Springtime examinations were passed, and the District Meeting expressed approval of the work done during the year. Some weeks elapsed before the assembling of the Annual Conference, which this year took place in Toronto. Toronto had a reputation as a city of churches, and the Metropolitan Church built during the superintendency of Dr Morley Punshon, was an outstanding church. I had never been in Toronto, and I had no particular right or call to be there at such a time; I was but a "probationer" on trial for the ministry, and I did not know whether or not I would be admitted to the Conference Church. However in my backwoods home I thought over the matter and decided that as I wished to know all I could learn about the organisation of which I hoped to become a member I would find the means and make my way to the "Queen City".
The night of my arrival there proved to be somewhat of a sorry one, because a friend in the home city had given me the address where I should find comfortable lodgings, but he had given me the wrong address, and thus it was that I walked Toronto's streets until one o'clock in the morning, calling at various points that might be suggested, even finding my way into a physician's luxurious home, and finally betaking myself to a well-known hotel at the point at which I had entered the city.
I found no objection to my entrance into the church when I arrived there the next morning, and in the presence of the august assembly I found a seat in the rear of the church, overshadowed by the galleries. I had not long to sit there until I was recognised by ministers from the District to which I belonged, and by them I was made to feel at home, receiving such a hearty welcome that I knew I had done no wrong in taking it upon me to venture on this attendance. Indeed I was persuaded that in this matter also God had prompted and led me.
First of all I was interested in the men -- all of them ministers, who composed the assembly. I wanted to know men; I was launching into a world, and I wanted to know what sort of a world it was, and how to play my chess games in it. There was one minister who was elected to be President, and in thanking the Conference for the honor thus bestowed, he referred to the surprises of life, and then he eloquently quoted from Campbell:- "'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before". There was general laughter in the Conference, and one sitting near to me and who belonged to Toronto, whispered "He had it all arranged beforehand." He did look somewhat grey that day, but he was still a very active Conference official twenty-two years after. I suppose that it was but a bit of professional by-play that he should suggest surprise at his election, but my young mind was somewhat disturbed by what appeared to me to be a lack of absolute rectitude. I tried to take to mind all that I could of rules of order, and committee reports, but what I was most wanting, and much missed, were great soul-stirring addresses on religious themes and Christian work.
One morning, I had been listening to many things, and receiving greetings from those who had been formerly my pastors, when I noticed from my under-gallery seat that Dr Wellington Jeffers stood on the floor of Conference confronting the assembly. It was close to the dinner hour, and even ministers are not heedless of the call of the stomach. Dr J. was noted as an astute ecclesiastical politician. If he had a difficult proposition to present he invariably chose the moment when the "Brethren" were impatient to get away to lunch, and when they would quickly cry "Vote". He was also known for his determination to put through whatever he undertook. This morning, it was the dinner hour, and the face of the speaker indicated a sternness and a seriousness that warned everyone that it would be useless to try to turn down any proposition which he had to make.
I admired the Doctor's fighting qualities. He contended earnestly for the faith. I have heard him in church when announcing a hymn, and as was his custom undertaking to read through the stanza, and when only two lines had been read, an inattentive, or foolish, organist would break in and go off playing the tune; the Doctor simply strengthened his voice and continued his reading to the end; then the organist had to begin over again, and one such lesson in the sight of the congregation was enough for him. I have heard this Doctor of Divinity reprove a loquacious brother in a ministerial meeting with a very emphatic declaration:- "I am amazed at you. Materialism has been the bane of Christianity".
On this particular Conference morning, I listened carefully, wondering what my District Chairman had in mind. I was presently startled, for I heard him mentioning my name. I turned to a Conference member sitting near me and asked him what it was about. He seemed to be almost coldly indifferent, but he volunteered the information that the Doctor was sponsoring the need of the north country, and proposing that I should be ordained for "special purposes". I had not the remotest idea of what that meant. I asked my informant for some explanation, and when I learned what was involved I feared lest the duties might be much too great for me. It was pointed out to me that it might involve the church in using my services and preventing that attendance at college which I had planned, and I at once stipulated that it must not do that, nevertheless as I had promised God to be always ready, I could not refuse to yield to any service which might be required of me.
The summer was drawing into autumn when I received a letter calling me once more to Toronto for ordination, by the President of the Conference. Such an occasion required that I should lay in a supply of such things as would be necessary in the execution of my new duties, such as a liturgy, a diary and a book of marriage certificates.
Once more at home, I soon found how peculiar were my circumstances, and I think I began to question whether God ruled the Stationing Committee, or did the Stationing Committee try to anticipate God. I was moved from my parish of nine townships to a more thickly populated one of four townships. This field was immediately adjacent to my first field, and my instructions were to administer the ordinances on both fields at least once every three months. The peculiarity in the situation arose from the fact that I took the place of a man ten years my senior, full whiskered, and as yet unordained, while he was sent to my former field, where I must administer for him. Greater than the age difficulty was the circumstance that he had made himself very popular among the people, had become engaged to marry one of their young women, and the people thinking to help on a beautiful love story had petitioned the Conference to ordain this senior young man and return him for a second year. Instead of doing that, the Powers arranged that we two men should exchange places, and I should be selected for ordination. My difficulties were not at all lessened when I found that the only available boarding place for me was the home of my colleague's young lady.
It proved to be a most interesting year, even though somewhat arduous. I administered the sacraments of Baptism and the Lord's Supper in many places and under a variety of conditions. I had the superintendency of thirteen townships. And I had the year's course of study to prepare. I had no time for play.
"I wish you would baptise my children next time you come to our settlement" was the request a mother made of me one Saturday morning as I went the rounds of homes in preparation for Sunday services. "In two weeks time I said," and true to my promise I arrived. The home consisted of one room, a "shanty", that is a building of small dimensions with the roof sloping one way. As I made ready, the mother called on her various offspring who assembled from somewhere out of doors, until she had eight lusty ones standing in line. It was the first time that the ordinance had been made available.
One evening I had a congregational service up among the hills, with fifty people in attendance, and after the hour of worship I was requested to administer baptism; twenty-five received the ordinance. Then I was entreated not to be in a hurry -- a young man seeing the opportunity, had gone to the issuer of marriage licences, five miles away, there and return, while I was engaged, and thus the ceremony was performed that evening.
Meeting the requirements of my diocese and giving the people service which they had not been able to receive, called for one hundred and twenty baptisms, and twelve marriages, besides other functions. Usually the applicants for marriage were obliged to travel thirty to forty-five miles to find the issuer of marriage licenses.
There was much excitement in the bush country one day; the village store, the post office, the blacksmith shop and the grist mill were all agog, for men had been seen with measuring line, mallets and stakes, and there actually, in an unfrequented line, up hillsides, and through cedar swamps, and across frozen streams, could be seen the evidences of their presence, a lane-way of lines. There was to be a railway. But how over such bogs and among such mountains? I doubted the feasibility, yet I was glad to see men try their cleverness.
How I hunted out their camps! How I gathered rolls of literature among my friends "at the Front"! How diligently my trips on Saturday to be at my points for Sunday services were made visiting and distributing occasions, and paymasters and camp clerks were dragooned into being agents for the Missionary, and many a one of them with a twinkle of his eye related to his colleagues along the line, and when he returned to civilisation, the honorable position into which the Missionary had put him. These navvies' camps could not be allowed to interfere with my regular work, so I found myself under the necessity of taking evening or noonday services among the road builders.
And not always was the Irish cook in sympathy with me, but he continued his dishwashing and pan-rattling while I preached or prayed. In one of my sermons I asked why it was that wicked people were so often prosperous, and the righteous people had such unpleasant times, and a man stretched on the floor in front of me, who had been very responsive during prayer and singing after a Methodist fashion, but prompted by another spirit, shouted:- "Because they can't help themselves". Two years afterward, in a far away village, I learned that from that night in the camp he had ceased his drinking habits.
"Do you know the Lord Jesus Christ while you are giving away these Papers?" asked one camp cook, and I stayed for more gold-digging.
With what interest I watched tree-felling, rock-blasting, pile-driving, bridge-building, swamp-filling, and the engineer's deftly ways of winding about among the rocks and leading on his fantastic road, like Tennyson's river, among Mounts Inkerman, and Balaclava!
Was it to be wondered at, then, that I took with alarm any enemy encroachments upon my new Eden? Where the rails crossed the public road at a given point there stood a schoolhouse that would be well filled with a company of twenty-five; here a railway station would be built, and here a servant of Satan designed to coin money by selling intoxicating drink. It was a prohibition country and no saloons were in existence anywhere along the line of the bush-country railroad. When the news came to me, I resolved on steps to stop it. Accordingly I drew up a petition to be presented to County authorities, praying that no licence be granted, and this petition I read to my three congregations on Sunday, including the one where it was proposed to make the invasion, and I invited signatures. In each place I secured a hundred per cent response, including the son of the prospective drink seller. My last appeal was made in one of the large boarding houses where I had an after-meeting gathering with the navvies. Here I found Mr Danny, one of the owners of the road, and I invited his signature. "Yes, Sir", he said. "I will sign it with all the emphasis I can give it, for myself and the company. And what is more, I am going up that way tomorrow, and I will call on this man and tell him that if we cannot get rid of him any other way we will put a keg of our blasting powder under his house". That saloon was never opened in my day.
What a place is a lumber camp, or at least what a place it used to be fifty years ago. I am afraid the glory is somewhat departed from it since the days of The Sky Pilot and The Glengarry School Days. Modern bills of fare, with comfortable beds, and Forty Dollars a month wages have tended to reduce heroism and an esprit-de-corps which once made the lumber jacks and river drivers a notorious company -- vociferous, and feared in many a frontier town, but hardy and venturesome, uncomplaining, and happy in their lot. In my days the lumber jack counted himself a favoured man when he could get board and lodging and healthy work for the winter, and fifteen dollars a month put to his credit, his team of horses, which would have eaten his resources in vain if staying at home all winter, also found good oats and hay and brought him additional money.
In those days, the camp and its equipment suggested the temporary nature of the work. It was a good-sized square building put up with undressed logs of wood; it had no chimney, the fire was made in the middle of the earthen floor, and the smoke ascended through a hole in the roof, to find its freedom in the forest. The cooking utensils were "coolers" or huge iron kettles that hung from iron hooks on heavy cross poles, and in these kettles were cooked beans (the staple article of diet) with great pieces of fat pork which the men seemed to especially relish, or in another kettle were boiled potatoes, and in another was made the tea (I do not know whether it was black, brown, or green, but I do know by one taste that it seemed to have an edge to it that would cut the throat.)
At feeding time, each man stepped to the cook's counter, received a plate, cup (there was no room for saucers), and a large piece of bread and butter, then he helped himself, according to his appetite, at the kettles and sat down on the bench that bordered the bunks in the room and proceeded to eat. I am safe in saying that if any man had had any snobbery in his make-up this camp life would have been no place for him, for here there was communism without the label, and here they had all things in common. One man's bed was as good as the other's. As I visited railroad camps, so I also found my way along the lumber roads, over lakes and creeks, (often with water a foot deep), and by the narrow road leading through the forests. It was worthwhile to feel that one was doing the heroic, and that was the main satisfaction, for there were no collections taken on these visits; I was serving the country.
And what a field I had for developing my interest in geology and mineralogy! Among these mighty Laurentian hills, I had ample illustrations of rocks that had once been in a molten state, and that had been pressed up to the earth's surface by serial cross currents and strains, and who knows but what the moon had something to do with it? There were specimens of coarse-grained granite which had been burst open like a rubber ball which has been pressed too hard on opposite sides, and being thrown into the air has cooled so rapidly that the grain has been rendered cold, and there were to be found fine grained samples of the rock which had cooled slowly. Among these granites (I heard one prosaic preacher wonder what good these hills were) I found many utilities -- there was corundum in Carlow, feldspar in Monteagle, beautiful marble in Faraday, quartz calcite and galena in Tudor, magnetic iron in Wollaston and Limerick, and to the south of these, in the "foothills" of the Laurentians, there is hematite iron in Madoc and gold in Marmora; in fact the county of Hastings is a paradise of mineral wealth, awaiting the day when Canadian industry shall be in the hands of a hundred millions of people instead of ten millions.
I counted myself privileged to be a Christian worker among such varieties of people, under such conditions, with such liberties as prompted me to go far afield, and with such responsibilities to God and the Church as required constant watchfulness and prayer.
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