It was April and springtime examinations were approaching, so that I judged it expedient to take a two weeks holiday to recruit my strength after the arduous work of winter, and also to have time for review of studies, and for these purposes I returned to my city home.
Here I was introduced to a young man who had recently arrived from London. I learned his purpose in coming to Canada was to become a farmer. Like ancient Saul he was fair to look upon and of such a height as to make him outstanding in a crowd, in fact he had been a proper candidate for a military position in London, but had failed to eat sufficient dinner and was therefore two ounces too light in weight. He was nineteen years of age, the son of a schoolmaster, had himself been assistant in school teaching, was a Queens Scholar of London University, a boatman and swimmer, a Christian and very vivacious. I gathered this information as I spent my first evening with him playing a game of chess. It had been a cause of pride in my school days in England that I had beaten Master Hughes in a game of chess, and he ever afterward had an excuse for not playing me another game, and all through the years in Canada I had seen no one who could talk chess; now I had met one of my countrymen who had a heart for any fate, and we battled away until near midnight. I was delighted with the struggle of wits, but he won the game. I decided that my newly found friend who was slim enough in body to hide behind a maple tree, and too tall to cultivate backache by weeding turnips, was not a fit subject for a farm. So I advised him to take time to read Canadian newspapers and become acquainted with the country before he committed himself definitely to a course, and in the meantime he might visit me and see for himself what pioneering farm life was like, but I thought that a year at school teaching would be most beneficial. He accepted my invitation, and we sent him by a roundabout tour which gave him a view of many miles of country, part of it through a forest, of which he reported that he walked for fourteen miles without seeing a human being or creature of any kind, and the journey engaged him for several days.
It was Sunday afternoon as I arrived in my village for afternoon service that I found my visitor occupying my room and awaiting my arrival. He was flushed with excitement at the thought of what he had come through, and he was eager to tell me all, but that had to suffer postponement, and when after service I listened to his dramatic recitals, I could not but laugh heartily, and especially as I fancied I saw the breaking down of dreams of Canadian farm life.
For the time being, we must conduct church service, and I proposed to him that after the hymn he should lead in prayer and then read the Scripture lessons. "I will offer prayer if you will allow me to read from the Prayer Book" he said. But I had to decline this proposal, because while I had in my congregation persons who had all their life been familiar with the prayer book, and would gladly again listen to its balanced and beautiful sentences, there were those Canadian-born who had probably never heard prayers read in their Methodist church, and would think that such reading was no prayer at all. Under the circumstances he decided to limit himself to the reading of the lessons. On our return to my room he spoke freely of his pleasure from the service and of his great surprise at the appearance and manners of the congregation, sufficient to make one think that he was in fashionable quarters in London. My evening engagement was seven miles out, and we two attempted to cover the distance by means of my "sulky" which as I have already described had a seat only intended for one person. I proposed to overcome the difficulty and be a generous host to my guest by walking most of the way myself, and allowing him the privilege of riding in such a vehicle as he had never before seen. We both slept well that night.
Monday was to be a great day for us. I felt free for such a day, as it was Monday and therefore my lawful day off. I began by taking my friend to the "public" buildings, which were the town hall and the schoolhouse. I had a peculiar pleasure in introducing him to the school teacher, whose training had been in city methods, and thus allowing him to see a fair sample of the Canadian school. After this I piloted him around to post office and shops.
Then came a delightful temptation -- I would give him a ride on our glorious York River. Being springtime and the river broad, the "boom-sticks" consisting of lengths of trees twelve feet long, securely chained to each other in one long line, laid down the middle of the deep and fast-flowing stream and held in place by means of heavy guy ropes tied to the timbers, the landward end being fastened to stakes driven deeply into the soil, were already forming an inside channel, down which from lakes far north came swiftly moving saw logs on their way to the Madawaska and Ottawa rivers and the great lumber and paper mills at the Chaudiere Falls between Hull and Ottawa. Between the booms and the shore side on which we stood was a wide and calm body of water which promised fair for a boat ride. We found a "punt", that is a boat made of boards, having a flat bottom, and either end capable of being front or aft, a boat that under ordinary circumstances would be difficult to overturn. There were no oars in the boat, so finding some pieces of boards we used our pocket knives to whittle out paddles. Then, as all was ready, we launched the craft and jumped aboard. I am not sure that either of us knew much about being either captain or pilot. We had started our course on the upper side of the boom rope, a fact I had omitted noticing, and as the current was coming down against us, our boat was driven over towards the boom-sticks, while as we were caught sidewise, we were also driven against the rope. The rope would seem to find our heads in the way, so to stay its interference I bore down on it with my hand, and I did not think that, while the rope might stop me, it could not stop our boat against the side of which the current was strongly pressing.
At that juncture, I was surprised at seeing my friend roll over into the water. I expected to see him come to the surface quickly, and I resolved to maintain composure and assist him aboard, but in a moment I found myself rolled to the side of the boat, and then into the water. I had passed under the rope. I gripped the upper edge of the boat which responded to my pull and came down, leaving the boat bottom upwards; on this as a resting stage, I placed my arms and went sailing downstream towards the open dam, where the waters fell down rocks twelve feet below, and where I might have met instant death. My course in that direction was stopped by a jam of logs, and my cries for help brought rescuers. Meantime my friend had gripped the rope upstream and thus propelled himself to land. Certainly the "joke" was on us that day, and some of my parishioners laughingly suggested an ecclesiastical trial for their minister for introducing an immersionist denomination to the town. My first concern for my friend was to dress him, and the only available garments were my own, which belonging to a man five feet eight, and rounded in proportion, when placed on a slim man over six feet in height presented a very amusing sight.
On the evening of this day I had a regular preaching service ten miles distant, and as there was no way of communication by which that engagement could be cancelled, no inconvenience could be allowed to prevent me from going there; moreover my friend, in spite of his poor fitting regimentals was desirous of seeing the people. I had but one conveyance, but somehow we two managed to sit on that one little seat, I managing on a corner.
I am now recording this occasion to show how I was used in permanently turning the steps of my friend away from an isolated life on the farm. Our road on this occasion for the most part was barely wide enough for one conveyance, and it lay between bushes, logs, and stumps. Fortunately we met no traveller in an opposite direction. We were descending a hill about a mile from our destination, when a turning point in a young man's life seemed to have been born. The road was made of corduroy, that is the steep descent of rock was graduated by timbers of small size laid crosswise, with some thickness of earth laid on to fill the spaces between the wood. But the spring freshets had come, and water was flowing downhill rapidly, and it was at one turn in our descent that we met with our trial; the root of a big stump had been washed bare on the upper end of a log, and at the lower all soil had been washed away, and a rut had been worn into the wood. One wheel took a thump against the stump, and this jolted the other wheel into the rut, the effect being that our carriage was thrown out of balance; my friend was sent flying into the muddy swamp below the hill, and I received a nasty blow on the side of my face from the corduroy upon which I struck. My face became rapidly swollen and it was soon apparent that it would be impossible for me to preach that evening. I therefore laid the duty upon the conscience of my friend. He of course protested. How could he do such a thing? He had never in his life. Upon further thought he proposed that under the circumstances he would make an effort, "and if you will say the long prayer I will read the hymns and lessons, give the address, and say the short prayer". So it was agreed.
And my friend did well with his text taken from Jeremiah:- "Jonadab the son of Rechab shall not want a man to stand before me forever". It was the "short" prayer that made the revelation. My friend had never attempted an extemporaneous prayer in public, and now after two short sentences he came to a stop with some evidence of confusion. There was a reverent silence. When he again began it was apparent that God was helping him, and he had passed a crisis that meant much to his future.
On our return to the village next day, he prepared to leave me, but he accepted my advice to take up school-teaching, and he took from me a note of introduction to the School Inspector for the district. At the end of the week he returned with a commission to a school far beyond my boundaries, where he found also opportunity for usefulness on Sunday, going among settlements, reading prayers and sermons which he had brought with him from London. He secured Licence from the Bishop of Toronto. At the end of a year of teaching he announced to me with much enthusiasm his reception to college in Toronto. Then war broke out in the Canadian Northwest, and one day I received a note which read:- "Goodbye, old boy. The Bishop has ordained me Chaplain; I'm off."
Many years passed, and my friend had wanderings and changes, and at times I lost sight and sound of him. Then came a day when a great colony was emigrating, and once more I saw his name in the limelight. Then followed the organisation in the western province of church work among new settlers. One day on a visit to England, mutual friends told me of his election as a Bishop. The years have passed since then, and the Bishop's work has been completed and he has retired. He has cultivated human lives instead of the soil on which they lived. And I am rejoicing that under the guidance of God I had a little to do in the making of a Bishop.
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