Here one can almost see the aged warrior,—for his incessant labour, and his malady which made it necessary for him to carry a surgical instrument with him for years, had at last weakened his wonderful vitality—like the venerable Apostle Paul whom he resembled in so many respects, at last saying: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course.” And the burden passes from his shoulders, not to those of one other, but to many others, as he cheerfully goes on to walk with God in that larger and fuller life. Let it be said to our shame that we, who were entrusted with that burden, have not discharged our trust as faithfully as it was our privilege to have done. Thus did the venerable Dr. Rand labour on incessantly day after day, a faithful representative of the meek and lowly Jesus. I might give you page after page from his Diary which records his heart-searching questionings, and his exuberant exclamations of joy over victories of which God alone knew the magnitude. Page after page might be transcribed until the volume would be as large as that which records the labours of David Brainerd, which this in character so much resembles; but my present purpose is accomplished; a glimpse has been given of Dr. Rand, the Micmac Missionary, at his life-work; and, _Kespeadooksit_,—the story is ended. It may be that at some future time a life of the remarkable man may be written, narrating in order all the incidents from his birth at Brooklyn Street, Cornwallis, N. S.; his lessons respecting truth and righteousness learned when ten years old at his grandmother Tupper’s knee; his experiences on the farm, at his trade, in school, and in the work of the pastorate; his unremitting toil as Missionary to the Micmacs; and all the rewards that came to him, encouraging him to press on in spite of every discouragement. Mention might here be made, however, of the letter from Gladstone, saying: “I at once admit that your version of the ‘Rock of Ages’ is more exact than mine;” and of his having received the degree of L.L.D. from Queen’s College, that of D.D. from Acadia, and that of D. C. L. from Kings,—fitting acknowledgments of his remarkable achievements and contributions towards the progress of mankind. But, come with me, and let us rest for a moment where I sat last June in the Cemetery at Hantsport. There stands a neat red granite monument, erected by his daughter, bearing this inscription: DR. RAND, MICMAC MISSIONARY, Fell asleep Oct. 4, 1890. Aged 80 years. “There shall I wear a starry crown And triumph in almighty grace, While all the armies of the skies Join in my glorious Leader’s praise.” MICMAC MISSION MICMAC MISSION. * * * * *