For some reason I could have wished that, someone else might have occupied my position today. I feel that my proper place would be among the mourners - but that is true of all who knew Dr. Thomas: we are all mourners here today. In some respects, I suppose, no one of my ministerial brethren is quite so well qualified to speak of his worth as I am; for while there are many who knew him for a longer period, no one else has had such opportunity as I have had to study the quality of his work, or to measure the extent of his influence.

There are some aspects of his character of which I cannot now trust myself to speak. Some of my brethren will scarcely understand me when I say, that I feel my own loss to be second only to that of his own sons. Only one other grave has taken from me more than that grave to which, alas!, we must go today.

I appreciate more than I can say the loving confidence, which committed the conduct of this service, in association with my Brother Ratcliff, to my hands. A bishop should be a lover of good men; I count it my greatest honor that such a man as Dr. Thomas should have admitted me to his confidence, and, I think I may venture to say, to his affections. And you will allow me, I feel sure, thus to feel my way to some place of standing from which to view so tender a subject; for this is one occasion when my words will be exempt from all critical judgment. We are all bereaved; we have suffered a loss, which is irreparable; and we feel it more deeply than any language can express. And what you desire today is that someone should try to give voice, however inadequately, to the love we all have borne this noble man of God; and endeavor to give some expression to the affectionate gratitude with which we shall ever cherish his memory.

And I begin by saying that God made B.D. Thomas a man before He made him a minister. That is His invariable rule. A man's usefulness in any walk of life depends on his character. Whether we will or will not, we all put something of ourselves into our work; so that the quality of a man's work is determined much less by his technical skill, than by the quality of his own soul. And in no calling in life is this more manifestly true than in the Christian ministry. A man without any deep moral purpose may enjoy great popularity for a little while; but a sustained ministry like that of Dr. Thomas, and an enduring monument of Christian affection such as he reared for himself, must be based upon a character of lasting qualities. Less than two weeks ago, we heard him say in Woodstock: "One quality essential to ministerial efficiency is volume of being. A man of narrow sympathies can never be a power in the pulpit. The preacher can better afford to be deficient in the head than in the heart." And no minister of our acquaintance has more perfectly exemplified that principal. Dr. Thomas was a big man who lived in a big world, and related himself sympathetically to all good things to be found in it. His great heart offered a generous hospitality to everything that was true, and honest, and just, and pure, and lovely, and of good report, and virtuous, and praiseworthy.

It Must be admitted that he was naturally endowed with unusual qualities. The sum of his physical, and mental, and moral attributes, which we vaguely call personality, was of no common order. Few men are blessed with so fine a physical presence as his; and yet, attractive as the physical tabernacle was, it never fully contained the great soul that dwelt within. When he entered a room everybody felt that someone had arrived; when he stood on the pulpit, the man in the back pew felt his presence. Who of us has not been touched by the warmth of his smile, and yielded to the magnetism of his personality?

And if time permitted an analysis of his character, many attractive natural qualities might be enumerated. It would appear that grace had less trouble to make a saint of Dr. Thomas than most of us. He was amiable, and patient, and self-controlled. It always seemed to me that his judgment of men and things was intuitive. He was almost as wise as Solomon in some things. He was marvelously tactful, and never more tactful than when, to undiscerning minds, he seemed almost to blunder. I have never known a man who made fewer serious mistakes. He was a man of extraordinarily fine sensibilities. He felt where other men reasoned, or tried to reason; he had the intuitions of a woman.

But I have said this only that I may show that these apparently natural graces of character were really morally based. The influence of Dr. Thomas' life upon others could never be accounted for on natural grounds. Could he speak today he would say to me, "If there be any good in me, you know to Whom and to Whose grace it must be credited." His amiability, his patience, his self-control, his power to make friends, his gentleness, his graciousness of spirit, his sympathy, his inspirational power, these were all made subservient to moral uses. His fine scorn of artificiality, his passionate love of truth, his perfect sincerity, in a word, his absolute genuineness, transmuted his natural graces into spiritual gems of enduring worth. His extraordinary charity - it became proverbial in Jarvis Street - "even Dr. Thomas' charity," I have heard one say, as though that were the very acme of charity which "believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things," - well, his charity was due to the ability to see the invisible of which he spoke in his recent address. May I not let him speak to you himself by quoting from that magnificent valedictory of less than two weeks ago? -

Dr. Thomas made his own atmosphere. Few men are strong enough to do that. But he was. Wherever he went, he created an atmosphere congenial to the culture of all Christian graces, but fatal to the flaunting of the works of the flesh. In his presence hatred, and variance, and wrath, and strife, and envying, withered for want of congenial air. He was a sweetening branch in every Marah, and as the vehement east wind to Jonah's gourd to every unworthy conception of life.

But with all his graciousness and gentleness of spirit, Dr. Thomas was a man of indomitable will. On one or two occasions, I have seen flashes of fire suggestive of Elijah. But his strength was like that of the rootlet of the oak, which, without noise, drops into the crevice of the rock, and by the silent and irresistible power of its own life splits the mighty rock asunder.

But how should we define the power of this man's life? It was Christ in him the hope of glory that within shone out through all the windows. No one would long discuss with him the question of the divine inspiration of the scripture - he was himself the proof of it. No one could imagine him having any doubt about the resurrection of Christ: he was himself an evidence of it. You could not think B.D. Thomas apart from Christ. No other adequate explanation of such a life can be found than that Christ had been formed in him. His Lord and he were inseparable.

Last week I was sitting beside the President of one of our Canadian clubs at dinner in a certain town, and he told me a story. He said that he had read of a certain Indian temple, in which as soon as one entered he detected a subtle aroma of entrancing sweetness. No one could tell exactly what it was, and whence it came. It pervaded the whole place. It was not obtrusive, and yet it could not be escaped. The most diligent search failed to discover its source. Yet the aromatic charm persisted through the years. And there was a tradition that when the temple was built the builders laid fragrant herbs between the stones or in other ways wrought some aromatic substance into the very fabric of the temple. It may be only a legend. But as we view the marvelously symmetrical and beautifully finished temple of this human life, do we not detect some subtle charm which we can scarcely define to ourselves? What was it that made this man so unlike other men? What gave him the key to all hearts, and made him the best-loved man in the denomination? I think I can tell you. He put Christ into all his thinking, and speaking, and doing. Christ was wrought into the very fabric of his life - and that which won all men to him was simply the sweet savour of Christ! The Saviour of sinners dwelt in him and, as in the ancient time, "He could not be hid."; and it was His gentleness that made B.D. Thomas great!

But making such a man, God made him a minister. It is possible to conceive of some men in many callings; but who could ever think of B.D. Thomas in any other character than that of a minister of the Lord Jesus Christ? He needed no distinctive dress. No dress could have disguised him: he was to the manner born.

As a preacher, Dr. Thomas had profound convictions. His trumpet never gave an uncertain sound. His faith was unwavering, and he considered it no part of a minister's business to unsettle the faith of others. In one of those rare flashes of righteous anger to which I have referred, I heard him say of ministerial purveyors of doubt: "What do these fools hope to accomplish by such preaching?" He was profoundly convinced of the divine inspiration and integrity of the Holy Scripture. His ministry always assumed its infallibility and supreme authority.

I need not say much of Dr. Thomas' preaching, because there are many here who sat under his ministry for years, while I was privileged to hear him on comparatively few occasions. Not everyone would be suited by his preaching. And that was not the fault of either the preacher or the hearer. Because there are many sorts of people, God has made many sorts of preachers, that all sorts of sinners may be saved. I gratefully acknowledge a great indebtedness to Dr. Thomas' ministry. I could never presume to even try to imitate him; but I never heard him without being lifted to the heavenly places. He was not, strictly speaking, a doctrinal preacher. His setting of truth was seldom presented in clearly defined doctrinal terms. But that was due to his type of mind and not his view of the truth. His was the mind of the poet and the seer. And if his printed sermons are analyzed, they will be found to be shot through with the doctrines of grace. The cross shines forth on every page. Man's sinful state, his absolute dependence upon sovereign grace, these things are always assumed.

But preaching is to be judged by its results. And by that standard, Dr. Thomas was a great preacher. He commanded the respect of men's intellects, and the allegiance of their hearts. And the seal of divine approval and blessing rested upon his ministry. Nothing that anyone could say could more easily set forth his own recent address from which I have already quoted.

But having succeeded him, after a short interval, in the pastorate of this church, I feel that I must pay some tribute to his great worth as a pastor. In many respects, he was greater as a pastor than as a preacher. By that, I do not mean to estimate his pastoral ministry by the number and frequency of his calls. That is an important element in pastoral work, but one, which even in is day, was found to be increasingly difficult to exercise in a large church. But one may be very busy in this respect and yet utterly fail to be a pastor. A true pastor is one to whom his people instinctively turn in trouble. He is one whose sympathy attracts the heavy-hearted. He is one whose presence is itself a comfort and a solace, and whose comradeship can always be relied upon. He is one, too, with whom men delight to share their joys as well as their sorrows, which they invite to their weddings, as well as to their funerals. And by this standard Dr. Thomas was and ideal pastor. Until the day that he was called home, he lived in the hearts of his people. And it has been my joy and pride, as his successor, to know that I could never take his place. That is a little house which has only one guest-chamber; and the great hearts that can make room for one man of God will be sure to find a little corner somewhere for another. The "little chamber on the wall," reserved to Elisha, made room in the little house at Shumen for another guest. It always does.

It does people good to be afforded an opportunity to live some one. It is good to be loved, but it is better to live. And Dr. Thomas loved people into living him; and they were enriched by their love of him, quite as much as by his love for them. In more than seven years among the people who knew him best, I have never heard one person utter one unkind word of Dr. Thomas. He was always "Dear Dr. Thomas" to us all.

It is sometimes assumed that it is hard for a pastor to be sympathetic towards his successor. I have never sympathized with the assumption, although it is one that is not infrequently entertained. I am proud to say that I never had a truer friend than Dr. Thomas. He was the best hearer I have ever known. His presence and the sight of his glowing, sympathetic countenance was always and inspiration. From the day of my first visit to Jarvis Street Church until al week ago yesterday morning his presence has always been a benediction to me. He loved Jarvis Street passionately, and rejoiced unspeakably in an evidence of her prosperity.

I wish I had time to speak of the breadth of his sympathies denominationally. He was interested in every phase of denominational work. While his health permitted, he took a most active interest in our Home Mission work. The wide and general sympathies of this church are due in to small measure to his influence. Our Educational Institutions, our Foreign Mission enterprise, our Publication work, all were dear to him. And his brother ministers had a large place in his heart. We all remember how some years ago when the President introduced him to the Convention at Ottawa as "the best-loved Baptist minister in Canada," the delegates literally sprang to their feet with rousing cheers in response. And he held that place without a rival to the last.

But while true to his own convictions as a Baptist always, Dr. Thomas was a lover of all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth. The great work of the Bible Society was especially dear to him; and the presence here today of official representatives of that great Society is recognition of the worth of his influence to its important work. He was a man of God, and his interests and affections were as wide as the Kingdom of God.

Dr. Thomas was one of the Lord's peculiarly favored children. I have heard him say often how wonderfully he had been shielded from the difficulties and distresses to which many of his ministerial brethren were exposed. But may it not be that some of us make many of our difficulties for ourselves? I have heard of one, a member of this church, years since gone to glory, whom "the Doctor" had in some way offended, and who confidentially informed a friend that he was going up to see the pastor one evening " to have it out with him." And he went. Some time later his friend asked him how he got along, and he replied: "Oh, he won, as usual. When I went in he gripped me by the hand and said, 'Come in brother.' And all the fight was taken out of me. You can't fight with that man.

I have heard of another who said that occasionally when he himself was out of sorts the sermon might fail to interest him, but when "the Doctor" has gripped him by the hand, or put his arm about his shoulders, and he had felt the warmth of his sunny spirit, invariably he went home saying to himself, "There is no other preacher like him anywhere." And who knows? Perhaps if some of us had Dr. Thomas' beautiful spirit we might enjoy something of his immunity from many pastoral troubles. But our gracious Lord must have so ordered his life because He knew that B. D. Thomas needed fewer thorns than most men to keep him humble. Mr. Spurgeon is said to have once playfully remarked to his wife: "I think, my dear, you are one of the Lord's spoiled children - you get whatever you ask for." It was, of course, only a pleasantry, for God's good grace never spoils anyone. And God's abounding grace to B. D. Thomas did not spoil him!

For the last few years he had preached but little, I feared to have him attempt the Presidential Address of the Convention this year, and had spoken of trying to dissuade him from attempting it. I am glad now that I did not. How all his brethren rejoiced to see him on the platform, and to hear his rich and gracious message on that evening of October 17th! Everybody wanted him to do. And while he was relieved of the onerous duty of presiding over the sessions of the convention by his able deputy, the Rev. J.J. Ross, his presence on the platform and among his brethren was a joy to everybody. And Saturday he said good-bye to the Convention. Sunday morning he was in Jarvis Street Church. He told me on the Friday, with great glee, that he was going to surprise his daughter. And he sat before me that morning with beaming countenance. He was as full of inspiration to the preacher as any ordinary congregation of a thousand I have ever seen. My text was, "How excellent is Thy loving kindness, O God! Therefore, the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Thy wings." The sermon was simple and ordinary, but tears streamed down his cheeks as he listened, and his face was radiant with the joy of the Lord, I called on him for the benediction, and he stood before the congregation and said, "O Lord, may we all abide under the shadow of Thy wings! May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost be with you all, Amen." Thus in the church which he loved better than any place on earth, among the people to whom his heart had long ago been given, and with whom he had exercised for more than twenty years, his most gracious ministry, his last public word was uttered in benediction! In the evening he heard his son, the Rev. Llewellyn Thomas, preach; and on the Monday, with his wife and his children and grandchildren about him, he rejoiced in a family luncheon party. Then he returned to his home in Grimsby, and there the reaction set his own generation by the will of God, he fell asleep. He had been a young man again for just a week on earth, before entering upon his larger ministry in the land of perpetual youth. He had been in retirement long enough, and the Lord has called him to al higher ministry. Like the elders at Miletus, when the great Apostle had bidden them farewell, we sorrow most of all for this, that we shall see his face no more. And we can understand something of Elisha's loneliness when he gazed up the shining track of the chariot of fire, which carried Elijah home, and cried, "My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!" O, that the mantle of his gracious, and beautiful, and Christ like, spirit might fall upon us all, and that our last end might be like his!