on trade. 

February 16th, 1855. — At an auction sale this day, flour 
was withdrawn at 52s. 9d. per barrel. 

March 20th, 1855. — Married, James B. Morrow to 
Matilda Ritchie. 

March 21st, 1855. — Bought a mare from James Greig; 
price £23 10s. Seven years old. 

Jmie 1st, 1855. — Moved this day to Fernwood. 

July 10th, 1855. — Margaret Morrow married to George 
Troop. Had a pleasant and happy marriage party. Spent 
a happy summer at Fernwood and returned to town on first 
of November. 

February 29th, 1850. — George born. 


April 25th, 1S56. — Winter of 1855 and 1856 has been 
very steady. Snow remained on tlie ground from 1st January 
until 1st April. 

Anna and Jolm Duffus married. 

April 29th, 1S56. — On the 23rd inst., Susan and baby, 
Willie and Mar3\ Sister Kate, ]\Irs. William Duffus sailed on 
the Arabia for Boston, on a visit to the South to visit Susan 
and Polly. Susan has been suffering for five months from 
a sore throat. ]\Iary been delicate. Willie has also been 
delicate. Kate kindly urged that she should take Willie and 
Susan, then decided to seek relief in the same journey South. 
God grant they may be safely kept and come ])ack restored. 

March, 1S57. — On Monday, the 2nd day of March, opened 
the " Old Corner "' hardware store, in charge of Theodore 
Tapper, who visited England last summer to select the stock 
of goods. Kobert Eomans, bookkeeper; James Mainland, 
clerk, from the Orkneys, seems a good hand. 

Have also this year past been serving as a director in the 
United Fire Insurance Company of Lincoln. Have learnt 
by experience tliat it is I^est not to have to do witli public 
affairs or public companies, and I hope to keep this in mind. 
What energies I have will be best employed at my own busi- 
ness, and for change of employment and recreation I will 
grow strawberries at Fernwood. 

A wholesome amount of public spirit is desirable, and I 
trust not to be indifferent because I have made a mark against 
public services. I only dislike public service because of the 
want of sincerity and devotedness I meet with among my 

On the first of October, 1855, was elected an 
Alderman of the City of Halifax, and have since served with 
as close application as any of the aldermen. Find it requires 
too much of my time, and intend to retire at the end of the 
Municipal year. Council at present: — Archibald Scott, 


Mayor. Ward No. 1 — William G. Anderson, myself, Pat 
Donohoe. Ward 'No. 2 — John W. Young, Samuel Caldwell, 
Mat. Lownds. Ward No. 3 — Joseph Bell, James Cochran, 
Peter Morrisey. Ward No. 4 — Peter Ross, John Mills, 
Thomas King. Ward No. 5 — Wm. McKay, Jeremiah Con- 
way, J. L. Barry. Ward No. 6 — John King, John Longard, 
Joseph Jennings. 

It would give me great pleasure to work with earnest and 
truthful men. 

December, 1S51. — Spent the summer at Fernwood. 

Ethel born March 26th, is now a fine healthy baby. Has 
the whooping-cough, fortunately but lightly. 

Charles Kidston brought his young wife to see us on their 
marriage tour this summer. 

Finished clearing the field at Fernwood. Had sufficient 
potatoes to last until we moved over to town, 31st of October. 
Bought a pony named " Plantagenet." 

A money crisis arose about October in the United States, 
and has since been very severe in England. Speculation in 
sugar and molasses has been the cause of great loss in Halifax 
this year. Cargoes of molasses were sold as high as 2s. lOd. 
gal., and are now on hand worth not over l^s. per gal. The 
losses in Halifax are perhaps not less than £80,000. 

Died at Kurrachee, July Gth, 1857, William D. Morrow, 
of cholera. He had been with his battalion of artillery upon 
the Persian Gulf, and was returning to the scene of the 
Indian rebellion, when he met his death. 

January 7tli, 185S. — Mrs. Duff us (mother's grandmother) 
aged 86 years, died. 

February '2nd, 1S5S. — Plantagenet made his first appear- 
ance in harness this day. The roads were very icy. He 
went along quite steadily. The harness was too large for 
him; he looked like a boy in a man's coat. 


March 25th, 1S5S. — When 1 hist wrote in this book, Ethel 
was a fine healtliy baby, but slightly afflicted with wiioopiug- 
cougli. I have now to write that Ethel died on tlie 23rd of 
March at twenty minutes past seven o'clock in the evening. 
We have uovv^ just returned from laying her body in the grave. 
She had a cold which turned into congestion of the lungs. 
Her severe illness lasted four or five days. She suffered 
much from the elrects (jf being blistered and from mustard 

In her death she was very lovely. She was tlie promise 
of a fine child, as healthy and as fine of form as any of the 
seven children vrho were born before Her forehead was 
broad and high, her smile so sweet, and disposition, so far as 
her age had developed it, was not less amiable than the most 
favoured of lier brothers and sisters. And now she has died, 
pure and sinless. We will write she gave promise to excel 
them all in womanly proportions and character. 

^\^^en she v/as laid out f(^r burial slie looked a.s pure a 
creature as creature could look. An hour before we left the 
hous^ for the grave we took the cotiin to dear mother's bed- 
side, for she was lying very weak, and then our dear mother 
took her last look of our dear cliild. All lier brothers and 
sisters — Willie, Johnny, Mary, Susie, Maggie, Edward, 
George, were there. And each looked long at our sweet Ethel, 
so pure and lovely, like a waxwork. Her little white and spot- 
less coffui, strewed v/ith sweet flowers, the name, and date and 

ExiiCL Sta;:;-. 

Died :\rarch 2:]v(\. 1858, 

Aged I'i months. 

Each kissed the cold brow, and forever in this world bade 
farewell, and truly to CJod each that knew of God and death 
earnestly committed her. I have written " God and death," 
but it was also to God and Jesus Christ and eternal life. 
When we die we will go to her. She is the first of our family; 


an imiocent pioneer. The nine who were around her coffin 
will join her each by each; none but God knoweth who will 
be the first and who the last. God grant that we may so 
live that when we die we may be received as this lamb has 
been, into the bosom of Jesus. 

Dear children, never forgot this precious sister. On the 
day of her birth, 36th of March, and on the day of her deatli 
from the world and birth to heaven, 23rd of March, remember 
her, for her own sake, for her mother's sake and for my sake. 

Our dear mother lias been very low, but is now, " praise be 
to God," getting better. While sweet Ethel was ill, dear 
mother could not nurse her, but she was very tenderly cared 
for. ]\Iary Keefe and Mrs. Mackintosh nursed her. Mrs. 
Wm. Duffus and j\Irs. Sutherland each took kindlv charge of 
her, and Auntie Kate rocked her upon her knee like a father's 
sister. Mrs. Sutherland was with us when she died. She 
died in mother's arms. Mother upon the sofa, and Willie, 
Johnnie, Jiinmie and father with her. ]^Iary, Maggie, 
Edward and George had been put to bed. 

"\^^^en she had breathed her last we wh*^ were there all 
kissed her little limbs, which remained quite warm. 

Edward was at one time of Ethel's illness, seeminglv the 
most ill of the two. Now, " praise be to God," he is much 

Mrs. John Duff us, with great Ctsre and kindness, dressed 
the body. Grandfather Stairs and Grandfather Morrow 
walked together at the funeral. Uncle Robert and James 
Morrow^ Uncles John Stairs and John Duffus, Alfred Jones 
and George Troop, and Mr. Sutherland, and the elder Uncle 
John Duffus and Mr. Grant. The people from the store all 
followed to the grave. 

It is a great bereavement, but God's will be done, and 
that He will lead us to improve this trial and spare us from 
trials greater than we can bear, is tlie prayer of your father. 

On the day of Ethel's death, Aunt Maggie Troop had a 
daughter, and is now doing Tfell. 


March 23rd, 1S59. — Just one year has transpired since 
sweet Ethel's death, and nothing has been transcribed by me 
in this book. 

Two days ago a little son was born at 3 o'clock p.m. Dear 
mother is now lying in bed, and George had an attack of 
scarlet fever. Mary Keefe is nursing George. William, 
Johnnie and Jim are staying at Aunt Kate's. Mary Anne 
and ^Ma^jgie are at Miss Foster's, and Edward is the onlv one 
at large in the house, and will, I hope, escape the fever, and 
I hope mamma will soon be well. During the year past that 
I have not written anything in this book, we, that is our 
family, have been very well. 

January Otli, ISGO. — The little son mentioned on the last 
page has been called Herbert, and is now a fine fellow. 

Spent the last summer at Fernwood. All were well and 
enjoyed it very much. Took all hands on a picnic to Porter's 
Lake. Willie drove the mare down to the lake and Johnnie 
drove home. I drove pony. Had in our party Uncle 
George, Aunt ]\[aggie and Harry Troop. Of ourselves were 
myself, mamma, Willie, Johnnie, Mary, Jim, Maggie, Ned, 
George, Herbert and Kate Eagan. The day was very pleas- 
ant for travelling, clouds, and no hot sunshine. It was straw- 
berry time. We had our picnic in the woods and then a good 
feast of fine strawberries at Ormond's. It was very pleasant 
playing beside the lake. ^Mr. Ormond gathered some water 
lillies. x\unt Kate and Uncle John and Anna Duffus and 
Willie were at Musquodoboit and returned the same day that 
we were at the lake, being behind us almost all the way home. 

Willie and Johnnie, during their holidays, went to Fal- 
mouth and stayed partly with ^Ix. Smith's family and partly 
with Mr. Palmer's. Willie learned to swim, for which he 
received nothing. 

Juhj 2Gth, 1S59. — Bought Mrs. Uniacke's house and the 
lot opposite, £3,550, lot £400; total £2,950. Moved 


into this house on September 30th; have found it very com- 


Early in September, 1859, had a heavy fire on Granville 
street. Loss of property about £200,000, of which about 
£110,000 was secured from English insurance companies. 

In the Spring of 1859 joined in communion with Mr. 
j\IacGregor s Church, with whom and his church officers and 
members I have been much pleased. Before this had several 
interviews and arguments witli Mr. MacGregor respecting 
baptisiii, my ideas of which are set forth in some memoranda 
which will be found not far from this book. 

The blessing and happiness attending the right observ- 
ance of communion with Christ and His Church cannot be 
written. The enjo^inent of the love of God, and love towards 
our follow men, is nothing less than the reversion of Adam's 
doom. We were dead with him ; we are alive again in Christ. 

Mother had united with the Church the year before. 

January, ISGO. — On last Christmas evening, or rather the 
evening of Monday the 26th, we had a family party. Uncles 
and aunts, Mrs. Sta}'ner and her sons. Willie was in his bed 
with measles. Aunt Maggie and Uncle Alfred Jones are in 
the United States on a visit to Savannah and New Orleans. 

This day, January 9th, has been generally observed as a 
day of humiliation and prayer, with especial reference and 
earnest prayer for the outpouring of God's Holy Spirit for 
the enlargement of His kingdom. This week is to be so kept. 
This is in consequence of a call from the East Indian churches 
in all parts of the world, and is being very generally re- 
sponded to. TN^ien the week is past and news received from 
other parts, I may have something more to add. 

April 18th, 1S60. — From the above written paragraph it 
will be seen that Willie has had the measles, from which he 


gradually recovered and seemed pretty well, when on a Satur- 
day in March, it being a holiday, he went to Dartmouth upon 
the pon}'. It turned out after he left to be a cold, damp day, 
and he stayed some time with Prescott Johnstone. During 
this excursion he must have caught cold, for the next day 
he had a heavy cold with a severe cough. On Wednesday I 
noticed a twitchina: or conNTilsive movement of the hands, 
which awakened my suspicions that he might have an attack 
of St. Vitus' Dance, and on Thursday we called in Dr. 

On T]uirsday night he scarcely slept any, and his limbs 
v.-ere spasmodically in motion. On Friday night scarcely 
slept, his mother both these nights sitting up very late with 
him. On Saturday lie took to his Ijed and the muscular 
motions were very violent, and so tliey continued, resisting 
all medicine for l-t days. From this first-mentioned Thurs- 
day, Doctor Almon was called in to consult with Dr. Parker; 
he had to be watched at liis bedside day and night to keep 
the bedclothes from l)eing thrown off bv the incessant tossing 
of his arms and legs. It was only when sleep visited his 
eyes that these motions ceased. For the first ten days of the 
disease his appetite vras good, eating probably more than he 
would have taken had he been well. At the first of his illness 
the doctor tried to produce sleep by administering opiates, 
but these failed ; even chloroform was ineffectual, and they 
were abandoned and nature allowed to liave her own way. 
On Tuesda}', ten da3's after his being seized with unrest, sleep 
came, seven hours in the day and five hours in tlie night. 
This raised our hopes, and we expected soon to mark his 
recovery. But not so; on Wednesday he was seemingly 
quieter; certainly he was very gentle and loving this day, 
often asking his mother to kiss him, and in the early part of 
the day to say for him his prayers. She had been in the 
habit of repeating his ])rayer3 for him, in the evening, since 
his powers of articulation had been impaired by the disease. 
His subdued tone this day (for he could get out his words in 


jerks and short sentences), was the forerunner of his death; 
it must have been instinct that told him. 

About three o'clock on Wednesday, a new symptom showed 
itself in a gathering of phlegm in his throat, and when I saw 
him at five o'clock in the evening suffering from this new 
feature of the disease, and the throat becoming contracted 
by a swelling which had first shown itself upon the outside 
of his throat, produced by the incessant rubbing of the parts, 
your mother and I became alarmed, and for the first time 
thought he would not live. I went to Dr. Parker and told 
him my fears, and he and Dr. Almon came and most 
thoroughly eixamined all the symptoms about his throat and 
chest, and still did not think but that he would survive. His 
mother had been most steadily fomenting his throat and chest. 

This night (Wednesday) was a most critical time, and 
Mrs. William Duffus kindly volunteered to sit up with him, 
in company witl] Edward Stayner. They watched him 
through the night. He slept some four hours, but at waking 
moments was so low that Mrs. Dufi^us thought he would die. 
When his mother and I saw him at eight o'clock on Thurs- 
day morning, we saw too clearly that he would not last long, 
and at 9 o'clock I went and told what we thought to his 
Grandfather Stairs and Aunt Kate. Now fairly begins his 
dying day. 

His mother was at his bedside at 9 o'clock, and the hours 
seemed to slide fearfully fast away. She said his prayers for 
him and sung such liymns as she thought would comfort him. 
When I returned from seeing his grandfather and Aunt Kate, 
I knelt at his bedside and offered up a prayer that our dear 
boy might recover, or better still, be prepared by God's Holy 
Spirit for the great change from this world to eternal life 
through Christ Jesus. When I turned from the bedside he 
asked his mother: "Does Pa think I am dying?" She said 
we could not tell, that God would do as best pleased Himself. 
He then, in broken sentences, said : " Ma, ]\Ir. MacGregor 
send." " "Wliat for, my son ?" " He will pray for me." Mr. 


MacGregor did not reach liini for some time. Meanwhile 
Uncle James Morrow came in and offered prayer at his bed- 
side. When Mr. MacGregor came he read to him and spoke 
kind words of comfort, and when he would cease Willie would 
say, " More !" thirsty, as it were, for God's words and pro- 
mises. During all the time his eye was bright and senses 
keen and speech very imperfect. About half-past one he 
ceased to be able to speak, fast growing weaker. All his rela- 
tives had ])een to see him and were mostly around him : his 
two grandfathers, liis Aunt Kate, Margaret, Helen, Anna, his 
aunts Mrs. Sutherland and Mrs. John Duffus, Mrs. Wm. 
Duffus, Mrs. Henry, his uncles John, Alfred, George, Eobert 
and James, Charles, Edward Stayner; all very much moved 
and touched by the sight of our dying boy. His bright eyes 
now looked very beautiful, but about 4 o'clock they lost the 
power of moving. Their last motion was towards his mother, 
who had been lying watching him for some hours. Then 
came the set, immovable gaze, each breath coming with great 
effort, and now and then a lull of some seconds, until at seven 
minutes past 5 o'clock in the afternoon of Thursday, the 12th 
of April, 1860, Willie breathed his last most gently, without 
any death struggle, only a quiver of the lips and small move- 
ment of the hands. 

During all his illness he had said he suffered no pain. On 
the morning of Ms death he said, after asking his mother if 
I thought him dying, that he never felt better in his life. We 
should thank God that although his illness was outwardly so 
distressing, yet inwardly it was not so. 

The doctors now say that his complaint was a disease of 
the spine, and they are no doubt right, for he had grown very 
tall, being, wlicn measured for his coffin, 5 feet 7 inches, and 
only 14 years old in January. 

His most kind nurses were: Mrs. Sutherland, Mrs. John 
Duft'us, Mrs. William Duff"iis, his Aunt Kate, Uncle Eobert, 
Charles and Edward Stayner, who each; sat up with him. On 


the Monday before he died we obtained the assistance of a pro- 
fessional nurse, Eliza Campbell, from Windsor, who was a 
very kind and usefvil person, and whom Willie said he liked; 
otherwise 3'our dear mother, who was the most constant nurse 
of all, would have been worn out. 

Aunts Mary, Maggie and Anna were not strong enough to 
help nurse. The servants were all very kind. 

Wlien I used formerly to write in this journal, I used to 
think of Willie reading it, and it perhaps recalling to his 
mind things which are all past and gone, he knowing and 
saying "These were my father's views." Xow I write only 
for such of my sons and daughters as may outlive myself. I 
also write these notes to fix dates and facts, which if I live 
to be an old man, or your dear mother lives to be an old 
woman, will in our later years help our memories. 

Pleasant remembrances are the solace of old age when 
that time comes to us. The eternal future will be the only 
reality to as; to the past we will revert as tlie young dwell 
upon the hopes of the future. 

Our dear Willie died on Thursday, the 12th April, 1860, 
at seven minutes past 5 o'clock afternoon. We laid his head 
in peace and rest upon his pillow, and left to others the last 
sad offices. Then vre alone sat and mourned the death of our 
first-born son. None but a father and mother's heart can 
judge the agony of such a moment. God in His wisdom 
stuns; we could not bear the full weight of such a loss; but 
we were not without comfort if we were somewhat stunned 
by our loss; we were never left without a clear appreciation 
of the redemption from the world of sin and sorrow to eternal 
glory in and through the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, 
which had been realized by our dear son, your eldest brother. 

That our boy was a dweller in the land of light and glory 
was as clear to us as if prophetic vision had declared it so. 

When our dear Willie's body was so it could be moved, it 
was carried downstairs and laid out upon the bed in the back 


bedroom. I was diaappoiuted that it was carried down by 
anyone but myself, but so it was while your mother and I sat 
by, mourning with our great sorrow. 

Soon came the hour for bed. We did not have an3'one 
sitting up with the body, as is sometimes the case, l)ut all 
returned as of old to their own places. Willie had died on 
our bed. I lay me down where he had died. G-od sent as 
sleep until morning, when we again arose to resmne our 

Friday was a cool day. On Friday evening we placed the 
body in the coffin. Saturday was cold, and on Sunday it 
was so cold that it froze some flowers that were in the room 
with the ])ody. This cold weather enabled us to keep the 
coffin open, and but little change came over the corpse before 
it was covered up on the morning of the funeral. 

Monday morning, 16th April, was a beautifully fine day, 
and rather warm and pleasant. After the cold day we had 
had, it was very pleasing to have a fine day for the funeral. 
We were all up early in the morning. Willie looked very 
sweet and calm; a solemn grave and wise-like cast was on his 
countenance, such as an ancient sculptor might have carved 
for Wisdom's form and features. At half-past nine o'clock 
we and all our friends were gathered together. Then came 
to us all that' last look at these wasting remains, and forever 
was closed the body of our greatly beloved from our sight and 
eartldy knowledge. 

Johnny and Jim walked with me to the grave. Next 
came the two grandfathers, then uncles, cousins, friends and 
neighbours, shop boys and school fellows, Mr. Gilpin's school, 
the boys from Dalhousie College, l)oys from Sunday School 
and neighbours' boys, all flocked to Willie's funeral, some 
forty boys; all had come in to have a last look. Many a tear 
fell from these boys, and in the graveyard many a sob told 
how they loved him. 

Our neighbours' carriages followed in procession, and all 
proclaimed that both love and respect followed to his grave. 


Mr. MacGregor prayed at the house, and made an address 
at the grave, where he spoke to the boys of Willie's many 
virtues and withal "manly"; these were Ms words when he 
spoke of Willie's character and bearing. God grant that his 
death may call many a boy to think of d}dng and of the only 

At the grave his grandfathers, men of 65 and 71 years, 
wept with many tears, for they had both lost their first and 
chiefest child of the second generation. No tear softened 
your father's eye. His heart had been struck by a storm 
without rain; tears would come at times, but only at gentler 

Mr. McXutt, an old friend of your mother, followed Mr. 
MacGregor with prayer. 

The grave is closed and we return to our homes. Now 
the place that knew him once shall know him no more for- 
ever. His place is empty. We do not sorrow without hope; 
tears flow in memorv of our dear boy, but sunshine will again 
come; other duties and other sympathies claim our hearts. 
How can we sing "Praises to God," singing of the salvation 
which Christ has earned for all men, with hearts other than 
hearts of joy ? This will be our comfort and our consolation. 
We are different, a great change has passed over us, that ful- 
ness of hope and joy in life and family and prospects is less- 
ened and subdued. God willed it so, and He knows best 
what is for our good. that He will help us to profit by 
His lessons. 

You all know that we have some fine pictures of Willie. 
Wlien he was 13 and one-half years old, his Aunt Kate was 
so kind and loving as to wish to have his likeness and 
Johnnie's taken, and so she did by Mr. Chase, in ambrotype. 
At the same time I was so much pleased with Mr. Chase's 
desire to secure a good likeness, that I had one taken for 
ourselves. After Willie's death I had this picture in ambro- 
type worked up by Mr. Chase to a photograph, which is the 


picture now hanging up in the library. It was sent by Mr. 
Chase to Boston, to He}'wood, to be worked in Indian ink. 
We and all our family are much pleased with the finished 

I could write a great deal about our dear Willie. His 
fondness for Latin was extraorduiary. He began to study 
with !Mr. Gilpin, who was an excellent teacher of the classics. 
He used to say, " Oli. mother, how I do like this Latin !" 

At an examination at Dalhousie College, Mr. Forrester, 
examining him, found his answers so freely and easily given, 
that he was surprised. He said aside to Mr. Garvie : '"' I must 
puzzle this fellow,"' and then asked him some more difficult 
questions in construction of the language. To his surprise 
Willie answered at once. Mr. Forrester turned aside to Mr. 
Garvie saying he did not think there was a boy in Xova 
Scotia who could have done so. Willie did not mention this 
at home, if indeed he knew he had done am-thing of note. 
Mr. Garvie told your L^ncle Eobert after AVillie's death. We 
cannot say if this brightness of intellect was sign of disease, 
as if the mind's work overtaxed the body. This I know, we 
always rather repressed Willie's studies than pushed them 
with anv foolish idea of his being a r)rodigv. 

A great deal we have felt and experienced I have not 
written, for the shades of thought and feeling upon such an 
event could not be described, and if attempted would le 
too voluminous. One consolation we have had is that in our 
sorrow we have had many prayers offered on our l^ehalf at 
the Throne of Grace. Eemember, dear children, in all cases 
of mourning or sorrow to pray one for the other, and in this 
let none be to you as strangers, but pray to God to visit all 
sick persons and those who mourn the loss of near and dear 
friends. Jesus Christ, when He lived here, was not unmind- 
ful of His friends who were in sorrow, as He sorrowed vnth 
them; so we believe He will with us, and He has promised 
to send the Comforter to us ; and although the Comforter, the 


Holy Spirit, will be always our strength, yet we have a right 
to think He will be nearer still in the hours of our trials. 

Closing these notes relating to our dear Willie, who is now 
in Heaven singing praises to God and to the Lamb, and who 
will so sing and praise for ever and ever, I only hope and 
pray that all our memories may be as sweet as his, and tliat 
God may grant us in our last moments the peaceful and easy 
death which was his. 

That God bless you and keeg you all is the prayer of 

Your Affectionate Father. 
June 24th, 1860. 



By Mrs. Benjamin Salter. 
" A Mother's Prayer." 

Oh heart be still, 
Sly Father calk my lamb, my firat-born; 
Though in deep sorrow I must mourn. 

It is His will. 

In Thy sight 
I kneel before Thee, speechless, dumb; 
All thought, all feeling, paralyzed and numb; 

No ray of light. 

This parting sore, 
How wearisome each day appears ; 
Each night but witnesses more bitter tears; 

My cup runs o'er. 

In my distress 
From the deep waters of affliction learn 
To Tliee alone my hea\-y heart must turn; 

Then bending low 

I pray, 
Oh Lord, resigned to look to Thee. 
Bring me in deep humility 

Unto Thy way. 

From al)Ove 
Hear, Oh! my Father, my unspoken vow 
Unto Tliy chastening rod to meekly bow; 

It is in love. 

So rest 
In faith, my darling to behold, 
Standing in spotless robes, enrolled 

Among the blest. 

His place to fill. 
Within the pearl gates of his Heavenly home; 
No pain, no sorrow there can ever come; 

Then heart be still. 

April 16th, 1860. (Copiei from the " Morning Journal and Cam- 
meroial Advertiser.") 


The summer of 1860 we stayed in town. 
The Prince of Wales, accompanied by the Duke of New- 
castle and Earl Germain, visited Halifax and the Pro\'inces 
and tlie United States this summer. 

Catherine was born 31st August, this year, 1860. 
Lewis Grant Morrow was born a dav or so before Christ- 


In the Spring of 1861 visited the United States in com- 
pany with Dr. Parker and John; returned in May, ha\'ing 
taken a very severe cold in N'ew York, which took nearly all 
summer to wear away. 

Moved to Fernwood on the 21st June, and returned about 
26th August. We all had a very pleasant time over there. 
Gilbert Sutherland stayed some time with us. Jimmie ac- 
companied his Aunt j\Iaggie Troop to Bridgetown, August 
29th. He has not yet returned. 

Bought a horse from Tim Archibald, and he has been 
called " Bones." Price £30. Fanny showed a bad spavin 
this spring. Pony is doing well; since sold for £14. 

This spring (1861) Alfred Jones and John Stairs each 
bought a piece of land on the Arm side, and are now building. 

James Duffus married to Kate Pryor in Juno. 

Aunt Anna spent last winter at for her health, 

and has been this sununer at Pine Grove. 

John and Jim have been for some time at Mr. Wood's 

August 29th. — i\Iary is looking well and so are the chil- 

August 29th, 1861. — Picked to-day three barrels of Sum- 
mer Pears. Have had large dormer windows put in tlie 
chambers upstairs, and had the southern roof shingled and 
the house all around painted, and a coat put on the stable. 


A day or so ago Frank Kinnear had his head singed from 
going near a gas light after having put some inflammable 
stuff upon liis head. 

In Juno, Susan Sutherland went to England, and on her 
arrival there was married to Mr. Bushnell. 

Augmt 29th, 1 SGI. —At half -past eight o'clock this even- 
ing, Lewis Grant Morrow breatlied his last after a week's 
illness; 8 months old. About 10 days ago he was over at 
Fernwood with his mother, quite liearty. This is the first 
death in our family since Willie's. God bless his dear 


Febrmry 21st, 18G2.—DiQA this day at half-past two 
o'clock p.m., Grandfather Morrow. Three days ago he was 
seized with paralysis and never spoke after the first of the 
attack. He was living at Mrs. Darby's, on Brunswick street, 
when he died. His sons Robert and James were present, and 
Aunty Maggie and Mrs. Sutherland. Just before his death 
he looked earnestly at them all, but could not speak ; his looks 
were his only farewell. Our dear mother, who had watched 
him and nursed him all the previous night, had left the house 
for only a few minutes before he died. He was 67 years of 

Grandfather Stairs had a verj serious attack of sickness 
a few days ago (February 21st) ; he was seized with some- 
thing in the night, and it was four or five hours before he 
was known to te sick; he was unable to make Aunt Kate 
hear. He is now better, having been at the store to-day. 

Gavin Lang, born 21st September, 1861, is now doing 
well. Uncle Stairs went to England about middle of January 
for his health;. He complained of a bad sore throat. The 
doctor called his disease goitre. Returned somewhat better. 

About the 1st of September, 1862, parted with our old 
mare Fanny; had her about seven years. We exchanged her 
■with a Mr. Maxner, of Windsor, for a young brown horse 


called "Tom Brown." Much disappointed that Mr. Max- 
ner did not take Fanny to the country for a brood mare, but 
sold her to Casey, and she is now on the cab stand. 

November 20th, 18G5. — It is now over three years since I 
have written anything in this book. The great event of his- 
tory since then has been the American Civil Wiir, the 
great result of which is the " freedom of the slave." Through- 
out the war, which lasted four years, I felt much sympathy 
for the South. Although I mistrusted them as regards the 
question of slaver}', I felt that so great was the dissension 
between North and South, it could not end without the slaves 
being freed. During the war the slaves were very loyal to 
the South, and the South made a great error in not recog- 
nizing it, making the slaves free and taking them into their 
armies, as I believe this great General, General Lee, 
wished, but was overruled by men who, like Pharaoli of old, 
would not let the people go. The South went to war to gain 
their entire independence, as regards slavery, of the will of 
the North, but what they had was taken from them. T'hey 
who would be independent, became dependent. The freeman 
became a slave and the slave became a free man. This was 
God's will. He reversed the will of the South. The North 
was the instrument in God's hand, not the instrument of 
good and holy temper, but a new instance of how God makes 
the wrath of man to praise Him. 

I believe a happier future awaits the now unhappy South. 
The path they were in led only further from light and truth 
and love; the path they are now upon leads forward to peace 
and prosperity, at least among themselves. Should a war 
again result between them and the North, they, the South, 
will gain, fighting for true liberty which was denied them 
when the liberty they wanted was only the unrestrained 
indulijence of their own wills. 

There were a great many good, pious, praying people in 
the South. They would feel aggrieved if, when they had 


joined the armies prayerfully and with entire self-devotion of 
life and property, they thought themselves charged with, self- 
will at the expense of truth and love. But it is with the great 
ruling principle we have to do, and so as I have judged I 
believe history will judge, and so I believe by tlie result God 
has judged. 

Among these good Southern people we reckon Captain 
Barny, Commodore Barron, Captain Pegrim, who spent the 
summer of 1865 in Halifax. Captain Barny staying with us, 
Avhoju my children, from Katie upwards, will well remember. 


The summer of 1863 we altered the house, taking away 
the back part and making a large addition, which cost about 

Joanna was born on December 30th, 1862, and died on 
May 31st, 1863. She was a sweet little ,uirl, nmch like Ethel. 
She died at Fernwood, worn out with wliooping cough. 


In the Spring of 186-4, your mother and I, leaving in 
April, visited England and passed <>n to the Continent, spend- 
ing with, much pleasure our time in visiting friends and in a 
tour through France and Switzerland, renewing our acquaint- 
ance with good old ]\Ir. Kidston, ]\Ir8. Lang, Susan Bushnell 
and their families. This part of our visit repaid us all the 
care and troulde and expense of leaving hoiue. With France 
and Switzerland we were much delighted. 

In the Fall of 1864 certain delegations from the Govern- 
ments of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick met at Charlotte- 
town, P. E. ]., to discuss a union of the Maritime Provinces. 
They were joined by a delegation from Canada, and the dis- 
cussion of the uniim of tlie ]\Iaritinie Provinces was hiid 
aside to take up gratuitously the discussion of the Confeder- 
ation of the Britisli North American Provinces. The united 
delegates adjourned to Halifax, where they were publicly 


entertained^ and the public sentiment favoured the idea of 
discussing the principle more seriously. This led to a meet- 
ing for the purpose at Quebec, which is known as the " Quebec 
Convention," and the resolutions there passed are known as 
the " Quebec Scheme." When the Xova Scotia delegates, Dr. 
Tupper, Adams Archibald, Jonathan McCully, Wm. A. Henry 
and Barry Dickie returned to Nova Scotia, they, mistaking 
public opinion and their position towards the public, were 
so elated with their share in the " scheme," that they under- 
took to pronounce for Nova Scotia her approval of Confeder- 
ation; Dr. Tupper, as head leader of the Government party, 
and Adams Archibald and Jonathan McCully, as leaders of 
the Opposition and tlie old Liberal party, each undertaking 
to decide for those whom they fancied they could lead. 

The delegates, through their friends, called a public 
meeting at Temperance Hall, where they spent the evening 
in giving what they considered very conclusive arguments for 
adopting Confederation; the throe speakers, speaking in 
succession, and no word being uttered by those who claimed 
to be " Let Alones." A good deal of dissatisfaction was 
expressed at the imperious manner of the delegates; they 
knew of no pul)lic men who would oppose them. Mr. Annand 
was believed to be of different views, but the Morning 
Chronicle was in the hands of Mr. McCully. Mr. Miller was 
but little known in Halifax; they reckoned on small oppo- 
sition from him. The merchants who talked against their 
views, they defied as buttonhole orators. They were, taking 
it altogether, very arrogant. 

Tlie Citizen, a new paper, edited by Edward McDonald 
and Garvie, was the only newspaper in town that wrote 
against Confederation. 

Under the leadership of Andrew Uniacke, an opposition 
was organized, and a night at Temperance Hall was named 
by the Mayor to give the opposition an opportunity to state 
their case. At preliminary meetings it was agreed that the 


opposition speakers should be Mr. Andrew Uniacke, myself. 
Uncle Alfred Jones, Mr. Miller and Mr. Annand. 

I prepared myself as well as I could with the scant mate- 
rials I could gather, to show that Canadian wants with a 
Canadian tariff, compared with our Nova Scotia wants and 
tariff would, under Confederation, result most disastrously 
to Nova Scotia. Tlie greater, who were badly off, would 
rule the lesser, who were well off. Each of tlie speakers was 
to take a special part of the argument, to meet a^ a whole 
with as much unity as could be accomplished. 

The evening came. We stated how we were to proceed, 
following the course the delegates had adopted, and which we 
claimed would only permit us to state our case. 

The delegates and their friends, witii a desire to embarrass, 
said " No," that speaker for speaker they would reply. 
This led to our withdrawal, and as justice was with us, the 
public took our part, and after an hour of hot altercation 
the delegates gave in; but the time of evening was gone, and 
we adjourned to meet the same day next week. 

This eventful night came at last — 31st December, 1864. 
Mr. Uniacke, a lawyer and used to public meetings, began, 
and in a speech of tliree quarters of an hour, gave an opening 
outline, stating that the financial view of the case would be 
given by your father. Now came the hour of trial. If I 
failed, contempt would be thrown upon our argument; the 
haughty, self-elected delegates might carry Confederation 
before the jx^ople of Nova Scotia well knew the important 
questions at issue. I felt that we five men that night upon 
that platform ivcre the pivot upon whon hung the dhstiny 
of Nova Scotia. If we put our case forcibly and clearly, the 
public would bo instructed, and have time to consider the yea 
ami the nay of the great question. 

Scarce ever before had I faced a public audience, and per- 
haps never before in the history of Nova Scotia was such an 
audience addressed as those who were gathered together: 


Judges, lawyers, clergymen, merchants, manufacturers, arti- 
sans and workmen came to hear and observe how their private 
citizens, but earnest men, would meet in mighty argu- 
ment the chief leaders of Nova Scotia's politics. How we 
met them is written in the history of Nova Scotia. From 
eight o'clock until after midnight we kept tlie public ear. 

Your Uncle Alfred, Mr. ]\Iiller, Mr. Annand, all did well, 
and your Uncle George Troop, who leaned towards conserva- 
tism and would not be a partial judge, declared that the meet- 
ing, on a whole, was the most interesting one he had ever 

A week after followed an evening of joint discussion 
between the Confederates and anti-Confederates, Edward 
McDonald and James Tobin joining the anti-Confederate 
speakers, and John Tobin. Peter Lynch and Benjamin Wier 
joining the Confederates. 

Died Tuesday morning, 4 o'clock a.m., November 27th, 
1866, Anna Marshall Duffus, aged 34 years. She left tliree 
boys — William, John, Graham. 

Fehruarij, 1S67. — Bought a pony from Mr. John Palmer, 
of Falmouth; price £30. 

September, 1867. — The elections for the House of Com- 
mons (20th) and Local Assembly (11th). Result: 

Elected for House of Commons: Anti-Unionists, 18; 
Unionists, 1. 

Elected for Local Legislature: Anti-Unionists, 30; 
Unionists, 2. 


[His r.iother's first letter to Williani, age lo.] 

Halifax, X. S.. October 1st, 1S32. 

My Dear Sox, — I can scarcely yet realize tliat you are 
indeed gone so far, and to be away for so long a period from 
us. Your removal from the paternal roof was cause of great 
anxiety to me, and it rests greatly with you to allay that 
anxiety by a constant diligence in keeping up our correspond- 
ence, and obeying the injunctions which I shall occasionally 
lay upon you. I have every reason to believe that you love 
your whole family, and that a letter from your mother will 
be truly v\-elcomc. May it ever continue so is the prayer of 
your anxious parents. That it will I have no doubt, if you 
persevere in tb.e right patli. '" To train you up in the way 
you should go" is one of the dearest o1)jects of my heart; 
and feeble as my efforts in that way have been, they have 
been dictated by a stronger affection than you need ever 
expect from any other quarter. Yet your father's very strong 
desire to have you placed where you are, has at length over- 
come my scruples, and his arguments have, in some measure, 
brought me to the conviction tliat you will have superior 
advantages at Horton to those in Halifax. 

But remeui.ber, my son, that you are now thrown into a 
community of little people, which is just the v^'orld in minia- 
ture, and as you acquit yourself now you lay a foundation 
for future happiness or misery. In the first place you must 
" do unto all "' around you " as you would wish them to do 
unto you."' You will think this very difficult. It is so, my 
son; if you attempt it in your own strength, Satan will then 
defeat you. But you nmst seek aid ; y(m must humble your- 
self in the dust before your ^laker and earnestly entreat of 
His Holy Spirit to grant you the grace to keep you from sin. 
I mean not only at the time of prayer, I mean at all times. 
AVhen at play among your young companions, you must bear 
about witli you a sense of our own inability to do any good 


action, and if you are tempted to commit an improper one, I 
trust you will seek His grace who is all-powerful, and then 
}ou will be able to "do Justly, love mercy, and walk humbly 
with thy God."' This is a very serious letter, but I believe 
it is the first which I have ever addressed to you, and I wish 
your mind to be duly impressed with the knowledge that there 
is often a very short step between innocence and guilt, and 
if that step be once taken, nothing but the grace of God can 
enable any of us to retrace it. I have nearly filled my paper, 
and therefore must conclude; but my dear William, I will 
write you soon again. I leave to Catherine the agreeable 
task of telling you all the news. Father sends his love to his 
dear boy. Your brothers and sisters join me in kindest 
remembrances to you. 

Your atiectionate Mother, 

M. Stairs. 

Halifax, N. S., October Sth, 1832. 

My Deak William, — Your father will send you to-day, 
by ]\Ir. Tupper's team, the articles which you wrote for. — 
I had Just written so far, when your letter of the 4th October 
was brought up to me. 1 am exceedingly pleased with your 
promise of attending to my advice, for oh I my son, what 
comfort would there l^e for me if I thought that vou were to 
be a castawav! I feel as though I could meet anv trouble 
but th.e misconduct of my children, and from that my soul 

i\ry dear child, you must remember at all tunes the sacred- 
ness of truth ; to tell a lie, even what some people call a white 
lie, is a very serious error. Lying, I consider, at the foun- 
dation of every other vice, and 1 think I have always, by my 
example, shown my abhorrence of the habit. But there are 
times when the whole truth need not lie repeated; you are 
not unnecessarily to expose the faults of any person, but if 


questioned by those who have a right to question, never swerve 
from the truth. 1 think I need hardly expatiate upon the 
necessity of respecting the property of others. Surely, my 
dear William would never forget himself so far as to meddle 
with what was not his own, yet I have heard of boys who 
V/ere respectably brought up, robbing orchards. Join in no 
such frolics ! You might bring indelible disgrace upon your- 
self and family; and remember that He who has said " Tliou 
shalt not steal," has not made any exception as to articles. 
And even admitting that we thought only of this life, I have 
always observed that there is much truth in the old proverb, 
" Honesty is the best policy.'' 

We beo-in now to talk about Christmas at the breakfast 
table, because we expect that you will then have some holi- 
days, and mischievous as you were, and much as you used 
to plague us sometimes, we would all like to see you flying up 
and down stairs again; and I think it would be a pleasure to 
you to s^e your brothers and sisters again for a few weeks. 
But you must in the meantime be very diligent at your 
studies, and I shall be much disappointed if I see no improve- 
ment in that way whim you come cluwa. 

I wish you to write me what you are reading in, and I 
expect a long description of how you pass your time. 

My dear child, your father and the children join me in 

affectionate regards. 

M. Stairs. 

Halifax, November 1st, 1S32. 

Dear William, — IMother desire^; me to say we are all 
well, and that she sends you a pair of boots. If they do not 
fit you will send them down by the first opportunity, so that 
Mr. Yates may make you another pair soon. 

Mother says she is glad to hear of your having so instruc- 
tive a book, and hopes when you have done reading that, you 
will procure another. She says it is only fifteen pence a 
quarter for the reading society, and you may subscribe. 


We are getting up the stoves, for the weather has been 
so very cold that we have fires constantly. 

Anna is as fat and as fond of mischief as ever. 

I am, your ever afi'ectionate sister, 

JOAXXA S. Stairs. 

Halifax, 6th November, 1832. 

Dear William, — I wish very much to receive a letter 
from you, and therefore I hope that you will write me by 
the very first private opportunity, for mother says not to write 
to me by the stage on account of the postage; but have your 
letter written ready and send it by the first private convey- 

Catherine had a party, and I sat up till half-past one 
o'clock. Captain Auld has a very handsome ship. I wish 
you had been here to have seen her. Mother, Catherine, 
Joanna, Margaret and Helen all went down to look at her. 

We have two new scholars since you have been away; 
they are William Lawson, from Prince Edward Island, and 
John Freeman, from Liverpool. Some of our boys talk of 
going to the Horton Academy. We go now to school at 7 
o'clock in the morning instead of G o'clock, and we remain 
in school till 9. I wish Christmas was come and you had 
your holidays. Mother says she will make a fine large frosted 
cake, and it shall be cut the evening you arrive. 

Margaret is making you a shirt entirely ])y lierself, and I 
suppose she will have it done by the time you come down. 
The clock is just striking nine, and mother says it is time for 
me to go to bed, so dear William, good-night. 

John Stairs. 

Halifax, November 22nd, 1832. 

My Dear William, — You are, I trust, persevering in 
industrious pursuits and looking forward to a delightful 


vacation spent with your friends. Let me know at what time 
the school will break up for the holidays, liow long the term 
will be, and in what manner the generality of the boys will 
be conveyed to town. Your father has not yet determined 
how to get you down. I am looking out to see you in about 
a month, when I expect to find great improvement iu your 
literary acquirements. I cannot too frequently urge upon 
you the necessity of industry, and am happy to see by your 
letter to John that you understand the full value of time. I 
hope you take the good advice which you have given him. 

I was exceedingly pleased at hearing from Mr. Allan 
that you had been obliging eripugli to MTito him for little 
William, and hope you will always do these little kind offices 
for your school fellows. 

Your father has got the wharf at Dartmouth completed, 
but still visits the coo})erage every morning before break- 
fast. James and the brown horse are at work drawing build- 
ing stones into town from the North-West Arm. Tlie gray 
horse is sent up to Mr. Cochran's at Newport for the winter. 

This is a short letter, dear William, but I am in great 
haste. Be a good child and believe your to be most 
anxious for your improvement and welfare. 

M. Stairs. 

Halifax, December, 1832. 

My Dear Brother. — This being a stormv dav. I could 
not go to school, and therefore have time to write. I was 
much pleased at receiving your letter, and hope to profit by 
your good advice. You asked me if my detter was my own 
composition. T must acknowledge that motlier assisted me 
a good deal in it. 

We have two new scholars since I wrote to you; their 
names are Jo) in Verge and B. Archibald. Joe Austen left 
Mr. Akins' school on purpose to go to Horton Academy, 
and afterwards his father changed liis mind and put him to 


Mr. Lockerby, but he intends sending him to Horton nest 

We have had four alarms of fire; the first was at a house 
near the tea store, which was burnt do^\-n; the second was at 
Mr. Allardice's; but was not very serious; the third was at 
the barracks, and the fourth was the roof of J\Ir. David Shaw 
Clarke's house. 

Margaret and Helen send their love to you, and with the 
hope of seeing you soon, 

I am, your affectionate brother, 

Joiix Stairs. 

Halifax, ^^. S., December Mh. 1S32. 

My Dear Sox, — I am favoured with yours of the 2Gth 
ult., and notice your wish to spend the vacation at home. I 
shall provide in time for you to leave in the stage on the 
morning of the 17th inst. I would not recommend your 
bringing the trunk ; make a bundle of such of vour clothes 
and boot^ as require repairs, put on your best suit for the 
journey down, under your great coat. I shall forward, in 
time, as much money as will pay ^Ir. Johnston's bill up to 
the time you leave, and shall request, and feel obliged by Mr. 
Johnstons procuring a passage for you. I remark your 
anxiety respecting the wharf cooperage and building stones, 
all of which we can converse about when you are at home. I 
hope you have conducted yourself while at Horton so as to 
merit the appreciation of your teachers, Mr. Johnston and 
family, and of your schoolfellows. I should like you to be 
on the best terms with them all, and trust they will be enabled 
to feel a pleasure in your returning among them. 

Mother has not been very well for the last two days, but 

she is now getting better. Your sisters and brothers are well 

and promise themselves much pleasure on your coming to 

town. My dear son. 

Yours tndy, 

Wm. Stairs. 


Halifax, N. S., February 1st, 1833. 

Dear William, — I received your letter, from the tenor of 
which I suppose you had no hand in the affair between Mr. 
Johnston and the boys. I hope I may be right in my suppo- 
sition, for it would give me mucli uneasiness were you to offer 
any insult to Mr, Johnston, for I consider him as much enti- 
tled to respect as if he were the father of every boy under his 
charge; you will therefore please me much by respecting Mr. 
Johnston. Be assured he will not require you to do anything 

Herewith you will receive a pair of boots, in one of which 
you will find .^s. 9d. for tlie purchase of a book. The family 
are all well. I remain, dear William, 

Yours affectionately, 

Wm. Stairs. 

Halifax, N. S., February lltli, 1S33. 

Dear WiLLiA:\r, — We Avere all happy to hear of your being 
well, by your letter to your father. We have got plenty of 
enow, of wliieli, I suppose, there is no scarcity at Horton. 
Father's new ship, the " John Porter,"' arrived from London 
a fortnight ago. is now loading, and v\ill sail for Liverpool 
on Sunday. She is a fine vessel of three hundred tons, and 
stands letter A. No. 1, at Lloyd's; Messrs. Fairbanks and 
Macnab own one-lialf of her. I liope the Horton Academy 
will cojitinuc to do well. ]\Ir. Lockerby's school is daily in- 
creasing. We have got three uqw scholars lately; their names 
are Frederick Huglies, James Kerr, and Eobert Dupont. 

Since you left home Joanna attempted to make some 
candy for you, but did not succeed. She intends trying it 
again. I liope she may be in(;re fortunate, for I thinlv a lot 
of good \yliite sugar candy wudd Ije very acceptable to you 
and your cronies. Mother desires me to say that she intends 
writing to you very soon, and is very happy to understand 
that you were not one of those wlio beliaved with disrespect 


to Mr. Johnston. The watchman has just cried " half-past 
nine." Joanna is preparing a Welsh rarebit. I wish you 
were here to partake of it. Our sisters are all well, Anna 
is much improved, but she cannot walk. Mr. Ford, a gentle- 
man from the States, has commenced giving lectures on 
Astronomy in the Acadian School at eight o'clock in the 
evening. We have got a family ticket; the lectures are given 
on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Father, mother, Joanna and 
I went last Tuesday. Father and I are going on Thursday. 
I was very much pleased with Mr. Ford's lecture. 

Helen and Margaret request me to give their love to you. 
They are very well, but Helen hiu't her hand a little on the 
stove to-day. I must now conclude. 

Your affectionate brother, 

John Stairs. 

Halifax, N. S., March 27th, 1833. 

My Dear Son, — iSTot hearing from you more frequently 
makes me exceedingly unhappy. How can you be so un- 
grateful as never to think of home? 

I can assure you I am very dissatisfied with' your conduct; 
it is your duty to sit down and write to us at least every 
week, not to leave it to the last minute, but to take time and 
write a good, long, well-spelt letter. If you begin so early 
to neglect your family, I know not what we may expect in 

I have had a narrow escape for my life, and am indebted 
to your little brother for my preservation. Your father and 
sisters being out, I was sitting here alone on the evening 
before last. I got up and went to the closet in John's room 
and stooped down, and by some accident my cap took fire from 
the candle. In less than an instant my cap. collar and pocket 
handkerchief were all in flames. In an agony of terror I 
threw myself on my face on the carpet, thinking to drag it 
about me; but it was tacked down, and I received no benefit 


from it. Jolm, who saw my danger, sprang out of bed and 
threw a basin of water, out of the wash-stand, over me. The 
flames began to revive again, but he smothered them out 
with his hands. I received no further injury than being 
burnt about tlie size of my lumd on the back of my neck. It 
is getting better. 

I send you by this opportunity a pair of new trousers. I 
wish you to write me if they fit welL If they are too long 
you must get somebody to tuck them for you. You will also 
receive some umgazincs, which were given to me by the cap- 
tain of the "' JoI;n Porter." 

I must add that you do not deserve such indulgences, and 
that I am l)y no means satisfied; your brothers and sisters, 
I am afraid, will forget you. 

Your truly anxious mother, 

]\I. Stairs. 

Halifax, N. S., April 2Gih, 1S33. 

j\Iy Dear William, — We were very much pleased to hear 
that you expected to have a garden this summer. It is not 
likely that wo will have many flowers, but we may have a 
few vegetables. The carpenters have l>een very busy at the 
stable, and it is all boarded and nearly shingled ; it measures 
30 feet by 23. Mother sends her love to you, ami was very 
much pleased with your last letter. She ho})es you will write 
very soon again and make your letter very long. Tlie (Ireon- 
woods and T go down to the bridge every day to pick dulce. 
Captain Auld is here just now in the handsome ship 
" Acadian." Father expects the " Isabella'' and tlie " Cor- 
sair " every day. We have not heard of the arrival of the 
" John Porter " yet, and she must have had a very long pas- 
sage. We have heard from John Craigen. Mother has re- 
ceived a very long letter from Mrs. Lang, wdio desires to be 
remembered to you. Father received a letter from Mr. 
Lang. Father is sitting by the fire; he desires me to say he 

hopes that you will be attentive to your studies, careful of 
your wardrobe, respectful to your teachers. 

Dear William, John had written this last night, but on 
its becoming late, mother sent him to bed, and now he is out 
playing with the Greenwoods, so I have undertaken to finish. 

We send you letters, a pen knife and a pair of 

trousers. Wish you to return the magazines as soon as you 
are done with them. JMind and write very often indeed, and 
believe me to be yours, 

C. M. Stairs. 

To \Ym. James Stairs, Horton Academy, from John and C. 
M. Stairs. 

Halifax, Jwie 2nd, 1833. 

My Dear William, — We were all very sorry to hear of 
your sore band, and I should like to know something further 
about it. 

The time is now drawing near when we shall have the 
pleasure of your being with us. Your father has been keep- 
ing very close to business, for trade has bc~en so dull lately 
and so many people have failed, that his ideas respecting 
commerce have become very gloomy. I hope you will come 
home with the determination of putting your shoulder to the 
wheel. All that you can do is to give a cheerful and steady 
obedience to your fathers commands. I had hoped that you 
would have been put into the counting house of a stranger, 
but matters have gone so wrong with the commercial part of 
the community that your father cannot afford to spare your 
services, but must make use of you in the place of some one 
that in better times he might have hired : therefore you must 
make up your mind to going into our own store, and I hope, 
my dear son, that you will bo a pattern to those who arc 
already there. 

John Craigen has set up in business for himself, and we 
have now onlv Richard and Andrew. They are much older, 

7 b 

and of course understand their duty much better than you, 
and you must expect to be quite under them; but you can 
show them an example of steadiness and attention. I never 
saw such a time of necessity in my life as there is in general 
over the town. We are going on with the house, but every- 
thing is so gloomy that I cannot take any pleasure in it. We 
must hope that it will draw us to place our affections on 
things above. 

I have great reason for thankfulness in having my chil- 
dren all well, and I endeavour to be always conscious of this, 
but I cannot conquer my lowness of spirits. I hope, my son, 
that you will be my comfort. 

Your father, brothers and sisters join me in love. 

M. Stairs. 

We sent you something for making trousers. Ijet me 
know if 30U have received it. I will try to procure you a cap. 

Halifax, July 2nd, 1S33. 

My Dear William, — You must have observed how sel- 
dom I have written to you lately. My heart has been at Hor- 
ton, but my mind has been in a most anxious, unsettled state 
owing to the calamitous condition of the community. When 
I see so many of our old acquaintances suffering, I cannot but 
feel sorrow for them and dread for ourselves, and therefore 
I have desired Catherine to write instead of doing so myself. 
I sec where the error of the people here has been — the women 
have been extravagant, the men too speculative. Heaven 
grant it nuiy prove a warning to us all. 

My dear child, you are about entering the shop and office 
at a time of great scarcity. I think it will be for your ulti- 
mate benefit. The present season of suffering will impress 
your mind with the necessity of keeping out of debt. If men 
would be satisfied with small things and regulate their house 
expenses accordingly, it would be much better for us all. 

t I 

Your father's plau at present is to contract his business, and 
I hope that you will commence with a firm determination to 
be proud of industry. Some men in this town have been 
ruined by their sons' indolence and pride. If you have 
formed any foolish notions as respects the kind of work you 
would do, they must be given up. These notions have been 
the ruin of Halifax. Oh, William ! it is melancholy to relate, 
but many families in this town who lived as comfortably as 
ourselves have not now the means of going to market. Yes, 
my son, they are at this moment suffering for food. 

I have said much respecting the disastrous state of affairs 
here. It is to impress on your mind the necessity of indus- 
try. But there is one thing which I would urge still more 
strenuously, that is, " To seek first the kingdom of God and 
His righteousness, and all things shall be added thereto." My 
child, ponder over this text well; let it not be driven from 
your thoughts. Oh ! may the Holy Spirit assist you and 
enable you and us all to commit our affairs for time and for 
eternity into His hands. 

Your last letter was cause of sorrow to me for the loss you 
had met with, but I was consoled by the method you took to 
extricate yourself from the difficulty. If you had delayed 
acquainting us the affair would have been worse. Your 
father was not very angry; he rather pitied you, liut money 
is verv scarce with us. 

Be careful of your clothes, but when you are leaving 
Horton, if you have any which you have outgrown and you 
think they will not answer for John, you can get Miss DeWolf 
to dispose of them as she did some before. 

I wish you could procure some kind of a cheap straw hat 
at Horton. I would send you the money to pay for it. We 
do not know how to fit your head. Be careful of the money 
which I enclose in this letter. Pay all the people immedi- 
atelv. Write me soon. I am, 

Your affectionate mother, 

M. Stairs. 


Halifax^ Saturday, Aug., 1833. 

My Dear Son, — It was uiy intention to have written soon 
after your return to Horton; Ijut feeling that what I had to 
say would be disagreeable, 1 have deferred it until now. 

During the Cliristmas vacation I was much pleased with 
you. I believe I had not occasion to find fault with you once 
all the time you were with us; but the last time you were 
down there was such a degree of carelessness and indolence 
in 30ur conduct, that I was glad when the time came round 
for you to go to school, and it was, I can assure you, the first 
time your mother was glad to have you leave the house. 
Heaven grant that it may be the last time 1 shall find plea- 
sure at your departure; but my son, you cannot Qxpect your 
father and mother will continue io love you if you give your 
time entirely up to play and show no disposition to improve 
your mind when vv'ith them, by reading, or accomplishing any 
little work which they may put u})on you. I cannot forget 
the indolence you sliowed respecting clearing out the walks. 

Mr. Johnston told your father that he knew nothing of 
your intention to leave his house until he missed you out of 
it. AVhat aji improper way of leaving! Why did you not 
acquaint him with your intention before you went? It was 
insolent in thiC extreme. 

Your last letter to Catherine was cold and unsatisfactory. 
It was written in tlie most careless manner imaginable. You 
do not pay the slightest attention to a paragraph in hers in 
which she acquaints you with John's having burnt his face 
very nmch with gunpowder. It has now got pretty well, but 
you might have noticed it. 'J'he fact is, William, that 3'ou 
must become industrious; you must write letters, ami longer 
letters, to your family, or de})end upon it, my young gentle- 
man, you vrill come olf l)y tlie worst. Pray did 'Mr. Pryor 
give you a receipt, and why did you not send it to your father? 

I hope that I shall soon receive ;i long letter from you, in 
expectation of wliich I still subscribe myself, 

Your affectionate Mother. 


Halifax^ September 13th, 1S33. 

My Deak William, — If you have been careless and 
thoughtless, you have made all the amends in your power by 
your acknowledgments and promises to bo more attentive in 

I know that idleness is at the foundation of the greatest 
vices, and therefore when I see vou indolent it fills mv mind 
with apprehensions; but I am so well satisfied yitli your last 
letter that I again trust you will dispose of your time in a 
way to improve your mind and make 3'ou a respectable inem- 
ber of society. My dear child, all I want of you is to do well 
for yourself, and I know that you cannot do that if you l)egin 
by disobedience to your parents. I entreat of you when you 
receive this letter to set immediately about the lessons which 
Mr. Pryor has given you, and to do so every day; and do, my 
son, borrow some book which will be profitable and amusing 
to read at leisure hours wl;;en you are out of school. Now 
the next letter you write, let me know what book it is, and I 
will give you my opinion of it if I have perused it. 

Dear William, you must recollect that these injunctions 
are easily complied v.'itb, and that I cannot be contented 
witliout knowing that you are spending your time in this way. 

We are still at Dartmouth, and hiave found the weather 
rather cold, but intend moving over in about a fortnight. I 
suppose we shall find a great change in the temperature of 
the air in town. 

We were all up at Uncle Stayner's yesterday, excejit Anna. 
We had a most delightful day, and I believe John had a great 
treat, for ho got a low, quiet pony of Mr. Stayner's to ride 
about upon all t^.c afternoon. Uncle came down in the gig 
for us. Some rode and some walked, and in the evening we 
came home in the same way. This afternoon we aio going to 
Mr. Creighton's to tea. 

The ofirls are ail well and send their love. 


John has just now come in from school. He is getting 
his dinner, and I hear voice ascending from below. His 
face has got quite well. 

I am afraid wo shall have to part with our cow and fowls 
when we leave here, for father thinks it will be troublesome 
keeping them in town. 

Your father sends Ids love to you, and I am, dear 


Your Affectioxate Mother. 

Halifax, ^^. S., 17th, 1833. 

My Dear \Villiaa,i, — Your letter to your father of last 
week gave both him and me a little uneasiness. We are 
sorry to hear that you are not agreeably situated at Mr. John- 
son's, and the idea of your clianging your place of residence, 
and being from under the care of the assistant teacher (for 
Mr. Pryor will surely soon procure one), is matter of anxiety 
with us. You have at present, as far as I can understand, 
the advantage of some religious instruction in the familv 
where you are placed. Will it bo thus at Mr. De Wolf's? 
And the additional expense of 2s. (kl. per week should be an 
object of consideration, although not of tlie first importance. 
After a good deal of thoughit on the subject your father has 
come to the determination of allowing you to act for yourself 
in the affair, trusting that you will not let a feeling of caprice 
induce vou to make the change; but if. after weisrhing the 
matter well in your own mind, you think that it will be for 
your idtimate benefit to remove to Mr. DeWolf's, you have 
lilx'rty to present the enclosed note. 

My dear boy, think well on the subject, and do not study 
your present comfort so much as your advantages as to in- 
struction, and the facilities for improvement which you may 
have, f^emember that all our anxiety is that you should 
acquire knowledge. I hope you persevere in the study of 
Natural Philosophy. You will find if you now go through 


the drudgery a little, that hereafter you will have a wonder- 
ful deal of pleasure in the science. Let me know if you still 
go on with Greek, or if you have discontinued it and fill up 
the time by a closer application to Arithmetic. Write me a 
long letter all about your studies, and if you go to Mr. 
DeWolf's, describe to me how you are situated, tell me the 
names of tlie boys who are in the house with you, and also 
write to your father respecting your removal. Be very par- 
ticular in ascertaining that the charge will not be more than 
10s. per week, for it would be a sad trial to find that your 
father was saddled witli a still greater expense than he con- 
templated. He would have written himself, but is greatly 
engaged to-day with business, and begged of me to acquaint 
you with Ms sentiments. 

John has written you a letter, but I must acknowledge 
that it is not altogether his own diction. However, I hope 
that you will take pleasure in answering it. The children all 
join your father and me in tlie warmest love to our dear 

Your affectionate mother, 

M. Stairs. 

WoLFViLLE, N. S., July 10th, 1S33. 
Dear Mother, — I received yours on the 7th, and I have 
paid all my bills in Hortou. I have taken your leave and 
bought myself a straw hat. If I had not done so, I don't 
much think that you would see me in Halifax this vacation. 
I have lost more flesh just by wearing that cap on those hot 
days this summer than I gained all winter. It is so warm 
now that I can scarcely manage to write, although I am sit- 
ting by the window with a breeze blowing in, and my jacket 
off. Several of the boys are going to Halifax to-morrow, 
although the vacation does not commence till this dav week. 
I wish you would forward me by the first opportunity 14 
shillings to take me to Halifax, and 3 to pay for my hat. The 


stockings fitted admirably. I shall be glad to get to Halifax; 
it is so much cooler tliere than here. 1 never felt it so hot. 
I have been making calculations^ and find that I can go to 
town by a private conveyance 11 shillings and 10 pence 
cheaper tlian in the coach, so I think that I had better try to 
save that mucJi money. I have not much more to write. All 
I have I can soon tell you by words. The boys are all very 
impatient to get home, as you may suppose that I am. 

Give my love to all tlie family. 

I am, your affectionate 

W. J. Stairs. 

Letter from W. J. Stairs, Horton Academy, to hi> mother, 
M. Stairs. 

NoLwntber, I mean March loth. 

My Dear Parents, — I received your letter last Sunday, 
and I would ha\e answered it Ix^fore, only I had nothing par- 
ticular to say. I believe we are going to get anotlier boarder 
soon, but I am not certain. They still keep crowding into 
Mr. Johnson's. There are at present 26 boarders, besides 12 

in the family. At Mr. D tliey are the most cleanly 

people I ever saw, and if it could be, neater tlian at home. 
They take great care of my clothes and mend them whenever 
they want it. I have got my boots mended, and Mr. DeWolf 
paid for them. I wisli you would send me about one dozen 
buttons, the same size as one I will send down, and about 
l-16th of a yard of blue cloth to mend my clothes. Joanna's 
candy was very acceptable. I saw Mr. Roy hist Wednesday 
and gave him the letter. I could not give him it before, 
because he lives up the road nearly eight miles. The weather 
still keeps very cold, and we have h,ad not above 12 fine days. 

W. Stairs. 

On the other side of same page is written the following: — 

My Dear Brother, — As you are so anxious that I should 
write to you in particular, I vrill ; but you must remember 


that when I write to one I writ^ to all the family. I was 
glad to hear Mr. Lockerby's school was increasing. We have 
fine fun up here every morning. We have about a mile to 
go to school, and we have rigged up a sled to take to school. 
We have four boys for horses, and we ride by turns. I had 
my ride this morning, and if you were up here you would 
have yours too. Give my love to all the family. 

W. Stairs. 
John Stairs in particular . 

On same sheet : 

My Dear Sisters^ — I wish you would write also. 

W. Staies. 

Letters written by W. J. Stairs to liis parents, sisters and 

[From 1S41 to 1850.] 

Halifax^ 27th January, ISJ^l. 

Di-:la.r William^ — In your letter you said you wished to 
hear about the sliop. After you left us we were as busy as 
we have Ijeen since I v/ent into the shop. I was almost worn 
off my legs. Tom is busy at the putty; he has made nearly 
a ton ; bladders 2s. 6d. per doz., very cheap. Nothing to do 
just now, all the farmers are at home. There has been no 
sleighing since Xew Year's day. George Isner was in the 
shop to-day and was telling me about a very strange thing 
that happened tliere before lie left. As George Westhaver 
was driving the cattle to the woods across a field, all of a 
sudden they stopped and they would neither gw. nor lia'.v. At 
last he got them home. Well, the next morning, passing 
that way, they observed a deep hole about 20 feet wide and 
shelving inwards. He could not find bottom mth two lines, 
that is, 60 fathoms. I suppose the cattle heard it sounding 
hollow, and he observed it rise and fall. There is a house 
about 250 yards from it. Jim's niece died the day after you 


left — quite a blessing. I had a letter from Allison by last 
steamer. He says he is very sorry to hear that our now Gov- 
ernor is a Liberal, that it will be very bad for the Province in 
its present disturbed state. There was a splendid Tory Black 
Dinner got up by the Eazor Eow Coveys the other day; it 
was held at Mr. Scippio Cooper's, Mr. Septimus Clarke in 
the chair, Mr. Touey Vice, Mr. Prince Sport, assistant vice. 
The dinner went off very well (but the toasts). Mr. Clarke 
proposed " The Queen," Mr. Toney " De Koyal Babe," Mr. 
Sport, " Here is to de colour that never wants perfume nor 
paint." Joe Bennet got upon op}X)sition coach. The dinner was 
held at Preston in the school-house, about four miles from the 
Ferry. Mr. Samson Carter, President, he says in his speech 
dat de Royalty of dose people among tliem rocks at Preston 
is astoimding. There is a steam grist mill about going up; 
Sam Storey, Bill Allan, Ned Allison and Sheriff Sawyer have 
bought that property of Lydiard's, next to Keith's, for £1,300. 
Storey is away to the States to get the machinery, and I 
believe Metzler talks of putting up one. Old Snodgrass 
died the other day very suddenly. All the militia officers 
had to attend the funeral. Quantities of vessels have been 
wrecked along the coast. It comes very heavy on the insur- 
ance offices. The Halifax has lost £10,000, the Union just 
cleared itself, the Xova Scotia the same. I was looking to- 
day at two splendid })ups from Joe Bennet's slut; there is 
not a speck of any colour but white; they look just like lumps 
of snow. Joe intends to send them to Prince Albert, Tom 
Tidmarsh means to send his two to O'Connell. We had an 
alarm of fire the other night. Grig Dwyer roused us out of 
bed and told us tliat his house was on fire. We ruslied out 
and r;m down to help Idm and got the fire under without 
doing much harm. Old Bill Pryor was a good deal afraid 
of his office and stores. Tom Hill left here the other day for 
the West Indies. We heard a splendid lecture from Joe 
Howe last Wednesday evenini:^ on the towns of the Province, 
I forgot to mention a circumstance about that place in 


Mahone Bay. It is situated on the top of a hill, about the 
height of Citadel Hill, and a quarter of a mile from the sea, 
and the water is the same as spring water. Jim Mitchell 
sailed for Jamaica last Friday. Father Laughlin gave the 
temperance pledge to between four and five hundred persons, 
mostly women. Among those tliat took it was Holland, the 
blacksmith. Charles Fairbanks has been given almost up 
by bis relations as mad. Captain looks as well as ever. 
Going to school yesterday, the roads being very slippery, his 
legs slipped and down he came. Lutzo has to be chained up 
every night; he generally gives a serenade before he goes to 
sleep. All the family are at home at present and in good 
bodily health) ; there is every appearance though of one of 
them leaving us, as some person has been hooked. You told 
me to remember you to Grant, Jim, Tom, and Tom Cushion. 
I pulled all their noses to your memory. I have had a few 
days' skating; what there was of the ice was very good; tJie 
lakes are nearly all broken up, the skates do not move off. 
The sleighing was very fine about Christmas. All the farm- 
ers were in from tlie country, and money was rolling into the 
till and goods were rolling off the shelves as fast as they pos- 
sibly could. (Full stop.) 

I am, yours, 

John Stairs. 

Do not forget the instrument, called a watch; WATCH 
Chain & Co. 

Halifax, N. S., February 2nd, ISJi-l. 

My Dear William, — I cannot express how much I waij 
delighted when your kind letter arrived. 

I certainly felt great trust in our heavenly Father that 
He would protect and guide you; but my mind could not b{. 
at all divested o:^ anxious thoughts, therefore when the 
steamer arrived and acquainted us with your safety, my 
cause for thankfulness seemed so gi-eat that I could not be 
thankful enough. But in the evening, when we sat almost 


without breathing around your father whilst he read your 
letter, my cup seemed overflowing with mercy. 

My dear son, I thank you for the minuteness with which 
you have written to us, and hope that you are dispatcliing 
just suoli another epistle. The family are all writing to-day, 
but I am afraid they feel as if they had very little to com- 
municate; one day seems to pass the same as another with 
us. Anna begs that you will get yourself vaccinated for fear 
you may take the small-pox ; she has gone through tliat oper- 
ation herself. It was great pleasure to hear that our friends 
in Glasford were so well and so pleasantly situated. I hope 
you ^nll remember us all to them in the most affectionate 
manner, and do not forget to give my regards to Mrs. Kid- 
ston. I am thankful you have so kind and motherly a friend 
near you. I hope before this time you will have seen some 
of our Halifax people. I saw Mrs. W. Brown a few days 
ago in her own house. She and the children are quite well. 
Mrs. J. Forman paid me a visit, and we had a long chat 
about our sons. She hopes when you return you will be able 
to tell her something about James, who left here in the last 
steamer. We expect that you will have seen a great deal of 
him in Glasgow. My dear William, you will have to provide 
yourself with a little present for each of the children and 
myself, and we all think that some little artick\s to lay on the 
drawing-room table will be acceptable. Besides this, I wish 
you to got me a nice china dessert set, having about eighteen 
plates to it. 1 have seen Mrs. Berton and Mrs. Morrison. 
They were both pleased with your attention in writing about 
their friends. 

Believe me to be your affectionate mother, 

M. STAI11.S. 

Written by Mrs. W. J. Stairs. 

Halifax, N. S., August 6th, ISJtS. 

My Dear Brother, — You need not be told how glad we 
were to hear of your short and pleasant passage across the 


Atlantic, and hope the time that has elapsed since you wrote 
may have been equally pleasant. Your budget of letters by 
this packet will not be quite as large as tlie former one was, 
for three of the writers are away from home, and so tliey do 
not know that we have a letter from you. Catherine has been 
for some time wishing to be in the country, and as Helen and 
Anna are always ready for fun, as soon as the Prencbi class 
was done with, they asked leave to spend the last week of 
their holidays at St. Margaret's Bay. Catherine means to 
stay a fortnight, and Mag; and I hope that father will be 
able to take time to drive us down in a day or two, and he 
will bring home Helen and Anna. 

We spent an evening at Mrs. Forman's since you left 
home, where John acted the part of a beau. Mr. Outram was 
one of the party, who has since had the influenza, which cold 
caused him to hiave rheumatism in the jaw, rather an uncom- 
fortable place for pain. I find I have begun my writing on 
the wrong page, but it is too late now to remedy it; and "what 
can't be cured must be endured." 

Margaret and Helen and I were on a picnic the otlier day 
at a place next to Winter's, the Common Council man — a 
house which Mr. MacGregor had charge of through law busi- 
ness — and as Miss ]\IcKie and Mrs. Hartshorn asked us to 
go, we were tliere among the children of two or three families 
and such old ladies and gentlemen as Mr, and Mrs. Lee, Mrs. 
Dempster and Mr. John Tremain. The day was spent very 
pleasantly indeed, althougli we had to dance in the house 
because of rain. You will perhaps remark that this letter is 
altogether about myself, but I think it is very hard to write 
about the places you may be at when I have never seen any 
of them nor of their inhabitants, so I must beg pardon if I 
am egotistical in going back to the same subject. Margaret 
and I spent an evening at Mrs. Kinnear's last week. It was 
quite a large party. As Kate expected to leave home the next 
morning she thought it most prudent not to be out late the 
night before. We are going this evening to Miss De 


Chezeau's to meet the bride from Dartmouth, Mrs. Turner. 
It will be a more moderate party than the last as to hours, 
for some of the company did not leave Kinnear's until three 
in the morning. Yesterday Margaret brought from Miss 
McKie's a drawing of her own which has been framed. We 
think that is doing very well for the tuition she has had. Miss 
McKie is going do\vn to the Bay noxt week, and Margaret is 
to try to sketch from nature. Helen and Anna practised 
duets together before they went away, so you see the accom- 
plishments of the juniors far exceeds that of the elder 
branches. I believe I have exhausted my stock of events, and 
must come to a conclusion. 

Begging you to think of me as your much attached sister, 


18 HoLLis Street, 
Halifax, N. S., July 2nd, IS^S. 

Dear Susan^ — Since your departure we have been watch- 
ing the winds and the weather, and trust that if you have had 
them as favourable as we have, you have before this had the 
pleasure of meeting your Englishi friends. Your Xova Scotia 
ones are just as you left them. Maggie spent the day with 
Anna two days ago, and they all were well at Uncle John's 
and grandmamma's. 

"Will you tell William that I received a letter yesterday 
from young Duncan, informing me of the death of his father. 
He died on the 6th of June. The latter is dated from Edin- 
burgh, Che\Tie street, Xo. 17. It was an event not altogether 
unexpected by his familv, he having been in ill health for 
some time. 

We all continue in good icalth; Joanna no worse; the 
improvements at Pine Grove progressing, though the building 
is not quite ready for us yet. With respect to your future 
dwelling I have looked about a good deal, and at last settled 
upon Brenton's house. It is on a small scale, but very neat 


and air}'. It was all painted last year; will be easily made 
to look cheerful, and when you can afford it you can soon get 
a larger one. The rent is only thirty-eight ^unds per year. 

I have been doing duty for you the last week in the way 
of receiving visitors and eating bride-cake. I believe your 
grandmamma and aunt have been similarly engaged. I am 
going up to see them as soon as the weather clears up. 

William will understand that when I write to his better 
half it is the same as if I addressed himself; therefore tliis is 
the only epistle I shall pen by this packet. The girls are all 
lazy at writing, l)ut they and Mr. Stairs and John join me in 
sincerest expressions of love to yourself and William. 

Dear Susam write me soon, and believe me 

Your affectionate mother, 

M. Stairs. 
Mrs. William J. Stairs. 

Halifax, Jfth July. ISJ^S. 

Dear Children, — This day domestic affliction has visited 
us. We have met with a severe bereavement in the death of 
our dear Joanna, who, since your departure, showed s}'7nptoms 
of returning health. Only last evening, Mrs. McColl being 
here, we were complimenting our dear child on her improved 
appearance. Our delight was not permitted to be of long 
continuance. The Almight}' has taken her, in His good 
pleasure, unto Himself. Though it can avail but little, I 
feel called upon to relate to my dear children the circum- 
stances immediately preceding the departure of our dear 
daughter. This morning, at half-past three o'clock, Helen 
alarmed your dear mother and I. We soon discovered that 
the attack, under which poor Joanna was th/en suffering, 
would prove more severe than those she had been, within the 
last twelve months, so frequently subjected to. She com- 
plained of excessive pain in her chest. I hurried away for 


Doctor Avery, and though but a short time absent, 25 
minutes, I saw her in life no more. She died in the arms of 
your dear mother. The immediate cause of the death of the 
dear child may be attributed to the rupture of a blood vessel. 
From the time of the first alarm, which Margaret, who was 
sleeping with .Toanna, had, till tlie close of the dear child's 
life, the period did not exceed one hour. 

Now that our dear daughter has gone home, her life seems 
to me like a dream. Tlie period of her axistence, 27 years, 
appears very short. From her earliest childhood she had, in 
various ways, suffered much. I always viewed her as a deli- 
cate flower, and have long been prepared for her being called 
away; but during the last twelve months my anxiety respect- 
ing her has been very great. 

She appeared very happy, pleased with all around her, 
and wishing to impart pleasure to all those who came in her 
way, desiring nothing but kindness and affection from her 
friends, which she much required. lier interment will take 
place to-morrow, Saturday evening, at (! o'clock. I feel sure 
that you will s}'mpathize with those dear relatives whom 
you have so recently left. It will require time to reconcile 
us to our bereavement. It is to bo hoped that the melancholy 
event may prove a salutary lesson, showing us the uncertainty 
of all things appertaining to this life. In justice to our dear 
departed daughter, I feel as if it were my duty, and my love 
for her prompts me to say tluit she was an obedient, modest, 
kind, afft'ctiouate aiul good child; she was all that was 
lovely, and I liave much hn])piness in i'eeling an assurance 
that she will be among the number called to enjoy eternal 
life, with wiioin I trust we shall all be found. Her remains 
are now beside me, in her coffin, having her own sweet expres- 
sion of countenauee, which I, though feeling sad, find pleasure 
in looking ujx)n. Were it in my power I would not recall her. 
" The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the 
name of the Lord." 


Halifax, 17th July, 181^5. 

My Dear Children, — Since the date of the foregoing, 
we have, as you would naturally suppose, been living in retire- 
ment. Your dear mother and sisters have not been out. 
They occasionally take a little exercise in the garden. I hope 
it will not be long before I can induce them to go a.s far as 
the grave, which is nearly ready. Your kind mother and 
sisters do not write by this day's mail ; they desire me to send 
their love to you and join me in hoping that the Lord will, 
in His great mercy, protect and permit you to return to us 
in good health. We have met with much kindness and sym- 
pathy from all our acquaintances and neighbours, of which 
we should not be unmindful. 

I must conclude with an assurance that we are all in 
good health. I am, my dear cliildren. 

Your affectionate Father, 

Wm. Stairs. 
To William and Susan Stairs. 

Thursday evening, 7 o'clock, 

July nth, ISJfS. 

]\It Dear Children', — Your kind and affectionate letters 
dated, Susan's at Derby, William's at London, have just 
come to hand. We could not but be pleased and gratified 
with your kind attention. The contents and tenor of your 
letters afforded us much satisfaction. Our dear daughter 
and sister was not permitted to remain with us till your 
first communication from England came to hand, thus show- 
ing the uncertainty of all things on this earth. ?day the 
Lord bless and protect you. Consider this as the continuance 
of the enclosed, and believe me, my dear children, 

Your affectionate father, 

Wm. Stairs. 
William and Susan Stairs. 


Halifax, August 2nd, ISJ^G. 

Dear William, — 1 received yours of tlio 18th of July, 
and in reply would mention now that you have given me 
something to write about. The boys are getting on very well, 
but require a good deal of looking after, which k(X'ps me 
pretty close. I find that I get on much better this summer 
than last, having my own way almost altogether. We have 
been fitting out several vessels, but have been very particular. 
Our stock is fast giving out. We have been very busy last 
week with our damaged goods. The men are very busily 
engaged with the lower cellar. We have received our glass 
from London, whicli turns out very well. I tliink we ought 
to liave fifty more boxes, 7 x 9. The salt is all sold. Our 
cordage is very low. Tar is very dull. We were too fierce. 
Sarah h,as been pretty well, and sends her love, and hopes 
that you are not fatigued to death. Willie has grown quite 
a strapping fellow, knows how to smile, etc. 

This being Sunday I must not write too long. I am. 

Your affectionate brotlier, 

John Stairs. 

Halifax, N. S., August 9tli, ISJ^S. 

My Dear William, — We are now looking out for the 
arrival of the steamer. Of course I am anxious, but thanks 
be to a merciful Providence who has carried you along safely 
so many times from home, and permitted us to have such 
good tidings from you by the last arrival. My hopes are 
strong tbat we shall be favoured in like manner again. Your 
dear little boy spent some time with me yesterday. He is 
increasing in size and showing decided marks of intelligence, 
with a very strong disposition to be in his mamma's 

Susan was with us last evening. She was expecting let- 
ters witli anxiety. John and Sarah are quite well. They 


desire to be remembered to you. Catherine, Margaret and 
Helen send their kindest love to you. Anna is now at your 
hiouse breakfasting witli Susan. Your father joins me in 
love, and believe me 

Your affectionate Mother. 

P. S. — Dear William, would you have the kindness to 
procure for me a few of those seats adapted to carrying about. 
I tliink we would find them very convenient at the Grove. 

Glasford Manse, September 2Jf-th, ISJfl. 

My Dear William, — I embrace a leisure hour to answer 
your truly welcome letter, written upon the day succeeding 
your arrival at home. It gave us sincere pleasure to learn 
that you had again reached that much-loved spot in safety, 
and were permitted to enjoy its endearments once more; and 
what a mercy it is to have such relatives to meet with ! May 
you be enabled to improve your privileges, and may every 
moment be sanctified to prepare you all for a blessed entrance 
into that world where separation is unknown. I rejoice to 
hear of your beloved mother, and shall be still more delighted 
to have a letter from her. 1 trust she will be very particular 
in giving me some account of each member of her family, 
never neglecting my own Anna. From you also, my dear 
William, I beg a constant remembrance and communication 
as often as you can afford me the gratification. 

I shall be very anxious until I hear whether the goods 
you purchased were safely carried across the Atlantic, and 
if they gave satisfaction to your father, who I earnestly hope 
will ever have cause to bless God for his oldest son, and 
indeed every one of his children. I wish you to prosper in 
all things temporal, but above all in your spiritual interests. 
It is a sweet reflection to my mind that the short while we 
spent together here, enabled me to discover the gracious deal- 
ings of God with your soul. I take unspeakable comfort in 


the belief tliat Jesus Christ has been made your righteousness 
and strength. For this glorious mercy let His name be 
exalted for ever and ever. The grace that has ])een shown 
to you encourages nie to cry for like mercy to my children. 
Your faithful mother has been satisfied in seeing her son 
brought near to Christ. I do hope that I could be heart 
earnest in the duties devolving on me, and see the glory of 
God in the salvation of my little ones. I daresay you have 
felt the strong temptations of Satan in many ways already, 
for he is ever vigilant to destroy the hopeful work of God; 
but remember, my dear William, he will seek to interrupt 
you at every step and raise up stumbling l)locks at every turn; 
but keep close to your divine Leader. Look constantly at His 
example, and take to yourself the armour which He has pro- 
vided for all His people. My experience has led me to dread 
my internal enemy more than any other. The wicked heart 
that beats within me is the most ensnaring and dangerous 
foe, ever treacherous and so deceitful tliat I am betrayed with- 
out being aware of my state. May you be strengthened 
against indwelling corruptions more than ever I have been, 
and may you obtain the victory through Him who died to 
save us from our sins. You will have much to contend with 
in this wicked world. Business itself Ix^comes a snare, liy 
seducing us from our seasons of communion with God ; and 
what is falsely called pleasure seeks to draw our hearts from 
the only true happiness. I do trust, my son in affection, 
that you will be delivered from every snare and evil work, 
and defended to the heavenly kingdom. To the great 
Eedeemer do I commend you, in unison with your precious 
mother, who lias devoted you to God, I know and believe. 
Do tell my named child to give herself to Jesus Christ, as I 
hope all her sisters, and dear John also, will be directed to 
do by irresistible heavenly grace. I humbly pray to meet you 
all in glory, though I may never behold you in the flesh. 

Say to my beloved friend, your mother, that I beg of God 
to grant mo to spend with her an endless life in everlasting 



Joy. Ask her to think of us and pray for us, as I desire to 
do respecting you all. 

I received a letter from Barry, dated Liverpool. He could 
not make out to visit us at this time, which was a disap- 
pointment, as I had set my heart on seeing him. He has 
been engaged by Mr. Comian, with whom he was before, I 
think. I trust he will be kept by the almighty power of God 
from sin, and united to the holy Saviour. I am quite uncer- 
tain how or when to get this epistle forwarded, but write that 
it may be ready for the first opportunity. 

My needlework is at a standstill because of a suppuration 
in my right thumb, which has not entirely left me, and I am 
taking advantage of the time to gratify myself in writing to 
dear friends. 

I heard from Shelburne some time ago. They were in 
expectation of Mr. Donald's arrival, but had not seen him. 
I hope he and all with whom we were acquainted in Halifax 
arc well. Be so kind as to give our affectionate remem- 
brances to those whom you may meet, ever tendering our 
best love to the circle around vour father's board, lasting as 
life itself in the recollection of the kindness we experienced 

The children are often enquiring about you, constantly 
regarding you as a beloved brother. Indeed, I must ever 
look upon you as my own, so very dear have you become to 
me. Mr. Lang, I know, takes a deep heart interest in you, 
so do let us hear from you frequently, and accept the faithful 
affection of, my own dear William, ^ 

Your truly attached friend, 

A. B. Lang. 

[On the death of his mother.] 

Halifax, N. S., Odoher 23rd, 1850. 
:My DvAii Mrs. L-VNG. — I may truly say tl:ie memory of 
vour fi-iendshin is verv dear to me. You have in affection 


and love boon to me a mother. You shared this feeling with- 
out it being less towards her from whom in earliest infancy 
I received my nourishment, and in boyhood my instructions, 
and witli whom I took sweet counsel in my manliood, but 
with whom 1 will counsel no more. She has departed; she 
died the death of the righteous. This happened in tlie 
evening of the 21st inst., accompanied with all the blessings 
with which God in His mercy favours us fallen mortals. Her 
illness was very short. On Friday, three day* before her 
death, she took a cold from handling a parcel of damp 
clothes. This caused her tu be somewhat unwell on Friday 
evening, but on Saturday she was better, and not until Sun- 
day evening did Kate become alarmed. 1 did not hear of 
her dangerous state until Monday morning, when I hastened 
to her bedside. Altlwugli her body was in pain, for the cold 
had settled in the bowels and caused inflammation, yet her 
head was clear and free from pain. 

She said, " William, let this be sanctified to you. Search 
the Scriptures." She spoke of her trust in Jesus. She did 
not wish to live, she was so happy. God was so merciful to 
her to take her first. I asked her for forgiveness of all my 
offences. She said she had nothing to forgive; I had been a 
dutiful son to her. 

After that time I did not speak with her. She spoke to 
some of us all through the day with such farewell admonitions 
as each will clierish. and at seven o'clock in the evening, the 
bright autumn day had departed, the moon had risen and 
slionc clearly, all was still and beautiful as autumn evening 
ever was, when the jsain of lier disease ceased, and we gath- 
ered around to see her die. It was a solemn and affecting 
sight to see the Christ-sustained mother in Israel departing 
from among us. Ilcr husband and her children were around 
her. God in 11 is mercy spared her the death struggle, each 
breath came feebler and more feeble, the voice sunk into its 
last dying cadence, the eyes lost their light, and my mother 
was no more. 


Her body is with us, but the soul was borne to Him in 
whom she had an abiding faith. Hers was no hurried ac- 
quaintance witli Christ; decided and firm •was her faith; her 
character in all things was such, and in her religion it was 
the same. In a few hours we deposit her body in the grave. 
I mourn for her, not for her death, but because in this world I 
shall never see her again. Her word and precept will be with 
me only in memory. 

I pray for my father, that God sustain him in this his 
hour of affliction, and that hi^ trust is with Him who thus 
prepare»st us for Him.self. 

Catherine will miss our mother very much, and upon her, 
my sweet sister, will devolve the charge and care of our father 
and his household. Sly mother had much faith in leaving 
her family. God Isad spared her until we had grown to the 
estate of men and women. Her teachings had taken root; 
her counsel will yet be with us. 

My wife and children are welL I pray that God be with 
you and your partner, and spare you long to your family, and 
that when you come to die, the joy of seeing the care of your 
cliildren blessed, and they all at man's estate may be yours, 
and in the^e earthly blessings we may see a sign of God's 
favour. ....... 

W. J. S. 

[Oil \V. J. Stairs retirement from the Presidency of the Union Bi\uk.] 

Dear Mr. Stairs. — Remembering your many acts of 
kindness and good advice so often received by many of them 
from you, when presiding over them, I am asked by the staff 
of the Bank to send you the acc/ompanying picture as a slight 
token of the high esteem entertained by them all towards 
yourself; and to express their heartfelt wish that you and 
Mrs. Stairs may be long spared in health and happiness. 

With many regards, 

Yours truly, 

May 16th, 1898. E. L. Thorne. Cashier. 



Halifax, May 17th, 1898. 

Dear Mr. Thorne, — It was a most pleasing surprise to 
me, the receiving so grandly gotten np picture, the likenesses 
of your good self, llr. Strickland, and the much trusted 
agents of tlio Bank, and the numerous 3'oung men helping you 
in the conducting of the affairs of the Bank. 

In your faithful services to the Bank you and they are 
a.'< faithfully serving the public. 

I believe tlie interests are mutual. Have it so, and keep 
it so. and I have no fears of the well-doing of our institution; 
and :o the youngest clerk, a,s well as to tiie trusted agents, I 
wouUl say. Be faithful and patient. 

I'e sure men will take note of vou, and an enlargement 
of services will be yours. 

There is a large world outside tlie Union Bank. 

T.Irs. Stairs is quite touch.ed with your thoughtfulness 
towards one who lias led you, and joins uie in warmest wishes 
for the good and happiness of you all. Believe me, 

Yours very sinc-erely, 

W. J. Stairs. 
'i'o r]. L. Thorno, Esq., and the many gentlemen engaged in 
ilie mana-rement of the Union Bank. 

Halifax, X. S., April 27fh, 1903. 

Bear Mr. Carmichael, — You and I l)elon:,f to a set now 
fast ebbing away. Our paths have, in some ways, l)eon on 
the same line. Wlien they changed, it was l^ccause both of us 
trusted the outlook before tlie country. Whicli course was 
positive and wliich negative I cannot venture to assume. It 
I:r.s now gom; into tlie past. 

My feeling is God hless you, and may tlie (piiet of your 
remaining days be as liappy as any era of your past and good 


Excuse personalities; it is not often we are called upon to 
express th-em. 

My respects to James D. MacGregor — may he live long 
and keep the good name he has secured. 

With regards to your daughter. 

Yours sincerely, 

W. J. Stairs. 

The Senate Crest, CANADA. 

New Glasgow, 29th April, 1903. 
My Dear Mr. Stairs, — I thank you for your kind letter 
of 37th. I confess that I prize higlily the good opinion of 
those whom I esteem, and your kind note calls to memory 
how few there are remaining of the class I have in my mind 
as contemporaries. Indeed, yourself and our mutual friend 
the Lieutenant-Governor are, I believe, the only ones remain- 
ing. Some few we^^ks ago I purpased visiting the City, and 
told your sons, John and George, who called upon me, of my 
intention^ but a slight indisposition interposed and prevented 
my doing so. 

I am at present wonderfully well, and certainly do not 
feel old ; but any slight physical exertion exhausts me. 

With my very kindest remembrances t^ Mrs. Stairs, I 

Yours sincerely, 

J. Carmichael. 

14 Ashbourn Eoad, Derby, 2nd June, 18^5. 
My Dear Sir, — Your kind and affectionate letter reached 
me this morning, just as I was alwut to set off for Northamp- 
ton, and I read it with no ordinary feeling. It is not per- 
haps tliat Susan changes her situation and name, because to 
do so occurs to most females, but she has sustained a position 
since the death of her mother so singular and import-ant to 


me and my family, that I feel almost incapable of expressing 
my feelings at tlie idea of a separation. 

If any judgTiient can be formed of the character of a wife 
from the manner in which the duties of daughter and sister 
have been performed, I can liave no fear for Susan, and once 
for all I shall say that she is made up of affection and truth. 
She luis been my comfort, and may tlie Almighty in great 
mercy be with and bless you both. 

I cannot write much, and have no letter from Susan, and 
fear that she may have written to me at Kendal. If so, I 
may have no chance of answering it, a.s I should now be off 
to open, or to make one at the oi[Xining of a railway. I wish 
most earnestly that I might be excused. 

Apply at once on your reaching Liverpool to Messrs. I. 
Ingraham & Co., but if possible I will be there when you land. 
If I am not there, Mr. Jones, formerly of the Dockyard in 
Halifax, will nux^t you; but 1 earnestly trust to meet you 
myself. We are here in the centre of a tremendous business 
with contracts to the extent of about six millions. We have 
six thousand men at work between Lanca.ster and Carl- 
isle, and ToG horses; and if Parliament decides with resj^ect 
to other lines before winter, we shall have ^H),000 men at 

This we make headquarters for the present, but it is more 
than probable that I shiill go to Scotland in a few wtvks. 

My kindest respects to your good father and mother. 
Please to say that 1 will writi' to them when I can spare a few 
minutes. I have much to say, but must write a line to Susan 
and then off. 

Be assured that your welfare is near my heart. We have 
large connections here who wi!l receive you with more than 
kindne-ss, and your visit will please them much. 

Verv sincerelv and affectionately, 

John Morrow. 

XoTE. — This letter shews the magnitude of the work in 
the north of England in which Mr. Morrow was then engaged. 


!l. S.J 

C, Campbell. 

By His Excellency Lieutenant-General 

Knight Commander of the Most Honorable Military Order of 
the Bath, Lieutenant-Governor, and Commander-in-Chief , 
in and over Her Majesty's Province of Nova Scotia and 
its Dependencies, &c., &c., &c. 

To William J. Stairs^ Gentleman. 
Greeting : 

By Virtue of the Fower and Authority to me given and 
granted by Her Majesty, I do hereby (during pleasure) con- 
stitute and appoint you to be Second Lieutenant in the 4th 
Halifax Eegiment of Militia. You are therefore duly to exer- 
cise as well tlie Inferior Officers as Private Men of that Bat- 
talion in Arms, and to use your utmost endeavours to keep 
them in good order and discipline, and I do hereby command 
them to obey you as tlieir 2nd Lieutenant, and you are to 
observe and follow such Orders and Instructions as you shall 
from time to time receive from myself, your Lieutenant- 
Colonel or any other your Superior Officer, according to the 
Laws and Eegulations already made, or that shall hereafter be 
made, for tl^.c ]\lilitia of this Province. 

Given under my Hand and Seal at Arms, at Halifax, this 
thirtieth day of April, 1S39, in the second year of Her 
Majesty's reign. 

By His Eixcellency's Command, 

EuPERT D. George, 

Entered in tl^e Adit. Gen. Office. 

Ed. Wallace, A. G. M. 


[L. S.J 

rroviuce ol Nova Scotia. 

By His Excellency Colonel 


K nig Jit, K nigh I Commander of the Orders of Saint Ferdi- 
nand and of Charles the Third of Spain, Lieutenant- 
Governor and Coimnander-in-Chief , in and over Her 
Majesty's Province of Nova Scotia and its Dependencies, 
Chancellor of the same, &c., &c., &c. 

To William J. Stairs, Esquire, 

By Virtue of tlie authority to nie granted by Her MajevSty, 
I do lierel)y, during pleasure, constitute and appoint you to 
be a First Lieutenant in the 4th Halifax Eegiment of Militia. 

You are tlierefore to observe and follow such Orders and 
Instructions as you shall from time to time receive from my- 
self, your Lieutenant-Colonel, or any otlier your superior 
Officer, according to the I-iaws and Regulations already made, 
or that shall hereafter be made, for the Militia of this Pro- 
vince; and you nie to use your utmost endeavours to keep in 
good order and discipline the subordinate Officers and men 
of the said regiment, and tl;ey are hereby commanded to obey 
you as a First Lieutenant of the said Regiment. 

Given under my Hand and Seal at Arms, at Halifax, this 
seventh day of May. in the seventeenth year of Her 
Majesty's Reign, A. T)., 1851,. 

By His Ebfcellency's Command. 

Lewis M. Wilkins. 
Ed. Wallace, 
Entered in tb.e Adjut;int General's Office. 


[L. S.J 

Province of Nova IScotia. Normaxdy. 

By His Excellency the Right Honorable 


Lieutenani-Governor and Commander-in-Chief iii and over 
Iter Majesty's Province of Nova Scotia and its Depen- 
dencies, &c., &c., &c. 

To Capt. W. J. Stairs, 
Greeting : 

By Virtue of the authority to me granted by Her Majesty, 
I do here1)y. during pleasure, constitute and appoint you to 
be Lieut.-Colonel in the Ninth Regiment, Halifax County, 
Nova Scotia, Militia. 

You are therefore to oljserve and follow such Orders and 
Instructions as you sliall from time to time receive from me 
or any other your Superior Officer, according to the Laws and 
Regulations already made, or that shall hereafter be made, for 
the Militia of this Province; and you are to use your utmost 
endeavours to keep in good order and discipline the Subordi- 
nate Officers and J\len of said Corps, and they are hereby com- 
manded to obev vou as Lieut.-Colonel. 

Given under mij Hand and Seal at Arms at Halifax, this 
twenty-third day of SeptemMr, in the twenty-sixth year of 
Her Majesty's reign, and in tJie year of Our Lord One 
Thousand Eight Hundred and Sia-ty-two. 

By His Excellency's Command, 

Wm. H. Keating, 
Deputy Secretary. 
R. B. Sinclair, A. G. M. 

Entered in the Adiutant General's Office. 



Among our dear fatlier's papers was found the following 
tribute to Mr. Howe^ whom he so dearly Joved : 

" Howe died of a broken heart, so deeply wounded by those 
who had been his friends and should have judged him as 
stirred by higher motives than anything personal to himself. 
They might have trusted him ; he saw further than they did. 
But broken-hearted as he was, he felt sure he had acted rightly 
by his country, and dying had the comfort of an approving 

" He never said of them the bitter word, he loved them too 
deeply, was too much hurt to say other than ' tliey knew not 
what they did.' 

" That which was to them the action of a false man was 
the setting aside of himself as a party and accepting the Con- 
federation of the Provinces. It was the grandest act of his 
public life. Had he done otherwise he would have wrecked 
(for his lifetime at least) the important position Canada now 
occupies in the empire and in the world affairs." 

Fairfield, April 2Stli, ISGO. 
My Dear tSTAiRS, — You will see by the enclose<l corres- 
pondence that the vacant seat in the senate has been oifered 
to and declined by our friend Northup. I regret his decision 
as I know you will. 

Though you are much engrossed with a large business 
vastly extended by the great work just added to our industry, 
I trust that you may bo able to accept the seat, which it gives 
me great pleasure to tender, for these ainong otJier reasons. 

1st. Because your commovcial knowledge would be of 
great value to the government and the legislature by whom 
our trade ^nll hereafter be regulated; and 


2nd. Because, having served as chairman of the associa- 
tion which conducted the opposition to the British North 
America Act while there was a chance of its repeal, you repre- 
sent all those who now have loyally determined to give the 
Act a trial. 

I think your appointment would be recognized as suitable 
and judicious by all parties, and will be glad to be enabled to 
submit your name to the Cabinet. 

Believe me, my dear Stairs, yours truly, 

Joseph Howe, 

Halifax, May 3rd, 1869. 

My Dear Mr. Howe, — I have to thank you for your kind 
note of the 28t]i April, in which you set forth your reasons 
why you would like to submit my name to the Cabinet as 
occupant of the vacant seat in the Senate. 

Had I command of sufficient leisure it would have given 
me much satisfaction to liave joined that body of the legis- 
lature, and have given my best services to general work, and 
more especially represent there our Nova Scotia interests ; but 
as it is, I must decline, and be content with sending my best 
wishes for the good of the country. 

Believe me, yours truly, 

W. J. Stairs. 


Fro)u ''' [[alifax Citizen," July 1st, 1SG5. 

Presentation' Meeting held at jMh. \V. J. Stairs", 

19 SoL'TH Street. 

An interesting reunion took place at the residence of Win. 
J. Stairs, Esq., on Tlmrsday evening, where a large numb<^r 
of persons assembled for the purpose of welcoming Mr. and 
Mrs. Geddic on their return from Canada, and of presenting 
to that lady a su!)st;intial token of the estimation in which 
they held her labours in the mission field, which she has occu- 
pied with her husl^and for eighteen years. Among the com- 
pany present were many warndy attached jx'rsonal acquaint- 
ances of Mr. and Mrs. (ieddie, besides a number of Christian 
friends from the various evangelical denominations in tlie 
City, who take a deep interest in the work in which these 
devoted missionaries have been engaged. After an hour spent 
in pleasant social intercourse, the Eev. Dr. Bayne, of Prince 
Street Church, Pictou, offered up a lirief prayer, and tlien 
called on the llev. George M. Grant, of St. Mattliew's Church, 
to state the object of the meeting. Mr. Grant responded to 
tl.e call in the following terms: 

" I supposi' that it is owing to the fact of my being Moder- 
ator of the Synod of the Church of Scotland that I have been 
asked to state formally the object of our meeting. — not that 
such, re-unions require explanations, for in themselves they are 
pleasant, aiul 1 wish tliat they took ])lace oftener. but in this 
case it !ia])pt'ns that the recV-;on of our meeting is better than 
the meeting itself. And it is iu)t unheeoniing that the repre- 
sentative of a sister church should take such a part on this 
occasion, for it is one that reaches beyond denominationalism 
out to humanity ami Christianity. We are met to honour 
womanhood in the person of a true woman. 

"Since Mr. Gcddie arrived in our luidst, it has been felt by 
many that in the universal appreciation of his work, the ser- 
vices of her to wl'oin he has always attributed so much of his 
euccess have been sometimes overlooked. Actuated by this 
feeling, some ladies resolved to present to Mrs. Geddie a small 


testimonial of their esteem and affection. Had publicity been 
given to this intention, a much larger sum than that to be now 
presented would have been collected, but a,s the value would 
have been lessened by anything like solicitation or display, the 
v^hole matter was managed so quietly that few persons beyond 
the subscribers had heard that such a thing was contemplated. 
Even this public presentation would have been avoided had 
not the meeting of the Synods in Halifax suggested the pro- 
priety of friends of missions personally paying their respects 
to those who under God have done so much honour to Nova 
Scotia and our common Christianity. We trust that on this 
account Mrs. Geddie will pardon an open procedure that other- 
wise might appear ostentatious. 

"But no apology is required for the Churches giving tan- 
gible expression to the sentiments they feel for one whom they 
delight to honour. Even when children have done well the 
parents do not think it wrong to reward them by gift^, but in 
every case the true child thinks more of the giver than of the 
gift. Even so we pray Mrs. Geddie to look little at our offer- 
ing, but to believe that it come,s from warm, loving Christian 

"As all tlie credit for the inception and the carrying out this 
work belongs to Mrs. Stairs, I have much pleasure in introduc- 
ing her to present the result of it." 

Mrs. Stairs then read the following brief address, and 
handed to Mrs. Geddie at the same time a purse containing the 
sum named, together with the subscription list containing the 
names of the contributors: 

Halifax, N. S.. June 29th. 1865. 

My Dear Mrs. Geddie. — 

During the many long years of your absence from home 
and friends, you liave been, as it were, present with us, and we 
have often wondered if we should be spared to see your face, 
and give you a welcome to our native land. 

When you came among us and we heard from you an 
account of the manner in which you had spent a large part of 


your life, and when we refiocted upon the many trials, dangers 
and privations you must have pa^^sed through, our hearts were 
tilled with admiration of your patience and fortitude ; for we, 
your countrywomen, had spent the same years safely in our 
homes, in the enjoyment of all the comforts and blassings of 
civilized life. 

When we considered our many comforts, we remembered 
how you had often been in want of wliat we look upon as the 
recesvsaries of life. 

These thoughte were in all our minds, and it only needed 
some one to give them utterance, to receive a most kindly 
answer, — and tlicse your friends now present, are some of 
those who have given expression to their feeling in the shape 
of an offering of which 1 am requested to ask your acceptance. 

When you read tliis paper, I know you will be pleased to 
observe that your early friends in Pictou and New Glasgow 
have been the most generous contri1)utors. and my dear Mrs. 
Geddie, we found among our friends of the Church of Scot- 
land, and of the Wesleyan and Baptist Churches, an earnest 
willingness to contribute to this token of regard. 

I beg you will accept the sum of £403 Is. 3d., with our 
best wishes for the health and happiness of Mr. Geddie. your- 
self and family. 

At the request of l\lrs. Gedtiie, the Rev. James Waddell, 
an early and warm friend of the Mission, and the first Secre- 
tar\- of the Mission Board, read her reply as follows : 

My Dear Mrs Stairs, — 

When we so providentially mot on the wide Atlantic, I 
had no idea to what extent our acquaintance would grow. Your 
kind hospitality accorded to us on our arrival we felt to be 
very precious, and shall always cherish it in fond rememl)rance. 
But this meeting, these kindly greetings, and this substantial 
token of your sympathy and resjard, greatly enhance our esti- 
mate of _your friendshi]i and esteem. You do well, my dear 
Mrs. Stairs and Christian friends, to appreciate the prinleges 
of civilized and Christian life. They are more precious than 
you can well know. Nor do you mistake when you suppose 
that we have had trials and privations in heathen isles of the 
sea. We felt, oh how keenly did we feel our separation from 
the children, dear to us as our own souls; and we were often 


cast down in contemplation of the kind and amount of work 
we had to do. 

But as your condition at home is not all privilege, so 
neither has our mission life been all trial. It V/'as cheering 
to us to know that you remembered us at home — you sustained 
Ufi by your prayers — you strengthened our hands and encour- 
aged our hearts — your bounty provided for us; and if we 
endured privations it was not because you would have it so, 
but because our Father in Heaven knew that we required 
discipline at His hand. But He has sustained us when others 
fell. He has encouraged and blessed us in our work. He has 
brought us to the home of our youth in the multitude of His 
mercies, and given us favour in the sight of the people; and 
to Him who has all hearts imder His influence do we ascribe 
this display of your beneficent regards. 

-t'or your kind utterances and generous thoughts concerning 
us among our friends, my dear Mrs. Stairs, for the cheerful 
response to your appe^Tl by those we love in Pictou and ISTew 
Glasgow and among other Christian denominations, we arc 
heartily grateful. 

It has been one of the happy experiences of our missionary 
life t})at we have l>een brought into intimate correspondence 
with the ministry and people of other churches, and 3'ou do 
not need to be told that we are all brothers and sisters on mis- 
sionary ground. 

For you, my dear Mrs. Stairs, and your kind husband and 
other frienrls associated with, you in this valued testimonial, 
Mr. Geddie joins me in grateful acknowledgment, and in 
commending you and all you hold dear to the word of His 
grace, which is able to build you up and give you an inheri- 
tance among them that are sanctified. 

Charlotte L. Geddie. 

Mr. Geddie then being called on, responded to the address, 
in a few brief and touching sentences, of which the following 
is the purport: 

Dear Christian Friends, — 

There are occasions when silence is more expressive than 
language, and this appears to me to be one of these. Never- 
theless, I feel that I ought to say a few words lest silence 
should be misunderstood. The sympathy shown to Mrs. 


Ceddic and myself since our return, has taken us both by sur- 
prise, and wo fc«el humbled rather than elated by it, a.s we are 
unconscious of having done anything to entitle us to it. It is 
tiue, indeed, that it has been our privilege to labor for Christ 
among the I'.eathen for years, but we have already had our 
highest earthly reward in seeing the happy change which by 
liod's blessing has taken place among them. 

We found tlio Aneiteumese worshippers of false deities, 
but we left them worshippers of the only living and true God. 
We found them naked and painted savages, but we left them 
clothed, and many, we ho})e, sitting at the feet of Jesus in 
their right mintls. We found them without a written word 
in their own language, but we left them with the whole of the 
Xew Testament and some portions of the Old in their own 
tongue. We found tliem iiidulging in tlio practice of every 
crime, but v^e left theiu a comparatively moral people. We 
f(/und them living for this world only, but it has been our 
privilege to witness many happy death-bed scenes, and we left 
not a few wliom we hope to meet in Heaven. 

During the ' arly years of our mission wo were exposed to 
many trials, privations and dangers, but (lod has lu-imglLt us 
througli tliciii Jill. Tlie subject of pecuniary support lias, I 
feel thankful to (Jod, never cost us a thought, for we knew we 
s<'rve-d a good Master, who sends none to warfare <^n his own 
charge. We are prepared, by past experience, to go forth again 
in the work which we love, assured that our bread shall be 
given to us, and our water made sure, and that we shall be 
sustained by God under any future trials which may fall to 
our lot. 

It is our iutention. in a few months, to leave friends and 
country forcNcr. If we >should be spared to reach our distant 
home in the islands, the kindness of Xova Scotia friends will 
form the tlieme of uianv ]d(>asing and grateful Iheuglits and 
conversations. When eontin(>nts and oct^ans sliall once more 
intervene between us, we ask to l*o remetubered by you in your 
prayers. As we neither eixp^Y-t nor desire to return to our 
native country, it is our earnest prayer that it may be your 
h.ap]u'ness and ours to meet in Heaven with the redeemed 
from every land. 

This closed the presentation proceedings, and another hour 
was spent in social intercourse and conv(Tsation. after which 
the company se])nrated, all present carrying away with them 


kindly recollections of tlieir mission friends. Mr. and Mrs. 
Geddie are now about to return to the field of labour in which 
they have already spent eighteen years of ardent, self-sacri- 
ficing toil — a field of labour from which they do not expect, 
and probably never will return. But in leaving their native 
land, never to see it again, they will be followed by the warm- 
est regards of thousands of Christian friends who esteem and 
honour them for the work to which they have so successfully 
devoted themselves, and witli many of whom this sentiment 
IS deepened and intensified by feelings of personal attachment 
— feelings that have animated all who were privileged to enjoy 
a few liours of personal intercourse with them. 

[Found in our Fathers pocketbook.] 


There is a cahn tlie poor in Spirit know 
That softens sorrow and tliat sweetens woe. 
There is a pes^ce that dwells within the breast 
When all without is stormy and distressed. 
There is a light that gilds the darkest hour 
When danger threatens and when tempests lower. 
Tliat calm to earth, and hope, and love is given, 
That i)eace remains wiien all be.side is riven, 
That light shines down to jnan direct from Heaven. 

[Written by Fatlicr.] 


A child ha~s l>een Ixjrn — Red<^mer, Lord of all. 

Equal to God as son to a father, 

Equal to man as brother to brother, — 

The Babe, the Boy, tlie Suffering Man, 

Has come and gone, 

I^oing life's M-ork — and more, 

A.s Heaven is higher than the earth, 

So much alxive us. 

In love and burden-bearing has He been 

Our Priest, is now our Judge and King; 

And yet two-fold he pleadeth, ere he judgeth, 

" Take Me for him." 

Raise, raii=ve your voice in praise; 

Clirist has l)een born. 


[;From Halifax Herald.] 


Hon. William J. Stairs. 

No. 3. 

The sketch of the SUiirs family, which appeared in The 
Herald about two years ago. prepared the way for selecting 
William J, Stairs as the tliird man in the sketches held up 
as representative's of the clashes to which the city is indebted 
for the steady uplifting through which it has passed till it 
has reached its present high level. 

Mr. Stairs inherited far more than a biusiness stiind, its 
capital and trade. Had this been the ?um total of his in- 
heritance, his business career would have been short and 
disastrous. Adde;! to the material legacies which fell into 
Iiis hands, were the old-time sentiments and habits of busi- 
ness life. The very blood which flows in his veins is instinct 
witli integrity, steel-true purpose, patience and industry. 

The day dreams of vaulting with a bound into great for- 
tunes, in which to revel and riot, had not bec-ome a delusion 
to crazy young men looking forward to a business career till 
years after Mr. Stairs had settled down to work on correc-t 
business habits and sound principles. 

Dazzling show, club-room fellowship, and time and money 
worse than wasted in social functions, were abhorred and 
shunned by the forefathers of the Stiirs family. 

The atmosphere W. J. Stairs breathed from the dawn of 
Ills intelligence till he entered, as the successor of his father, 
upon his business career, was one of love for work, a.s well as 
commercial knowledge and ambition. He belongs to the 
class to whom the world is indebted for enlarging the horizon 
of the business man. His has not been a crystallized conser- 
vatism, either in politics or commerce. He has been in both 
these departments a liberal-conservative. In this respect he 
followed in the steps of those who went before him. But he 



walked not in the light of example merely, but in the light of 
Ills o^\'n judgment. His father did not sacrifice himself to a 
fenced-o2 specialty, neither has the son done so. This policy 
is passing on to the third generation. But neither father nor 
son has been a mere adventurer. They have looked with one 
eye on the dazzling promises of new openings, and have stead- 
ily kept the other eye on the existing business, its capital and 
well-being. Branches of business multiplying, a bank is 
founded, sliips are buUt and managed, rope works and iron 
works go into operation. 

As a conservative, safe business man, and also as a pioneer, 
Mr. Stairs can be held up as a benefactor to his city and 
country, and as a model for the oncoming generation. 

His father was a lover of justice and liberty. Eighteous 
indignation filled his heart when he saw the assmiiption of the 
class cliques in the government of the comitry. His heart, 
head and purse went with Huntingdon and Howe in the 
memorable fights for t]:e people's rights in responsible gov- 
ermnent. Not a few men selected by the cro-mi's represen- 
tative, had the divine right of government, but the people 
and their representatives. His time and purse were put under 
tribute to secure tliese objects. A hater of t}Tanny is W. J. 
Stairs by heredity and conviction. At Confederation he gave 
tijne and money to make his views on this subject prevail, but 
so soon as ho saw the nndertakin;i could not succeed, he liad 
the honesty and the courage to abandon it, and give his 
influence to work out tlie dei-tiny of his country. His with- 
drawal from the contest after failure was certain is a lesson 
for public men and a stinging rebuke to those who continued 
their course in repeal and commercial union schemes. Mr. 
Stairs is not the man to hold to an enterprise blinded by pre- 
judice and passion. His head is too clear for that. Judgment 
and conscience would block his wav. 

In business and in all his life's labours it is plain that he 
has been governed by principle and not by mere blind per- 


sistency. Swift and clear iu liLs thinking, prompt and 
independent in iiction, Mr. Stairs luis done a good da/s work, 
and is still at it — work not I'or Jiinisclf alone, but for his 
country, and especially his native city as well. 

Por those who have tl.e ability and ambition for some 
single department of trade, j\lr. Stairs may be taken as a 
pattern. His mental e(}ui})iiK'nt is not of the ordinary type. 
His face indicates a classical type of mind. Had it been his 
lot to take a university course, and had the literary mania 
seized him, he would liave gone into tl.c })osition of a college 
presidency, caiTied thcrt-, not by self-seeking, but by destiny 
and the eternal fitness of things. His range of thought luis 
been broad and searching. The great ])rinciple,s underlying 
the Christian system arc the principles wliich have moulded 
and guided Ms life. Nor has Mr. Stairs failed to exercise an 
intelligent benevolence. The St. John fire in 1877 touched 
liis iieart. He was one of the first to respond witli a large 
contribution. Atany other instances might !)e added. The 
higher educaticjn has found in 1dm a friend and helper. Again 
and again he has given largely to the institution at Horton, 
where he completed his school stu<lies. Dalliousie, too, has 
had his wise counsels and generous gifts. Back of all these 
laboui-s and this beneficence, which have characterized the 
life of ■\Ir. Stairs, there has been rock-like integrity essential 
to the foundation of character and conduct, and essential to 
the life of men, of cities and of countries. 


[£veni7ig Mail, Jwae 17, i<S'.95.] 

Hundreds paid their respects to Mr. and Mrs. Stairs yes- 
terday at their residence, Soutli Street. The place looked 
beautiful, decorated with plants, flowers, etc. The callers 
were received in the spacious drawing room and refreshments 
were served in the large dining room. 

There were no invited guests excepting those who were 
present at the wedding fifty years ago. But few who were 
present are now alive, the survivors being: — Miss Stairs, 
North ^Vest Arm; Mrs. George Troop, Mrs. Duffus, John 
Duffus and William Duifus. The latter was tlien four year.s 

Among those who were present at the anniversary on 
Sunday at tlie residence were Air. and Mrs. Stairs' six sons, 
one daughter (Mrs. Townend), and twenty-four grand- 
children. Among otliers present were Miss Stairs, Mr. and 
Mrs. George Troop, Miss Sutherland, Mrs. J. Petrie Street 
and liev. A. J. Townend. 

In tl:;e aiteinoon Mr. W. J. Stairs gave an address in 
which reference was made to his half century of wedded life 
and the changes that had occurred during that time. 

He was followed by tlie \\q\. Mr. Townend, who held a 
short service. He took for his text Ephesians 3rd, 15th verse: 
" Of whom tlie v iicJe family in Heaven and earth is named." 

As a memento ui the occasion Mr. and Mrs. Stairs pre- 
sented to each of tiieir sons a sovereign beautifully engraved, 
giving the name of the donors, the dai^s of their birth, date 
of r.iarriage and tlie dat^^ of the 50th anniversary of their 
wedding. The venerable couple received many handsome 
prasents, including the following: — 

Gold ice cream slice, a dozen gold spoons and dish in a hand- 
some case, the interior fittings being wliite silk and gold. 
This was the gift of tlie six sons — John, James, Edward 
and George, Halifax; Herbert, Cornwallis, and Gavin, 


Pair very handsome gold candelabra, bearing the following 

inscription : " To Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Stairs, on the 50th 

anniversary of their marriage, from the officials of the 

Union Bank of Halifax, June 16, 1895." 
Gold rimmed reading glasses — Lieutenant-Governor and 

Mrs. Daly. 
Set gold salt cellars and spoons — Miss Kidston, Scotland. 
Case of gold te^ispoons — George Foote, Dartmouth. 
Basket of roses— Mr. and :Mrs. J. F. Kenny. 
Basket of flowers— Hon. Mr. and Mrs. H. H. Fuller. 
Silver and gold gTape stand and gold scissors — Eev. Mr. and 

Mrs. Townend. 
Gold pair scissors — Miss McKenzie. 
Photo frame — Mr. Bessouett. 
Gold bonbon dish — Mrs. James Duffus. 
Flower candle shade — Miss Joan Stairs. 
Hand bouquet and rose cushion — Miss Sutherland. 
Vasas — Stanley Clarke, Brighton, England. 
Bouquets — The Misses Maggie and Mary Scott. 
Gold pen and case — Dr. and Mrs. Grey. 
Cut glass perfume bottle, gold ornamentation — Mrs. Augusta 

Gold pen and case — W. J. Stairs. 
Gold headed umbrella, suitably engraved — Directors of the 

Union Bank. 
Bonbon dish — George, Denis and Dorothy Stairs. 
Perfume bottle, gold ornamentation — Mrs. Duffus. 
Gold i)hoto frame — Dr. and ]\Irs. Slayter. 
Gold pencil and case — Susie Stairs. 
Worked slippers — Mrs. BiLshnell, England. 
Table spread worked in gold lace — Alice Eaton, Canard. 
Gold nugget — Geoffrey McColl, New Glasgow. 
Yellow silk mantel draper}', worked in gold — Mrs. John 

Gold pen and ca,«o — Mrs. George Troop, Dartmouth. 



Gold key ring — Dr. Fitch. The donor and Mr. Stairs were 
boys together at Horton. 

The presents included a gold-headed cane, wliich was 
accompanied by the following self-explanatory address : 

To W. J. Stairs, Esq. : 

Dear Sir, — We, the undersigned employees of the firm of 
William Stairs, Son & ]\Iorrow, wish to express our congratu- 
lations to you upon tliis the 50th anniversary of your wedding 
day, requesting you to accept as a memento of the occasion 
the accompanying stick, as a testimonial of the esteem in 
which you have always been held by your employees. Wishiag 
that Mrs. Stairs and yourself may still enjoy many 5'ears of 
happiness, we remain respectfully, 

Thomas Douglas, Samuel J. Porter, 

George J. Metzler, Ishi Priest, 

W. E. Leverman, J. F. Meehan, 

J. F. V^all, F. J. Wetmore, 

J. H. Gray, S. E. Guy, 

E. P. Forbes, W. X. Forbes, 

E. A. Saunders, J. F. Edwards, 

P. W. Baker, W. H. Eraser, 

S. W. Fidler, F. A. Scriven, 

T. W. Mullans, S. E. Brown, • 

Annie L. McDonald, James Murphy, 

W. J. Stairs. Jr., A. Hartigan, 

A. Hiltz, William Orman, 

William Kemp, J. Eose, 

Josepli McGill, Thomas Strachan, 
Georcre Ainsworthv. 

O t.' 

Mr. and Mrs. Stairs also received many telegrams and 
letters of congratulation. 



" Je.sns w;ii called and His disciples to the marriage." 
" Thou hast kept the good wine until now." 

—at. John. I! : 3 and 10. 

"Jesuit wa-s callfid." 'Ti.s all that'.s .said. 
We know He came. The prayer thxit'.s made 
For Hi.s sweet presence shall be blest 
And shall be answered. He will come 
At once, wlien summoned, to onr home. 
Our God, onr brother man, our guest. 

" And His disciples." Not alone 
He comes, but with communion 
And fellowship of saints — all one, 
All knit together by one tie 
In Him, tlirough Him one family; 
His fellow guests, and by Him known. 

The water made He wine to prove 
How common things, by HLs sweet love, 
May be transformed and glorified; 
Tlie simple, quiet, homely life 
Brings untohi gifts to man and wife, 
If He be ever by their side. 

" The good wine Thou liast ki>pt till now." 

The best gift was the, for how 

Could human vintages compare 

With what He made? And so life's cup 

Grows sweeter as we ilrink it up, 

If left entirely to His care. 

Oh, joyful Golden Wedding Day, 
What is it l)est that we should pray 
For you nov/ .standing side by side 
As you have marched these fifty years, 
Tlirougli joys and sorrows, hopes and fears — 
Your Jubilee of Groom and Bride? 

Christ at your feast! then pray we this: 
That Ho may lead you hand in hand, 
And lK)th your hands clasped clase in His 
Along this lower Cana land 
To that still brigliter, fairer Strand 
Wliicli boimds all earthly jubilees. 


Not only C;ina's Guest be here. 
But " His disciples " true and dear, 
To Hira, to you — not merely th€se 
Who gather round you both to-day, 
But those His kindness took away 
Along these fifty years, that they 
Might be spared earth's infirmities. 

For Cana's miracle we know 

Our prayer is answered long ago. 

Your Lord's abiding form Divine 

Has through your weiUock, now grown old, 

Poureil out His blessings manifold, 

For you turned water into wine. 

Yet one prayer have we left, tiiat through 
Tiie years which God may grant to you, 
Each one in turn He may endow 
With incre-ased blessings, till you say: 
" Oh, Lord, still brighter is our way. 
The good wine Thou hast kept till now." 

Doth not the promise stand confessed? 
Your children to call you blest; 
Your children's children at your knee, 
Riches and honor, length of days, 
Oh, Lord of Cana, Thine the praise. 
Shed down to-day Thy golden rays 
On this our Golden Jubilee. 

Taken from the HaUf ax Herald, Wednesday, June 19th, 1S05. For Mr. 
and Mrs. Stairs, on their Golden Wedding Bay, June 16th, 1895. 
— Written by Rer. A. J. Toumend. 


{Taken from " Tlie Recorder/' February 27th, 1906.) 


At his Eesidence^ South Street, this Morning at '('.30 

o'clock. — Was Promient as a Merchant, Bank 

President and Man op Affairs. 

" Week by week, yes, almost day by day, we are being con- 
stantly reminded that 

Tlie ii-lories of our blood and state 
Are shadows, not sukstantial things. 

" One ai'ter another of out fellow-men crosses the river to 
which all must at some time approacJi. Loved ones pass from 
their eartlily abode to dwell in the realms of the blest, where 
they may lay life's burdens down and be at rest. Some are 
called in youtli, others in middle life when in the very zenith 
of tlieir power, and when they have attained by tlie eye of 
sense and sight to the very period when they could be of 
greatest ser\dcc to tlie community, of pride to their families 
and of distinction for themselves. A few, spared to enjoy 
the beauties of old age and without the discomforts that some- 
times accompany length of days, pa.'Js to and fro amongst us, 
guiding stars as it were, living examples of energy, thrift, 
honesty, integrity and generosity for those who come after 


'Such a man wa^^ Honourable William J. Stairs, who, 
tliough witliin the last year much afflicted by the iniinuities 
of age, enjoyed all these. He entered behind the veil at 7.30 
o'clock thi.s morning. Mr. Stairs lived to a good old age, for 
on tlie 24th of September last he had reached his eighty-sixtJi 
birthday, and was now in his eighty-seventh year. Mr. Stairs 
was bom in Halifax in 1819, the son of William Stairs, whom 
many still remember for his sterling qualities. Early in life 
he embarked in business enterprise, and ultimately became 


one ol our most successful merciiaiit princes, Mr. Stairs was 
the founder of the hardware firm of Stairs, Son & Morrow. 
This imsiness was conducted for many years at the comer of 
George Street and Bedford Row, where is situated now the 
Weights and Measures and otlier oiSces. Some fifteen or 
more years ago the firm built and removed to the substantial 
structure on Lower Water street, below Sackville. In both 
places of business Mr. Stairs was most successful, and rapidly 
attained to considerable wealth. He was well known for 
adherence to strict business principles, and many an after- 
wards prosjieroiis merchant acquired under Hon. William J. 
Stairs traits of lousiness enterprise tliat served them well in 
after life. 

" Besides tlie hardware business, the firm which Mr. Stairs 
founded were proprietors of the Dartmouth Eopeworks, before 
that industry passed into the hands of the Dominion Cordage 
(Company. In his younger days Mr. Stairs was interested in 
many luisiness enterprises that flourished in the Province. He 
was a director of the Starr Manufacturing Company. The 
Union Bank of Halifax for over 33 years had the name of 
William J. Stairs on its directorate, and for 15 years he was 
its Tresident. In fact, it was only in 1898 that he relin- 
quished the duties of that responsible position. He was also 
a director for many years of tlie old Halifax Gas Light Co. 
Interested in the general welfare of the community, he in 
earlier days took an active part in tlie delil)erations of tlie 
Halifax Chamber of Commerce, and his business acumen was 
frequently given expression to at the meetings of the Exe- 

" Mr. Stairs^ interests, however, knew a wider range than 
tlie mere mercantile life of the city. He had been for years a 
member of the Point Pleasant Park Commission, and took 
much interest and pride in that charming spot, which is one 
of the great attractions of this city by the sea. 

" Generous in his gifts, Mr. Stairs was ever a willing con- 
tributor to the needs of the poor and needy, and the many 


charitable Lik?titiitions of the tity found tlie deceased ever ready 
to respond to deserving calls. Mr. Stairs has, since early in 
its life as a church, been identified with Fort Massey Presby- 
terian Cliurch. Like the Hon. Joseph Howe, Mr. Stairs was 
a Sandemanian, a sect that at one time had a goodly following 
in this community, and numbered among its adherents several 
notable men such a.s these. To Fort Massey Mr. Stairs has 
always been a generous and warm-hearted contributor. He 
gave largely to the building fund, and to the ordinary expenses 
of the church, and was a constant attendant at its services. 
Absence from the city was about tlio only reason that, imtil 
the last year or so, caused Mr. Stairs and his aged wife to miss 
divine worship. The hand of death has, in the last few years, 
been very l)usy among the ranks of Fort Masse/s membership, 
having taken away many of her leading and active members. 

" Tn the political arena Mr. Stairs, in his younger days, 
took an outstanding part. Since 1871 he has been identified 
with the Conservative party, but even prior to that had taken 
a keen interest in tlie political affairs of the time. He was a 
disciple of Howe; witli him opposed Confederation, and after- 
wards accepted the better terms as agreed to between Sir John 
A. Maedonald and Mr. Howe. In 1S(;S he took, along with 
Willinm Annand, a seat in the TjCgislativo Council, and sat 
there for three years. Nearly all ]\[r. Stairs' contemporaries 
have passed away, and now he, too, has joined the vast 
majority in that better land. It was not permitted to him 
to see the monument erected to Howe's memory, but we 
remember with wl^it intense pleasure he viewed the prepared 
model that was exhibited in the Legislative Council Chamber 
winter before last, and expresv«cd his keen interest in the 
hope of a completed statue. 

" tUessed in his business enterprises, he was doubly blessed 
in I'is family life and relationship. A year and a-half ago he 
was called upon to mourn the loss of a loved son in Toronto. 
Shortly after that event tlie aged father was stricken with loss 
of vision, and wn'th his beloved spouse they have nursed the 


cominon grief in these latter days. Mr. Stairs retained his 
other faculties to the end, and could enjoy the sweet commu- 
nion of his children and grandchildren almost to the very 
last. His residence, 19 South Street, was essentially the 
home, and there the scattered families would unite in the 
enjoyment of their family life. Tender, affectionate and 
loving, he dearly loved to have his children about him, and 
the youngest as well as the oldest of his cliildren and grand- 
children were ever welcome in the family circle. 

" So blest a spot, tho' o'er the world we roam, 
We ne'er can hope to find as Home, Sweet Home. 

The Recorder noted among its marriage announcements of 
June, 1845, the following: 

" On Monday evening, the lOth inst., by the Rev. Charles 
i)e Wolfe, Mr. William J. Stairs to Susan, eldest daughter of 
John Morrow, Esq." 

" Mr. and Mrs. Stains were in the 61st year of their mar- 
ried life. On the 16th of June, 1895, their golden wedding 
was celebrated, and the members of the family and friends 
from far and near remembered thoughtfully the aged couple. 
The 1 'irectors of the Union Bank presented Mr. Stairs v/ith a 
gold-headed umbrella, and the officials of the Bank gave Mr. 
and Mrs. Stairs a very handsome candelabra. 

" Mr. Stairs is survived by his aged helpmeet m life, five 
isons and one daughter. The sons are Gteorge, Edward and 
James, resident in Halifax; Herbert, in Hillaton. Canard, 
Kings County, and Gavin in Solma, Hants Co. ; ^Fargaret, his 
only surviving daughter, is the wife of Rev. A. J. Townend, 
in Southsea, England. There were forty-five grandchildren, 
of whom forty-one survive, and there is one great grandchild, 
the daughter of Mrs. Loekyer. 

" Tho Recorder desires to extend to the bereaved family 
its deep sympathy in this hour of their affliction. 

" For none return from those quiet shores, 
Who cross with the boatman cold and pale; 
We hear the dip of the golden care, 
And catch a gleam of the snowy sail. 


And lo! they have passed from our yearning hearts, 

They cro&s the stream and have gone for aye. 

We may not siinder the veil apart 

That hides from our vision the gat-es of day; 

We only know that their barks no more 

jMay sail \vith us o'er life's stormy sea." 

[From -'The Herald."'] 



' " The Honoueeu Dead was a True Man op Business, a 

Faithful Friend, Who Did Much for His Day 

AND Feneration in Xova Scotia." 

" Twenty-nine years ago Hon. William J. Stairs gave a 
lecture in the old Temperance Hall. His subject was ' The 
Successful Merchant.' In this lecture he i)aid globing tri- 
butes to Samuel Cunard, Richard Kidston, Captain George 
McKenzie, of New Glasgow; John Tobin, John Duff us and 
others. They Avere held up as models for the young men of 
Halifax. Their qualities wore industry, integrity, steadfast- 
ness, and tJie well-balanced mind which, with faitli, trusts the 

" These very (jualities made W. J. Stairs one of tlie most 
promment merchants and highly respected men of Halifax. 
It is vain to look about for another link between the present 
generation and the past so well knoA\Ti as Mr. Stairs. In youth 
he breathed a moral atmosphere strong and stimulating. In 
it was a mixture of the culture, the courage, the chivalry and 
grand ideals of ihv. Loyalists, spiced and tempered witli the 
sentiments of s(^]f-re]iance and grand purpose for individual 
rights of the pre-Loyalists, the enterprising English, Irish and 
Scotsmen who came to this country in the early days of IMr. 
Stairs. The tendency of these days is to break with the spirit 


of the past, but wisdom was not born in the last half of the 
nineteenth century. The date of the death of the present 
generation was not the date of the death of all that was good 
and commendable. W. J. Stairs held fast to that which is 
good^ and put new tilings to the proof of searching examin- 
ation and rigid comparison. His was not indifferent 
to tlie education of his sons. W. J. attended the Dalliousie 
College Grammar School and Horton Academy, where he had 
for some of his schoolmates John P. Mott, P. C. Hill, Thomas 
Hill, Dr. Simon Fitch, Dr. J. B. DeWolf, rnd Hon. Edward 

" The Stairs family was connected by marriage with that of 
the present Lieutenant-Governor, Hon. A. G. Jones, the Mor- 
rows and the Duffuses. His father was a successfiil merchant, 
and at one time represented tlie County of Halifax in the Pro- 
vincial Legislature. Subsequently he was appointed to the 
Legislative Council. W. J. Stairs was not, it is true, obliged 
to originate a new business, but what is perhaps more difficult, 
it fell to his lot and that of his brother John, to perj:)etuate a 
successful business in changing conditions — the large business 
founded and sucoessfuJly carried on by his father. Every- 
where integrity and efficiency were written in large letters on 
the business of Stairs, Son & Morrow. Nor was Mr. Stairs 
unenterprising, as the Eope Works in Dartmouth testifies. 
The evening of his active life was spent as President of the 
Union Bank, founded by his father. The sudden death of 
his son, John F. Stairs, was a blow too heavy for his nerves. 
At that time his sight totally failed, and with a calm, delib- 
erate courage he spent liis last years in physical darkness, but 
in even l)righter mental and spiritual light, cheerful, submis- 
sive, hopeful and assured of future blessedness. Ask for the 
virtues of the home, of friendsMp, of business industry, wis- 
dom and integi'ity, of a large generous interest in his coun- 
try's welfare, of fidelity to duty, as in the case of his changing 
from an anti-Confederate to a Confederate, when he came to 
see that Confederation was the certain dastination of his coun- 


try, of respect for tilings sacred, among them tlie public 
vvorsliip of Almighty God, and we point with pride and assur- 
ance to \\ illiam J. Stairs, now lying at liis home still in death, 
loved by his faniily and his friends, and honoured wherever 
his name is known. From the true point of view, whatever 
may be the sadness felt by the family, especially by his heavily 
bereaved widow, with whom we in common with her host of 
friends, deeply sym])athizi', it is for tlie relatives near and 
remote, for all friends and fellow citizens, a day of gladness 
and rejoicing. ]t is a day of bereavement no doubt; but what 
a legacy has come to the widow, to tlie children, to the grand- 
children, to all descendants for all time, to citizens one and 
all, — tlie rich legacy of an unstained reputation, a genuine 
character, and tins nobly exhibited in all the departments in 
which he spent his long and useful life. Contrast such a life 
witli tliat of a mere v.reck, in chronicling whose death it l)e- 
comes necessary to remain silent or to search among the wrcM^k- 
age for a few cxcilleneies, and the causo for joy will stand 
out in bold relief, and call forth from every heart the 'thank 
God for tlie long life, excellent lalwurs and grand example of 
Hon. W. J. Stairs.' He h:\s not U^ft his city poorer tlian he 
found it; he has left it richer, 'i'he portrait of his character 
Diay be safely contemplated by men now in business and in 
the various jirofessions, 

" In W. .1. Stairs can be seen in a higher degree perhaps 
than in ajiy man of his generation the carefully elected 
excellencies of his predecessors, combined with tlie greater 
skill ;md activity of those of the present day. We have great 
pleasure in placing a white flower on the grave of this true 
man of business, this faithful friend and honoured Imsband 
and father." 


[Fro7>i " The Herald." 

" Laege Concourse of Citizens Followed the Iie^.laixs to 

THE Grave/'' 

The funeral of the late Hon. William J. Stairs took place 
jesterday afternoon, and was attended Ijj a large concourse 
of representative citizens. The casket with the honoured 
remains was plain, and, according to request, there were no 
floral offerings. The religious services at the house and grave 
were conducted by Rev. J. W. Falconer, pastor of Fort Massey 
Church, and by Rev. Dr. Forrest. The procession proceeded 
to Camp Hill Cemetery via Spring Garden Road and Summer 
street, thus avoiding the greater nrnount of snow that lay on 
Sack\ille street. Among those at the funeral from }X)ints 
outside the city were Hon. Senator MaeGregor: James A. 
Stairs, New Glasgow; Henry Sutherland, Sydney Mines; Wil- 
liam Sutherland, \Vi';dso"; Rev. Di-. Sedgwick. Tatamagouche ; 
J. S. McLennan, Sydney; and Mr. Sinclair, ISTew Glasgow. 
The members of the Legislative Council attended in a body, 
as also did the boys of the Industrial School (of which Mr. 
Stairs was a director), the members of the Point Pleasant 
Park Commission, tlie employees of Wm. St^iirs, Son & Mor- 
row, and the employees of the Dartmoutli Rope Works. The 
sons and grandsons from different parts of the province were 



The folluwing leittr sltcws ike grMi diffoculties encountered 
hij llerherl in his anxiety) to reach his father, during the 
almost imprecedcnted ivinter of 190Jf-5: 

TTiLLATON, Kings Co., N. S., August 3rd. 1006. 

Deak Geouge, — Your letter asking for an accoimt of my 
trip to Halifax in February, 1905, received. 

I was very anxious to get down t-o be with father, as Gavin 
had been storm-stayed about three weeks in Halifax. I startx^d 
on ilonday, February 20th, driving to PoTt William Station ; 
found the train was several hours late, so Mary, who was going 
too, returned home, while I went to Kentville on a working 
train to wait there for tlio express, which did not arrive until 
four O'clock next morning. We were notified that the train 
would leave at al^out seven o'clock Tuesday morning. The 
train \\i!s inade U}) with two engines ready to start on time, 
but the road had been filling up all night, and telegrams came 
in from all over the line that it would be impossible to get 
through. We all left the train and went back to the hotel to 
wait. At five o'clock in the evening I saw it was no use to 
wait, so telephoned home for a man to take one of the team 
horses and try and get over for me, which he did. and we got 
home some time in the night after a hard fight. On Wednes- 
day the railway department telephoned that they would start 
a train at tliroe o'clock; we missed this train at Port William, 
but she only got as far as Windsor. On Thursday morning, 
February 23rd, I started again, driving to Port William 
Station. I knew T could only get to Ellershouse by train, so 
took my snow-shoeing outfit and a. lunch. We arrived at 
Ellershouse without much delay, for the road had been 
shovelled out by the people of the difi'crent towns and country, 
college boys and professors joining in the work. Tlie railwav 


company liaving broken up all their ploughs, tlie road had to 
be cleared by hand. Lea\ing my heav}^ coat I vralked about 
half a mile, then strapped on my -snow-shoes and started for 
Mount Uniacke, a distance of ten miles. You could see noth- 
ing of the railway except tlie telegraph posts, the snow being 
over the fences. I found the walking veiy heavy, (the snow 
being very light), sinking at every footstep from four to seven 
inches, though I had a very wide pair of snow-shoes. Snow 
began to fall and the tliiermometer was at about three degrees 
above zero. I made about three miles by one o'clock, arriving 
at the section man's house, tlie only house on tlie line, and 
after resting an hour I started again. Snow was falling 
thickly, and a high wind v\-as dead against me, but I felt well 
and thought I would have no trouble in making the seven 
miles to j\Iount Uniacke. Meeting the section man shovelling 
snow, he advised me to tiu-n back, but I was anxious to get on, 
so continued on through the howling wilderness for about two 
miles, when I found hot flushes coming over me. I kept on 
another quarter of a mile, however, but then found myself 
inclined to stop and wanted to lie down. I now came to the 
conclusion that I would have to retrace ray steps. The section 
man was still working where I left him, and said he was glad 
to see n;e, as he felt sure I would never reach Mount Uniacke. 
After talking the situation over with Jiim we decided it better 
to get an Indian who lived back in the woods to go with me 
next morning. He waded tlirou^ih the snow to see him v/hile 
I went l)ack to the liouse. There I found a young man who 
had come from Wolfville on a working train; he was just 
starting out to walk, following in the tracks I had made. We 
both remained all night and started on snow-shoes in the 
morning with the Indian. The young man borrowed wooden 
snowshoes and followed after us. We had a heavy tramp, 
arriving at Mount Uniacke at one o'clock, being five hours on 
the road. Here we hired a team and drove to Bedford, where I 
got a train for Halifax that night, arriving at South Street 


at about 10 o'clock. I could scarcely move another step and 
felt sore for weeks after. I was forty-one hours from home 
to fatlier's. No trains were running until the 28th, when 
Mary got tlirough. 

This is an account of one of the most eventful trips of my 
life, and if it had not Ixen for the scctionman, would have 
been my last. Your affectionate brother, 

Herbert Stairs. 

[The following Writings we have selected for publication fiorn among 
a number fovnid in our lather's desk after his death] : 


" Ye men of Galilee, wliy stand ye gazing up into heaven ? 
This same Josus which is taken up froui you into heaven, shall 
so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." 

Then returned they unto Jerusalem from the mount called 
Olivet carrying with thein, oh, what thoughts! ^^^len Moses 
came doM-n from the mount, his face shone ^^'ith the glory of 
the presence of God. Vv'hen Jesus ascended, must not the glory 
that shone on him have left impressed upon His disciples and 
followers that which was never effaced ? How they must have 
raised tiu'ir voices iu hymns of praise ! "He will in like man- 
ner come again," and those tliey taught looked for him to 
cone again. 

Th.e (hurch look root, grew and nourished, suffering but 
growing, cruslied \n\{ only to send out a sweeter fragrance, 
and still to grow, to spread as it diil over Asia Minor to learned 
G'eece, imperial T'oiue, tcathing tliat as Christ had gone, so 
lie wotdd in like numner come again. 

For centuries the Cliunh taught tlmt Christ's return to 
earth sliould he looked for, and we no^v in this day may fairly 
dwell upon the glory of His coming again. 


Christ lias said, " It is not for you to know the times or tlie 
seasons, wliich the Father hath put in his own power." There 
i-5 now no dogmatic teaching as to the time or probable time of 
the coming of Christ. 

Anticipations there have been. Earnestness and wa.rmth 
cf heart, readings of prophecy many and various, but so far 
the coining of Christ has been to each man's soul in holy com- 
munion of inward peace, which many can tell of, and in tlie 
last few hours of life, when soul and body take farewell, and 
of which many have been witnesses, but of which none have 
returned to tell. 

These in life and at death have been, so far to us, the 
coming of Christ. But do we well, in our Christian inter- 
course, so seldom to remind each other of His coming, liter- 
ally, and as tlie early Chiristians were wont to do? 

What a stimulant to our faith it should be, to think of the 
world preparing for Christ to come, and drawing all men 
towards Him ! 

We think of Him as the babe in the manger — as the boy 
in the Temple — as the young man coming out of Galilee and 
the Spirit descending upon Him as a dove — the voice from 
heaven proclaiming, " This is ray beloved Son, in whom I am 
well pleased.'' We see Him opening the eyes of the blind, 
healing tlie sick, comforting the bereaved family of Bethany, 
raising the dead. We reverence the scene of transfiguration 
on the mount, we suffer with Him in the Garden of Geth*- 
semane; we call all men to look on the Cross of Christ; we 
follow Him to tlie Moimt of Olivet and see Him taken up out 
of our sight; and shall we not anticipate His coming? 
. Yes, He will come again to you and to m-e and to the world, 
i:nd as He has Himself asked : " Shall the Son of MaJi find 
faith on the earth at His coming ?" Does asking the question 
imply a doubt rather than an assurance? 

We may take it as a warning to us, to be watchful — watch- 
ful that we may be found pure and holy, faithful and prayer- 
ful, living to Him and to the example He has set us. 


Come, let us reason together. 

Wliat k the outlook ? 

The coming of Christ having been so plainly foretold by 
the angels on Mount Olivet, and the intervening centuries 
having passed without the fulfilment of the prophecy, we may 
now reasonably judge that the coming of Christ is reserved 
for the more full preparation of the inhabitants of the earth. 
Missions are carrying the Word of God and the Cross of Christ 
to the further parts of the earth. The dense populations of 
China. India and Africa have yet to hear of Him. Ages may 
roll before this consummation comes to pa*s. Great trials 
and sufferings may come upon the earth before the world is 
prepared to meet its Lord. 

Plagues may stalk over the earth: populous nations may 
be swept away; plagues of new forms of sin may vex the souls 
of the righteous as have never been; horrible risings of evil 
against right may on a sciile beyond all precedent be in the 
world's future, and yet through it all will be. I believe, the 
steadv 2Towing Christian Church. 

And how is the spirit of evil to be exorcised, overcome, cast 
out .' It can only be the faith which Christ warns us He will 
expect to find at His coming. And is this faith in us and 
around us ? I believe it is. Where shall we look for it ? Is 
it among the professionably and the professed religious classes 
— the ministers, parsons and priests, the deacons and the more 
prominent church members r I wiU not Judge these classes, 
but would warn them not to suppose they are the indispensable 
ones, without whom God cannot maintain the faith of the 
Church. Who are the indispensable ones? They are the 
bearers of trials, of troubles, of sorrows: they may be among 
the kings of the earth, among Ministers of State, as well as 
among the bankrupt of this world's goods, and possible, in the 
world's judgment, of character as well. 

She may be a faithful one from whom the world turns 
aside. Her cares may be increasing, or only ceasing when with 


Christ iier Comforter she finds a pardon and a love which 
none can measure. 

He will be pronounced a faithful one who, driving his loco- 
motive, true to duty, held on at his post and gave his life to 
save from sudden destruction the train and the Mring souls 
he had in charge. If a sincere prayer for the dead ever went 
up, it was for him, as his lifeless body was carried past the 
mournful group who, by his heroism, were saved. He had no 
studied form of prayer — no word escaped him but '' 3Iy God ! 

Mv God :-•' 

I had a friend who stood for two hours holding the door 
of a passage of a mine on fire. Man and boy hurrying out, 
he opening and shutting as tliey passed through — ^gas explod- 
ing — pillars crushing — death to all these forces reached — he 
holdiag on to keep the draught in the safest course, knowing 
fuil well there was no other chance than this, and yet one 
blast towards him and all was gone ! 

Wasn't he a faithful one to let all pass out, and when the 
word " All right, sir I"' came from the last man. then he fol- 
lowed and then the great erplosion came. Two hours of most 
imminent danger, none knew better tlian he how great it was 
— a peril he could have nm from. There was no rush of hot 
blood to nerve him, but coolly he waited at his post. His 
etory was never written. I wish it had been. What was his 
reward ? It was this : His consciousness of faith ; after an 
honourable and useful life, he has bidden us good-bye. His 
last words were: "I rest in God !'' He was a faithful one. 

" True,'"' he tliat eareth for none of these things may say : 
" I can show from heathen history those w]:o were as time to 
duty as your railway hero, or your danger-defying Christian 
friend. The Eoman soldier at his post, faithful to deatli. 
The Scandinavian mart\"r has left as ffood a record." Yes. 
God never left Himself without a witness that man was made 
in His own image, that tlie story of the Cross should not be 
altogether uniutellisible to the most benififhted races. 


Mungo Park penetrated alone into t]ie heart of Africa, 
travel-worn, ready to die, he laid himself down, and but for 
God in tb.e form and person of a ne^ro woman, he would have 
died. She gave him milk and corn; slie sang to him a sweet 
song; s]io was to him the incarnation of Christian love. I 
believe this will be remembered and told of her wlien the 
Queen^s Jubilee is forgotten. 

We have all our work to do. We are not all called upon to 
meet such trials, to sup such sorrows, but we arc all called 
upon to be faithful to the claims of God and man. It may be 
for us but a small matter of call or claim, but we can give the 
cup of cold water wdth charity and sympathy, and hear the 
benediction: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
least of th.ese, ye have done it mito me." 

"Wlien the Son of j\ian cometli, Shall He find faith on 
the earth?" To show this faith, or such faitli as the Lord 
will desire, to Avhom shall we look? From wliom may we 
etspect the spirit of the GTain of mustard seed of the parable? 
Where may we find it and not disappointment ? Is it with 
the popes that hold the keys of heaven ? Is it with bishops 
•and archbishops that rule and preside, maybe for the good 
order of the Church, l:)ut oftentimes as a weight and a hin- 
drance and not a help ? 

Is it from tlie humble pastor and minister wdio leads his 
flocks and waits upon them in holy ordinances? Is it from 
the Christian professor who closely observes the rulas of his 
Church ? Is it from the patient bearing ones who are bring- 
ing uj) the rear? — the good father, the loving mother, the 
dutiful son, the aiTectionate daughter, the kind neighbours — 
among whom of all tliese shall Christ find faith? 

lie may find it, possibly among all. Who of all these are 
indispensable in the work, or for the work as Christ has for 
such faithful ones to do? 

Of all these, there is no one, no man who is indispensable 
to Christ. There is no man with whom He may not dispense, 
to whom He mav not say: " I do not need thee." 


How, if all men may be set aside? Is it so with classes? 
Will Christ dispense with popes, bishops, archbishops, pastors 
and teachers ? He may ; I do not say He will ; but this I know. 
He will not dispense with the patient, burden-bearing, suf- 
fering ones — with the good father, the loving mother, the 
dutiful son, the affectionate daughter, the kind neiglibours ; 
and the lowlier the class, the nearer to the poor in spirit and 
the pure in heart, the nearer to Him and to His needs for the 
regeneration of the world. 

From these will be swelled the ranks of tlio great 
army of His disciples who shall be gathered together to see 
Him come in like manner again. 

If I was preaching I would call upon men to be foimd 
among tliese classes })rofe5sing the name of Christ. I would 
call upon the popes, bishops and archbishops, ministers, 
priests, all professing religionists to sink their ritual, to sink 
the form and fashion of their creeds, and in the lowliest dis- 
cipleship to make sure they would be found among the indis- 
pensable ones to Christ. All this, I believe, will come to pass. 

Christ will find faitli u})()n the earth. 

The crowds that shall welcome Him upon the heights of 
Olivet, or wherever may be the heights of the Olivet of the 
coming time — no man will be able to number. They will be 
as the Christian world of the latter day is to tlie handful of 
those to whom it was said : " Why stand ye gazing up into 
heaven ?" 

jSTow let us turn to the Jerusalem which is above. Let us 
look f<5rward in expectation of that greatest event which will 
ever liappen in the future history of the world. 

Oh! how all human events dwarf when we think of this — 
to see Christ the consummation of all our desires ; and we 
shall not be alone when we see Him. The quick and the 
dead ; the dead first, those we love, those who have gone before, 
him with whom we took sweet counsel, those who were as onr- 
selves, loved as ourselves, pardoned as ourselves, will be there. 


We must close with the prayer of " Hide not Thyself from 
lis. May we walk nearer to Tlioe. Receive us unto Thyself 
for Clirisf s sake/' 


The Platform, tlie l*ulj)it and tJie newspapers are teeming 
witli charges against Riches. 

The "Bea-stlinees of Wealth," and superficial thinkers are 
saying: These are my sentiments! 

Socialisrn, that is, tlie rights of the mfuiy against the get- 
t]ng6 of the few, is put i'orward by godly divines, as well as 
by political leaders, as a fair matter of public interest. 

Wlio shall we say is rig'ht ? The men who have and would 
keep, or the men who wisli- to have? 

The Bible says nothing in favour of getting and holding. 
TJie old prophet, taught to pray, "Give me neither poverty nor 
riches." Tlie happy mean was his idea. Solomon asked for 
wisdom and liis prayer was answered; wealth and riches 
greater tluin ever was then known, were added, evidently as a 
visible assurance of God's good will. 

The Psalmist utters warrant for wealth in the praise of 
the just man. 

The world has understood this question pretty avoU, and 
rightly feels tliat in contentment, with plain sufficiency, is 
eafety, and tlsat wealth has its responsibilities and duties. 

If all coukl be rich, no dou])t luxury would be rampant 
and society would bo demoralized. If none were rich. ]u-o- 
gress would cease, art would be comparatively nowhere. 
Science would never have pu) a steamship across the Atlantic, 
to say nothing of the five days from Liverpool to ISTew York. 
The Canadian Pacific Railway would not have been laid out. 
Without Science cheap cottons or woollens would be beyond 
tlie reach of the prior. 


To say wliat we owe to the savings of rich men and scien- 
tific inventions, the result of their savings would bring up the 
" Boy's Oavu " book story of the plum pudding that took 
1,000 men to produce. 

So mucli for rich men's savings and lawful accmnulations. 
r>nt now about rich men's wealth, gotten from monopolies, 
under our laws, made tavoui'al^le to such monopolies. 

Firstly. Great land monopolists. Who are they? For- 
tunately th.cre are none in this country. In Prince Edward 
Island they had the land in bondage — this was cured. The 
social principle in the government of the many settled tliis by 
buying out the absentee landlords; an equitable bargain trans- 
ferred the ownership of the la.nd from the few absentees to the 
manv hom.e settlers. 

I do not venture to say the same transfer could be made 
in England, Ireland and Scotland. 

As to the monopolies in trade and manufacturing — have 
we in sight these monopolies that coidd be equitably and 
wisely broken up ? 

In trade. Banking, which is trading in money, has by 
law definite protection. The great corporations are protected 
from the competition of unchartered opponents. No harm 
lias come of it, but much good. The banking system of 
Canada is challenging the banking system of the civilized 

Railway, telegraph and telephone companies are all 
incorporated by law and are rec^ognized as blessings, and rich 
men who are the envv of the coarser socialist, di-aw large 
incomes from these legal monopolies, and no one wishes to 
disturb such useful combinations. The mining companies — 
the great steamship companies, are equally wholesome com- 
])iriations, and in no^nse hurt the poor man_, while they make 
and swell the incomes of the rich. 

But do not overlook this, that the poor and the richi are so 
intermixed, it is not possible to say who is rich and who is 


poor. It i.s the way in England now in issuing company 
shares to issue shares of ono pound each. So that they may 
be and are within tlie reaeli and are owned by men whom no 
one calls rich. 

A man comparatively poor may, and many have their 
earnings involved in such company combinations. This, how- 
ever, is apparent, these combinations and uses of capital are 
subject to fluctuations and often to danger of loss. Here the 
richer may venture on an ownership that to a poorer man 
would be un\vise. 

Leaving these semi-public combinations, let us consider 
those which are less general, and more special in tlieir tenden- 
cies to give unusual returns to rich men ; say industries within 
the country, which wouhl not have existence unless 
under recognized and legal incorporation and protected from 
external competition by a tariff uncalled for by the necessities 
of the revenue of the State. In reviewing these we have the 
socialistic field, as regards the relative position of tlie poor 
man, or more ])roperly the man of moderate and generally 
diffused means and the richer capitalist, and we come within 
the sco]ie of tlie parliamentary debat-e that occupies our great 
political parties; and we need not go into this argument, as 
it is agitating tlie public mind of Canada, tlie United States, 
France and (Germany, but we can fairly claim the question of 
our National Policy sliould not affect the discussion of tlie 
relation Ca))!t;il has to Jiabour. Eacli is e([ually interested. 
If Capital asks protection, so does Labour. 

The party question of the day : Shall we buy in the 
cheapest market, or shall we make our goods among ourselves? 
are imported into the argument as to the relations of Capital 
and Labour, adversely to the ea])italist and the promoter of 
home industries. 

Is tJiis expedient, right and just ? Expedient it may be, 
because the men who as free traders use it show they think so. 
Yet for them its expediency may be questionable, being they 
are in the presence of the Grand Jury of public affairs. 


Is it right and just ? I was early taught, in seeldng a 
solution of a doubtful problem not t6 look too far away. Look 
near at hand. That which is near at hand is best laiown and 
more truly matured; that whicli is far off is vague and hazy. 

Looking at home among our possessors of capital, those 
who have been our rich men, and whose affairs we can discuss 
without imdue personality, how has it been? 

William Murdoch left Halifax decidedly a rich man. He 
made his money simply by buying his goods cheaply in the 
Old Country and selling them fairly in the new. He remem- 
bered his home among us, and tlie Blind School owes it^ start 
to him. No question here of Capital versus Labour. 

Samuel Cunard started an enterprise which no })Oor man 
helped, but which capitalists did. He died honoured and very 
rich. True, without working men, tlie owners of labour, his 
steamships could not have been built or sailed. Witliout the 
sweat of the Jiardest worked of men, the stokers in tlie hold of 
the C'unarder, the gTcat steamship line would not be. Yet no 
one justly thinks or says the Cunard family should settle with 
the stoker's I'amilv. To do so would break the Cunard line, 
and the stoker's family would be the keenest sufferers. 

Coming now within the range of your own knowledge. 

Dan Cronan died a rich man; of this the Public Charities 
Fund is in evidence. The taxing his estate was the first 
objective lesson in the socialistic ruling, of the many voters 
helping themselves at the expense of the few. 

In passing, our Attorney-General, the framer and ex- 
pounder of tlie law of death duties, put it plainly to a popu- 
lace assembly : " Do you think it a good law ?" " Yes,^' was 
the unanimous response; but observe, among tlie assentors to 
this proposition there was not an indi^adual that expected to 
be reached by the operation of this law. 

The death duties did not affect them, for the framers of 
tlie law had made the minimum limit a higher sum than 
would affect only an estate or two within the country. We are 


trying the question as just and right — not tlie death duties, 
but the limit of the death duties. Read the law before you 
hastily give an opinion as bearing upon the relations of greater 
and le-sser wealth. 

Back again to our friend. Dan Cronan. I call him Dan, 
for it was as Dan Cronan he went in and out among us. Well 
known and a good fellow^ was Dan. I hope to meet him where 
we can say: "Glad to see you!" whctlier we have passed 
through the refining state of purgatory or not. If any for- 
tune was ever made in ^.'ova Sco'ia by trading outside of Xova 
Scotia, and a fortune which was in no way indebted to the 
protection of our laws, it was Mr. Cronan's. He traded and 
bought furs on tlie coast of Labrador, as John Jacob Astor 
did on the Columbia River. He bought the Nova Scotia 
catch of codfish, and sold it in Porto Rico. He died one of 
our richest men. Who can say his capital was wickedly anta- 
gonistic to the wages of labour? 

Martin Black died a rich num. His fortune, some three- 
quarters of a million, was principally made in the good old 
days, when no policy was known but the policy of a Revenue 

John P. Mott, as rich a man as any of his compeers, was 
innocent of any charge against his riches other than that of 
prudence and far-sightedness. He saw in the fluctuations of 
the values of the raw materials of the manufacturers opportu- 
nities of profit wliich told immensely. As a young man he 
became intimately acquainted with well-doing people in the 
United States, and keeping up his correspondence with them, 
he was led to some very profitable investment^ in Ainoriean 
railway stocks. Tliese investments were realizes! by his exe- 
cutors before the late depression of their values. He died 
probably richer than he thought he was. but he forgot not the 
many benevolences that had had his warm aid and help in lii:? 
lifetime. Scattering his tens of thousands freely and widely 
around, where then, vn{]\ him, comes in the antasronism of 
Capital and Labour? 


1 cannot call to mind the history of a rich man in out 
community in the past who injured anyone by his accumu- 
lations. Tliat unjust men liave been, we allow; but that tlit! 
law aided and helped such men, we can find no evidence or 
proof. Let the Socialist, be he of the bad stamp or the well- 
mea.ning enthusiast, think of liis case before he sets agoing a 
cry that may invade the rights of property and the personality 
of men's powers of bettering themselves. 

Wliat we have written applies to the past. How about the 
present? Are our rich men less disinterested than those 
whose record is now unchangeable? It would be ill taste to 
discuss the cases we might call up; and if we do transgress, 
let it be with, our more public men. 

Mr. Roclie, tlie member for the county, lias been posted by 
the gossips of the Press as tlie richest man in Plalifax. So it 
may be. I know no particulars, but this I know, that lus 
wealtli has been earned and saved by honourable men who 
were no pets of governments or fortune. With them Labour 
and Capital have been true handmaids. 


Stanley^ as a young man, was a newspaper reporter in the 
United States; one, I fancy, of the best; clever and daring, 
well up in knowing the taste of the American public, who 
require news to be spicy and exaggerated. 

The American loves danger, and is a great administrator 
of new and untried enterprises. 

Stanley lived in an atmosphere of pusi:, purpose, pjiy — jreat 
push, determined purpose and almost unlimited pay. 

Livingstone was in the heart of Africa, lost, as it were. 
•' W^io knows what has become of Livingstone? Wlio will 
find Livingstone ?" sa3rs the New YorJc Herald. " Stanley, 
will you?" " Yes, I will if any man can." "Here, Stanley, 
is a cheque for your expenses (without limit)," says Bennett. 


^Stanley is of!. Eeaching Africa with little loss of tiuie 
and witli plenty of money, how does he look for Livingstone? 
The Arabs of tlie East Coast, through the slave dealings, know 
well what is going on. Stanley annonnces to the Arab chiefs 
tliat lie would pay promptly, and a good sum to the man who 
brought liim word where Livingstone could be found. The 
Arabs soon reported to Stanley tlie course to take. ^Money 
stirred the Arabs ; Hie Arab found tJic way and Stanley found 
Livingstone. TMs made Englislimen wonder, and Stanley 
made up a big book out of tlie finding of Livingstone. No 
doubt Bennett got back his money in the sale of the New York 
Herald and in the eclat of doing what tlie Englishmen had 
not thought of. Englishmen simply wondered ; they had not 
taken any account of American push and purpose. It was a 
email affair to C'olonel Freemont's crossing the great desert, 
the Kocky .Momitains and the Sierra Nevada, and winning 

The Yankees shouted " Well done, Stanley !" Tlie greater 
mystery of wonder and applause was frojii the Englishmen. 
Stanley takes to the English. He makes a second journey, 
this time across tlie Dark Contineut. " A new l)Ook," and no 
doubt it paid. 

Now comes tJie crowning expedition. 

General Gordon Imd •ent I'hnin I^i.'^lia to rule in fho 
K^oudan. The j\Iahdi was too much for Egyptian forces and 
Emin Avas Ixdeagured. Tlie expedition for his relief was 
started, and Stanley imdertofik its leadership. How well he 
did his work is told by tlie rescue of Emin. The losses sus- 
tained and the dangers encountered are all told in Stanley's 

Push, purpose and )tay througli it all. and now he stars, 
bulks very large in men's estimate, married, dowered, feted, 
cffered. ] l)e]ieve, substantial rank" but puts it aside, seemingly 
more satisfied with the puljlic applause bestowed upon him by 
L'ngland, (rermany and Amei'ica. And yet was he a hero 


as were Indian heroes — Ontram, the Havelocks, Lawrences, 
men wlio thought not of pay or applause but in self-t?acriiice 
only cf their duty, their country and their God ? Will his 
fame last? Will it wear a.s the fame and meniory of Mungo 
Park and Livingstone have worn? 



\Vhat is the strong need of such Federation ? 

England is carrying the burden of th.e great cost of the 
national defences, and of keeping open and protecting tlie 
great ocean routes, as free for our commerce as for her o^na. 

England is giving and not getting. Canada is getting and 
iTot giving. This should not last. It is a seeming benefit to 
us, but in reality it will sap our strength, which should l)e 
growing by its exercise. 

No scheme lias been promulgated, far less developed 

What is it occurs to a practical man? He think-s tlie 
natioual forces, the Army and Navy, should be paid for by 
the people who receive the benefits of their protection. Before 
going into consideration of this subject, let me bring to your 
notice (what, however, you may have seen), an article in the 
Century of December, by George E. Parkin on the " Reor- 
ganization of the Empire." It is hard to make an extract of 
what is as a whole so pertinent to tlie subject; but as far as is 
within n)y limits, I will transcribe from his communication. 
He writes: — 

It has to do with tlie question of peace and war, 
the safety of the great ocean routes, the adjustment of 
international differences, the relations of trade, commerce 
commimication and emigration. In all these their concern 
(that is. the outlying provinces of the Empire), is already 
large, and becoming larger year by year. In dealing with 
such questions their voice, as component parts of a great 


empire, will l)e far more effectual tlian as struggling, indepen- 
dent nationalities. That voice is in a measure given to tlicni 
now by courtesy and as a necessary concession to their grow- 
ing importance; but for permanent nationality it must be 
theirs bv ordinary right or citizenship through full incorpor- 
ation into the political system of the State, so far as relations 
with other States are concerned. 

Those who believe it impracticable to give unity of this 
kind to the Empire underestimate tlie strengtli of the influ- 
ences which make for the continuity of national life. On the 
Continent we see to-day a sufficiently striking illustration of 
this strength. We c:ui easily understand it requires no veiy 
marked natural boundary to form a permanent line of separ- 
ation between nations which differ in language, religion and 
descent a.s in the case of the European States. But in America 
an ahuost purely arbitrary line of division has far more than 
a centurv served shar})ly to separate into two nationalities, 
and across the lireadth of a continent two peoples, who are of 
the same origin, speak the same language, study the same 
literature, and are without any decisive distinction of religious 

The admitted present loyalty of Canada has deepened 
and matured through a long scries of years, v,"hen the United 
States were SAveeping past them in a career of prosperity 
almost without example in history, and when union with them 
seemed as if it would secure for Canada an equal share of the 
prosperity they enjoyed, the bias of a national life was so 
strong that neither geographical facts nor commercial ten- 
dencies have weakened the national bond; nor are they more 
likely to do so now that Canada has, by the opening up of 
her great Western Provinces, manifestly entered upon a like 
period of development. 

In spite of all the evidences of a century's history, IMr. 
Goldwin Smith still argues that trade interests will ultimately 
draw Canada into political connection with the United States, 
and apparently does not understand why his opinion is rejected 
by the vast majority of Canadia.Jis. Yet it seems impossible 
to conceive liow, without a debasement of public sentiment 
quite unparalleled in history, a people whose history began in 
loyalty to British institutions, who through a hundred years 
have been sheltered by British power, who have constantly 
professed the most devoted regard for a motherland with 


v:hich they are connected by a thousand ties of afEectionate 
sympathy, should deliberately, in cold blood, and for com- 
mercial reasons only, break that connection and join them- 
selves to a vState in whose history and traditions they liave no 
part. They would incur, and unquestionably would deserve 
alike the contempt of the people they abandon and of the 
people they join. 

In a Great Britain recognized as a Federation, Union or 
Alliance, Canada would hold an honourable place gained on 
the lines of true national development. In Annexation she 
would have nothing but a bastard nationality, the offspring of 
either meanness, selfishness or fear. 

Let me thank ]\Ir. Parkin for his sound words. Cravens 
would we be indeed if we allowed the good, the benefits, the 
ties of over a hundred years to melt before the seeming advan- 
tage of this annexation. 

We, in Canada, holding a noble heritage now stand face 
10 face with annexation or a reorganization of the Empire. 

It cannot be annexation. 

1st. We are financially better off as we are. 

2nd. We are socially most wannly attached to the Mother 

3rd. We will not forego the higher and more assured 
degree of National Independence, which we now enjoy under 
the constitution secured to us by Britain, and by our system 
of Eesponsible Government, the genius of British policy which 
adapts itself to the varying changes of our political existence. 

It has been said, boldly said (it was necessary it should be 
said as it was) by the Premier of the Province of Ontario, 
that the Americans are a hostile nation. Nothing more easy 
with them than to excite an anti-British feeling. He said : 
"For the people 'of this Canada, they iviliJ never give away nor 
sell tlAs gfeat territory to a hostile nation." 

AYe cannot forget that the President of the United States 
did, for party purposes, declare that it was policy for them 
(the United States) to do to Canada the greatest harm that 


was ill their power. Nor shall we forget the voice in their 
fcJeuate crying : " Annex Canada peacefully if we can, but 
forcibly if we must." Xor that both Houses of Congress 
reaffirmed the Munro doctrine and pledged unyielding hostility 
to the perpetuation of any European interests on this con- 
tinent, which means anything but good will to Canada. 

Says tlie practical man: Taxation should only follow 

Now in tlie matter of defence, and this covers ocean com- 
munication secured to an enormous commerce, also Inter- 
national differences — for who minds international treaties, 
with defenceless powers? (Trade. Currenc3% Communications 
and Emigration may safely be left to their own expediencies.) 

Defence. This means that eighteen millions for the 
Army and twelve millions for the Navy, in all tliirty millions 
of pounds, should be raised by the Confederated Empire; the 
people paA'ing this levy being duly represented at some grand 
centre. How will this work? 

The people of the British Islands, now tliirty-five millions, 
raise for defensive pui-poses thirty millions of jjomids.. 

Let this be; do not disturb it. Let the outlying parts of 
the Empire bring up tlie reserves. Canada, with live millions 
of people, at an even rate, would be required to find one-seventh 
of thirty-five millions, or £4.385,714. This g-ives the startling 
figures for our country of twenty-one millions of dollars, a 
sum she could not pay. 

What would Cimada ]")ny if she shared with the United 
States? Her propoi-tion of their Anny and Navy expenses 
(independently of the pension list) fifty-two millions of dol- 
lars, one-eleventh part or $4,727,272 would be her quota, or 
well on towards one dollar per capita. 

Let Canada say to the Confederate Parliament: Having 
a voice in your Councils, being fully represented, having a 
vote on the question of Peace or War, we will secure to the 
forces of the Empire transport across our country from ocean 


to ocean, and we will pcay to the common fund of the Empire 
such sum as we would have to contribute if we became an- 
nexed to the United States, say one dollar per head of our 

Conditioning that such contribution should be spent, as 
far as practicable, in our own country, also conditioning that, 
should peace be so assured that the thirty millions of British 
expenditure being decreased, we in Canada should have the 
benefit of a like decrease in rate. 

These rates of contribution are such as occur to a practical 
man, but in the arrangement of the Federation of the Empire 
I would say to Canadians, as one of them: Come to the con- 
sideration of this question in no calculating spirit. Think 
not that the " as we are " will last. We are unlike any other 
■portion of the British Empire ; we are pressed by a great nation 
on a boundary of over four thousand miles. 

We cannot resist annexation as we are. It can only be by 
a perfect incorporation with the British Empire. 

Other than the question of National Defence, what are 
the questions tliat would occupy the attention of a confederate 
assembly ? 

Our local alfairs are managed by our local govermnent. 

We deal with each other and with foreigners, according to 
the kejTiote set us by England; that is, dealing with the 
foreigner not as he deals by us, but as we deal by each other. 

Now, in our Central Assembly, let us coin this over. 

We will have to spend, as a united body, some forty mil- 
lions of pounds; and why? To keep ourselves safe and harm- 
less from the foreigners to whom we give even rights of trade. 
Taking a lesson from the said foreigner, let us withdraw this 
open and even class of trade. Let us seek to get some con- 
tribution (towards the forty millions of pounds spent) from 
the same foreigner who obliges us to spend such sum. 

How is this to be done? 


Compute the foreign trade that gains the benefit of such 
open dealings, say as between the outside world and Great 
Britain, India and her colonies. From such data as are 
available we have warrant for treating it as four hundred 
million pounds sterling of imports. 

Four hundred millions to be taxed to pay forty millions, 
it plainly would be ten per cent, levy upon tlie value of foreign 
imports. Admit that forty millions of what is called a defence 
expenditure, a fair share should be borne by the country, as 
the Army and Navy serve as a police as well as for defence, 
and in the spirit of compromise with the Free Trader, who 
will have his objections to the scheme, let us look to the foreign 
trade as competition with internal trade for, say, one-half or 
5 per cent, upon the value of the foreign imports — and this 
over and above any duty it may be necessary to lev}' for pur- 
poses of revenue and local protection. 

To make this plain, look at the practical effect: — 
100 lbs. of sugar, grown in Germany. France, Cuba or 

Java, costing $2.50 at 5 per cent., would pay 12c. 

Sugar from Jamaica, Barbados or India would be Free 

100 lbs, of cotton from Georgia, costing $12.00, would 

pay 60c. 

Cotton from India and Queensland would be Free 

The Free Traders would say " Bali !" 

We would say to the manufacturer : Make it manifest how 
much you have paid in duty upon the raw material of 3'our 
goods exported beyond tlie Confederation, and we will make 
you a drawback equal to your payments. 
100 lbs. of wheat from the United States and Eussia, 

costing $1.50, would pay 7-Jc. 

Wheat from Canada, India and Austi-alia would be. . . Free. 

This policy, as I have intimated, would meet the disap- 
proval of the Free Trader. I see no trouble if the British 
consumer pays the tax, say upon sugar; he pays it to himself, 
it lightens, as far as it goes, his taxation at some otlier point. 


The same applies to wheat and such consumable commo- 

But it is evident, the first secures a moderate protection to 
the British Sugar Colony, and the second to British growth of 
breadstuffs both at home and abroad. 

Again the Free Trader protests. He says the value of 
British-grown sugar and wheat will be increased by so much 
as this duty protects or benefits the British grower. That is, 
the British consumer must pay for the benefit received by the 
British grower. 

The parson and the workman must pay more for his loaf 
of bread to benefit the English and the Canadian farmer than 
he does now by giving the foreigner even and equal privileges 
with his countrymen, and this cannot be denied. So it is, and 
if we adopt the scheme of preferring our own under pressure 
of war and defence, we will promise the parson that when he 
brings about the millenium, we will go back to Free Trade. 

The British workman would not be slow to perceive that 
if the Canadian, the Australian and the East Indian bought 
the goods he made, under advantage of no duty, as compared 
with the manufactures of Germany, France and the United 
States, he would have, in a close contest, the inside track, quite 
enough to give him the road; and I say, Heaven help him if 
he does not get it. 

In Canada the working of such duty on foreign imports 
would be the same as in the Home country. 

Thus, if Canada contributed to the Common Defence Fund 
one dollar per head of her five millions of people, it would be 

If a differential duty was levied upon foreign imports, say, 
without figures of accuracy, five per cent, upon sixty millions 
of dollars' worth entering into her home consumption, she 
would remit to the Central Treasury three millions as collected 
en imports, a.nd two millions of dollars due by her as her con- 
tribution to the cost of the national defences. 


Memo. — The imports of Canada for the year ending June, 
1887, from countries foreign to the British Empire, for home 
consumption and excluding bullion, was $58,700,000. 

This mutual benefit of a protected interchange of trade 
would go far to weld the Confederation into a unit. 

I have l)een trying to study this question as a practical 
man, not as a tlieorist. As a theorist I miglvt bring up ques- 
tions of souie startling importance, say as to the Monarchical 
or Ecpublican system as being best suited for the grand central 
governing power. 

We have before us the French and the American Republics, 
and the German Union with an Emperor and a great Minister, 
and our own ^Monarchy, more Eepublican than the Eepublics. 
With these examples we can surely allow experience as we gain 
it in practice to mould the Constitution of the Greater Britain. 

Eecurring to the practical and cardinal principle in the 
Confederation would l)o, as now. the British subject, born in 
any part of the Confederation, would be equally entitled to 
all local rights of citizenship as to the highest central office. 

Local imports should bear the same tacx; from rne part of 
the Empire as from the other. Xo lines of preference or 
reciprocal treaties allowed within the Empire. 

In the United Empire, what are the bonds, the mutual 
interests that will secure the union? I see none in the way 
of central force. 

In the case of the United States the disloyal country lay 
go close to the main body that they were coerced. 

Should such a case arise in the United Britain, from the 
proximity of Canada to a great power, force would be ima- 

Force would scarce be availing in the case of Australia. 

Witli India, brought up to a state of self-governing public 
policy, no force would l)e equal to the task. 

All this will have to be considered when the matter of 
relative representation comes to be considered. 


I am inclined to the opinion that the extreme parts of the 
Empire ■udll somewhat control the Centre. They will he 
enlarging Avhile the British Islands cannot be expected to 
grow at all in proportion. 

The bonds will have to be Mutual Interests, best secured 
by a beneficial and mutual trade; by a general and common 
protection of our national rights and liberties; by a British 
citizenship securing a happy freedom that, far from disinte- 
gration and disunion, may invite that other brancb by the 
English-speaking race to return to the old, we will not say 
allegiance, l)ut to a Brotherhood from which they broke or 
were driven away. 


Do you favour Prohibition ? — I do not. 
Do you not, in any way ? — In an especial way, I do favour 

Wliat way, if you please ? — As regards myself. I prohibit 
mj^self touching any strong liquors. That is, liquors stronger 
than good, fairly-keeping wines, and wholesome malt liquors. 
Cider I consider to be a wine. 

If vou prohibit yourself, why should you not do as well by 
others? — Because in prohibiting myself I am always present 
with myself. As regards myself I have a law of conscience, 
which I could not have with another. Every man must be a 
law unto himself in such matters as are not demonstrably 
infringements of God's law. 

Would you not control others as you do yourself? — Yes, 
eome I would; I would feel I was a guardian to minors. I 
would control them if they would obey. 

"Would you control generally or be part}' to laws of con- 
trol? — 'No, I would not. 

Wliy ? — Because, as I read the revealed Will of God, I find, 
— or think I find — He intends each mortal soul to be its own 


arbiter — to chooso for liimsolf or lierself the good or evil. 
The same clioice given to Adam has been offered to all that are 
within the range, as Adam was, of the knowledge of God's will. 
I look upon the abuse of strong drink as any other specific sin. 
Strong drink may be used safely if diluted to the strengtli of 
wines. Wines, malt liquors, diluted spirits, whicl. is to tlie 
poor man what costly wino is to the rich, I would only use in 
view of the danger-line of growing appetite, leaving them 
alone, if such danger is apparent, but claim for every man his 
light of choice, safety or danger, good or evil. God has pro- 
claimed such freedom of choice to be His will, for some greater 
purpose than we can see. I can fancy a man going through 
a life of dissipation, falling low, very low, rising or struggling 
to rise, dying a world's outcast, yet rising in the great here- 
after to a height that the untried spirit never reached. This 
is for man and woman. 

Can the Legislature do nothing to keep danger from men's 
paths ? If they undertake to do this, they undertake to revise 
the will of God. They would wish to be wiser than God. 
— what may not be, and if attempted, will surely fail. 


April SOtli, 1889. 

These great trees are the giants of the tree growth. No 
living trees are known to be of their size. The largest arc 
upwards of 24 feet in diameter, and over 300 feet in licight. 
Some are said to be larger, but when greater dimensions are 
given, it is ])y measuring the bulging roots spreading from 
the trunk. They are, however, largo enough to satisfy any 
sense of wonder without stretching or exaggerating tJiese 
measures. Their age is computed to be 2,000 to 3,000 years. 
We bought a packet of the seeds of these wonders, and won- 
d'ering at the minuteness of the seed, — scarcely larger than 
mustard seed — learned this legend: 

These small seeds, or I suppose one of them, was seen to 


be very sad and sorrowful. " What is the matter, my little 
fellow ?" said a good spirit as it passed over the hill-top. "You 
may well say ' My little fellow,' " said the seed, " I will never 
grow like the other trees on these hills from so small a seed." 
''' Never mind, don't be cast down, you shall grow, if you hold 
your head up, bigger and higher than any of them." " Shall 
I," said the seed, "Are you sure?" "Yes, I am sure," said 
the good spirit, and what is more, while you hold your head 
up you shall always be growing." " Will I not die like the 
other trees ?" " No, you will not die while you hold your 
head up. Fire shall not burn you, storm shall not overthrow 
}ou, you will not fade or decay while you hold your head up." 
" Oh, I thank you, good Spirit; I must hold up my head." 

The good Spirit passed on, and the little seed sprouted 
and grew. The Indians told the story of the big tree. It 
was the wonder of race after race. Growing in good and due 
proportion, root, branches and trunk a very sight to hehold. 

Two good Spirits came along. The greater of the two said, 
" My brother, what is this great tree that will overshadow all 
the other trees?" 

" This tree is from a little seed I blessed, promising that 
while it held its head up it should grow and grow. Fire was 
not to burn it ; storm was not to overthrow it, and it was not 
to fade or decay." 

" Were you wise in giving it over all other trees such an 
immortality ?" 

" Perhaps I was not, but I was pleased with the modest 
little seed, and cannot undo my gift." 

" Is it still the modest thing you love ?" 

" No, I am sorry to say it is overfond of its own glory, and 
is ever shouting ' I am the biggest in the world ! Look at my 
branches ! Look at my great head ! See how I spread myself ! 
I am secure ! I have the promise of a growth that will over- 
shadow all other trees. I will come between them and the 
sunshine. I will dwarf theiu. If tliey come to me I will 
send them home again. I want no strength from them.' " 


" Oh! " said the greater Spirit, turning to the tree, " This 
is not \\cll ; in the glory of your great branches you should 
iiot forget the strength of your trunk. You are not the modest 
seed mv brother blessed. You are proud. I cannot take away 
his promise : ' Fire shall not burn you, storm may not over- 
throw you, decay will not weaken you, and while you hold up 
your head you shall grow and grow and grow.' But I shall 
let you liave your own way. You shall make your own bed. 
Those 'wlio strengiliened your stem you have turned away, 
four head and branches sliall grow and grow." 

And the -great Spirit passed away, as did years and years. 
The branches grew more beautiful. Tliis great tree was tlie 
pride of the world. But those who looked closely said : " The 
stem vnll not carry its branches." 

What further said the legend ? 

In course of time tlie great tree which fire did not burn, nor 
storm overthrow, nor decay weaken, felt its head grow lieaA^. 
Its lease of life and growth was to hold up its head. The 
branches and top grew. The stem was never strengthened, 
and then came the end. It remembered when it was a little 
seed, when it was small and modest; but now its head was 
heavy; it could hold up its head no longer. Time, tliat ends 
all, brought it down; it tottered and fell, and lay upon the 
ground, fell stretched and ruined. In its glory it had forgot- 
ten itself. It had forgotten it could not stand alone in the 
glory and beauty of its head and branches. Its trunk and 
stem had ceased to grow when it proudly vaunted itself and 
said : " I am sufficient." 

Moral. — Let the United States take heed and remember 
— the working and bimilde man may not be turned away (see 
the Alien Labour Act) from the strengthening of their social 
trunks and stems. They may educate and polisb the higher 
circle. They cannot all be tl)0 highest. If (hey try, they 
will fall like the great Mariposa cedars, that were, and arc, 
the greatest in the world. 



I WAS a young man at the time. You see me now an old 
man, for I will be seventy my next birthday. You see me 
dried up, a martyr to rheumatism and neuralgia. I tlien 
weighed 214 pounds and measured 48 inches around tlie chest. 
I was the baselmll champion, the best wrestler, skater and 
swimmer in our parts, fond of military exercises, for which I 
had an hereditary fondness; my grandfather had led a force 
to the attempted capture of Quebec. A military life I gave 
up. My life employment has been a College Professorship. 
This led me to have the direction of the sports and summer 
vacations of the students, which year after year came under 
my charge. I have had more students' trips under my care 
than any other man in the United States. jSTow for my story : 

It was in the early summer of the later forties, that after 
breaking up of our College Course, an excursion into the 
mountains and forests of New Hampshire was organized, and 
I was asked to lead off a party of professors, with their wives 
and daughters, and some of the advanced students, in all a 
party numerous enough to give variety of companionship, and 
to make the sports of riding and walking and fishing alto- 
getlier within tlie range of the selection of our amusements. 

We had got well into the mountain range, quartered at 
an old-fashioned farm house. I will not dwell on what led 
to our undertaking an ascent of the grand mountain that rose 
in the rear of the house. But thus it was. We, that is our 
full party, got off after an early breakfast. A hay waggon 
drawn b^ two stout horses was brought into requisition. It 
was duly loaded with our company's equipage, for we meant 
to spend a few days camping on one of the spurs of the moun- 
tain. This meant taking baskets, hampers, well stowed with 
picnic fixings. Buffalo robes and blankets thrown into the 


waggon made seats for the roiigli riding we would have to 
endure over the wood roads up the mountain side. We 
had two camps, uiucl! to the comfort of the hidies, 
wlio felt that life on the mountain would be pleasanter if they 
could claim a camp by themselves. So we were well equipped. 
Strong teams^ camps, provisions, fishing rods and stout walk- 
ing sticks. The team took us up as far as the wood road 
would permit; and this was to we made and called 
Camp 'Lookout,' on one of the spurs of Greenhill. We 
reached this spot safely and well — tlie men of the party tramp- 
ing alongside of the waggon ; the ladies had the benefit of the 
lide. The day was beautiful, clouds passing over the sky 
enough to make agreeable shade. 

(Then was told an interval story much like camping 
out stories.) He goes on: 

A storm was coming on. I, voung and active, started 
up the steep path, on and on, beyond the others, and eager to 
reach the mountain-top, I pushed away the bush that crowded 
up the path, and better for me than a fall from the mountain 
side, 1 had stepped into the top of a cedar tree. Good tree, it 
lield mo as kindly as a mother's arm. Just then the storm 
burst overhead, and such grand artillery! volley after volley, 
from cloud to the mountains, and back froui the mountains 
to cloud. Above me, around me, below me, flash and thunder, 
roar and flash again. Was I frightened ? No. AVar of cloud 
and earth was too absorbing. I was safe in my insignificance. 
Almost as suddenly as the cloud had burst, it ceased, and 
before me rolled a sea of cloud. T was a good swimmer; the 
illusion was so great I liad almost dived into the cloud for a 
bath and a switn to the island mountain that rose before me. 

I felt the old man's story was very likely, because T had 
it in closest detail, a second time, when the Maine Professor 
and his wife took, in their young days, their holiday tri]) up 
[Mount Washington. I fancy the drop into the cedar tree— 
the storm — the bath, and the swim in the sea-like cloud was 


a story well told, and often told to please such as we were, 
loiterers among the orange groves of Kiverside. I am the 
more confirmed in this idea, because we had not long to wait 
before we got stories as good and as wonderful. 

Queiy: Had tliis dried-up specimen ever weighed 214 
lbs., or measured -18 inches around the chest? Had he been 
the best wrestler, skater, swimmer, tlie military madman? 
Had his gi'andfather ever marched to Quebec? 

I believe he had, for he was a good old man. I liked him 
very much. ^T\^en we parted he said in a most kindly way : 
" I think we must be some relation." I may as well mention 
his name; it was D'Orsay. He was of French descent, and 
whether it was so or not, he claimed to be related to Count 
D'Orsav. This he did not mention to me, but I overheard 
liim giving it in an aside to one of the young chaps of our 

I do not want anyone to think these stories were only fan- 
cies, but I am, I must say I was, at a loss to draw a line when 
fact ceased and fancy began. A story of his was : 

He had been skating on a clear, wide lake (we had been 
talking about wolves), when he heard the howling of wolves, 
and soon found they were after him. JSTow for the fun. So 
he felt fairlv safe. He no doubt wished to illustrate his 
being the best skater of his day. I suggested the danger of 
his tripping on the ice. This he had no fear of. The wolves 
came howling on. He would, when they were rushing ahead, 
strike off at a right angle, and away they would slide straight 
ahead, and he had the gain of doubling back. So he was able 
to keep command of his path for homewards. (So the story 
ends with him safe in a farm-house.) 

Another wolf story was not so easily got over. This time 
it was a friend of his who, on his journey through the woods 
(all of the wolf stories were in the State of Maine) heard the 
bay or howl of wolves, and to make sure he climbed into a 
tree. He had no difficulty getting into the tree, for it was 


on an incline, having been partly blown over. He had a rifle 
with him, a Winchester I thinlv he called it. that had its butt 
or breech filled with cartridges, holding 16 in all. He secured 
himself in a fork of the branches and awaited the attack of the 
wolves, who soon spotted him and yelped around tlie tree. The 
wolves quickly discovered the slope of the incline, and made 
to ascend. The Doctor could not give tlie number of the 
•solves — it was either 11 or 13, an odd number, he remem- 
bered. Now for it! A miss fire and he would be done for. 
On or up came the wolves. Bang! Down drops ISTo. 1. 
Again! No. 2 falls. More eager came on wolf after wolf. 
Two wolves fell at once ; the ball passing through the leading 
wolf wounds the one following him ; l)oth drop, and so on, wolf 
after wolf, the whole pack lie dead but one, wounded and 
broken-backed. Wliat a triumpli! The woodman, we may 
call liim, came down from tbe tree. The wounded wolf is 
dangerous. A spare ball settles him, and homeward hies the 
J3octor's friend. You may depend the gathering around that 
tree to see the 11 or 13 dead wolves from one rifle, was a 
caution to wolves, at least, if not to a story teller. 

I have an idea I have seen the skating story in a series of 
School Eeaders. The second stor\' is probably too strong to 
find its way into school books. 

For a catamount story, whicli his father used to tell as 
happening to liim, T have to refer you to Miss Sutherland, who 
heard it. 

Tile " Wrestler." I suppose the Doctor brought out the 
siory of the Wrestler to show he was, as he liad said, the 
champion in tliis art. He was at home attending to his college 
classes when he had a visit from an old chummy who lived in 
Xew York. He know the Doctor liad been and thought him- 
pelf an athlete of no moa.n order; but he never thought the 
college man could stand before him, far less throw hiui. Well, 
his Xew York friend, who was twice his size, would continu- 
ally refer to wrestling, and just as much the Doctor would 
declirip the offer of a tussel. This went on awhile, when in 


confidence the New Yorker wliispered lie had a sure trick, a 
grip and trip that had never failed. He undertook to teach 
the Doctor, and at last our friend assented, but conditioning 
that the New Yorker should not, from false delicacies, fail to 
show him his best. The New Yorker put it he might hurt his 
friend. " Never mind, I can stand it, I guess, but at the 
same time you must let me say, before we begin, what I mean 
to do." "All right!" "Well now, you see that pool of 
water? I will put you on your back, fairly in the middle, in 
the deepest part." So the struggle was to come off. He 
did not say if the crowd was few or many. But what was the 
result? Grip one, two, three, and before you could have said 
"Jack Robinson,"' the New York giant lay where it was said he 
should lie, in the water and the mud, face upwards, a lament- 
able instance of "how are the mighty fallen!" It is needless to 
say he did not offer to show the professor any more of his 
wrestling tricks. 

So much for his skating, wrestling, swimming, if ^'ou 
accept liis being ready to jiimp into a sea of cloud. B;it fur- 
ther. We had been schoolmates with I. S. Blaine, and at tliat 
time John G. was the foremost and famous debater of the 
College, only unable to answer the Doctor. 

Now, boys, what is the moral of all this? It is: What- 
ever you do, learn to do it well. Be first and foremost in 
skating, wrestling, swimming, in your school debates and in 
your stor3--telling, and who knows when you are 70 years old, 
all crippled up with rheumatism, you may be furnishing some 
old fellow with what you used to do when j^ou were boys in 
Nova Scotia — tlio country which, like ancient Greece and the 
State of i\[aine, should be sending out the brightest, ablest, 
wisest men of ancient or modern times. 



Here we are ! Men of all .sorts — Grits and Tories, 
Clmrclmien and Dissenters, Catholics and Freethinkers, mer- 
chants, tradesmen, workmen, manufacturers, Englishmen, 
Irishmen, Scotchmen, townsmen, countrymen, fishermen, 
farmers, seamen and ship owners; men from Cumberland, 
Yarmouth, Cape Breton; doctors, lawyers, the parson. Here 
ve are, tlie room is large. Let us choose a chairman. The 
Press will be our secretary and each can have his say. 

"Gentlemen, I mo\e the Squire take the chair." (Passed by 

Squire: "I thank you, gentlemen, for this honour. I 
shall endeavour to fnllill my duties impartially, but I must 
claim to be able, as others, to say what I think. I am, as you 
know, a (irit, and have spoken and written on the Grit side of 
the question; and as this is to be, I take it. a free, off-hand 
discussion or expression of our sentiments, I will take the 
liberty of suggesting that, with the best feelings towards each 
other, we use the plain, well-understood terms of ' Grit ' and 
' Tory ', rather than the lengthy ' Liberal ' and ' Liberal-Con- 
servative,' althougli I must premise the terms do not, to one un- 
acquainted with our politics, carry the same meaning. ' Grit ' 
conveys tlie idea of an uncompromising character, a ' stick to 
your rights' sort of man. ' Liberal' conveys the idea of im- 
provement and progress. We think of Macaula}^ Bright, Cob- 
den, Hugh Bell, Joseph Howe, Alexander McKenzie and Blake 
rather of those now immediately in front leading the 
cpposition to the (government of this coimtry. 

" ' Tory ' is a name used for sliortness i-ather than for accu- 
racy of expression. ' Tory ' in Nova Scotia conveys the idea 
we have remaining among us of the oh] Colonial Family Com- 
pact. Old Mr. Jeffery was a Tory; Michael Wallace, the elder 
Holmes, the Wilkins of Windsor, Avere such. Quite a dif- 
ferent stamp of politicians from the men leading the Govern- 
ment party, who have heartily adopted the British theory of 


Eesponsible Government, and appeal to you for yonr support at 
the elections now coming on. But I must not take up your 


" Gentlemen, don't all speak at once ; I see that gentleman 

standing up on a chair, Avith spectacles on. What do you say, 


" Mr. Chairman, you say you are a Grit. Well, sir, so am 
I. But while an appeal is made to you, as you heard a few 
nights since h\ Sir Charles Tupper, Sir John Thompson and 
Mr. Tupper, I must ask you to keep before your minds the 
manifesto of ]\Ir. Jones, a document so comprehensive, so full, 
c50 fair, so free, and not be led to desert your party. A party 
that has done so much to develop our country, a party that has 
enrolled in its ranks many of the greatest minds of the age. 
Grit I am, Grit I was, and Grit I always will be. I was 
Liberal in old times. I have been Grit since Confederation, 
and reading the Morning Chronicle every day of my life, I 
see no reason to change my opinions. Those are my senti- 

'"Thank you, sir," from the Chairman. '' The convincing 
argument of my respected friend will, I hope, have its due 
effect with the Tories who are here." 

There is a move to the right of the Chairman, and a young 
man steps forward. 

" Sir, I am of the party the Liberal-Conservatives. I can- 
not agree with you, even for the valuable consideration of 
a short name, to accept the name of Tory. My father was a 
friend of Howe. He stood by him when Huntingdon, old Sam 
Chipman and Hugh Bell, whom you have mentioned, were 
thundering at the gates, forced the Council doors, and gave to 
u? young men the management of our own affairs. Shall we 
forget these Fathers of our country ? that they were here 
to counsel us in this hour of our extremity ! The great argu- 
ment of Confederation has been fought out. Howe leading the 
country against it and staying it, but not for long. While the 
feelings of the people were with Howe, largely against it, the 


argument was with Tupper in its favour. Well-nigh half of 
our people, the whole of Canada, the wish and will of Eng- 
land declared for the Confederation of these great provinces; 
and I for one, sir, as a young man, as a Liberal-Conservative, 
am proud to be a Canadian, and shall do my best to remain 
Canadian and to defeat any attempt to alienate this country 
from the British Empire. Are the Grits mad? Do they 
think we can pass in and out of the United States, do as they 
do, buy and sell to them as among ourselves, and resist the 
indraught of thxnr great will and power? Sir, let your party 
win, and we must become part of the United States, whether 
we like it or not." 

Chureliman has the floor. 

" Sir, as I understand the question, it goes beyond the 
mere question we voted upon three years ago. Then I under- 
stood it to be largely a question of having a National Policy, 
which would buihl up home manufactures, or on the other 
side we would be as we were in our old colonial days before 
Confederation. In 1887 I voted for Messrs. Kenny and Stairs, 
but I am free to say I did not feel very strongly about it. 
Mr. Jones was, like myself, a Churchman, and I felt rather 
sorry than otherwise not to vote for him. I did not know liim 
personall}', but I knew the people he came from, the old 
Empire Loyalists, whio came down to New Brunswick and 
Nova Scotia when the old colonies revolted, and when they 
found it too hot for them to remain as citizens of the United 
States. Now, sir. I will not take up the time of this meet- 
ing, but would like to say that while I voted three vears since 
Avith some feeling of indifference for the party candidates, I 
now, in view of the great overturn which the success of the 
Opposition would make, shall vote for the Liberal-Conservative 
candidates, Messrs. Kenny and Stairs, and shall do my utmost 
to secure their election. I do iiot -want unrestricted reciprocity 
with men who have no prayer for Queen and country, and who 
will expect me to shut the door in the faces of Englishmen. 
Thank you, sir, for this opportunity of expressing my views." 


A serious-looking man asks leave to speak. 

" Sir, I am not a Churchman, nor do I call myself a dis- 
senter ; but you can understand I am what a Churchman would 
call a dissenter. From the remarks of the Churchman, or 
from his sympathy with the old Empire Loyalists, I take it, 
he is one of their descendants. He was crowded out of the 
Land of Liberty. I, sir, do not wish to be crowded into this 
same Land of Liberty, or land where you have liberty only to 
express an opinion which accords with the opinion of the 
majority. If I wanted to dissent there, I might do it on any 
religious sul)]ect I chose; but not one word contrary to public 
sentiment. If I did not worship their idols, I had better say 
Eothing about it. jSTo, sir, I like the English liberty better 
than American. I can dissent to any sentiment I disapprove 
of in England or Canada, but not in the United States of 
America. Politically I am content with the Xational Policy, 
and I shall vote accordingly." 

Catholic Elector. — '' Sir, I do not wish to intrude my 
Church views upon this very general gathering of my fellow 
citizens, but I would just say, sir, that in the British Islands, 
or the British Colonies, in Ireland itself, the Church, the old 
Church, the Churcli of the centuries, has a home, a standing, 
a respected position, better by far than it has in the United 
States. No betterment of my personal affairs, if it should 
ensue, which I doubt, shall lead me to vote for the change, or 
what may lead to the change: the Stars and Stripes where the 
Old Flag now flies.'' 

Freethinker. — " Mr. Chairman, why I am called a Free- 
thinker, or spotted as such, I do not know. It may be because 
I do not go to Church as regularly as my neighbours. But 
this I would say, I none the less believe a great God guides all 
our destinies. Sometimes He gives prosperity to try men and 
nations, some adversity to p:"cve tiem. As for free-thinking 
in general as it is understood, the belief in neither God nor 
good, but ever}'- man for himself and the nation, as the man, 
for itself, I am for none of it. I have failed in all the inter- 


change of sentiment that has reached us from the southern 
side of our boundary lines, to find one expression of goodwill, 
of well wishing, of God-speed to us in Canada. It has not 
been ' Go on and prosper,' but it has been, ' You shall not 
gTow greater by our leave, and unless you agree to it that we 
must order and direct your national life, you may look to it 
you earn our ill-will, our displeasure, our manifest disap- 
proval/ No, Mr. Chairman, I may be in some ways too much 
a Freethinker, l)ut I must hold to being a Free man." 

The Chairman is rather uneasy. He looks around. Sev- 
eral gentlemen ri.'^e to speak: dry-goods men. ^Yest India 
merchants. He catches the eye of a friendly-looking old gentle- 
man who wishes to l)e heard. He is Mr. Goodwait, of the 
firm Goodwait Brothers. 

" Sir, as you know, I am a merchant, if not of some worth, 
of at least some years. You know, sir, I have not been an 
active politician, rather inclined to support the Free Trade 
view of the policy at Ottawa. My business is to buy in the 
cheapest and sell in the dearest market. But, sir, I bow to 
the control of the assembled wisdom of my country and do 
for myself the best I can. If it was free trade with the world 
at large, as it is in England. I would, as a merchant, be 
delighted. I would then have tlie inside track of the manu- 
facturers. But as the question of your respected party is Free 
Trade with the United States, and Old England left out of a 
prospect of business, I am against it. This is on the general 
view of the case, but on my part and my firm's, as a pei-sonal 
matter, I am compelled to bo entirely against it. You may 
say: 'Can't you do as well dealing in American goods as you 
do dealing in the goods of Canada and of England?' Well, 
sir, perhaps I could if the United States was on the other side 
of the world, but as she is not, as she borders Canada for 4,000 
miles, as Boston is so near to Nova Scotia, I say, sir, without 
trying the experiment, I cannot. My firm have just got 
through their stock-taking, the ascertaining of the profit and 
loss of last year's business. Their profits have been only 


moderate, just sufficient for a wholesome business return. 
They have been looking into the way it would affect them if 
unrestricted reciprocity, which you would have us adopt, is 
to be the rule. Sir, firstly, the extent of their sales they 
might expect to decrease one-half. The expenses of their 
estalilishment can't be decreased by one-half, and if decreased, 
where would their clerks and work people be? Compare Hali- 
fax and Boston. Upon the largest amount of sales we can 
make (and our sales of last year were the largest of any which 
I have ever had to administer), our expenses for handling our 
goods, exclusive of interest on capital invested, was four and 
one-half per cent. 

" Now, sir, men doing the same class of business in Boston 
would have a turn-over of four times as much as can be secured 
in Halifax. The ex[3ense of business in Halifax being four 
and a-half per cent., and the expense in Boston being not over 
two and one-half per cent., or two in favour of Boston, where 
would our Halifax business be? It does not require much 
speech on my part to make you aware of how empty stores 
would be in a short time, the state of affairs the clerks and 
people would soon be face to face with, a journey for a living; 
they would have to follow the trade to the United States, a 
country now overcrowded with situation seekers." 

Another merchant: " I tell you sir, we will be ruined." 

Several speakers, mechanics, workmen, excited : " Sir it is 
a waste of time for us to discuss the matter. If the business 
establishments are to be closed or only half of what they now 
are, we may as well follow the clerks. WTiat new branching 
out may we expect that will give us employment? It will 
only be a few repairs — no new work." 

Manufacturer: "Sir, if a merchant calculates tlie per- 
centage of expense on his sales, I much more so on my manu- 
fa<?tures. If I make 100 of a specific article and just pay 
expenses, if I can make 110, I find I am doing well. If I 
fall off in my output to 90, I am on the road to bankruptcy. 
I leave the rest with the electors." 


Judge : " Sir, I have listened with close attention. I 
know nothing of trade and less of manufactures, but I am 
always pleased when I see signs of well-doing — when I see 
plate glass windows warranted by the profitable trade of the 
shops they lighten; when I see the delivery vans, butchers, 
grocers and dry goods driving briskly around. I like the 
looks of the well-dressed children on Sunday on tlie way to 
church. The sight of new houses going up in the new streets ; 
street cars going through these streets, it pleases me much as 
I saunter homewards. 

" I liave some savings. I own some bank stock; it makes 
to me a moderate return. The banks have been having their 
meetings; their statements are fresh before those who have 
any stock. They (the banlvs) have paid some six and some 
seven per cent. di\ddends, and after paying these dividends 
have very important additions to these 'rests', as they are 
called. The local banks have in this form, in the year past, 
increased their resources, taking them all together, over 
$300,000, nearly equal to $1,000 a day for each working day 
of the year. 

" 'Now, sir, if the merchant, the mechanic, the workman and 
the manufacturer are to be affected, as I hear them say they 
will be, where, I ask, sir, will be the continued profitable busi- 
ness of the banks? Where will be the wholesome accmnu- 
lations of reserves, the strength of all good banking? 

" No, sir, what is good for the bee is good for the hive. 
Take a student of history's advice: Co slowly, go surely. Don't 
drive these people away. Don't have them singing the lament 
of expatriation, the ' Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan 
him, but weep for him who is the exile from the home of his 
fathers.' " 

Tliis stirred the Englishman; this roused the Irishman; 
the Scotchman's brows were bent, liis lips compressed. Towns- 
men, countrymen were ready for action. They looked mis- 
chievous and angry, as crowds will look at times of deep 
feeling — signs of ^^'arning not to go too far. 


An Old Fisherman : " Mr. Cliairman, we don't want the 
Yankees inside the three-mile limit. Last fall we had a grand 
chance ; the mackerel struck in off Portuguese Cove, and we, I 
tell you, made the most of them. The Yankees had to stay 

" Mr. Chairman, you said Mr. Jones' (our member) mani- 
festo was so fair, so free, so full. Sir, it was not so full as 
he could have made it, if he liked. He said nothing about the 
bounty-fed fish he bought from St. Pierre, breaking down our 
market. All right ! He is a merchant, a Free Trader, but in 
this case he was not my representative; he wasn't voting for 
me when he bought those fish, and now his friends are asking 
me to vote for him. 

" Sir, I am quite content. I remember when I sold mack- 
erel at two dollars a barrel, and now, or last fall. I got four- 
teen dollars a barrel. Would I have had the mackerel to sell 
if the Yankee schooner could have followed the fish into the 
bay? As it was, they broke up the schools." 

A Voice : "Let us hear from the farmers." 

Farmer : " I have been in town to sell my cattle. I knew 
before I came how it was. Cheap beef comes from Ontario, 
cheaper will come from Chicago. This will be no good to me. 
My county grows great crops of potatoes and apples. If you 
must have Free Trade, I shall make the most of my potatoes 
in the Boston market, and a fair lot of our best apples will go 
that way. The potato trade is not a very sure one ; a large 
crop in the United States, and we had better keep ours at 
home. But, sir, although potatoes and apples will do well in 
the United States, I am not going to lose my head. My vote 
won't make much difference; the farmers of Ontario will have 
it in hand. If it rested with me I would vote for my country, 
even if it sliould leave us as we are in selling our potatoes and 

The Chairman: " Gentlemen, the 5th of March will show 
us how it is to be, and so we will scatter." 


BY W. J. STAIRS, IN 1877. 

A Merchant's Needs. 

In the arts of life, Rules of Guidance are laid down, based 
upon the experience of former ages. The young mechanic 
has his training; whatever his trade may be his master teaches 
him its rules. The carpenter, the painter, the smith, the 
farrier, all in their apprenticeship are shown the rules and 
methods of their craft. 

In the fine arts it is the same. ]\Iusic, Drawing and Color- 
ing, all have their rules. Writers and orators construct tlieir 
letters and their speeches upon the principles laid down by 
the grand old masters of thouglit and action. 

It has often occurred to me that the merchant, who has a 
noble profession, is left too much to grope his way, without 
the aids that might be given him if the experience of the past 
was more preserved and better used. 

It may be presumptuous that I should venture to give 
rules for so high a calling, yet I feel sure some will listen to 
an honest effort to make use of the experience of years. I 
shall be sure of welcome, if I write or say any word worth 
remembering; may I hope for pardon, if such word I do not 
or cannot say. 

Young men, why am I stirred to this effort? It is because 
I know so many undervalue an art I so dearly prize. 

At a Convocation of Governors, Professors and Students of 
Dalhousie College, I, as a Governor, had to sit and listen to a 
charge against the merchants of Halifax, — tliat learning had 
small charms for them. Thus it was put: — " The merchant's 
thought for his son was that, at too early an age, he should 
be placed in business. For what? To serve honorably, in 
the gathering and dispersing of earth's commodities, with 
care, prudence and integrity, and to live by his labour accord- 
ing to its merit, — ^humbly, or fairly, or splendidly? No, not 


for this; but it was put, and to be correct, I will quote from 
the Inaugural Address: 

" The usual parental hypothesis being, that the first object 
" of living is money; that the second is still to make money; 
" and the third is like unto the second. The children are 
" turned, at the earliest possible time, into business machines, 
" though I fear, and from what I see can believe, — that they 
" are not specially successful ones. The parental justification 
" of this mental starvation of the young is, ' Oh, if you want 
" to succeed in our business, you must begin early. Education 
" is no doubt a very fine thing, but in this practical age, and 
" in this particular case, there is no time for it.' '* 

And again there is an allusion to the men " who are 
starving the intellectual life of their children, and bringing 
them, perforce, to believe that money, with its accessories, is 
the one thing needful." No word in the merchant's life, of 
necessity for early practice, — no word of truth, of right, of 
honor, of the old rule that has been always golden, and is 
only second to the great law of life. 

If I can show that to make money is not the chief end of 
trade, but when made is the reward of fine qualities, as much 
as the flocks and herds of Abraham were his blessing, I shall 
have achieved my task. If I awaken in any young man a 
pride in his profession, I shall have done well. Gentlemen, 
I will try. 

Looking around among my fellow merchants to observe 
the qualities which insure success, the first that strLl^es me is 
their Industry; the second. Integrity; thirdly, Steadfast- 
ness; chiefly, the well-balanced mind which, with faith, trusts 
the unseen. 

This enumeration may be said to be common to success in 
any of the arts of life. Largely it is so, but not in equal 
degree. The poet or the painter must have industry, but 
there is no necessary connection between his success and hia 
integrity. He must be steady, but he may have no faith in 
men or things as he goes forward. The qualities we have 


marked out will be found most needful for our merchant, and 
if it shall appear that he can least dispense with these quali- 
ties, \\e trust his high standing will be apparent from the 
need of these high qualities to give him a standing. 

Before we advance to special study of our subject, stop 
for a moment to consider: Did you ever know or hear of an 
eminent merchant who was not Industrious, Honest, Steady 
and True? Are these qualities only good to help us to make 
money, — firstly, secondly and thirdly? Is men's faith in 
merchants less than in learned professors, or doctors, or 
lawyers ? Could a clergv-man be of mighty eloquence, — grand 
to preach, poor in practice, imtrained by his calling, in the 
hour of trial but a broken reed ? Many classes fail, untrained 
by their callings. , 

Statesmen arise, — they take the lead in nations, — acliieve 
much good, and yet of how many of them can it be said they 
have the virtues of a simple merchant, who buys and sells 
with the confidence of all aromid, holding the balances as 
fairly for another as for himself? 

I have said Art has its rules upon which the master shows 
his ])upil how to construct his work, and yet high art is not 
rule worked out, but rule is rather high art brought do\\Ti 
to its simpler definitions. 

In the progress of my argimient, I shall not attempt too 
much to define tbe modes of trade by sales, but endeavour by 
its review as a whole, to discover its cardinal points, and 
having foimd such, to make our course, following example as 
well as precept. A man may take tlie altitude of the sun by 
rule. He cannot by any rule that I know of, however closely 
observed, land a trout. Observe the angler; he has some 
rules, and verv c^ood ones. He savs it is useless to fish in 
the boat of the day, in bright sunshine. He drops his flics 
skilfully; no one can say wby the fish rise to his fly, while the 
fly of tlu^ novice is unnoticed. Rules alone will not serve; 
practice must give sleight of hand, and in this skill will be 
found the success which rule could not secure. 


This brings up the importance of our seeking, in the 
example of eminent men, an instructor which cannot be 
found "\A'ith precepts of wisdom. Both precept and example 
must be kept before us. 

A Professor of Moral Philosophy would not be an all-suf- 
iicient guide for a merchant's needs. Though he might pro- 
fitably warn against the worship of false gods, the money lust, 
tlie haste to make rich, yet I am afraid he would l>e over 
anxious, he would fear where there was no danger. Like the 
hen with ducklings, he would have no experience of much 
that was essential. The student of mathematics, who could 
construct the Eules of Logarithms, and with all the arts of 
navigation woidd be a poor pilot in the dense fog which some- 
times envelops our coast. 

The fisherman of our shores who. knowing no rules, but 
every sign or sound, the colour of the sea, the roar of the surf, 
will strike the harbour's mouth and bring the ship to a safe 
anchorage, while the professor's best safety would be in yield- 
ing the helm to the humbler man. 

In these observations, which may be tedious, I wish, merely 
to attract your attention to our mode of proceeding. The 
question the young man will ask himself is : How am I best 
to succeed if I take up the trade of a merchant? I wish to 
be a merchant, to make my living. I see it is, as a whole, 
more promising than some other trades; and after comparing 
it with other callings he thinks it promises better, and so 
adopts it. He may be mistaken in thinking it the best pur- 
suit, but unless he thinks so, he will not succeed. 

in the very outset we see, that to succeed the young man 
must give his heart to his work. The first work of a boy on 
entering a shop or merchant's office is often irksome. It must 
be endured until use and wont prevail to make it pleasant. 
Assume the age of the boy to be, as it generally is, sixteen 
years. At this age, having had the education common to 
youths who have not passed on to college life, he is master 


of such arithmetic as a shop requires; he should write easily 
to himself and satisfactorily to his employer. 

1 am not writing a treatise on education, or I would stop 
to enquire what he knoAvs, how he has improved his oppor- 
tunity. I take it he is equal to the lads who have heen his 
schoolfellows and are going to college, while he is going into 
trade. But 1 cannot pass the point without calling attention 
to the want in Halifax of a High School, the missing link, as 
it has been called, in the union of our common schools and 
colleges, and to best prepare our sons for trade. Of this I 
hope you will liear more before the winter is over. 

In going into business, at first the boy is pleased with the 
fact of being useful, and is kept running ahout; to fetch and 
to carry, to come and to go, is his work. He gets very tired 
with his day's work and is glad when he gets home at night. 
If he is well and a fairly strong lad, his life agrees with him ; 
he sleeps soundly, rises early, and if with a good master and 
among good fellow clerks, is in as good a school as could he 
desired. From having had much freedom as a school boy, 
he feels his new life a restraint upon his personal liberty; 
but of this he soon recovers, and the weariness of the young 
clerk gives way to an interest in all that goes on around him. 
Do not think I am dwelling too much on the boy. Great 
reverence is due unto a hoy. so the ancients put it. While 
my words are to boys, yet to the boy's mother, Avho has so 
much the formation of his character in her charge, I would 
also speak. I must be short. 

His life religious is in your care, the life moral with him 
is chiefly yours; in the life political and economical, the 
mother not less than father gives the bias to his after life. 

And now, my young li-iend, it is for you, at this point, to 
form the habit of Industry, which is to be one of the elements 
of your success. To he industrious you must take pleasure 
in your work, otherwise you will be but dull and spiritless. 
You must take an interest in the work that is going on around 
you. Generally boys do. This is my ejxperience, going back 


tc the days when I was a boy among others, and behind the 
scenes of their likes and dislikes. 

I have no remembrance of any young man who failed in 
this essential. Since I have been an employer of young men, 
1 have had no cause to think them indifferent to my interests. 
So much for my observation of others; one word for myself, 
if I may do so. When I entered my father's store 1 was 
fifteen years of age. I had spent the last two years away 
from home at a Public School, where I was almost my own 
master, under little control, but with others whose influence 
was not bad. I had sufficient insight into books, and the 
pleasure of learning to know that in going into trade I was 
passing into what I then thought a lesser rather than a higher 

I should have preferred a College course, — not so much 
for the profession to which it might lead, as from the pleasure 
of reading the Classics, and continuing the society of many 
to wJiom I was sincerely attached. 

For years 1 did not like trade, but at once I set myself 
to practise and master it, and I assure you the overcoming of 
this feeling of distaste was to me a pleasure. The sense of 
mastership is always exliilarating and carries its own joy. 

Some of you may think I had an easy task, but this I will 
say, that, although in my father's store, I never had any work 
less agreeable than the other boys. In well ordered busi- 
nesses this is always so with masters' sons. It is English 
habit. The best there are spared, neither in trade nor public 
service, their share of the roughest work. Any country, or 
family, or firm, who bring up their sons to an easier routine 
cf work than they allot to those whom they employ, will 
enervate their sons, and soon the opportunity of ease will have 
passed away beyond recall. 

And now yoimg man, having learned as a boy the daily 
routine of a shop or store, taking in by practice a knowledge 
of the goods you have to handle, and this it is very important 
should be learned while young, you will soon be called upon 


to iill a place of higher trust and confidence. For the benefit 
of those who iiave no l-cnowledge of trade^, 1 wouid explain 
at this point tliat a boy has to go to work at a rather early 
age. That which is learned at the age when boys are intelli- 
gently taking in from all that is around them, when they are 
opening upon manhood, is in after life best retained. 

The young man from college at one and twenty has re- 
ceived liis fill of a class of knowledge which takes the place 
of what may be called the initial instruction of the young 
merchant or tradesman. 

Suppose a man never to have been called upon to liandLe 
a piece of flannel or cotton until, after a college course, he 
joined a merchant's store. He would not attain so good or 
keen a knowledge of the quality and value of such goods as 
if, as a boy of sixteen, he had watched the way in which the 
customer who used such goods would examine and handle 
them. The power of judging goods, tlie art of valuing them, 
among any men 1 knew, was all learnt in tlie days of their 
early clerkship. 

Are you, my young friends, industriously becoming ac- 
quainted with tlie goods you daily handle? //' you arc not, 
depend upon it, you will not overtake it in after life, when 
you will want the knowledge to tell upon your own trade. 

It is in this as in every other line of life. I have known 
men v.ho as boj^s worked upon the farm, and when grown 
up. have gone to school. ^Vith what result? See the strong 
young man, pondering over his Latin Grannnar, — studying 
hard. He daily prepares his lessons better than the boys of 
the school who had begim at an early age. You would thinlc 
to see the two, the careful student of i\\o and twenty and the 
boy of nrtcen, — the man would out and out excel. How was 
itY The boy, from his hal)it of thought, trained early, made 
a scholar. I never knew a lat^ student to make a clever 
scholar. TTe might bo learned, but never quick. He, like a 
heavy bird, rose slowly on the wing. 


So boys, my advice to you is, if you vash to learn your 
business well, remember it is as boys that you liave to take in 
all the knowledge and skill that will be the easiest retained 
and most gracefully used. 

Before passing away from this point of your lives let me 
urge you not to neglect your books. A word for college lore. 
The discipline of classes, the contact with others, our compe- 
titors in mental efl'ort, should be made the most of, and it is 
now quite possible to supplement the Common School edu- 
cation with something higher. 

If the need for early practice is such that the young man 
has to devote himself to it, yet how much may be gained 
through our winters when Dalhousie is open to those who, 
as General Students, may attend the lectures of the Profess- 
ors? All may not be able to get away from business, yet 
many can. Will employers second their clerks in some 
arrangement to secure a course at college ? Will fathers give 
their sons a chance? 

And vouncr g-entlemen, if vou studv the lives of eminent 
men, you will find it has been by grasping at such opportu- 
nities and even much less, that they have acquired the know- 
ledge that carried them upward. 

From the late Inaugural Address at Dalhousie. I would 
quote what struck me as good words: 

" The value of a college training extends, as you know, 
" far beyond any direct application to one's future profession 
" or calling. It places you upon a wider platform of ideas, 
" opens up Avider avenues of thought, give^ a dignity 
" and interest to the otherwise rather monotonous duty of 
" living, or, if it does not actually accomplish these things, 
" it tends at least to make them more possible, and if it fail 
" in this object the fault is all your own." 

I quote these words because I value tliem. If we have 
been f^tung, we have also been admonished. 

I have said, do not neglect your books. Read closely. 
Ijet not the insight your school-boy days gave you of what 


books contain be lost. Study history of men and nations. 
Whatever you read, don't neglect Shakespeare. With the 
Bible and Shakespeare, Kossuth taught himself not only Eng- 
lish, but the best of English. 

Eiographies of good men must be studied, but if you have 
no library of good men's lives, do wliat is better, read good 
men themselves. The lawyer, the clergj'man, and the doc- 
tor know much of human nature in its varied phases. The 
lawyer sees the worst side of men; the clergyman the best as 
well as the worst; the doctor knows more than they both, for 
he reads the body as well as the mind. 

What has tJiis to do with a shop boy? The shop boy gets, 
and Ijest gets, a knowledge of men as a shop boy. The con- 
tinual meeting of the general public in a way where mind 
and motive lie so openly upon the surface as they do to a boy 
in a shop, is a school more thorough than that which teaches 
the lawyer, the clergyman and the doctor. He is a boy of 
small observation who does not soon spot the meanness of the 
customer who decries what he wants to purchase. In the 
haggle of the market human nature shows itself to be good 
or bad. A fair and open buyer, meeting a fair and honest 
seller, are fit companions for the gods, and a capital sclux)! 
for boys. A mean buj'er, tricky and fibbing, the boy learns 
to checkmate, and if he sells to him he carefully guards his 
master's rights, and in after life becomes himself master 
among men in virtue of tlie knowledge of the motives which 
he knows may govern men. A boy learns the very footfall of 
a schemer and equally the briskness of an honest nuin. George 
Peabody, the great London merchant, learned in a Yankee 
store who to irust, and who to avoid. 

Let me mention what I consider young men should do 
wliile young. The customer of the house you should treat 
with the most particular courtesy and kindness. Many little 
services you can n-nder to those who trade with the firm you 
serve, which come better from young men than fj-om the em- 
ployer or heads of the house. I have known boys to annise 


themselves in making fun of those to whom they should have 
been kind and civil. I have known other boys who, with 
quickness, would anticipate the wants and wishes of humble 
folks, and the more humble the more the kindness was felt, 
and afterwards returned. 

This, let me tell you, is a good sign : if a courteous man or 
boy from the country, among our more simple population, our 
farming and fishing people, is called by his Christian name. 
If a boy in a i^tore attending to the men Avho come from their 
schooners or from their teams, is called with familiarity, 
though kindly, by his Christian name, you may be sure he is 
both iilved and trusted. 

If I was setting up in business as a 5'oung man, and if 
offered £1,000 of capital as a free gift, or to be familiarly 
known ns "William," it implying that I was liked and trusted, 
I would consider the " William " was the better capital of the 
two. A proud, reserved man, who resents a kindly familiarity, 
is a fool. 

It was always Joe Howe, John Esson, John Duffus, Ben 
Wier; and if shorter, a.s Joe, or Jolin. or Ben, so much the 
more worth. 

Habits of industry are acquired in youth, and once 
acquired, do not desert their possessor, and some woidd say 
must lead on to fortune. 

We may now profitably pass on to consider the course of 
the merchant when he has, with a fair knowledge of his 
trade, set up for himself. If the merchant has not tlie habit 
of industry he may be at once dismissed, as sure to pass on in 
these days of competition to the Court of Bankruptcy. 

He may, however, have a style of work which is in itself 
unprofitable and fruitless. There is a fussiness which yields 
no profit, there is a laboriousness which overlooks profitable 



I knew a hard-working man, a miller, who worked early 
and late. — but had a great passion, it must have been, for 
driving his own team. He was getting to be an old man, 
when he complained to me that he was, ^vith all his hard 
work, but little more tiian a poor man. I was struck with 
Ills case, but, thinking of it, I said to him that he was him- 
self to blame ; he had worked too hard. He said " How ?" He 
did not see how a man could work too hard in his own in- 
terest. I said, " You have driven your own team, up and 
down." I'es, he had. "Well," I said, "you have done car- 
ter's work, and you liave received carter's wages." He had no 
right to complain, 

iSTow to the industrious merchant I would say : Yours is 
a skillful profession, be sure you do skilled work. 

Successful merchants have a quality best described as 
" Push." Common industry loses much if it is not enforced 
by this (|uality. It accomplishes results that steady work is 
unecjual to. A ship comes into port to discharge and take in 
a cargo. The pushing man gets her away with despatch; 
the merely steady man does not so inspire all around him 
with the spring that accomplishes the work, and the ship 
remains longer in port, to the detriment of her owner. 

There are also higher qualities, as promptness and 
decision, wliich may be cidtivated and improved, but will 
always be easier for some men than for others. The slow man 
makes a poor attendant at an auction sale; wliile he is pon- 
derously thinking, down goes the hammer, and "\nth it his 
chance of purchasing that which he was wanting. 

If a bill of exchange is to be bought or sold, the broker 
gives no time for thinking slowly. Trade has its shots upon 
the wing! 

Our argmnent has assumed that a merchant must bo indus- 
trious, must have pusli, promptness and decision; yet what are 
these qualities without integrity, without truth, without com- 
mon honest}-? They may succeed for a while, but only until 


men discover so strange a thing exists as a Trade witliout 

You may wonder at an okl merchant writing of so strange 
a case as a Trade without Truth. It is my experience that 
in this country men bred to trade — of the okl Saxon race, — 
are honest men. I speak of the Saxon race, for they are here- 
ditary traders, trading qualities are in them set and have be- 
come part of tlieir nature. I have trusted men freely and 
with but little loss; and where I have hesitated to trust, it 
has often been from a feeling of their want of skill ratheH 
than their want of honesty. But at the same time, remember 
my experience goes back forty years, mostly before the modern 
Bankrupt Act made compromise legal, and very easy, and 
with a low percentage. I am not sure I am a safe pilot in 
these hititudes. I do not know that men are as sensitive to 
unpaid de))ts as tliey were thirty or even ten years ago. 

1 liave used the word "common honesty." This I take to 
mean honesty in its more distinct phases. To give good 
weiglit, not to disguise a quality, to be exact in reckoning, to 
pay our debts without any evasion, I would cover by the term 
" common honesty."' These acts of honesty are common alike 
to all who sell wliat they may produce, — the farmer, the 
fisherman, the mechanic. 

The merchant has a large trust and must have a more 
generous integrity than that ruled by the simple charge not 
to steal or to defraud. 

Let me, if possible, e^xplain. The farmer gi-ows a 
bushel of grain and takes it to market. He has simply to 
show an honest sample and to ask and get the best price he 
can for it. He hears that sales of corn were made last mar- 
ket day at $1.00 a bushel. He thinks it right to ask $1.10, or 
a dollar and twenty cents, and if an expert buyer gives a 
price above that of the last market day, he feels it is all right, 
that some change in far away markets warrants this advance. 

A merchant in many of his transactions is similarly situ- 
ated. He tries the market by asking the price in advance 


of the late prices, and if he gets it from a skillful buyer, he 
may be sure it is a fair one. But a merchant has in the great- 
est number of cases to deal with men who, from a distance, 
intrust him to fix the price between him and them ; and now 
it is the iiuiii will show, while he has his own interests to sub- 
serve, he has to put himself in the place of the liuyer. He 
has to drive as hard a bargain against himself as he knows 
his correspondent would do if he were present and not con- 
ducting the purchase by correspondence. 

A good man, with a clear head, will so conduct such busi- 
ness as comes to him by a letter, that his correspondent will 
wish for no other mode of trade. 

An honourable merchant will not write abroad thatwliich 
is not strictly true; he will not, with a power gained by con- 
stant dealing, overpersuade Ms neighbour in matters of value. 
I have known the cunning man to put off upon the less expe- 
rienced one, goods in a fallen market, — flatter and persuade 
liim. I have seen the bitten one groaning, that he had 
" bought the rabbit." What is this gain of a dollar a barrel 
upon one hundred barrels of flour to compare with the scorn 
of men tiiat follow such transactions? He may say of his 
neighbour, " His eyes were his market." I would say, '' He 
wronged the man." 

" Do as you would be done by " is a more comprehensive 
law than " thou shalt not steal." 

An honourable merchant will more than protect the rights 
of his client, he will protect the good name and interests of 
his rival in trade. Call on a good man to open up a trans- 
action, and he will be sure to ask with whom in the same line 
of business you have been trading, and like enough he will 
show yon that ho has no power to serve you better than the 
house or firm from which you may have carelessly turned 

He docs not care for customers too whimsical. If you 
were treated fairly, you should yourself be fair. Be frank 


and open. Frankness is truth, sparlding with humour and 

The staid and steady man does not like men given to 
change. But what would you say of the man, who though 
he would be safe to give good weight and fair quality, would 
run down a neighbour's goods, and by baits and underselling 
would catch a customer for himself away from another? 

The world might call him an honest man. His neigh- 
bour who knew his tricks, would not likely esteem him highly. 
Such things I have seen, and while passing would say, — 
That I never, though often annoyed and mortified, have in 
the long run had any cause to say I really lost or suffered by 
such conduct; I never knew a mean or dirty trick of trade 
that did not punish its perpetrators. Some may say compe- 
tition warrants such strife. I do not tliinic we should covet 
our neighbour's customers any more than we should covet his 

I have known men to be glad, and to chuckle OA^er a mis- 
understanding tliat gave them trade. This is mean; a good 
man wtJiJ not do so. 

Good weight, fair quality, just prices, a nice regard for 
the interests of those with whom he deals, an honourable 
truthfulness towards his competitor in trade, is what we 
expect from a prosperous man; we will not be content with 

But how is it with him who, from want of skill or oppor- 
tunity, is not a prosperous man; v/ho having made bad debts 
or from the shrinkage of the value of his goods, overborne 
by charges of interest, taxes and rents out of proportion to his 
business, finds his capital daily wasting away, then finds he 
has not enough to pay his debts? Then comes the horrid 
thouarht that he is riskina; and wasting other men's monev. 
What should be the man's course? He should halt and 
shake himself free. That men rarely ever halt while they 
can float alons: is too much the case. Failure follows. Their 
fellow merchants seldom are hard, often forgiving ; generally 


Buch a case is anticipated. Fellow feeling and kindly charity- 
is shown to the unfortunate man who docs his best to gather 
all that may be gotten from the wreck. Pie will be helped 
again. This is for him who has struggled against and never 
planned his failure. 

But the man who coolly calculates that a large and 
v/idespread wreck will give him the opportunitv of making a 
profitable compromise, I will not stop to speak. I say, out 
upon the man. Never trust him again. He may have a 
fine house, and an accomplished family, may sit liigh in the 
s}Tiagogue; he shall liave no friendship of ours. 

Young men, I have tried to impress upon vou the im- 
portance of industry and integrity. A man of industrious 
habits, but not honest, will not make a merchant. But even 
if honest and industrious he must have the quality of steadi- 
ness or perseverance; "if unstable as Avater, he sliall not 
excel." He must cl^oose a line of business and stick to it. 
The rule of division of labour is more and more coming in to 
the rule of business. Specialties are more and more assert- 
ing Themselves. I strongly recommend concentrating your 
labour and energy upon a distinct business. In old times 
business was much mixed. A man sold all general commodi- 
ties his customers wanted, — cotton, cloth, iron and groceries. 
The first division of trade I remember in Halifax was, firstly, 
a stationer's store, then a hat store, then a shoe store. Dry 
goods and hardware each set up for themselves. Groceries 
and liquors went together, now each branch is again divided. 
I see a young man pushing a trade in sugar, another house 
selling tea, and so on. In older countries it is still more so. 

Under the head of steadiness I would recommend this 
division of labour and concentration of energy upon one pur- 
suit. It is probably not so interesting as a diverse business, 
but if more in accord with the times, it must be the rule. 

I would also call attention to the importance of the young 
mercliant being a thorough bookkeeper. Let nothing short 
of keeping your books by double entry satisfy you, no system 


of single entry can be relied on. Double entry can be easily 
mastered. It is not as profound as the First Book of Euclid, 
although I am sorry to say many who have mastered Euclid 
have never mastered Bookkeeping. No other system ^\'il,l 
give confidence in your business reckoning. It is simply that 
every entry in your books is posted to the debit of one account 
and the credit of another. If your books balance, that is, 
add up alike on each side, the right hand and the left, then 
you may be assured you have written and added them cor- 
rectly. Beyond this you have only to classify your accounts 
to suit your own convenience. A term at the Commercial 
College should be of great help to the young man going into 

I am not sure that other classes would not be the better 
of an insight into the practical modes of account. 

A chapter might here be wiitten on the importance to a 
merchant of small gains and exact dealings and savings. A 
man might be industrious, honest and persevering, and yet 
from a loose mode of business might permit small leaks about 
his establishment, which would steal away the cream of his 
profits. By such leaks I mean carelessness in small matters, 
odds and ends of time wasted by clerks and porters, losses by 
interest and all charges on stock allowed to lie about, rather 
than pushed even at a sacrifice into a return of the capital 

Some firms have a bad fashion, it may be called a vice, 
that of keeping a stock on hand out of proportion to their 
sales. I have known embarrassment to ensue from no other 
cause; young men are apt to keep too much stock on band. 
It takes a good deal of experience to teach the back pull of 
interest; it is a silent, never ceasing drawback; so please be 
warned, and pardon my thinking it of importance enough 
to brino- to vour notice. 

Eemember, the saved shilling becomes the seed of a hun- 
dred. I do not know of any law of aritlmietic which wiU 


measure fast enough the growing power of a saved capitd. 
►Saved capital, not the iulierited capital or the capital secured 
by a hicky hit; it not only increases mathematically, but it 
secures an independence of immense value. And yet while 
acknowledging the power of saving, beware of that hateful 
Vice, — the avarice which gTows with age. 

Enterprise. — I sliould like to descant upon tJiis feature of 
a merchant's character, from its popular side, — the view 
which general writers indulge in, but in all honesty I must 
be careful. 

I cannot say that I consider it to be a cardinal need for 
tlie complete character of a merchant, if by enterprise is meant 
something in a man of business Avhich is extra or foreign to 
its pro])er sphere. 

Enterprise, siaeculation and over-trading are not the same, 
but they are nearly allied, and taper as it were from the first 
to tJie last. 

To tlie young man who is using a borrowed capital, I 
would sa}', be not allured by others' enterprises; of your o^\^3 
look well to the chances. 

Plodding, tliough seemingly less generous, is the safer 
of the two. 

To the wealthy merchant who has a surplus to invest, I 
would not tender advice; he is well ahle to direct his own 
att'airs. That which is a dangerous speculation to a man of 
moderate means is to the wealthy man but an interesting 
stimulant of trade. 

Let wealthy men, v.diile they are yet young enough to be 
I'opeful and old enough to be careful, let them be our enter- 
prising men, and the}- must be prepared to meet witli losses 
as well as gains. I could, but will not, allude to some of oiir 
Nova Scotia cntf'rprises in which merchants' capital has 
been sunk. There are some "which carry with them so noble 
a purpose that oA-en loss is gain. 

We have opened coal mines with a daring zeal; our Yar- 
mouth friends have, in their railroad, sliown that thev could 


launch out boldly, and they deserve our praise and admir- 

The Atlantic telegraph venture was such an enterprise. 
The pioneers lost their money, their successors have a pro- 
fitable investment. 

But balance it ivelL Most men will tell you that they 
have not made a profit upon enterprises outside of their own 

There are many old saws to fix this upon our memories. 

After what I have said of the qualities a young man should 
have to ensure success, I think I hear some young man saying, 
" But what is the use of my being industrious, honest and 
steady ? I have no capital to begin with." 

This is a mistake. If a man cultivates those qualities, he 
has a capital. He will get both credit and customers. I take 
it for granted he has that extra half ounce of brains so indis- 
pensable to success. How does it work? Trade is largely 
carried on by capitalists, who, the larger their Imsiness grows, 
have to manage it more by routine than by the personality 
of their partners. 

The head of a large house cannot give his personal 
attention to much of its business, it is under strict rules, man- 
aged Ijy clerks. 

The 5'oung man managing his own affairs personally can 
secure a trade by his very personality. The old houses have 
their capital and routine; the young man, by a personal in- 
tercourse with his customer, wins his regard and possible 
friendship. Men are not machines, they like to see and knovsr 
each other; and it is evident that the advantage in this way 
is on the side of the yoimg; while on the other hand the old 
houses have greater experience and the advantage of old con- 

But for the comfort of young men, I would have them 
remember that most of the old houses have been founded by 
men whose chief capital was their personality, their power of 
being useful to those whom they served. 


Of a merchant's needs I have written chiefly, the ivell- 
halanced mind wliicli, with faith, trusts the unseen. I hope 
before we are done you will feel that this is not a stilted sen- 
timent, fuller of sound than sense. Dwelling upon it, I could 
not see what was the worth of industry, honesty and perse- 
verance, of all the power of making or saving money, if after 
all there was no faith. 

The merchant has large calls for faith. Without this 
quality credits, pTanted to other men, will be but gamlv 
ling upon the chances; trading upon the laws of average. 
True, these laws of averasfe are verv good, and wlien men can- 
not personally know each other, must be used. 

But what a heartless substitute for the kindly confidence 
begotten of mutual appreciation, a knowledge of each other's 
worth, and a trust in the good tliat is in men. 

The best merchants have ever been the most trusting. 
Some would say, never trust a man until you know him. I 
would say — rather advise, — trust that you may Icnow him. 
Let this, however, be done with prudence; do not venture 
with so much in anv man's keeping, if unproved, that its loss 
would embarrass ; in liomely proverb. " Do not put too many 
eggs in one basket." 

Have faith in principles. Have courage to look to the 
right, to say " No," when it should be said, courteously but 

So nmch for worldly prudence. For the faith that looks 

higher, cultivate that confidence in the unseen, that you shall 

have assurance that, come gain or come loss, all comes from 

the hand of the kind Euler of events. 

" Pour forth thy fervor for a healthful mind, 
Obodiont passions and a will rosifiiTiod ; 
For putionce, sovereion o'er transmuted ill, 
For love that scarce collective man can fill, 
For faith, that, pantinj? for a liij?her state, 
Counts death kind nature's signal for retreat." 

These lines from Doctor Johnson contain a proverbial 

philosophy that would take time to exhaust. 


How the old growler pounded with his maxims ! He 
assumed a roughness to hide liLs large heart. 

What man or merchant, to whom th.e healthful mind is 
not the complement of all his worth? 

Obedient passions and the will resigned are not the 
inheritance of any; they are only won in the lessons of life, 
longer or shorter as the grace of God prevails. 

Patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill. Of very few it can 

be said, while in the whirl of business, that this great virtue 

is tlieirs ; but I Icnow of no finer sight than to see the man v,dio 

has been impatient, petulant, almost fierce. gTadually under 

the discipline of a business life, and ^nth increasing years 

grow mellow and kindly to all around. — like the best wine, 

which does not sour but improves with age. 

" For love that scarce collective man can fill, 
Proper and fullest blessing of a Christian life, 
For faith, that, panting for a higher state, 
This grace sublime, 
This gate of Heaven, 
This need of all, 
I leave the world's great teachers to enforce." 

Gentlemen, have I persuaded you that a merchant's needs 
are of the highest class? He cannot do with less. His call- 
ing is a high and honourable one, requiring the highest quali- 
ties most assiduously cultivated. They generally end in 
wealth. Take to them, not for their end, but for tlie daily 
discipline they ensure. Show that it is no disparagement 
to be a merchant. 

I had thought to stop here, l3ut feel as if a word more 
thould be added. 

In the discussion of a merchant's needs, while we have 
dwelt upon the value of a practical Imowledge, a teclinical 
knowledge more correctly, which has to be gained in youth 
to be acquired well, we must not, in these days in which a 
higher style of education is becoming more general, overlook 
such higher education. 


The learned professions, from time immemorial, have 
taken rank above tlie arts of trade. On the very surface we 
see good reason for tliis. 

The clerg-yiiian has to instruct his parishioners in the 
great truths of Holy Writ. The English version being only 
a translation, tliongh mostly used, had to be fortified by- 
ap])eal to the original, in the ancient languages. The clergy- 
man had to be a scliolar. Not so with the merchant of the 
country village. Re gathered the corn, and sold the cloth, 
or iron, or tea, or sugar, without, in olden times, being able 
tc read an English book. To cast accounts was the great 
desideratum — the bounds of his learning. 

The lawyer wlio, undertaking to make men's causes his 
own, and defend and plead before all comers in the gi'eat 
courts of law, had of necessity to be as highly educated as 
the best he might meet. ]\Iuch law might be quoted from 
the Greeks and I'omaus. If he was masterless he would be 
but a poor protector for the wronged, and would have but 
few if any clients. 

Not so the merchant, he having customers depending more 
upon the quality and price of his goods than upon his edu- 
cational superiority. 

The physician has always been a learned man. Medical 
science has come down from the old Greeks. His title is 
Greek. The names of diseases are mostly Greek. \Yho but 
a Greek scholar could nicely comprehend that which was 
described as bronchitis, neuralgia, paralysis, or even a twinge 
of rheumatism? A quack may do without knowledge, but 
not a doctor. 

Thus you sec Society is right in calling these the learned 
professions, and giving them rank before the trader. The 
greater stimulus this should be to our young traders. Let 
not the Common School education you have received suffice. 
Let it not satisfy you. 

Let the clergv'man be abler in Greek and Hebrew; let the 
lawyer quote Latin law; let the doctor, if needful, think in 


tlie language of dead men; but when it conies as to who, in 
ilie great gatherings of men, alive with every instinct, is for 
the front; let it not be said that the merchant must fall to the 
rear. And fall to the rear you must unless you train. Train, 
how':' Why, in all that has widened in intellect the classes 
who somewhat in this argument do challenge us. 

Keep up your reading, your Latin and Greek, if you have 
any; think over what you read and hear; thinlv, and having 
thought, train your thoughts into a clear and concise arrange- 
ment, that when expK'ssed, shall convey to others what they 
do to yourself and what you mean they should. 

As to this classical education, carried to that high point 
whicli gives volume and beauty to our language, and which 
secures to us the gems of thought that ancient races have in 
epigram and clear incisive logic handed down to us, we can- 
not all compass or enjoy. 

We cannot all be rich in learning any more than we are 
in land, yet we would not overlook that there is a polish, from 
even a High fSchool insight into the classics, which, like that 
of good society, is indescribable and always to be recognized, 

French and German are more than accomplishments ; they 
are needful, if we would keep apace with merchants of other 
countries. Yet our English is the dominant language of this 
world of trade, and many educated men have been content 
with it. Still I strongly urge our young men to master 
French,, and I say tins, because in our Parliament it is the 
language of so large a section of the people of the Dominion. 

Wliat so gi'aceful a compliment to the French people 
among us, as to show them you have been at the trouble of 
acquiring their langaiage? 

And who is to go to Ottawa — who to Parliament — is to 
be a member of the House of Commons, to be a man by a 
fluke? It is the greatest position a merchajit may reasonably 
aspire to. 

Trust you may be wanted in the service of your country. 
Get yourself ready; men are scarce; all too late, if not pre- 


There is something liigher than gathering dry and pickled 
tish., or in litting out ships, or packing bales of dry goods, or 
dealing in paint and oil, hardware, drugs and medicines. 

Learn to be ready for j)ublic service, as tlie seaman of old 
England Avas ecjually a sailor and a fighting man. So let the 
young merchant remember that his working powers, his truth, 
his faitli in God and man, should be as ready for his country's 
service as for his own. 

Let it be not merely to make money, but mostli/ to serve 
others more than lie would serve himself, and as the legend 
of the old Glovers of Perth runs, let it be, — 

The perfect beauty of a Trade, 

The glory of a Craft, 

Is not in wealth, 

But moral worth, 

^^'hereby virtue gains renown. 

To illustrate what I liave been endeavouring to set forth as 
a Merchant's Needs, and to which you have so kindly listened, 
I vrould like to call your attention to the examples we have in 
the lives of eminent and successful merchants. I might with 
much profit use names whicli are historical, such as the 
Barings, with their great chiefs. Lord Ashburton and ISTorth- 
brook; Stephen Girard of Philadelphia; the Hopes of Ani- 
sU'i'dam; Baxters of Dundee; Stuarts of Derby; Bairds of 
Gartsherne; Titus Salt of Saltaire, and many othei-s; but I 
prefer to keep, if you vnW allow me, to names of those I have 
known, equally rich in my opinion, with brilliant and solid 
example. I shall begin with that of Samuel Cimard. 

Sir Samuel Cunard. 

Beyond all comparison, the name of our merchant that is 
best Icnown outside of Xova Scotia is that of Sir Samuel 

To the younger of us he is personally unknown, and it is 
only our middle-aged and seniors who remember his brisk 


step, his quick and ready iiiovements. All he touched he did 
\vith air of " Push,"' which so highly distinguished him. 

Looking back among the merchants of the past, I consider 
him the ablest man I have known as a merchant of Halifax, 
and shall endeavour to tell what I have seen and heard of 

He was the son of Abraham Cunard, a merchant of the 
olden times, having removed to Halifax from Philadelphia. 

Halifax was a small place in those days. I have no doubt 
the business of Abraham Cunard was in keeping with the 
times. The larger firms in Halifax were branches of Lon- 
don, Liverpool and Glasgow houses. All the importing busi- 
rtss was done by tliese houses. 

Mr. Cunard's father followed a humble calling. His son 
Samuel, the eldest of many able sons, began life as a clerk in 
tiie Engineer Department. This vras in the war time, and led 
young Cunard to be thrown among the officials of the Army 
and Xa^y, 

The first I ever heard of his trading was his purchase of 
a prize vessel, not a large siiip, but a good bargain, which gave 
him a useful sum to begin with. He left the Public SerArice, 
and with his father traded as "Abraham Cunard & Son." His 
brothers were active men, several of them going to sea as 
captains, and prett}- much together they prosecuted tlie West 
India trade. 

When I was a boy, I remember Cunard's wharf being the 
P'"incipal West India goods depot. 

From the first he was the head of the firm. Its dealings 
were very prosperous. A very profitable agency, that of the 
('Id East India Company, which he obtained by a visit to Eng- 
land in early life, was at once the result and the reward of 
his enterprise. Few now rememl:)er, but it was the case that 
this great company had at that time a monopoly of the tea 
trade. All the tea consumed in the Lower Provinces was sold 
by them from Halifax through the agency of the Cimards. 


Tliis led to the building of the stone warehouse at the head 
of Cunard's Wharf. 

TJie trade was direct from China. The yearly arrival 
of the tea ships was quite an event. Sales were made periodi- 
cally^ and bold bu3^ers, knowing th.e stores would not be opened 
for a definite period, often bid in large lots, most advanttige- 
cusly to themselves. One of my first essays at auction was 
the bidding when, but a boy, at a tea sale. Mr. Cunard himself 
acting as auctioneer. My announcing to him my name was 
my first introduction. He took it down with a pleasant 
rfcognition of the name; Ave were always good friends after 
this. I take it his personality to me was only just what it 
WiiS to others. He had the power of impressing himself upon 
tliose he met or was among. 

Mr. Cunard was one of several wlio started the Halifax 
Bank, which for a long time was the only bank in Halifax, 
and had all the banking profits of the day. 

The agency of the General Mining Association gave Mr. 
Cunard's house profitable business. 

About the year 1830. when Mr. Cunard was 40 years of 
age, lie was estimated as lieing worth not less than two hun- 
dred thousand pounds. The firm had forty vessels under 
their control, and tl;e i)urehase of large tracts of land in P. 
E. island, almost townships, showed his discrimination and 
helped to make the estate of his family what it now is — a very 
rich one. 

A very large timber trade was being done from the Mira- 
michi lliver. Tlic Cunards opened a house at Chatham for 
fliis trade; it must have been about the year 1820, and for 
twenty years or more shipped from that river a large pro- 
portion of its exports, — dividing the trade with the great 
house of Gilmore & Kankin. This business resulted in loss 
to the brothers, so that in 1840 it had made large inroads into 
the means of the Halifax house. 

Mr. Cunard, as I have said, had in early life formed an 
intimacy with the officials who presided over the affairs of the 


Army and Navy of this port. You can easily understand how 
li&ef ul an energetic man, with a large personal business around 
him, could be to admirals and generals, who in the sharp 
times of tlie old war had need of prompt help in matters 
Government had not provided for. In such cases, to send for 
Mr. Cunard was at once to overleap a difficulty. If any stores 
were to be provided, he could more promptly than any one 
of his time, meet the want, — and generously he was paid. 

The Packet Service, in a small way, he tendered for, and 
for many years performed between this port and Boston and 
Berinuda. The Cunard line of steamers is but the outgrowth 
from two small schooners, which before the use of steam did 
packet service,— the Lady Ogle to Boston, and the Lady 
Strange to Bermuda. 

It was in the year 1838 that the British Government, fol- 
lowing the march of improvement, resolved to sever the Mail 
Service from the Adiniralty, and transfer it to the Post Office 
13epartment. The old gmn brigs from Falmouth, of bad 
notoriety, were advertised to give place to a line of steamers 
from Liverpool, or rather the Government proposal was 
merely to put steam in the place of sails. They advertised for 
a small class of steam mail boats. Mr. Cunard, who happened 
to be in England in that year, had his attention attracted to 
this advertisement. The small schooners with which for so 
many years he had done contract mail work, led him to the 
conclusion that he could as well tender for steam service, to 
meet the requirements of Government between England and 

His intimacy with the Admirals and high English officials 
who had visited Halifaix, made the approach on his part 
towards the heads of the Admiralty and the Post Office 
Department a very easy matter. He was a skillful 
diplomatist, — I have thought, looking at little Lord Jolm 
liussell, whom he personally resembled (though of a larger 
mould), that he was the airiest man of the two. After many 



interviews with the Postmaster-Greneral, Mr. Cunard, having 
been down among the Scotch steamship biiiklers, convinced the 
Government that it was in the public interest to connect the 
passenger traffic with the mail service. They gave np the idea 
of having the work done bv small-sized steamers for mail 
service alone, and adopted Mr. Cunard's ideas of a larger class 
of vessels to sail from the commercial port of Liverpool, and 
not from the old mail service port of Falmouth. 

Mr. Cunard was indebted to Mr. Xapier, of Glasgow, for 
the larger views which prevailed and made his name famous. 
His practical talent led him into a partnership with some gen- 
tlemen of Glasgow, who had the best axperience in steam- 
ships, and who further than this, had a command of 
capital in that good city. ]\Ir. Cunard's talent as a diplo- 
matist told splendidly for the Compam^s interest in his 

It was only after many years that the Atlantic service was 
opened to the competition of all comers. By this time tlie 
Cunard Line had so far established a great character that 
competitors had a hard road to travel. 

I trust you have followed Mr. Cunard's personal talent 
through this narrative. Again he became a rich man. During 
the Crimean War, Mv. Cunard was able to do signal sernce 
to the British Government. It was thus : You ^nU remem- 
ber that when England went into that war the Government, 
for want of promptness, made some serious mistakes, especi- 
ally in tlie transport of men and stores. The ]\Iinister of 
War was at his wits" end ; he thouglit of the Cunard Line of 
steamers and sent for Mr. Cunard, who then lived in Eng- 
land. Tlie fleet of the ('ompany's steamers was of ample 
dimensions. Mr. Cunard, seeing the Government wanted his 
ships, placed all that could possibly be taken from the mail 
rervice at the Government's disposal, and that promptly — 
no hagide of price, no driving a good bargain for the Company. 
His canny Scotch partners may have thought him over trusts 
hi\ in public generosity. He knew his case. The result was 


the Cunard fleet made good work up tlie Mediterranean, 
landing men and stores more promptly and with better 
delivery than the Government transports had done. This 
brought good pay to the Company. They became richer and 
more powerful, and as a irecognition of Mr. Cunard's work, 
the Government of the day made him Sir Samuel, Baronet, 
a title which is hereditary, and is now in the third possessor, 
his grandson. Sir Bache, 

The Cunard Steamship Company has built and equipped 
no less than 122 steamships since its organization, thirty-five 
years ago. It affords constant emplojTnent, at the present 
time, to 10,000 men, and pays one-thirteenth of the tonnage 
dues at Liverpool. The ships employed in the transatlantic 
service are valued at $20,000,000. The Cunard is one of the 
largest and most successful steamship companies in the world. 

I should have mentioned that Mr. Cunard was a member 
of the Council when it was both Executive and Legislative — 
when worthy gentlemen liked to govern and do good in their 
own way, — when to question was to find fault and be a Kadi- 
cal. Mr. Howe, singularly enough, at these times left Mr. 
Cunard alone. I never heard them speak of each other. On 
opposite sides of politics, each was himself too large to care 
for capital made at the other's expense. 

iSTeed I dwell upon Mr. Cunard's career as an example of 
a worthy merchant? He was a very able man, and I am 
happy to say I believe also a good man. In early life he was 
somewhat imperious. He believed in himself, — he made 
both men and tilings bend to his will ; but in his later years, 
and 1 saw him somewhat intimately, not long before his death 
at about 75 years of age, he was as mellow and as fine an old 
gentleman as I ever wish to meet. 

I have said he was an able man, a skillful diplomatist, and 
yet I do not know that he ever made a public speech,. His 
speech was like xsTelson's, epigrammatic. " To see your duty 
and to do it " Avould have been his word as it was his way. 
Let me commend him to you as one who was an honor to his 
country, and whom you would do well to emulate. 



Of the men I liave loiown as an example to our rising and 
coming merchants, I would like to use something of the story 
of this gentleman. 

He was a Halifax man, although known mostl}- as a Glas- 
gow merchant. As long as I can remember he was the head 
of the house of William Kidston & Sons, who have had so 
general a Kova Scotia business, that I feel warranted in ask- 
ing of you some measure of interest. 

It is now about 92 years (nearly a century ago) since he 
was born on the old corner of George street and Bedford Eow ; 
" the son of William Kidston and Katherine, his wife;' as the 
old papers run. By the same token I see the deed of tliis 
house was made in IT 86 by one of whom you have heard as a 
merchant of the past, — Brook Watson, of London, and Eobert 
Rashleigh his partner, and is witnessed by Jonathan Sterns 
and Simon Bradstreet Robie. 

Another fine old name I see to these deeds, as a witness, 
that of Charles Hill, the most eminent Halifax merchant of 
the early part of this century. Also occur tlie names of J. B. 
i)^vight and John Solomon, Deputy Eegistrar. These names 
will awaken recollections of the olden time. 

I see Mr. Ividston gave Brook Watson £1,000 and paid 
off a local mortgage to John Fillis of £242, making it cost 
£1,242, a good sum of money you would think, for a small 
lot in the oGth year of the settlement of Halifax. 

When ?>lr. Ividston came to Halifajx I do not know, but 
he carried on business in the ilarket Square. His business 
must have grown to some consideraI)le dimensions, because 
we find the better to can-y on the trade from Pictou and the 
Miramichi Eiver (it was the timber trade homeward and the 
export of British goods outward), he removed about the year 
1810 with his sons to Glasgow. There he established the house 
of Wm. Kidston & Sons, leaving his Halifax trade to be con- 
tinued by one of his sons, with two English gentlemen as 
partners, as the firm of Kidston, Dobson & Telford. 


My father, who bad been in the employ of Mr. Kidston 
as a co-clerk witb Ms sons, set up a business for himself, 
receiving his goods from the Glasgow house, which after a 
few years he mostly represented in the Halifax trade. Mr. 
Kiehard was about three years my father's senior; they each 
highly esteemed the other. 

Halifax in those days was somewhat of a Scotch colony. 
The old folks. Mr. Kidston among them, looked well to the 
education of their children. ]\Ir, Kidston, who is the subject 
of our remarks, was a fairly educated man. His letters were 
models of clearness and most precise diction. His kindly 
personal intercourse is well remembered by almost every 
Halifax merchant that ever visited Glasgow for the fifty years 
that preceded his death; and not only business men, but he 
had so kindly a feeling for Xova Scotia that whether in busi- 
ness or not, every Xova Scotian that visited Glasgow was 
welcomed if he called on him. 

The students at Edinburgh from this country, and most 
of our medical men took their degrees at Edinburgh ; all knew 
and valued him. 

From their firm having vessels in the trade almost as 
packets, the Scotch clerg}mien that came to Xova Scotia 
mostly came out under his kind introduction. These men 
are now fast passing awa}', but through Cape Breton and the 
Scotch parts of ISTova Scotia the Old Country clerg5Tnen all 
have a warm heart to ]\Ir. Kidston. 

There is nothing that I know of sailing out from ISTova 
Scotia so old as the line of packets I have mentioned. Tb 
many of you the Clyde Eiver at Glasgow is well known with 
its forests of shipping. Will you believe this is all modern? 
The first sea-going vessel that went up this river to the Bromi- 
law, before this only the resort of herring boats, was a small 
brig built at Maitland for Mr. Kidston: she sailed from the 
Market Wharf, and returned again. Some of you remember 
the later vessels that have filled up the gap between this Mait- 
land brig and the ship Eoseneath, all owned and managed 


for over 60 years by Mr. Kidston's firm. Surely this is a good 
example of steadiness; in all he did he as steadily followed 
the true course of a business life. He was a very true and 
faithful man. It was of him I was thinking when I spoke 
of the virtues of a simple merchant, holding the balances so 
fairly that statesmen might wish for liis good name. 

He was a good counsellor, as is witnessed by the men who 
fiending from Scotland to this new country the ministers of 
their Church, never moved without his advice. He was very 
careful. The theory of the power of small gains and exact 
savings he exemplified most thoroughly. Do not fancy he 
was ever small in his ways. He would turn down the gas 
at his office desk when done with it as carefully as if he was 
a poor man who doubted he might not l)e able to pay the bill, 
and yet his savings were only to gain the power to give. He 
was a good Churclmian, and when the Free Church branched 
oft from the old, it was ]\Ir. Kidston who, vnth his pur,^e. was 
almost the centre of the grand scheme which that Church 
developed in the support of its ministry. Schemes which 
might well be a pattern to others. 

Mr. Kidston ^^'as very fond of Halifax, and as he became 
old it showed itself in his thoughts going back to the scenes 
of his 3'outh. Almost two years before his death, Mrs. Stairs 
and I made a visit to Scotland, and spent some time at his 
house on the shores of the Clyde. He seemed, by our being 
from Halifax, to connect us with, himself, and suggested we 
should come over and live near him. Eeally tempted my 
v/ife with showing off a beautiful house then for sale not far 
from Ills ])lcasant Sea Bank. 

How delighted he was when he found he could realize the 
s])ot where wo lived, by drawing a straight line from Fort 
Massey to the Lumber Yard, places to him so familiar. 

Pardon me for noting these trifles. We have warrant, if 
we could, to strew flowers upon our old men's graves, if it 
were only the dainty wee wild flowers, as the Scotch lassie 
called the gowans at Mr. Kidston's gate. 


I began to write of him for your example. I find how 
much I loved the man; many pleasant days have I spent at 
his home, always welcome and indeed more than welcome, 
part of themselves. On one occasion I arrived at Sea Bank, 
after having been absent from Scotland some two years. The 
family were all from home; the servants, who knew who I 
was, would not allow me to be the stranger. Evening came, 
the household gathered for worship, the Book was placed 
before me, then but a young man, with no alternative but to 
be the chaplain of the night. 

It is worth OUT while to notice the steadiness of these 
British merchants. How few we ever know and see in this 
country who, in the third generation, conduct a business with 
a growing volume of trade. I know many such in England 
and Scotland, 

Mr. Kidston's sons are now so doing. The youngest of 
them contemporary with myself and the eldest, Mr. William, 
an active public man, taking, as in Scotland is done, his 
came from his place known in church and politics as Ferni- 
gair, and " Femigair " is all but a s)'nonym for the thorough 
conservative. When he rises, churchmen and politicians 
know that work is before them. 

Though many have no sympathy with his Church ideas 
or his political views, yet in one line of his public duties all 
go heartily with him. He tolls the curfew bell of the Scottish 
public houses, shortening their hours, and as Justice of the 
Peace, is down upon them for Sunday selling. 

These few short remembrances of Mr. Kidston I close, 
feeling as if I have turned another page of the Book of the 
Fast. It is well to have dwelt a wliile upon this good man's 
life and virtues. Let us cherish as we may the memories of 
those we love. We shall be all forgotten soon enough. 

John Tobin. 

The habits of some men are mechanical ; their lives run in 
grooves. It seems as if in early youth, pondering the maxims 


of Poor Eichard, their virtues had cr3'stallized. Success be- 
comes with tl)em a matter of calcuhition, it can bo worked out 
by the Kule of Three. I woukl not disparage such men. I 
wi<h there were more of them, but they are men of cold 
natures, seldom favourites. 

Such a man was not John Tobin. With the impulses and 
genius of his countrymen, he was a man of many friends, of 
3 fine practical talent, without which he would not have risen 
from the small beginnings of his trade. I suppose I met 
him every day for over tliirty years. He knew the resources 
and trade of Xova Scotia and Newfoundland thoroughly. He 
had a capital judgiuent. His business grew steadily from its 
beginning, it soon overleaped its boundaries. At first mostly 
confined to a trade in boots and shoes from the manufactories 
of Massachusetts, who does not remember the truck loads of 
fishermen's boots, going and coming from his store, a trade 
happily now supplanted by our own factories, by Taylor, 
Yates and others. 

This change, so welcome for pul)lic reasons, lessened not 
the business of Mr. Tobin and his firm. General American 
and -b^uropean trade had taken the place of that which had 
been displaced. 

In politics ho well represented his countrymen. He 
caught the spirit of the times, as a representative man should, 
and if lie dilfered from so many of his friends on the great 
quc^^lion whidh so occupied his thoughts towards the close of 
his life, was it not that by the very nature of the man, he of 
a necessity had to take up with the wide and expansive scheme 
of a great Confederation rather than be content with the pru- 
dent retention of our own old Nova Scotian government and 

Young men, for one of you Avho will come up to the 
standard of John Tobin, there will be many below. 

If time would permit, and you would listen, I should like 
to mention other names known to us all, and discuss their 


characters, their training and education for our example — 
names of our own countrymen. 

Thomas Killam, when he grew to manhood, found Yar- 
mouth the home of a few like himself, — used to the sea,' — sail- 
ing in small vessels to the West Indies and the ports of the 
United States. The shipping of Yarmouth in 1820 was 2,800 
tons : when he died at about 70 vears of ace. it had increased 
to 80.000 tons. How many of their best men have been his 
pupils, and commanded his ships ! 

Who can estimate the worth of the direction of affairs in 
that town, the second in the Province, the first in shipping, 
given by Mr. Killam and by his brotlier, Mr. Samuel Killam? 
for their characters were similar, the elder brother only better 
known as being for so long a representative of his county. 
His name is intimately connected with the political history 
of ISTova Scotia. 

Of George McKenzie of New Glasgow, I would say his 
country owes him a debt of gratitude. With native 
strength and force of character he started as a young man in 
ship building and ship owning. He had of all the men I have 
known, the greatest power of inspiring men with his own 
force. It never trouI)led him to find a man; he made men. 
The st-out young farmers' sons he would seize as relentlassly 
as would a recruiting sergeant, and before he knew where he 
was, he had made him the master of a ship. They were 
known as " the Captain's captains." 

He was a man who believed in men. He trusted them. 
He had great talent for any extra work that was beyond com- 
mon men's apprehension. To have launched the Great East- 
ern would have been to him a delight. I mean the Great 
Eastern in trouble, when she would not move for the engineers 
who had her in hand. 

Ship builders and ship owmers of Pictou should, as they 
do, esteem him as the father of their trade. He worked at 
a time when the facilities for building were very few compared 
to the present. 


He was for some years in our Legislature. Our old friend 
Mr. Howe used to delight in G-eorge McKenzie; he was an 
Admiral in his eyes. May he long be among us with his 
plet;sant, cheery smile, so strong and gentle. 

I would name Enos Collins, a man not understood 5y 
many, but to those who had the key of his character, a very 
able man. 

William Murdoch has left many admirers. He became a 
very rich man, but never lost his sympathy for poor ones. 
What I liked in him was the entire absence of the self- 
importance that wealth often brings with it. 

My friend, John DufEus, came nearer to the finished mer- 
chant than all the others, in having gone through all the 
grades of a merchant's training. 

Firstly the boy from a cultivated home. Secondly the 
young s'liop Iwy, with a thoroughbred old gentleman mer- 
chant, Mr. Bain of respected memory. Then the enterpris- 
ing young merchant away to England to get his goods first 
hand, while others were but in the old track. Soon he became 
the centre of the trade of a large constituency, and for many 
years was what he has been known to us, — a wealthy^ trusted 
man of large heart and active purpose. 

Who has not often borne liis load more cheerfully, and 
felt it lighter for the good word of John Duft'us ? 



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The Morrow Family. 


19 South Street, Halifax, 

November '}10th, 1879. 

I have been intending for some years to put on paper what 
I can remember of my family history. On the 21st of last 
October 1 was 57 years old, and I feel I must not delay this 
undertaking. I will first give the account of my father's 
family, and then if spared to do so, will trace my motlier's 

Isaac Jacks'on, of Alston Moor, was born in 1G99, and 
lived to 1)6 a very old man, dying at the age of 103 yeai*s, at 
High Felling, County Durham, England. I know but very 
little of the position in life of this old man. but believe he 
was a yeoman or small farmer, and have always heard that he 
died in the house in which he was born, and always attended 
the same church. 

Isaac Jackson was Idind for the last twenty years of his 
life, but Jiotwithstanding shaved himself every day. On Sun- 
day, on 1 is way to church he had to cross a bridge made of a 
single plank; this he did unassisted. Strangers coming to 
the village always went to see the aged man, who to the last 
retained tl e singular lu-illiaiicy of complexion so remarkable 
in one of his great age. Isaac Jackson was a man of high 
chai-acter, beloved by all for his great gentleness and kindness 
of lieart. At liis death his funeral was attended by a pro- 
cession three miles long. 

Isaac Jackson's granddaughter, Mary Atkinson, married 
my grandfather, Eobert Morrow. Their eldest son, Isaac 
14 (209) 


Jackson, Avas iiuich beloved by my father. My grandfather 
engaged in >onie business in which lie lost all he possessed. 
After this I think his son Isaac went to London, got employ- 
ment, was very successful, and in a few years was able to pay 
all liis father's debts, which had been the sole object of his 
life. Very .-^oon after he died in London. 

]\Iy grandfather was a miner, or pitman, as were all his 
cousins and brothers. I cannot say how many there were of 
these, but I have heard my father speak of several; some were 
killed in the mines, particularly his Uncle Thomas, who had 
family worship in the evening before going down into the 
mine. Among those thus assembled was my fath;er. then a 
little boy, and he was deeply impressed by the service of that 
niffht. At the conclusion the familv sane; the old hvmn — 

'" Thee we adore, eternal name, 
And Iminbly own to Thee 
How feeble i.s our mortal frame; 
What dying' worms we be." 

That night an explosion took place in the mine, and in 

a few more hours the renuiins of Thomas Morrow were laid 

on his kitchen floor. ]\lore than 200 were killed at this time 

and tlicir funeral was attended by 30,000 men, who on the way 

to the trrave united in sineing the hvmn T have mentioned, 

and as thev passed through the village each house almost gave 

up its dead. 

Some years ago I met the son of Thomas jMorrow and he 
told me that all he knew of father he had learned from my 

The miners cling to tlieir old customs even in a new 
country. My brother Robei't writes thus : 

" This hymn was used at the Albion ]\rines among the 
" Newcastle colliers when T was there. T!ie last time I 
" attended a funeral, tliat of William Lowe, a very old man, 
"all attending Ihe funeral i^ang from the house to the grave." 

My father, John Morrow, was a boy of good abilities, but 
seemed to have been allowed a good deal of liberty, for he 


often described to me his wanderings tlirough tlie counties of 
Durham and York, and was amazed at the great farm kitchens 
he saw in Yorkshire, witli the cakes of barley bread suspended 
from strings fastened to the ceiling and as black as soot from 

age and dust. 

The pitmen had some wrongs they felt ought to be 
redressed, so they assembled in a monster meeting on Alston 
Moor. Lord Brougham, then Mr. Brougham, with some 
friends stood listening to the chief speaker, a pitman, and one 
of the gentlemen said, " That is true eloquence." My father 
said suddenly the very ground seemed to shake beneath them 
and the regiment of Scots Greys, a thousand strong, galloped 
on to the Moor. No harm was done, the pitmen quietly 

After this my father got a place as clerk in the office of 
the Newcastle paper, " Mercury." Some short time after the 
son of the proprietor returned from college and the father 
offered a prize of £100 to the writer of the best poem on a given 
subject, feeling satisfied his son would oFtain it. Unlucldly 
my father won the prize, the judges awarding it to him, and 
a few days after the poor boy was told his services would be 
dispensed with at the end of three months. 

The verses were entitled the " Battle of Salamaned." 
Mitchell sent a copy of the paper to my father for many years 
after. For many years my uncle Robert kept a copy of the 
paper containing the prize poem. 

I will here say I laiow very little of my grandfather and 
grandmother Morrow. My father once said to a friend, Mr. 
Donaldson, that his father did not die, he was translated. 
And in 1864 I met in England a sister of John Robert 
Morrow and daughter of Thomas Morrow, who perished in the 
mine. The old lady was quite overcome while speaking of 
my grandmother, and said " she was a woman with a very fine 

Mr. James Bain was a Halifax merchant, and he directed 
his agent in Liverpool, England, to send him a clerk; my 


father was selected and came to this country when he was about 
18 years of age. His fellow clerk was John Duffus. and 
through him he became acquainted with his mother and family, 
and in 1820 he married my mother, Maryanne Duff us. After 
the marriage my parents lived about two years in Guys- 
borough, then returned to Halifax, and my father entered the 
office of his brother-in-law, Mr. Samuel Cunard. He became 
head clerk with a salary of £800 a year. My father left Mr. 
Cunard's employ about the year 1835 and was appointed 
consul for the United States of America, the first one 
appointed in Halifax. My father retained this office for some 
years, when lie was dismissed because he was an English sub- 
ject, and the office was bestowed on William Livingstone, an 

My father obtained employment in Halifax for some few 
years and then went to England, and entered the office of John 
Stephenson, who was then building railways in England; in 
about one year Mr. Stephenson went to Scotland and with his 
family lived there for several years. My father resided in 
Edinburgh, my brother James joined him and attended the 
high school there and finished his education in it. James 
returned home, and in al)Out a year my father returned to 
Halifax, hiaving spent nearly four years in England and Scot- 
land. He then opened an office as notary public, and got a 
very fair ^hare of business. After some time he was appointed 
secretary to the a'overnuient railway undertaking. His 
experience in the working of English railways well qualified 
him for the position. He was not only sooretary, but pay- 
master and manager of tlie line lo Bedford, and his duties 
were very laborious. I cannot remember how long he remained 
in the emplojmient of the government, but failing health 
obliged him to resign his office. My father lived but a few 
years after this and died after a short illness, on the 21st 
February, 18G2, in the GSth year of his age. 

I must give a brief description of my father for the benefit 
of his grandchildren, many of whom never knew him. He 


was a thorough gentleman, warm-hearted and affectionate, and 
especially beloved by children. As a man of business he had 
a clear head and good judgment, was a most able accountant 
and was considered to be the best bookkeeper in Halifax. I 
have heard him say that he invented logarithms long before 
he ever heard of tliem being used by arithmeticians. He could 
put his ideas on paper with great force and clearness, but was, 
I think, too indolent ever to become an author. He was well 
acquainted with the best English authors and keenly appre- 
ciated their beauties. Any coarseness or vulgarity in writing 
or conversation angered and annoyed him; it was like smoke 
to the eyes, and he would fairly shiver with disgust. 

My father possessed a knowledge of geology and a love for 
shells and corals, of which he had a large collection. His 
tastes were often laughed at, in fact he lived thirty years too 
soon ; at the present day he would be better known and valued. 
Yet possessed of so manj^ fine qualities, for want of a strong 
aim and purpose, his life was a failure. 

These lines vi^ere written by my father on his slate 
when a boy at scliool, aged 16 : 

Nay ! bloody fiend, thy reign of power is o'er, 
Past is thy glory, fallen to rise no more; 
O'erthrown and hnmbled, e\'ery nation's scofT, 
Late thou assailed our ears ^vith threats and boasts 
Engendering war, breathing revenge and death ! 
Oppression, Tyranny, and all their hosts, 
Numerous a.s Snowflakes blowTi l)y Boreas' breath; 
By thee led on the embattled host appears, 
Unnumbered as thie sands on ocean shore, 
Opposed to Russia, who thy power nor fear 
Nor scorns, but hopes it soon will be no more. 
And now the winter comes which mocks thy force, 
Palsies thy soldiers, all thy horses kills. 
And Russian troops inured to winter's course, 
Ruthless and wild, of vengeance take their fill; 
The powers of Europe rise and shake thy throne, 
Each cry for libeity, and may their will be done! 

John Morrow. 


My mother died wLen 1 was about 13 years of age, and 
consequently my recollections of her are very imperfect. She 
was a woman of middle size, good looking and ladylike, and 
I well remember her beautiful hands and feet. She was 
singularly truthful, a warm friend, and though all her life in 
delicate licalth, was full of energy and spirit. She had a 
good knowledge of music, French, painting and drawing. 
When almost a girl, her father lost his property and she earned 
£120 a year by assisting her aunt in the management of her 
school ; of this sum she retained only a small portion, giving 
the rest to her mother. 

My mother was passionately devoted to her children, very 
seldom leaving them to enter into society. She died after a 
few weeks' illness on the 9th of January, 1836, having just 
passed the age of 40 years, and leaving a family of nine child- 
ren, the youngest only an infant. The care of the family now 
devolved upon me. When m}^ father lost liis office as consul, 
our friends thought it best for us all to give up our house, and 
we all went to live with my dear grandmother Duff us. IMy 
father left us for England ; James followed him. ^Mary was 
adopted by my dear uncle, .Tohn Duffus. Isaac had been for 
some time in his emplo^Tnent and was treated as a son. 
William had been in the office of S. IST. Binney for some few 
years, but he was led away into temptation and obliged to quit 
Halifax. Found his way to England and there entered the 
service of the East India Company. This was I think in the 
year 1845. He died in India in 1857. William was deserv- 
ing of pity as well as blame, inasmuch as he never knew a 
mother's love or watchful care. I should have said that Bessie 
was named after iny aunt, Mrs. Henry Cunard. who had an 
only child also named Elizabeth. She urged my father to 
give her our Bessie to bring up as her own child. It was a 
great trial to part with her. and we did it very unwillingly. 
Bessie died in rhatham when only two years old; she was a 
singularly beautiful child. 


In another year little Sarah died, a very sweet, fair, blue- 
eyed little girl, loving and gentle. Just before she was taken 
ill she was spending the day with her aunt, Mrs. John Duffus. 
Sitting beside her on a footstool, she suddenly lifted her aunt's 
foot to her lips and kissed it. Her aunt took her up in her 
arms and embraced her warmly, and never spoke of Sarah for 
many years following without gi'eat emotion. 

Isaac left Halifax about 18. , for Australia, remained 
there nearly 20 years, returned home for a short time and then 
went to Buenos Ayres. He is now living in Zapeola, in good 
health, seemingly happy and contented. 

More than nine years had now elapsed since the death of 
my mother, and during this time I had known little else than 
trouble and sorrow. My greatest comfort was the love and 
obedience shown me by my young brothers and sisters, and the 
companionship of my dear grandmother Duff us. 

In June, 1845, I was married, and since that time blessed 
with a dear, good husband, I have enjoyed every happiness 
possible in this life. Some of the sorrows common to man 
have fallen to our lot, God in His wisdom having taken to 
Himself four of our children, Ethel, a year old, died first; 
then our first-born, Willie, fourteen years of age ; Joanna, and 
Richard Kidston, each at the age of five months. 

Isaac Jackson, of Alston Moor. BoT-n in or about the year 
1689, died at High Felling, County Durham. England, 
in the year 1812. 

Robert ]\rorrow, son of Thomas and Sarah ]\Iorrow, born 
February 9th, 1772, died at Felling, County Durham, 
February 14th, 1833. His wife, Mary, was daughter of 
John and IMary Atkinson, and granddaughter of Isaac 
Jackson, of High Felling, County Durham. She was 
born January 2nd, 1774. 



Isaac Jaclcson, son of Kobert and ^lary Morrow, born Decem- 
ber 29th, 1793, at Windy Nook, County Durham, died in 
London; no date. 

John, son of Eobert and Mary Morrow, born July 5th, 1795, 
died at Halifax, Nova Scotia, February 31st, 1803, at 3 
p. m., and was buried in Camp Hill Cemetery. 

Sarah, daughter of Eobert and ]\Iary Morrow, born March 
28th. 1798, died May 28th, 1800. 

Eobert, son of Eobert and ilary ]\Iorrow, born January 15th, 
1800, died in Liverpool. England. 

Mary, daughter of Robert and Mary Morrow, born February 
7th, 1803, married William Law. 

Ann, daughter of Eobert and ]\Iary Morrow, born November 
50th, 1803, married Joseph Gray, 

John Morrow, son of Eobert and ]\[ary Morrow, married Mary 
Anne, second daughter of William Duffus and Susannah, 
his wife, on the 3nd of January, 1830. She was born on 
November 10th, 1796, in Halifax. N. S., died January 
9th, 1836, was buried in St. Eaul's Churchyard on the 
13tli day of the same month. 


Susan, (laughter of John and Mary Anne Morrow, born 

October 21st, 1822, marri(^d William James Stairs June 

16th, 1845, 
Isaac Jackson, son of John and ^fary Anne ^lorrow. born 

April 8th, 1824, died June ISth, 188G, at Zapiola, Buenos 

William Duffus, son of John and Mary Anne Morrow, born 

January 24th, 1826, died in Eurrachee, Scinde, East 

Indies, July 6th, 1857. 


Eobert, son of John and Mary Anne ]\Iorrow, born July 26th, 
1827, married Helen, daughter of William and Margaret 
Stairs, died August 5th, 1885. 

Mary, daughter of John and ]\Iary Anne ]\Iorrow, born, Feb- 
ruary 12th, 1829; married John, son of William and 
Margaret Stairs; died 29th April, 1871. 

James Bain, son of John and IMary Anne Morrow, born 
November 8th, 1831 ; married Matilda, daughter of the 
Eeverend Matthew Eichey; died 10th September, 1880. 

Sarah, daugliter of John and Mary Anne Morrow, born 
December 12th, 1832; died March 9th. 1839. 

Margaret Elizabeth, daughter of John and Mary Anne Mor- 
row, born March 2nd, 1834; married George J. Troop 
July 10th, 1855. 

Elizabeth Duffus, daughter of John and Mary Anne Morrow, 
born December 7th, 1835; died at Chatham, 'N. B., 
January 13th, 1838. 

Eobert, son of Eobert and Mary Morrow, born at Low Felling, 
January 15th, 1800; married Eliza, daughter of William 
and Elizabeth Fallen, born at London, England, October 
13th, 1807; married at Miramichi, N. B., August 18th, 
1826; died in Liverpool, England. 

John, son of Eobert and Eliza jMorrow, born June 20th, 1827. 

Elizabeth Catherine, daughter of Eobert and Eliza Morrow, 
born November 20th, 1829; died in Chatham, N. B. 

Mary Anne, daughter of Eobert and Eliza Morrow, born 
December 3rd, 1831. 

Eobert, son of Eobert and Eliza Morrow, born January 19tli, 
1833; died, October 19th, 1833. 

Joseph Cunard, son of Eobert and Eliza Morrow, born 
November 29th, 1834. 


Eobert Thomas, son of Kobert and Eliza ]\rorrow, born Octo- 
ber 2nd, 1S3G. 
Henry Cnnard, son of Eobert and Eliza Morrow. 
Isaac Jackson, son of Eoliert and Eliza ]\lorrow. 
Eliza, daughter of Eobert and Eliza Morrow. 

William Jaiuas Stairs, third child and eldest son of William 
Stairs, and Margaret Wiseman, born 34th September, 
1819; married on the lOth Jime, 1845, to 

Susanna Dufl'us Morrow, eldest eluld of John ]\[orrow and 
Mary Anne Duffus, born October 21st, 1822. 


William, their son, born 24t]i February, 184G ; died April 12th, 

John Fitzwilliam, born 19th January, 1848; married Char- 
lotte Fogo, only child of James Togo, of Pictou. on the 
27th April, 1870; married Nellie Gaherty, August 14th, 
1S95; John died September 26tli, 1904, at Toronto. 

Maryanne, born 30th September, 18-49, married Charles Mac- 
donald 18th May, 1882; died 24th July, 1883. 

James Wiseman, born loth May, 1851; married Jane, eldest 

daughter of Edward Macdonald. 
Margaret Wiseman, born 26th IMarch, 1853; married the 

Eeverend A. J. Townend, 16th June, 1880. 
Edward, born 10th July, 1854; married Isabella, second 

daughter of James Scott. 
George, born 29th February, 1856, luarried Helen Mackenzie, 

daughter of Captain Mackenzie, October 1st, 1884. 

Helen died April 13th, 1894. 

Ethel, born 26th March, 1857; died 33rd March, 1858. 

Herbert, born 21st IMarch, 1859; married Bessie, fourth 
daughter of Leander Eaton, of Cornwallis, on the 21st 
September, 1881. 


Catherine, born 31st Angnst, 1860; died October 23rd. 1888. 
Gavin Lang, born 21st September. 1861; married EUie, 

daugiiter of Captain Charles Cox, December, 1885. 
Joanna, born 30th December, 1862; died 31st May, 1863. 
Richard Kidston, born 20th March, 1865; died An.giist 11th, 



I will now try and give an acconnt of Willie. His birth 
was premature, and he was a slight, delicate child, requiring 
incessant care. In the winter of 1859 and 1860 he had 
measles ; immediately after he was taken ill with diphtheria. 
The attack was not very severe, but his strength failed com- 
pletely; he was restless and nervous, but the doctor could not 
understand his s^onptoms. At length a consultation was held 
and it was thought that there was some deraneempnt of the 
spine, but where could not be ascertained. Willie had no 
pain, but could neither sleep nor rest day or night. His 
patience was remarkahle, but he said he was " so tired," and 
no remedy could be found to induce sleep. The sound of my 
voice in nursery hymns soothed him, and when I ceasecl. as I 
often did with a heart too full to sing, he would say, " go on 
mother," and never tired. 

On the morning of his death his father knelt beside his 
bed ; we both saw the end was near at hand. When the prayer 
was done, (and his mind was so clear he understood it all), he 
said, " Mother, does father think T am dying? " T could only 
say, " Yes, Willie." He replied. " Mr. McGregor, send," and 
did not seem surprised by my answer. The faithful friend 
and minister soon came, and the boy listened eagerly as Mr. 
McGregor repeated passages from Scripture to him. 

About 5 o'clock in the afternoon he quietlv breathed his 
last, surrounded by many dear friends who knew and loved 

Just before Willie died a little bird rested on the window 
of his room. On the morning after his death his father and 

2 '20 

I av/oke early sorrowing for our child. One of my little boys 
slept in the room near me. He suddenly sat up in his crib, 
saying, "Who went out nf tlie room?" The door was shut, 
and I replied, " Xo one " ; but he said, " I saw some one go out 
at the door." If Vv'ilUe had been with us he only heard us 
say how we loved him. 

A large number of boys followed him to his grave, and 
Mr. McGregor addressed them and begged them to imitate 
his example, " He was so manly and so truthful." 

As a child he was (juick to comprehend. When only 17 
months old his young aunts taught him several letters of the 
alphabet on the signs over shops in town. When his father 
heard of his beginning his studies so early he was exceedingly 
angry, and told the astonished aunts they would make the 
child an idiot, and AVillie never learned his letters until he 
was nearly five years old. 

Willie early learned to love the Bible. He said one day, 
" Mother, you often say I will have to learn the multiplication 
table, ilary has no l-ible; if I Icirn the table will you give 
me money enough to buy her one ? xVunt Anna says you can 
buy a Bible at the Depository for two shillings and sixpence." 
]\Iary was a nursemaid and a faithful servant. 

I replied I would do so. Imt never thought it was possible 
for so young a child to overcome the difficulties of the multi- 
plication table. 

On the afternoon of the third day, Willie came to me 
ar.d said he knew it. His fatlier had just come home to dinner 
and I told the child to run to him and repeat it. Willie only 
hesitated at 7 times S, and his father and he said r^G together. 

The next morning we went to town and bought the Bible. 
Willie chose one with a red cover, because it was the prettiest. 
In the Bible his father wrote Marv's name and how Willie had 
got the money to pay for it. After Willie's death IMary gave 
me the date, which was January 28th. 1851. Willie was five 
years old on the folloAvinsr 24th February. 


After Willie was taught the alphabet, I had no f urtner 
trouble. He mastered his lessons with the greatest ease, and 
delighted in tlie conjugations of the Latin verbs, knowing 
them all by heart. His father thought Latin and French 
were as much as he could attend to, but the boy was so 
anxious to study Greek that his father yielded to him. He 
bought a grammar, and having already learned the alphabet, 
sat down to study his first lesson with the greatest delight. 

I think it was in the Christmas holidays of 1857 that some 
articles appeared in the Recorder newspaper against the use 
of the Bible in schools. Willie read one on Saturday evening, 
and after breakfast on Monday morning sat down and in a few 
minutes wrote the following letter. I was often sorry it was 
not published, but his father for several reasons strongly 
objected to it. 

" Mr. Editor, — I find on looking over late copies of the 
" Eecorder that they mention boys having the Bible drubbed 
" into their ears, and blubbering through portions of the Lloly 
" Scriptures. Now let me tell tlie editor of the Eecorcler, 
"that t' ere is no blubbering about it, and besides the Bible 
" is not used to teach boys to read, but only to give them a 
" better knowledge of the Scriptures. 

"Yours, etc., A Boy of the Halifax Grammar School." 

Willie was very fond of his Aunt Maggie Troop; she was 

to him like an elder sister, and just before he was taken ill, 

he proposed we should have a party at Fernwood to celebrate 

the anniversary of her wedding day, the 10th July. 

Fernwood was a small property in Dartmouth, next to 
Woodside. Mr. John Fairbanks' place on the Cow Bay Road. 
We bought the place in 1854 and spent many happy summers 
there while onr children were young, and tlie remembrance 
of it is still fresh in our minds. Willie went liimself and 
invited the guests ahout Christmas time, and groat amusement 
was created by the long invitation; but everyone accepted 


In due time tlie day came round. The aunts and cousins 
assembled at Fernwood — all except the boy who had invited 
them. He had l)een called by his Heavenly Father to his 
eternal home. But all the memories connected with Willie 
were so pleasant, every one present so loved him, that it was 
not a gloomy party; we all felt as though he was with ns. 

As a child Willie was very fair, with bright blue eyes and 
long curls of yellow hair falling on his shoulders. As he grew 
older he kept his good looks, had a good head and was so 
intelligent, frank and cheerful everyone admired him. His 
manners were easy and winning, and he was often called " the 
little gentleman." He was the eldest grandchild in the 
family, and so loved and welcomed I often wondered he was 
not spoiled. 

* * * * * 

I now proceed to give an account of my mothers family. 
Of her father, William Duifus, I know but little; he was a 
man of few words and seldom spoke of himself. 

My grandfather was born in Banff. Scotland, August 12th, 
1762, on the same day as G-eorge the Fourth. 

His father died early, leaving his wife very poor and with 
two children to bring up, a son and daughter. ]\Ty grand- 
father, after he had learned something about business, went 
to London, where he remained a few years 

Tic witnessed the Lord George Gordon riots, and when 
Earnaby Budge was published, he told me be was standing in 
the square when the mob destroyed Lord Mansfield's house, 
and he saw them throw liis books out of tb.e windows and 
burn thorn in the square.* Afterwards he saw several men 
hanging in chains who had been executed for their share in the 
riots. There is a tradition in the family that my grandfather 
received the freedom of the city of London for some ser\'ice 
performed at this time. I do not quite believe this story, but 
it may be true. 

* See •' Bai-naby Rudge," chap. Ixvi. 


I should have said that I was present one day when my 
grandmother was reading the new book, Barnaby Eudge, and 
she said to my grandfather, " Tell the child what you remem- 
ber about the riots I am reading of." And I have briefly set 
it down above. 

In London my grandfather became acquainted with 
Admiral Sir Charles Douglass, and notwith'standing the dis- 
parity in rank and years, a friendly feeling arose between the 
admiral and his young countryman; so when Sir Charles was 
appointed to the jSJorth American Station, he ottered my 
grandfather a passage to Halifax in his ship, which first sailed 
to the West Indies. They visited many of the islands. One 
small one inhabited by quite a number of people, was perfectly 
destitute of water, and all they used was brought from a neigh- 
boring island. My grandfather was much interested in this 
fact, and often told me many tilings I have now forgotten. 

Several months were spent among the islands, and several 
deaths occurred on board the ship, and as is usual in these 
cases, the property of the deceased was sold immediately. My 
grandfather bought most of the linen sold, and when he 
finished his voyage, he had dozens and dozens of white linen 
shirts which lasted for years. 

On Saturday, 29th ^laj, 1784, Sir Charles Douglass, in 
H. M. 3. Assistance, arrived in the harbor of Halifax, and my 
grandfather began his life in the new world. 

My grandfather must soon have established himself in 
business, and as Halifax was then a great naval and military 
station, he prospered exceedingly, and while a young man had 
made upwards of £30,000 sterling. He did not devote his 
thoughts solely to his trade, but bought a tract of land north- 
west of the common, and cultivated it for years ; it was a cold, 
wet soil and returned but little for the outlay; my grand- 
mother often said it was paved with dollars. In the works 
of the celebrated Sir John Sinclair, my grandfather met with 
something that turned his attention to the value of marsh 


mud, and lie advised liis brother-in-law, ilr. Sangster, of 
Windsor, to try it on his farm, which he did, and it is now 
used as a manure wherever it can be obtained in the province. 

My grandfather married early. I do not remember the 
name of his first wife, but lier tombstone and those of her 
four voung children are still to be seen in old St. Paul's 
burying-ground, and her eldest son James, who survived her 
many years, is also buried there. 

When my grandfatlier and grandmother were married they 
were considered tlie handsomest couple in town. Every day 
iney either drove out in a gig, or rode on horseback, and my 
husband's mother told me wlien a cliild she has often been 
called to the window to see Mr. and Mrs. Duffus ride by; my 
grandmother dressed in a habit of scarlet cloth and a white 
beaver hat and feather. Even as old people, the husband 80 
and the wife 70 years of age, they were exceedingly handsome. 

After some years my grandfather's agent in London 
absconded and he lost everything. He must have got some 
business again together, for some years after this he went 
security for a friend to the OA-fent of £2,000. The friend's 
house on the property No. 1 Granville Street, now owned by 
Duffus ti Co., was burned down and again my grandfather 
was a poor nuin. It must luave been at this time that my 
grandmother was obliged to help maintain her family by tak- 
ing some boarders, but they never by any chance ever saw her 
daughters, and the gentlemen were years in the house before 
they knew she had a family. The house had two doors, and 
the daughters never met the boarders. 

My grandfather's eldest son, James, entered the navy and 
was a lieutenant and present at the battle of Copenhagen- 
He retired on half pay and died in Halifax. 

In his person my grandfather was tall and stately, his 
features very good, a nose somewhat Eoman in shape, and the 
most beautiful small hands and feet I ever saw on a man. He 
was one of Nature's gentlemen, and none of his descendants 


equal him in personal appearance. He was singularly gentle 
and refined in mind and manners, large-hearted and generous. 

He educated his wife's brother, William Murdoch, for the 
navy, and treated him like a son in every respect. The young 
man did him great credit and was greatly beloved by all who 
knew him. Unfortujiately he died soon after he became a 
lieutenant, in Hasler Hospital. 

My grandfather was a very silent man, and never in my 
remembrance spoke a word if a motion would suffice. His 
mothei'^s name was Cruden, and was a niece, I believe, of 
Cruden the celebrated author of the Concordance. Some 
years ago a gentleman of this name was I think an officer in 
the custom house in Miramichi, X. B. He had a miniature 
of eitiier the author or of his father, and it was a most 
excellent likeness of my grandfather. 

General Ogilvie, who gave his name to the fort near Hali- 
fax, was a cousin of my grandfather's, so my grandmother 
told me. The general may have risen from the ranks, 
or my grandfather's family may have been reduced to poverty 
by the death of his father. 

My grandfather died at Halifax in ]\lay, 1845. 

My grandmother, Susannah Murdoch, was born in Horton, 
Xova Scotia, on May 30th, 1773, and was the eldest child of 
the Eev. James Murdoch and Abigail Salter, his wife. 

My grandmother came to Halifax when about 16 years of 
age to take charge of her grandmotlier Salter, then very sick 
and infirm, and a widow, whose children were all either mar- 
ried or scattered abroad. The two had rooms in a quiet 
family and were very happy together. Most young girls would 
have found the position of nurse to an almost helpless invalid 
very trying, but my grandmother became very fond of her 
grandiiiother, who was a most delightful companion and a 
most tender mother to the young girl, whose work was a 
perfect labor of love to her; and when in her turn she became 



an ao-ed woman, she often spoke to me of her grandmother 
with all the warmth of early love. I think the two friends 
resembled each other in character and ability. 

My grandmother possessed a wonderfully strong mind and 
clear intellect, a good memory and a warm heart. She was 
singularly generous and just, too. This justice made most 
people a little afraid of her, but I never felt it, and when my 
cousins wanted any little favor from her, I was always sent 
to ask it when a little child. I tliink in middle age she 
probably was colder and sterner than when I remember her as 
my grandmother; 1 am certain with increasing years she 
became more loving and kindly in her judgments and made 
larger allowances' for the v/eakness of human nature. 

After my mother's death, her mother in great measure 
filled her place to me, and we became loving friends, and she 
told me many old stories as warnings and encouragements. 

Soon after she came to town she became acquainted with 
a young gentleman, a doctor in the army. He asked her to 
marr\- him as soon as he could provide for lier. She told me 
he was a noble character and very handsome, and tliat she 
loved him dearly. The regiment was ordered to Martinique. 
On the day the transport was to sail, my grandmother walked 
to see some friends living on tlie road near Point Pleasant; 
tbe house long years ago was pulled down, but the enclosure 
roimd the garden still remains. Coming back she saw the 
ship sailing down the harbor, bearing aAvay the one she loved 
best in the world. She seated herself on the beach, and 
watched the ship until she dipped below the horizon, in a per- 
fect agony of grief. She felt she would never see her friend 
again, and that all happiness for her Avas gone forever. The 
bitterness of death came over her then, and when in three 
months' time she heard that her friend had died of yellow 
fever soon after his arrival at Martinique, she hardly felt the 


When my grandfather sought out my grandmother, Mrs. 
Salter encouraged him, knowing he would be a good husband 
to one whose father could not give her a comfortable home. 
My grandmother told me she had no love to give a husband, 
and had no energy to oppose her grandmother; so v.^hen the 
affair was settled, the hospitable old lady determined to give 
Mr. Duii'us a dinner. 

The two friends had, I believe, only one large bedroom, the 
bed being in a corner. As they had no servant the cooking 
of the dinner devolved on the young lady; she was not at all 
willing to do it, but remonstrated in vain. I forget now of 
what the dinner consisted, but after it was cooked, the young 
lady hastily dressed, put it on the table and sat down hot, red 
in the face and too much disturbed to enjoy either the dinner 
or the conversation. How my dear grandmother laughed 
when she told me the story, and wondered what my grand- 
father thought of the looks of his future wife. 

After Susan married Mr. Samuel Cunard, he and my 
uncle, John Duffus, urged my grandmother to give up her 
boarders, and offered to settle upon her for life the sum of 
£300 a year. She accepted the offer, and for many years her 
house was the place above all others which her grandchildren 
loved to visit. 

!|C SJC ^ "l^ •!» •T* V 

William Duffus, born 12th August, 17G2, died at Halifax, 

May 3rd, 1845. 
Susan Duffus, born 30th May, 1772, died at Halifax, 7th 

January, 1858. 

Susan, born 25th May, 1795 ; married Samuel Cunard ; died, 

Mary Anne, born 10th November, 1796; married John 
Morrow, 2nd January, 1820; died, 1836. 

William, bom ITtli January, 1799; married Catherine 

McDougall; died 1830. 

John, born 25th September, 1801; married Janet Grinton; 

died 1867. 
Alexander, born 14th August, 1804; died in infancy. 

Margaret, born 3rd June, 1808; married William Sutherland; 
died 1873. 

Elizabeth, born 1st February, 1810; married Henry Cunard; 
died 10th January, 1885. 

Mrs. Ann Murdoch, grandmother of tlie Eeverened James 
Murdoch, died in Horton, Nova Scotia, about the year 



James Murdoch^ married to Abigail Salter, July 24, 1771. 

Susannah, born May 30th, 1772. 
Margaret, born November 1st, 1773. 
Ann or Nancy, born September, 1775; departed tliis life 

September 8th, 1776. 
Andrew, born July 8th, 1777. 
William Salter, born October 5th, 1780. 
Sarah, born December 5th, 1782. 
Anne or Nancy, born October 4th, 1786. 
Joseph, born April 5th, 1789. 
James, bom May 22nd, 1791. 
Abigail, May 3rd, 1793. 
Benjamin, born June 11th, 1796. 
Margaret Murdoch departed this life December 3rd, 1790, 

Horton. John, my father, 18th 1790, one hour 

after sunset, both aged 72. 
The Eeverend James Murdoch departed this life 21st Novem- 
ber, 1799, aged 54. 
John (1st) Murdoch, murdered at Newtown, Limisbaddy, 

Ireland, about date of the siege of Londonderry. 

James, his onl)^ child, married Ann , and died early. 

John, their only son, married Margaret Dryden. Their 

children : 
Elizabeth, born in Ireland; married Matthew Frame; had five 

sons and two daughters, 
James, married Abigail Salter. 

The Murdochs trace their Scottish ancestors far beyond 
the revolution. In 1688 the family had been in Ireland more 
than a century. Wlien Londonderry was besieged, 1689, in 
common with the other Protestant neighbors, they assisted to 
supply the troops of Schomberg with provisions. 


Mr. Jolm Murdoch was murdered, in his bed by the Hap- 
pajees, a lawless Jacobin gang or society; his only child, 
James, then a lad, escaped. 

Mr. John l\Iurdoch resided at Gillie Gordon, Donegal, 
Ireland ; was a farmer and flaxgrower, and employed a number 
of people at flax dressing and spinning linen yarn, which he 
sold in Belfast. Besides the yarn thus disposed of, he made 
linen and had a bTeachery. When the daisies showed their 
golden spots beneath the web the cloth was fit for use or sale. 
Some of his steel hatchels, long unused, remain to the present 
day, and are in excellent preservation. Also a hone fashioned 
out of wood (a curiosity in its way), attests the petrif} 
qualities of an Irish Lough. 

Mr. Murdoch was a well-informed man, fond of books. 
A few out of the large library which he brought to ISTova 
Scotia are still in existence. His son James was born at 
Gillie Gordon in 1745; he studied the languages at home, and 
at an early age was sent to the ITnivcrsity of Edinburgh, 
studied theology, and before he had attained his majority he 
had become a diligent student, passed his examinations and 
had turned his attention to a missionary life among the 
Indians in North America. 

The Xorth American Colonies were exciting interest at 
home. Halifax had been founded, emigration had become a 
reality, ior numbers liad gone from the north of Ireland to 
Nova Scotia. Londonderry had been named after that dear 
old city Avhich Presbyterian valor had so nobly defended. A 
cry for help had crossed tlio Atlantic. This was from some 
Apostolic men in Xcw England for help to preach the Gospel 
to the rapidly perishing Eed ]\Ien. 

James IVIurdoch returned from Edinburgh firmly resolved 
to go to America a missionary to the Indians. 

A call from T^isburne awaited the young man; this and 
other ofTers at home were declined ; all opposition fell before 
his indomitable will. 


There was in the possession of his granddaughter, the late 
Mrs. James Donaldson, Pleasant Street, Halifax, the original 
minute of the Synod of Ulster to the Presbytery of iSTewton 
Limabaddy, urging tliem to give Mr. James Murdoch trials 
for license. These trials passed on the 2n-d September, at 
Aghadowire. A pro re nata meeting was held at Eye, Eev. 
Eobert Eeed, moderator, where he was ordained for the 
Province of ISTova Scotia, or any other part of the American 
continent where God in His providence, might see fit to call 

Mr. Murdoch's father supplied him with a good library 
besides a liberal outfit and a goodly sum in money. He sailed 
immediately and landed in Halifax about the close of 1766. 
Here he found that the Indians of Kova Scotia were all under 
the influence of the Eoman Catholic church and no opening 
for a Protestant mission among them. 

He supplied the Mather's Church in Halifax for some 
time, besides preaching to the Presbyterians in the western 
part of the country. He got a lot of land in the newly laid 
out township of Horton, and 40 acres of marsh on the Grand 
Pre. Here we will leave him and return to his father in 
Ireland, who by this time had disposed of his property at Gillie 
Gordon and packed up his valuables, farming utensils, wheels, 
flax seed, etc., with everything he considered would be need- 
ful in a new country, and sailed for Nova Scotia in company 
with many emigrants from the north of Ireland. 

When the other ship was in sight of land, she met a gale 
near Halifax and for tliree weeks tossed off and in the harbour. 
The innocents on board imputed these storms to witchcraft, 
and actually took a poor old woman out of the steerage and 
would have ducked her in the sea but for the intervention of 
Mr. Murdoch. "My mother," said he, "is older than Mrs. 
Eafter, why not blame her ? " " She is no witch," replied the 
excited people, but the woman was not harmed. 

Mr. Murdoch and family, which consisted of his mother, 
wife and daughter, and a young man Matthew Frame, his 


intended son-in-law, went at once to Horton, bought half of 
his son's grant of land, rented the other half and built a two 
story liouse for him upon it. He fitted up an old French house 
for himself and Mr. Frame, who used to relate th,at the first 
work they did in Xova Scotia was to repair the old French 
dykes on the Grand Pre. 

When tliej' arrived they met the settlers, mostly ISTew Eng- 
land men, going to repair the dyke, as the tides were rising, 
and they joined them in the work. 

Mr. Frame told that some ten or fifteen years after this a 
cry arose that the dyke was breaking or broken. The people 
ran with shovels and every one was ready to do, 1jut how ? jNIr. 
Murdoch mounted upon a cart, his long wliite hair streaming 
in the wind, and raising his staff gave orders in a clear, calm 
voice, and soon willing hands stopped the tide. Mr. ]\Iur(loch 
raised flax on his new farm, while Mr. Frame could shoe tlie 
farm horses, try his hand at house building, and besides chop- 
ping and ploughing, he could grind a grist, and keenly liked 
tlie sport of moose hunting; a good fat liuck was always a 
welcome addition to the family larder. 

The Reverend James IMurdoch married x^-bigail, daughter 
of Malachy Salter, Esq., M. P. P., and took her up to his new 
house in Horton. Here this young lady was often left for 
weeks alone with a servant man and woman, whilst her hus- 
band went on his long missionary journeys to visit a people 
scattered along the various small settlements in the present 
counties of Kings, Hants and Cumberland. Mr. and JMrs. 
Salter rode up from Halifax on horseback to see their first 

Mrs. Murdoch went by the snme mode of conveyance seated 
on a pillion behind Mr. Frame, he carrying the baby in his 
arms, to spend some weeks at home in Halifax. Here her 
husband met her and she returned to Horton with him. he 
bearing the baby, and she meunted on another horse, each 
carrying well stuffed saddle bags. 


Mr. Murdoch read a very scholarly paper, (given in Appen- 
dix) before the governor. Lord William Campbell, many 
members of council, and a large gathering of all denomina- 
tions, at the first ordination in the province, that of Mr. 
Comingo, of Lunenburg, on 3rd of July, 1770. Eev. Mr. 
Lyon, of Onslow, Presbyterian ; Eev. Mr. Secombe, of Chester, 
and Eev. Mr. Phelps, of Cornwallis, both Congregationalists, 
taking part in it. 

Mr. Murdoch had preached for a time to the Dissenters 
in Halifax, but after some years he ministered almost exclu- 
sively among the Presbyterians of Scotch and Irish descent, 
who had settled on the rivers and Bay of Fundy. Of salary 
he received but little ; the people helped him on his journeys 
by boat, etc., and as for roads, they were almost unlmown. 

In 1791 the Eev. Andrew Brown, from Scotland, who had 
supplied St. Matthew's in Halifax for a time, wished to 
visit Cumberland, and the following is the way marked out 
for him : 

" Crossing the Bay from Horton, after leaving Partridge 
Island, seventeen miles, you mount a narrow strip of land 
seven miles in length, a natural road or ridge between two 
swamps, and extending within a short distance of the head 
waters of Eiver Hebert. Eight miles further on is one 
solitary house of entertainment, and ten miles further is 
another; a few miles further you cross the river in a log canoe 
and enter the township of Amherst, then some miles further 
the road is better to St. Lawrence, and three miles further on 
is Fort Cu7nberland." 

This weary way Mr. Murdoch had travelled for upwards 
of twenty years to preach the Gospel to his countrymen. His 
papers were nearly all lost by fire. This is much to be 
regretted, as his diary was very full, judging by the fragments 
which remain. In those trouhled political times Mr. Mur- 
doch was a staunch friend to the government, coming from a 
country where the House of Hanover and Protestantism were 


synonymous. Rebels and rebellion were fearful to contem- 
plate. He did all in his power to prevent his people from 
taking sides with the Presbyterians of Colchester, who had 
imbibed republican opinions. 

In a list of his books dated May 15th. 1787, he laments 
many valuable ones Icjit to people who were " so ungrnteful 
as not to return them." This list was made preparatory to 
his leaving his beautiful home in Horton. 

So far as the writer could learn from the statements of 
Mr. Matthew Frame, his brother-in-law and her grandfather, 
who likewise lost his labor of some twenty years biit who never 
threw the least shadow of blame on Mr. Murdoch, the cause 
was as follows : — 

l\Ir. John ]\Iurdoch bought and paid his son in money for 
half of the fann. viz., twenty acres marsh, acres ploughed 
upland left by the French, and half of two wood lots on the 
mountain. On the lot was built a two-story house, occupied 
at present by Mr. Bowser, 1S83. 

Mr. Frame worked the minister's half and the proceeds 
for a time were enough to support his family, but J\lr. Salter 
always sent bis daughter presents from his store. After her 
family increased these presents came to be counted as a regular 
supply; ber father allowed her to deal with a certain firm and 
he paid the bills. 

Political and financial entansrlements overtook Mr. Salter. 
These entries ran over many years, from two to three 
hundred pounds on the firm's books for sroods sent to the Eev. 
James ]\rurdoch. and he could not show any receipts for the 
same. Possibly 'Mr. Salter's books would have set the matter 

The amount was sued, an execution levied, and in the 
most summarv manner the farm was sold at sheriff's sale and 
bid in by the firm. 

This is gathered from "Mr. Frame's version of the story. 
Mrs. ^Murdoch always insisted her father paid up every year. 


Mr. Frame's only remark was, " She ought to have tried to 
live on less money." 

]\Ir. Frame rented a place and carried his father-in-lavr, 
now helpless with dropsy, to it. Mrs. Murdoch was still active. 
She died December 3rd, 1790 ; her husband survived her just 
fifteen days. Mr. Matthew Frame died in 1830. 

The minister's removal from Horton took place in or about 
1787, and I have reason to think my grandmother came to 
Halifax in 1784, for she often told me she lived eight years 
with her grandmother, and I think she married at twenty 
years of age, or in the year 1793. 

Mis5 Frame goes on to state that Andrew came to Halifax 
when his parents left Horton, and that their younger children 
stayed with I\Ir. Frame until they could remove to the 
" Grant " in Musquodoboit, where Mr. Murdoch had accepted 
a call from a small congregation who built him a house wliich 
was burned from a " chopping." He had another built where 
he and his family resided until his death in 1799. 

Here he still visited Gay's Eiver and Shubenacadie ; ISToel, 
Amherst and Fort Lawrence, as well as Musquodoboit, sharing 
his labors. He was careless of money. One time he got ten 
shillings for marrjdng a couple and promised his wife the 
money. On his return he met a neighbor in deep trouble; 
he had gone ten miles to buy seed wheat, and had to return 
without it on account of lack of money. Mr. Murdoch handed 
him the money, and his own were suffering at the tune. 

Mr. ]\Iurdoch was found dead in the Musquodoboit near 
his own house, which he had left a short time before, A Mrs. 
McDonald, the daughter of one of his elders, related to the 
writer how he was found, and no doubt but he had taken a fit 
and so was drowned. He is buried near where the house 
stood. A handsome stone marks the spot and bears the 
following : — 



The Reverend James Murdoch, 

The Earliest Presbyterian Minister of jSTova Scotia. 

Born in Gillie Gordon, Donegal, Ireland, 

Arrived in this Province 1767, 

Died at Musquodoboit '21st November, 1799, 

In the 55th year of his age and 33rd of his ministry, 

and is here interred. 

This stone was erected by his Descendants 


" In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cried nnto 
my God. He heard my voice out of His temple, and my cry 
came before Him, even into His ears." 

"The Lord make you to increase and abound in love one 

toward another."' 

I give the following account of Andrew Murdoch because 
it affords a glimpse of the curious state of things then existing. 
Andrew was the oldest son of the minister, but died before his 
sister, Mrs. Duffus. However, at the time of his death he 
was an old man and all his life his habits and character were 
a constant source of grief and mortification to his sisters. 

Miss Frame gives me these particulars, but they are pre- 
cisely what I have often heard my grandmother relate. 

When Andrew came to Halifax, he entered his ,2jand- 
father Salter's emplo^mnent, where he continued until he went 
into business on his own account. He married a daughter 
of Thoinas Beamish, oud after the death of his father-in-law 
he went to England to defend a suit between the Beamish 
heirs and the government as to the ownership of a wharf and 
other property claimed by them but held l)y the government. 

Mr. ]\rurdoch defended the suit and gained the property. 

He had become responsible for funds to carrv on the suit 
in England, his business had suffered in his absence, and on 
his return the result was that he was thrown into prison for 


debt. Here he shared a cold room and prison fare with 
several others. The building was old, and one night three of 
the inmates, in company with him, made their escape, and 
perhaps because he did not rim away with them he was heavily 
ironed next day and thrown into a cell. He remained in prison 
seven years, beguiling the time in posting books for merchants 
and in the more questionable pursuits practised in this 

Even had the wretched laws for debt allowed it, Mr. Mur- 
doch could not swear out, as he had claims on his dead wife's 
share of the Beamish estate, held by him in trust for his son ; 
and an act of the provincial parliament had to be passed for 
his discharge. 

Broken in health, a stranger in the town, estranged from 
his child, whose only knowledge of his father was that he was 
in jail, without home or employment, he went to the country 
and for the remainder of his life supported himself by teach- 
ing school, aided when too old to work by a small sum given 
by his son. Beamish j\Iurdoch, his son, was brought up by 
a maiden aunt, became a lawyer, and entered the House of 
Assembly in 1826, was the author of An Epitome of the Laws 
of iSTova Scotia, also of a History of Xova Scotia, a very 
treasury of facts relating to the early history of the country. 
He died unmarried in 1875, in the 75th year of his age. 

Halifax was founded in 1749, and Mr. Salter must have 
come here very soon afterwards, from a letter long in the 
possession of his granddaughter, Mrs. Henr}^, and dated 17'69. 
It would seem that he was then comfortably settled and that 
he and his wife had several children. Mrs. Salter was a 
daughter of Captain Mulberry, master of a ship sailing from 
Boston, U. S. A., for many years. He took a cargo of fish 
to the Mediterranean, from thence wine and oil to London. 
Having disposed of these he loaded his ship with everything 
needed in a new country and sailed for Boston, having just 
spent one year on his voyage. 


He brought his daughter Susan, when twelve years old, a 
silver porringer from London. When she rode with her hus- 
band to see her first grandchild in Horton she carried tl:ije 
porringer and gave it to the infant, afterwards my grand- 
mother, who gave it to my mother, and it is now in my pos- 
session, in good order, and now it must be cjuite 145 years old. 

* :[: ***** 

Many years ago there was a family of the name of Holmes 
in Halifax. One of the men belonging it was called Mulberry 
Holmes, and was named after the family of Captain Mulberry. 
His wife must have been well off as well as hospitahle, for 
when a city lady from Boston expressed surprise at tlie large 
dish of custards placed on the table, she said, " Madam, my 
family have mouths." 

Halifax, September 2nd, 1759. 

My Dear Suket, — This is the first opportunity of wi'iting 
to Boston since your departure. I hope this will meet you 
safe arrived there to the joy and satisfaction of yourself and 
friends, the news whereof will alford me pleasure. 

I received your agreeable favor from Lunenburg by Mr. 
Newton; am sorry for any uneasiness whicli happened between 
you and the Newton family, but am glad you had spirit enough 
to let them Imow that you by no means looked upon yourself 
as under the least oldigation to them. 

The governor did not even mention either of their names 
when I spoke to them about your passage in Captain Rogers, 
and since you have been gone the governor has more thaii 
once enquired whether I had licard from you, and drank your 
safe arrival in a bumper. Indeed, the governor has of late 
been more than ordinary complaisant to me as you will per- 
ceive by some passages in the enclosed journal. 

We are all very well. Ben goes regularly to school. 
Nabby's delicate skin a little sunburnt, 'tis impossible to keep 


her always in the ho^^se. Mac is as hearty as a buck; he 
says, " Mama gone Bawson." He is admired in that part of 
the town where he lives. Enclosed you have a journal of our 
dinner company since your departure, for your amusement, 
for I know you to be a very woman for curiosity. 

Hagar behaves better than ever. I have only to tell her 
what I would have provided, and it's got at the minute I order 
it, and in the nicest manner. Mrs. Binney was surprised to 
see how well everything was dressed, and how exceeding 
nice Hagar had provided everything, but said she had a good 
"tutor," (meaning you). Jack is Jack still, but rather 
worse. I am obliged to exercise the cat or stick almost every 
day ; I believe Halifax doesn't afford such another idle, deceit- 
ful villain ; pray purchase a negro boy if possible. 

I have by this opportunity sent Mr. Jackson a bill on Afr. 
Hancock for £300, and ordered him to supply you with every- 
thing you please to call for, and I desire you will gratifie 
yourself with everything you want to purchase for yourself or 
any of the family; don't forget to bring something for Hagar. 
As to our coming home, I would not have you exceed the 1st of 
October, as after that time you may expect bad weather. I 
would have you bring half a barrel of good corn beef and some 
butter, some nutts, green peppers; also get half a barrel of 
Neat's tongues; but why need I mention any of these things 
to 3'Ou? I am sure your careful temper and disposition will 
urge you to procure ever3)'thing that is prudent and necessary. 

I find it is not good for man to be alone. I am weary of 
my life without you, and should urge your coming home 
immediately were it not th?.t I think you are happy in the 
company of your friends in Boston. 

Your father will sail for Boston in about a week, when I 
sliall write you again, and you may depend on it I shall omit 
no opportunity of writing to you. Tell Mrs. Jackson I shall 
disown her for my sister if she will not write to me, and I 
charge you to bring Betty to Halifax with you. 


Enclosed is a letter from jNIr. Smith for Sukey, wliicli he 
asked my permission to send her. I have read it; 'tis of no 
consequence, you may read it. Don't come away without my 
account from ]\Ir. Jackson. I have purchased some geese and 
young ducks which I shall fatten till you arrive. I know you 
are fond of ducklings. 

I have laid in most of my wood and got the chief of my 
fence done and now enclosing the fine green pasture at the 
back of our garden. The governor comes regularly every 
morning to see how 1 go on ; he has this day given me a very 
good lot in the north suburbs. Excuse, my dear, the incoher- 
ence of this letter. I mention things just as they occur to my 
memory. I sincerely wish you happy in your absence and 
happy at your return, and believe me 

Your truly alfectionate husband. 

Malachi Salter. 

X. B. — Malaehi Salter was ]\Irs. W. J. Stairs' grand- 
mother's grandfather. 

Halifax, 12tli, 1770. 
Dear Benjamin, — I wrote you in August last per Cap- 
tain Knox (the bearer of this), but you not being arrived from 
x\frica he left it with Mr. Smith, of East, so that I make no 
doubt of your having received it. We were in great expecta- 
tion (from what you wrote from Fayal) to liave seen you per 
Knox's last return to Halifax. I hope we shall not be again 
disappointed as he returns directly to Halifax. 

Our honored father is not yet arrived from England, but 
expected daily. \\'e have not heard from him since June last. 
We imagine he has been detained by an embargo on shipping 
in London. Mr. Bridge writes you ])er the Eion, Captain 
J\Iiirphy, a ship now i-eady to sail. Should you meet with 
Murpby in tlie West Indies, lie Avill be able to give you an 
account of my father's long detention in Europe, as the Lion 
■was the last vessel that arrived here from London. 

^ 1 

Brother Mac is still in London, studying at the hospitals. 
We don't expect to see him till the beginning of next summer. 
You have enclosed a letter from mamma ; she has had an ill 
turn of sickness lately, but is now recovered and in good health, 
as are all the rest of the family. Nabby and her husband, I 
believe, are well; we heard from them about a week since. 
They are going from Horton to Amherst, a township near 
Cumberland. She has had four children, one of which is dead. 

Business at present is rather dull ; India goods of all kinds 
are very scarce and dear, as you see per the enclosed price 
current. There are now several vessels ready to sail bound to 
the AVest Indies. Should you be inclined for speculation and 
come here with a cargo it would turn out to very good account. 

Wishing you all manner of health, happiness and pros- 
perity, and in earnest expectation of seeing you ere long, 
I remain, dear Benjamin, 

Your sincerely affectionate brother, 

Joseph Salter. 
Captain Benjamin Salter. 

Halifax, Dccemlcr, 1782. 

Dear Jos. — With a heavy heart I'm forced to inform you 
of the greatest distress that I've ever yet experienced, or 
indeed ever shall; but how shall I relate it? Dear Jo, 'tis 
the death of the best of friends. Poor Mac, after only a week's 
illness and four days of that short space delirious, died — he, 
whose agreeable presence could infuse new life into every 
bosom, is gone, gone forever. But why should we grieve? ISTo 
doubt he is happy, and as Pope says, "Whatever is, is right." 
Our loss is great, everything seems to wear a different aspect. 
Our poor mother bears it like a Christian; she, poor woman, 
is diseased from top to toe, and I think cannot live long. Your 
friends Thompson and Crawley are likewise gone to ye shades. 

We have had a very' sickly season here of late, owing, as is 
supposed, to foggy, dull weather. 



Brother Ben seems greatly distressed on your account; 
thinks all is not right with you as your remittances have not 
been punctual. Pray write him particular. You know little 
matters affect his brain. I am at present out of employ. Spry 
on a very frivolous occasion has sent me off; could wish when 
your present business is closed to bo concerned with you in a 
snugg way. 

Mr. Simpson and Nancy are to be married as soon as 
decency will permit. It promises to be a very happy match. 
Sally, I believe, will reside with tliem. 

Hoping this will find you in good health and spirits, I 

Your affectionate brother and friend, 

W. Salter. 

Philadelphia, October 17th , 1783. 
Dearest Suket, — After nine days' passage I arrived here 
safe. I have seen my old friend Mr. Smith and family, who 
received me very kindly, and to-morrow morning I set off 
for Trenton to see Mr. ]\Ieredith. Am in some hopes of 
accomplishing my business, but shall be able to say more when 
I have seen him. The difficulty, if any, will be negotiating a 
bill on Halifax, but perseverance and an honest heart I think 
will overcome it; if not, my stay must be longer here than I 
or you could wish. However, keep up your spirits, my dear 
girl; ;is soon as it is possible to return to you, you are certain 
I shall not delay a moment. 

Mv dutv and love to my mother and yours, your father, etc, 
1 earnestly pray God to keep you in His holy care and pro- 
tection, not doubting yours for me. To His kind providence I 
Commend you. 

I am, my dear Sukey, yours, 

Benj. Salter. 
Wrote in haste. 

I shall expect a line from you per Captain Hodkinson. 
This is endorsed : 

My letter to Sukey, October, 1783. 


Halifax, December Sth, 1783. 
Mr. Ts. Bridge, 

Dear Sir, — Yesterday I received your very kind favor of 
20th of September which, afforded us the pleasing satisfaction 
that you and sister Sukey were well. On the 19th ult. I 
answered yours of ye 28tli July, per the S. Lawrence, acquaint- 
ing you that I had been at Philadelphia and obtained an 
assignment of Meredith Mortgage to Mr. Fillis for £8G8 curry. 

I thereby prevented Mr. Butler's connections from injur- 
ing the estate, which they most certainly intended had I not 
accomplished, as Mr. Dight wrote by his uncle''s desire for that 
purpose. Of this Mr. Meredith informed me after I had 
transacted the business, but I now set his unbounded malice 
at defiance. 

As to selling the estate, I think you misapprehended the 
state of it, as it rents for £300 per annum and is more likely 
to continue than not; it is certainly evident that in the course 
of a few years it will be clear of encumbrances and be worth 
£3,000 at least. This is something to divide among the heirs, 
whereas selling it now would not yield much more than pay 
the debts. It's more likely to continue so for the great emi- 
gration to this province, say 30,000, already arrived, and vast 
numbers more coming raises not only the present value, but 
promises a long continuance before settlements can be found 
for such a number, and to this add the consequence it is of 
at present to Great Britain being the asylum of their Avretched 
refugees who must l^e supported, and serving as a check on 
the congress dominions. 

In short this province must now rise and flourish. In my 
last I informed you of my plan of business here in a ship 
chandler's store. Inclosed you have a copy of mine to T. B. 
& Co., which will fully explain my intentions, and which I 
hope will prove beneficial. Please to forward the same and 
assist me if you can. I know of do other plausible plan at 
present, except the fishery, which requires a large capital; 


or the sugar house, which might uow bo carried on to advan- 
tage. But alas, I cannot reach far enough. 

My good mother has received the cannister of Maredants 
Drops, and this day begins to take agreeable to directions 
and your desire. I hope 'twill do her good. She is at times 
very cheerful still, and it jnay be will recover with God's 

I thank you for your forbearance respting my debt to you ; 
it has essentially served me, and I'll remember and pay it with 

[This is unsigned, but evidently written by Captain Salter 
after he returned from Philadelphia.] 

Dear Brother, — At length the melancholy task is 
assigned me of informing you as well as my dear sisters, that 
our good mother is gone to rest from all her suffering in this 
sublunary state, and I trust is now enjoying a blessed reward 
in the mansions of the blest in Heaven. She had long com- 
plained of a sore throat which made it difficult for her to take 
substantial food. This was made up, however, in a good 
degree by such substitutes as are usual in lilce cases, but we 
could perceive her dissolution approaching. She was exceed- 
ing deaf for several months past, and abt five days before 
she departed, in getting up in the morning her knees failed 
her, and she was unable to rise into her chair. She was so 
weak that my wife lifted lior up and at her retjuest put her in 
bed again, as I was not then at homo. The next day, however, 
she was better and got up as usual, l)ut the succeeding day 
being Sunday I was called up to her wlion I found her in the 
same situation — her knees failed her and unable to rise, when 
we got her to bed again, where she lay resigned to the will 
of God, not fearing to die, but calm and tranquil, waiting her 
great change, which she was very sensible was fast approach- 
ing. A slight delirium took place the next day, and on Wed- 
nesday morning the 19th February, 1794, she expired without 
a groan at abt 8 o'clock. I took care that her funeral should 


be conducted in the most decent manner, and there was a very 
respectable number who attended, when her remains were laid 
on the left hand side of our late venerable father's. 

I have been thus circumstantial, as I thought it would 
yield you some little consolation that everything was done that 
could be thought of to soften her pains, and render her depart- 
ing moments as easy as possible, and to respect her memory. 
Thus, my Dr. Brot., God has been pleased to take out of this 
transitory world our Dear Valued Mother. It may be truly 
said that s]ie possessed a human heart., an elevated mind, 
which were fully displayed when near her exit. 

I shall never forget the calm reply she made to Dr. Brown 
when he asked her respecting her willingness to depart. She 
said she feared not death, but waited God's pleasure. 'Twas 
an affecting scene. May you and I, and all concerned inl;his 
mournful event make a due use and improvement of it by its 
reminding us of the uncertainty of life that we may be prepar- 
ing for that important hour to each of us, when our call will 
likewise come. ' Tis indeed an important consideration and 
claims our closest attention. That it may have its proper 
effect on us all is my earnest prayer. 

Eequesting you to communicate this letter to our sisters as 
prudently as you can, I remain 

Your sorrowing and affectionate Brother. 

N". B. — The writer in this letter refers to the death 
of Mrs. Malachi Salter. 



Softly-pleasing Solitude, 
Were thy blessings understood 
Soon would thoughtless mortals grow 
Tired of noise and pomp and show. 
And, with thee retreating gain 
Pleasure crowds pursue in vain, 
True, the friendly social mind 
Joy in converse oft can find; 
Not where empty mirth presides, 
But with those whom wisdom guides. 
Yet the long continued feast 
Sometime palls upon the taste, 
Kind alternate, then to be 
Lost in thought awhile with thee; 
Intellectual pleasures here 
In their truest light appear; 
Grave reflection, friendly power, 
Waits the lonely silent hour. 
Spread before the mental eye. 
Actions past in order lie; 
By reflection's needful aid 
Latent errors are display'd 
Thus humility is taught, 
Tlius confirmed the better thought. 
Friends and soothing praise apart 
Solitude unveils the heart; 
When tiie veil is thrown aside, 
Can we see a cause for pride ? 
Empty is the heart and poor, 
Stripped of all its fancied store; 
Conscious want awakes desire. 
Bids the restless wish aspire, 
Wish for riches never found 
Through the globe's capacious round. 
Contemplation, sacred guest. 
Now inspires the ardent breast; 
Spreads her wing, and bids the mind 
Rise and leave the world behind. 
Now the mind enraptured soars; 
All the wealth of India's shores 
Is but dust beneath her eye; 
Nobler treasures kept on high. 
Treasures of eternal joy 
Now her great pursuit employ. 


Mansions of immense delight 
Language cannot say how bright 
Seie the op'ning gates display, 
Beaming for immortal day ! 
See ! inviting angels smile, 
And applaud the glorious toil ! 

This fragment I found in the pocket book with the fore- 
going letters, but cannot tell if it is original, or a copy from 
one of the early English poets, but it seemed worth preserving. 

19th March, 1883. I have now finished, and hope what I 
have written may be interesting to my children. 

Susan Stairs, 

19 South Street, Halifax. 



" A sister of my grandmother ]\Iorrow married Mr. Mould. 
When in England in the year 1845 we went to see Mrs. Mould, 
who had been a widow many years; she was an old but very 
handsome woman, living with her only child, George, in the 
town of Eendal. Her son and his wife were absent from 
home. They have an only child, John, and all are I believe 
still living. Mr. George ^Mould built the first Spanish rail- 
way, and for the last twenty years has lived in Spain. Indeed 
he constructed the second chiefly to obtain the money he had 
expended upon the first. 

Isaac Dodds was another cousin of my father's. A man 
of great mechanical ability, always inventing machines for 
all descriptions of manufacturies and disposing of the patents 
to others, who made large profits out of them. In 1845 his 
patents were in use all over England. Isaac Dodd's sister, 
Ellen, I thinlv was her name, married John Stephenson, the 
railway contractor, l»ut no relation to the celebrated George 
Stephenson. These two men were born in the same village, 
grew up together and worked together for many years. John 
Stephenson worked also with the well-known railway con- 
tractors " Peto, Betts & Brassy,'' and was a man of great 
integrity. I last saw Mrs. Stephenson in 186-i. Her family 
consisted of several daughters and one son, John George." 

The original of the following letter is in the possession of 
Mr. Benjamin Salter, Pleasant Street, Halifax [llarch, 
1883]. It seems to liave been only a draft of the letter sent, 
and is unsigned; Init I ha\e several Ictterse in the same 
writing addressed to the .same person, and signed B. Salter. 
A letter written by Mr. jMalachi Salter is addressed to Captain 
B. Salter, evidently his son. I only insert this letter because 
it confirms what I have written respecting my grandfather's 
(^Ir. DufTiis) having provided for his wife's brother. 


Halifax^ November 10 , 1796. 
Mr. John Smith: 

Dear Sir,—1 had the pleasure of receiving yr much 
esteemed favor intended per Mr. Adams, in wliich you mention 
yr nephew Mr. Smith, now on board L'Prevvyante, Capt. 
Wemyss. Tho he had been here before and for some time 
now, I neither knew or heard of it 'til a few days previous to 
the receipt of your last letter, or I should have been extremely 
happy in shewing him every respect in my power. The Prev- 
vj'ante being ready for sea, I much fear his duty on board 
will prevent his coming on shore again; if not, I promise 
myself (God willing) the pleasure of seeing him often at my 
house on his return, where not only him but any related to 
you or yours shall ever be received with the most welcome 
and friendly reception. I have three nephews on board Le 
Prevvyante — William Salter Murdoch, my sister's son, who 
is captain's clerk, and Samuel Cleveland, an intended mid- 
shipman, who I beg leave to introduce to your notice. Should 
W. Salter Murdoch be in want of a small supply to furnish 
necessaries or otherwise, his draft either on myself or on his 
brother-in-law, Mr. William Duffus, of this place, will be duly 

I was truly sorry to find that you had been so long 
afflicted with the rheumatism, a disorder which frequently 
attacked me tho' not lately ; but was pleased with your recital 
of that attention with which your amiable partner has endeav- 
ored to lessen your pains and perhaps thereby in some measure 
turn them into a sort of blessing. I can only say you have 
my best good wishes for your happiness; no time or distance 
can or ought ever to efface that regard, alter that respect most 
sincerely entertained by me for you and yours. 

Requesting a continuance of correspondence when agree- 
able to you, as opports now frequently occur. I remain, 

P. S. — As a remedy for the rheumatism I wear constantly 
a roll of brimstone in my breeches pocket; when I have 


accidently left it off I have been attacked; on wearing it again 
I have felt Telief, but it must be worn constantly. The best 
way is to enclose it in a bit of linen by sewing it up in order 
to prevent the disagrceableness of its scent, which effectually 
answers that end. I have been told likewise the free use of 
good cider is an antidote. Don't laugh at my quackery, 
because I have known many here relieved by these simple, tho 
unaccountable remedies. This climate is very subject to that 
painful disorder. 

Gum guaicum is what the doctors prescribe, and the decoc- 
tion of the woods, but a roll of brimstone is better than all 
their wise receipts. 

Mr, Hurd and family are well and request their respects 
to be made to you. 

The Mr. John Fillis here mentioned became a purser in the 
navy, married a lady in London with a large fortune and died 
in London, leaving a family living there. 

I have a card bearing an invitation to dinner from the 
governor and wife, to the father of this young man, and dated 

For the account of the Murdoch family beginning at page 
31, I am indebted to Miss Eliza Frame. 

I may here mention Unit my grandmother Duffus was 
singularly fond of children, and may have inlierited the love 
for them from licr own grandmother Murdoch, whose temper 
was often sorely ti-ied by the pranks of the minister's children. 
Some people would have called them " little imps." but the 
good grandmother always called them " little sylphs," and as 
she said. " It did just as well." 

The .Murdoch family were perfectly free from the hardness 
and sternness characteristic of the people of the north of Ire- 


land, l)ut some of their neighbours who emigrated with them 
possessed these qualities to tlieir fullest extent. The minister 
heard a story which grieved and mortified him exceedingly, so 
he wrote to the culprit demanding an answer and asking if it 
was possible the story could be true. Mr. Hill replied 
immediately to tliis eifect : 

He married a young girl under twenty years of age ; a deli- 
cate thing, tenderly brought up. "Wlien he brought her home 
to his house, his mother, who lived with him, told the wife she 
would have to take her share of the farm work, particularly 
milking, and sweeping, and clearing the byre or cow house. 
The work was hard, the young woman got homesick, the old 
woman was cold and stern, so Mrs. Hill determined to run 
away home, a distance of many miles. She got up in the 
morning at a very early hour and set off for home on foot, 
but it was not long before her husband missed her, and he 
got on horseback and followed his wife, and overtook her 
before she had gone many miles. 

When he reached her he jumped off his horse, stripped his 
wife to her chemise, put the halter on her neck and whipped 
her home. She never tried to run away again. 

Mr. Hill wound up his letter with a nice verse of poetry, 
ending with 

" And no more at present from John Thomas Hill." 
My grandmother DulFus kept this letter for many years, 
but it was lost, I am sorry to say, before she told mo the story. 
However, she repeated the concluding lines to me, and I 
remembered them for many years, though now I have 
forgotten them. 

Malachy Salter, died at Halifax, 1781, aged 64 years. 
Susannah Salter, died at Halifax, 1794, aged 68 years. 

Both are buried in old St. Eaul's burying ground. The 
tombstones are in good preservation, the graves are in the 
north-west corner, opposite St. Mary's. 


Mr. Salter ^vas a rich man when he came to Halifax; 
he brought with liim three servants, a man and two women. 
My grandmother told me that her grandfather's house, fur- 
niture, and china were good and handsome ; one of his china 
phitcs is now in my possession. ]\Irs. Samuel iSToble has 
several dresses which belonged to her great-grandmother, in 
excellent preservation; they are exceedingly handsome and 
have been often worn at fancy balls in Halifax. Mrs. 
Stewart, a daughter of Benjamin Salter, bequeathed these 
dresses to her niece, Mrs. Noble, with the proviso that they 
must not bo worn by any but a descendant of Mrs. Salter. 
Mrs. Salter also possesses ivory miniatures of Mr, and ?.Irs. 
Salter, set in gold. 

Mrs. Bain, also a daughter of B. Salter, left by will to 
Mrs. Donaldson the half length portraits in oil of her grand- 
father and grandmother Salter, both good pictures; the latter 
is very pleasing. 

My great-great-grandfather was an ardent republican; 
beside him in his portrait is painted the " Life of Cromwell," 
the name distinctly marked on the back of the book; 
while on the anniversary of the death of King Charles, 
Mr. Salter always had a sheep's head for dinner. I do not just 
see the connection, unless he meant to imply a resemblance 
between the two heads. 

On October the lOth, 1777, was passed an order-in council 
for the arrest of Malachy Salter on a charge of corresponding 
with ])arties in Boston of a dangerous tendency, and a prose- 
cution was ordered. The original indictment of the grand 
jury was found a few years ago in the court house, and is now 
in the possession of the Historical Society. In this paper is 
stated that Malachy Salter is reported to have said, " He did 
not think the rebels were so far wrong,"' but upon this the 
grand jury indicted him for high treason; but Mr. Salter was 
allowed to give security himself in £500, and two others each 
£250 for his good behaviour. He was tried in the supreme 


court and acquitted. Murdoch mentions this affair in his 

I have seen the indictment and am sorry I did not copy 
the names of the grand jury; but Abraham Cunard was one 
of them, whose eldest son, Samuel, afterwards married a great 
granddaughter of Mr. Salter. 

Mr. Salter built, and for many years lived in, the house 
standing on the south-west corner of Hollis Street and Salter 
Street. The front door is very curious, as it bears a St. 
Andrew's cross on it instead of the ordinary perpendicular 

Mr. Salter owned the block extending from Hollis to 
Pleasant street, to some distance south of the Academy of 
Music and brigade office. 

A 'Mr. Thomas Bridge is mentioned by Murdoch in his 
history of Nova Scotia, as a member of the House of Assembly, 
and is most probably the husband of Mr. Salter's daughter 
" Sukey," or " Susan." A handsome portrait of Mr. Bridge 
is still existing, done in chalks. He and his wife went to 
London a few years after their marriage, and there died. They 
never had any children. 

Mr. Simpson and his wife, who was a daughter of Malachi 
Salter, also went to London, became rich and left a large 
family. Some of the sons became possessed of large property, 
and were well known men in the city of London; one, Mr. 
Thomas Simpson, was a great friend of my imcle, John 

An Illustrated London News in July, 1905, contained a 
portrait of, and an article on, Dr. Blandford, an eminent 
scientist, who was a grandson of tliis Mr. Simpson. 

Besides the children of Mr. Malachy Salter mentioned in 
the letters, there was a younger son, a doctor of medicine, 
named Montague Wilmot Salter, most likely called after the 
then governor of Nova Scotia. 


Boston, September 11th, 17S — , 
j\Ir. Joseph Fairbanks: 

Sir, — Inclosed 3'ou have invoice and bill of lading for 
sundryes sliip't you p the sloop " Elizabeth and Sarah," 
Daniel Tilton, master, on account and risque as follo^\^5 vizt, 
Salter, Kneeland & Fairbanks, 3-4, and Robert Pierpont 1-4. 

Boards are very scarce and will continue scarce and dear 
all this fall; we would not have you sell these under £5 per 
thousand, as we are sure they will fetch it. 

We are, sir, your most humble servants, 

Malaciii Salter, Jr. & Co. 

The writer was a son of j\Ialachi Salter, senior. 


Captain Benj. Salter, 

on l)oard the brig " Hope," 

Halifax, Decemher 19th, 17S0. 
I hope by the time this reaches Surinam my dearest friend 
will be in readyness to return. Xever since I knew the sweets 
of friendship, did the time hang so heavy on m}- hands. If 
tlie serenity of the weather invites me forth, pleasM I behold 
the beauty of the sky, and faintly trace my God in all His 
works! But these are pictures of a moment, which are oft 
accompany'd with pain, for when the mind is open to reflec- 
tion, it traces back the happyest period of my life, when hand 
in hand, we walk'd along and unreserv'd convers'd. 

To a mind like yours, a declaration so foreign to the 
present style, will not be deem'd the effects of flattery or a 
warm imagination, but the natural dictates of a heart to whom 
you'r ever dear. 

Wlierefore I will not attempt to extinguish a passion that 
Heaven itself has rais'cl, but careful I'll cherish every thought 
that leads to harmless joy. 


Of many sorrows I have had my share, but with greati- 
tude I bless that power, who has endow'd me with a heart to 
know and love a friend sincere. 

And such to me's my dearest Ben ! 

You will doubtless be surpris'd on your arrival at St. 
Eustatia to hear of a vessel from Halifax without a line for 
you. Mac and I have wrote two long epistles, but the un- 
expected departure of the vessel prevented my sending them; 
if either is to blame, 'tis me. 

I often visit our friends at the corner, where you are still 
the subject of conversation the greatest part of the evening. 
You might have many more eloquent advocates, but none 
more sincere; your brother writes by this conveyance; for 
family news I refer you to him. 

Betsy and my brother, with several others, desire their best 
wdshes ]iiay accompany this scrawl; in hopes of seeing you 
soon, I bid you but a short farewell. 

Propitious heaven, preserve you from all harm, and soon 
unite our souls in bliss, to part no more! Till then may we 
be kept from every ill, and our kind head obey ! 

Michael Cunningham. 
P. S. — You alreadv know mv advantages for education 

which }'our generosity will allow as a suficient apology for the 
incorrectness of this scrawl. 

To Mr. Joseph Fairbanks, 



pr Mr. Pierpont. 

Boston, April 7th, 1789. 
Extract : 

P. S. — ]\Iy wife has sent you down a small kegg of eggs 
as her adventure, which please to sell for the most they will 
fetch, and send the returns in half pence, if you have any 


quantity of half pence by you, please to send me up ten pounds 
sterling more ; head them up in a strong cask. You may put 
my wife's with them. 


No. F 2, 32i doz. eggs at 4/3 £6 18 1 

Salt to pack them in 1 00 

£7 18 1 
(Signed) John Fillis. 

Written by Mrs. Henry, and sent to me by her daughter, 
Mrs. Edward Allison, July, 1884. 

Mrs. Henry read them to me when she wrote them. 

I was led to make these remarks by reading Doctor Cum- 
mings' discourse, from which I copied the paragraph wherein 
he says: 

" Scotland is the only country where the Jew has never 
been maltreated in his past." 

It then struck me that the likeness between the t^vo 
nations was very great. The Jews term the day of rest the 
"Sabbath," and I know of no other people who do so but 
the " Scotch." 

The doctor says the Jews prefer being called " Israelites," 
and we know the other people think the term " Scotch " vul- 
gar, preferring " Scot," or the " Feople of Scotland." 

I suppose they would feel themselves insulted if we were 
to tell them how much they are like the Jews, but I am sure 


all that I have mentioned is far from being a disgrace, but on 
the contrary, an honor to them. 

Various phases of resemblance between the Israelites and 
the Scottish nation: 

First — Their profound adoration of the Almighty. 
Second — Their pious veneration of the sacred Scriptures of 

the Old Testament. 
Third — Their reverence for the prophets, who wrote those 

Fourth — Their strict observance of the Sabbath. 
Fifth — Their respect and obedience to parents. 
Sixth — Their preference for sons before daughters. 
Seventh — The importance they attach to their family 

Eighth — Their love of going abroad, the members of both 

nations being found all over the habitable globe. 
Ninth — Their desire of accumulating wealth. 
Tenth — Their fondness for rich apparel. 
Eleventh — Their dislike of swine's flesh. 

Now if we add to this their excessive pride, prejudice and 
obstinacy, we shall perceive a striking likeness between the 
two nations. i 




"But be filleii with the Spirit, speaking to yourselves in Psalms 
aJid hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your 
heart to the Lord."— Eph. V., 18, 19. 

May sacred song your joys prolong, 

And music thrill your soul, 
In the struggles of life, its toils and strife. 

While hours and minutes roll. 
Sing to His praise, in joyful lays, 

Who came to bleed and die; 
To save from sin, your soul to win 

To reign with Him on high. 
Rich in His grace, in every place 

In every state and station, 
Even to the end, letin on this Friend, 

And trust His " Great Salvation." 
So shall you know, while here below. 

Your Saviour, Lord and King. 
So bless His name, and spread His fame. 

Saved by His grace, all troubLes face. 

And cast all fears away; 
Upon His breast repose and rest, 

And wait, and watch and pray. 
Safely go on. till life is done, 

In Jesus' bles.sied name. 
And feed on Him though sight be dim, 

Nor fear reproach nor shame. 
Nor faint nor fail, o'er all prevail 

Through Him who "overcame." 

May grace and peace, as daj's increase, 

With rapture fill your soul ; 
Oh may His power, in every hour, 

Your heart and life control ! 
Roused by His love, all praise above. 

May heart and voice combine. 
Rich songs of praise to Him to raise 

" In rapture all divine." 
Oh did all earth but know His worth, 

Then every heart and tongue. 
With saints above would sound His love. 

In loudest, sweetest song ! 


Sucn be your days, all bright with praise 

Joyous to live and die, 
Then crowned with light, in " glory bright " 

To reign with Him on high. 
And when the hour of death's dark power, 

With all its dread array 

Shedding celestial day 
Is come — May He then near you be, 
Round thee and thine in love divine. 

And His rich grace display; 
Singing then fly to your Home on high 

While glory leads the way. 

September, 12ih, 188^. 

S. T. Rand, 

Died October, 1889. 



We have now given all that is known to us of our dear 
fatlier's and dear mother's family history. Before closing 
this volume we would like to add a few more pages, for as 
yet we have said nothing of the closing years of our father's 
life. After he retired from the Presidency of the Union 
Bank, he lived a very liappy and cheerful life. I well 
remember on one occasion, as we sat talking together, he 
turned to me and said : " I am having a splendid time now ; 
in the morning I go to the office for an hour or two, thence 
home to an early dinner, and after taking a rest your mother 
and I go for a drive ; and in the evening you boys come in for 
a game of whist. You know, I could not have done this when 
I was younger." 

For an old man his health was excellent, and he kept very 
well until in February 1904, he had an attack of la g"rippe. not 
very serious at the time, but its after-effects were trying in 
the extreme. Herbert came down frequently in the spring 
of 1904, and was a great comfort and assistance to his father. 
Mr. Devine, a medical student, was engaged to look after 
father, who during the summer seemed quite happy, sitting 
in the garden and driving occasionally. Towards the close 
of the summer he gi-ew much weaker. 

In September, 1904, our brother John died. This was a 
great grief to our father, and he felt it very much. After 
John's death his eyes began to fail, and in a short time he 
completely lost his eyesight, and he tlien became so weak and 
frail that he took to his bed for good, occupying the room 
which had always been known as Mary's room. 

Herbert and Gavin were good and kind, coming down 
week about to help in nursing. They continued their \dsits 
until February, 1905. The winter of 1904-5 was exceedingly 
stormy; Ave had more snow during these months than we had 
had for many years. It was, therefore, very difficult for 
them, both in coming and going. The roads became so 


blocked with snow that it was impossible for them to continue 
their visits, and it was about tliis time that a second Inurse 
came in to assist. Though very lielpless and totally blind, 
father seemed quite happy during the long summer of 1905. 
Many of his friends went in to see him, and he was always 
pleased to hear the news, and to learn what was going on. He 
liked to be read to, and Baxter always had an interesting book 
or magazine ready. His sons paid him many visits, Jim 
being especially kind in this respect ; he went up almost every 
evening, and after talking for an hour or two Jim would read 
from the Bible, after which our dear old father would pray 
aloud, never forgetting to name each of his children in his 

The 15th of June, 1905, was the 60th anniversary of their 
wedding da}^, and in the absence of Mr. Falconer, Dr. Currie 
came in and held a short service, father lying in bed at the 
time. His sons and daughters-in-law were all there, and in 
addition, Uncle George, Aunt Maggie Troop, Mr. Jones the 
Lieutenant-Governor, Miss Sutherland. We all thought then 
that dear father would never live to see another anniversary 
of his wedding day. 

On tlie Sunday before father's death, Jim and I went in 
after church to see him, as was our usual custom. Motlier 
seemed much concerned, for a great change had taken place, 
and father looked as if he could not last much longer. It 
was arranged tliat Jim should come in on Sunday night, and 
that I would come on Monday and remain until Tuesday 
morning. Father had a fairly good night on Sunday, and 
it was not until the following night that the great change 
came. He could not sleep, neither could he rest at all, for 
his breathing troubled him greatly, and yet all through that 
long night he was so patient and considerate. I did every- 
thing I could think of, giving him a little wine several times. 
I said all I could to comfort him : holding his hand, I told 
him what a good, kind father he had been to us all. He 
replied that he did not know. His voice then became so indis- 


tinct that I could not understand what he said. In the 
morning Mr. Devine came in and at 7.30 I left for home, but 
had only been in the house a few minutes when the telephone 
bell rang, and a message came saying that father was dying, 
and if I left at once I might be in time to see him. I hurried 
over, but only to find that dear father had died a few minutes 
before I reached his side. 

Our dear father had his favorite verses in the Bible, which 
he would have read over, more than once requesting the reader 
to read very slowly. He was fond of : " God is a Spirit, 
and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and 
in truth "; and this verse we shall put upon his grave stone. 

Everyone who thinks now of the closing years of our dear 
father's life will remember what a quiet, calm, and restful 
spirit his was. How bright and cheerful; how pleasant to 
talk to, with his many stories and reminiscences of the past. 
How he rejoiced in the success of others, and what a deep 
sympathy he ever had for the unfortunate. 

" He laiighed not at another's loss, 
He grudged not at another's gain. 
No worldly wave his mind could toss ; 
He brooked that was another's bane. 

When we gave the manuscripts to the printer we looked 
forward with great pleasure to reading this book to our dear 
mother, but hy the dispensation of God she was taken away 
from us on October 19th, 190G, and was buried on her 84th 

She was nmch interested in our father's writings, from 
what we told her as the ^^■ork took shape, although she had 
never read any of them. She had written a history of her 
family from knowledge gained chiefly from her grandmother, 
Mrs. William Duff us, Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Bain and others, and 
also from old family letters, which history we have incor- 
porated in the volume. 


For some months after our father's death on the 27th 
February, 1906, she was very well and bright, and attended 
to her household and other duties with much pleasure; but 
after that she began to miss him very much, and said to the 
writer very often : "It is very lonely and dull," and spoke 
very much of him. 

On Monday evening, 15th October, she had a small party 
of her grandchildren to meet Dorothy, who had just 
returned from England, and she seemed bright and cheerful, 
but tired ; and the next day she stayed in bed and said to 
Eleanor that she had given her last party, and was going to 
rest. We had Dr. Lindsay to see her, and he told her she 
would have to stay in bed several days, and she seemed con- 
tented to do it, which was much against her usual custom. 

On Thursday morning (Thanksgiving Day), I went in 
to see her, but she was sleeping. She looked so calm and 
peaceful we all thought she would be all right in a day or 
two. I went in again in the evening at six o'clock and took 
a light into her room. She tlien looked as if she was asleep, 
but as I turned away she said, " Charlie ! " I said who it 
was, and she began to talk so brightly about things which she 
wanted done: putting up the double windows, cutting down 
some old trees in the garden, putting the wood in the barn 
to be sawn. She also mentioned that Sunday would be her 
birthday, and she would be eighty-four years of age. I said 
we would all he up to see her. She then said, " Kiss me,'* 
and I said good night. 

On Friday morning about seven o'clock Charlie telephoned 
that mother had a sick turn during the night. She awoke 
early and called him — he was sleeping in the next room — 
and he at once went to her. She complained of not feeling 
well; after a little time she seemed to be betterl, and spoke 
of several things she wanted done during the day. Soon after 
this she relapsed into a state of unconsciousness and had 
great difficulty jn breathing. Dr. Lindsay was at once sent 


for, but all he could do was to help her in her breathing. She 
remained this way until about half-past two in the afternoon, 
when she passed away. 

You will notice in her history how she mentions the 
goodness, and kindness, and love of her mother, grandmother 
and others : in her own life she had all of their virtues ; before 
all, being a simple Christian, Daughter, Sister, Wife and 
Mother. She died as she had lived. 



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