him the Service for the Visitation of the Sick. He lay upon a couch propped up with pillows, apparently in the extremity of weakness, but, at the conclusion of the last prayer, astonished those who were present by rising to his feet, and, supporting himself with one hand, raised the other high above his head, and pronounced with firm tones the episcopal blessing upon the family and servants assembled. The next day he was able to send for his servants to bid them farewell, to thank them for their faithful attendance, and to exhort them to live in the faith and fear of God, and afterwards he dictated a list of sums of money which he wished to be given to them after his death. It was his last act. Shortly after he became unconscious, and, watched by his family, in the early morning of the 16th he sank tranquilly to his rest. Many came together to do him honour, and as they took their last view of that which once was their friend, wondered at the majesty and peace which rested on those noble features glorified by death. The funeral was solemnised at the end of the week; the early part of the service in the Cathedral on the Friday, while the final deposit was made on Saturday at Shorwell. There was a great gathering. The Bishop was there and read the Lesson, and the service was intoned by the Dean, who also on the Sunday following preached an admirable funeral sermon in memory of their departed brother. The members of the Chapter were there, headed by the venerable ex-dean, Dr. Bramston, and made a goodly show, and all the resources of that great institution were lavished on the solemnity of the occasion. The Mayor and Corporation were there, and in addition to the members of his family, old friends from all quarters, whose names recalled the story of his life, representatives of the Navy, which he loved so well, of the sister service, his former and far-distant diocese, the archdeaconries of Huntingdon and of the Isle of Wight, Winchester College, and the two Universities, and many others, all with some story on their lips of his friendship and goodness. Reverently, and amid a crowd of mourners drawn from his old friends and neighbours in the island, his coffin was laid beside that of his wife in the churchyard at Shorwell. Divided but a little while and now again united, they rest in hope, waiting for the great awakening which is the promise of the Kingdom, which they served so long together. And there we must also leave them. Dormite dulces animæ in pace Christi. Any attempts to sum up Bishop McDougall's character by one so near to him as the compiler of these Memoirs might be liable to the objection that it was the language of natural but possibly too partial panegyric, but the record in memoriam of him in the 'Guardian,' from the pen of Canon Warburton, may be quoted as a fair and true estimate: His character was a rare combination of gentleness and daring, of tenderness and strength, the two extremes harmonised, transfused, and sanctified by an ever-present and habitual consciousness of nearness to God and communion with Him. 'But perhaps the most predominant feature in his rich and gifted nature was his capacity for strong, warm, and enduring personal attachment. What he was in his own family cannot and need not here be said, but this is the testimony of the friend whom perhaps of all others, out of his own immediate family, he most loved and honoured: "He was the kindest, truest, best of friends to me-a truer and honester heart never beat on earth. He and your dear mother have left a void which can never be filled in this life. . . . For my dear friend and brother we can only be thankful that he has ceased from his sufferings and is with his Saviour." APPENDIX EXTRACTS OF LETTERS REFERRED TO IN BISHOP MCDOUGALL'S LETTER OF OCTOBER 17, 1859. No. 1. From the Rev. W. Gomez. The Datu Hadji has been here, and trying hard to persuade one of my catechumens (an old man) to go to Mecca, telling him that his reward in the other world will be great. This is what may be expected, but what I do not like in the matter is this: A man by the name of Awang Matjapar followed up the Datu's arguments, on his return to the boat, by saying that he would strongly recommend all Dyaks to turn Mohammedan, as he (Matjapar) has received a letter from his brother at Banjermassin to say that 2,000 Europeans have been cut off, and the work of putting an end to all the infidels by the sword was still going on; only those who will say, 'There is but one God, and Mahomet is his prophet,' are spared. It was insinuated that, Banjermassin being so near to Lundu, the best thing for the Dyaks would be to turn Mohammedans in time to prevent the sad alternative of being mercilessly butchered. This only shows what is going on in the Malay mind, and I think Mr. Matjapar, who is gone to Sarawak, ought to be seriously reprimanded for endeavouring to spread a panic among the Dyaks. No. 2. From Mr. Johnson. Kalong and the principal men of Lundu were with me last evening. I indirectly questioned them about Datu Hadji's proceedings, but I could not get further information than that they had heard that a boy named Lunsing had been told so by the Datu's people, and that the boy had reported it to Gomez, and I believe it to be true. The Malays will talk and exaggerate to the Dyaks, and this boy is half an idiot, but as long as the Malays talk so unguardedly there is not much fear of their doing much harm. The Orang Kaya told me, no Malay would dare talk to him in such a way. I will, however, keep an extra eye on the Datu, and he shall not go away from Sarawak in future. The Malays are jealous of our power with the Dyaks, and I have many times seen it and felt it, with even Abong Ain at Sakarang. Pray don't think from what I have said that there is not every reason for us to keep a judicious guard, but we cannot afford to show a want of confidence, and they do know themselves that, by cutting our throats, they would lose their all, and be butchered themselves in the end to a man. No. 3.-From Mr. Johnson. I have seen the Council, and they engage to see the Datu Hadji's relations to-morrow, and to sound them, as to whether they are ready to follow the instructions of Government or no. Provided they are ready and willing, they will convey the Datu Hadji to the 'Jolly Bachelor,' and she will proceed to Po, and await the coming of the brig; provided they are unwilling, the members of the Council will inform them that they must consider themselves as separated from the Government, and they must be answerable for themselves for the future. I can only say that the members of the Council are determined to do their duty and to stand by the Government, but, as it is to be settled one way or the other to-morrow, I think it perhaps would be as well if the ladies in your house were to go to the ship. We have a room for Bertha if she likes to come here. I told them positively he dies or leaves.' |