THE CURE OF SOULS.
With the new Church now almost ready the pastor settled down to regular work. His parish proper was his kingdom. He regarded every parishioner as worthy of his attention and most anxious thought. Years after it was a well-known sight to behold the faithful pastor, staff in hand, a gray checked plaid thrown over one shoulder, and with light moccasined feet tripping along the banks of Red River on his errand of mercy. On account of the settlement of Red River, being like that of the French Canadians along the St. Lawrence, his parish was an example of length without breadth. The Kildonan houses were in two rows, facing each other from each side of the river, and made a continuous village along each bank. The writer has heard the announcement from Kildonan pulpit that the pastor, during the coming week, would visit from the house of Mr. Donald Matheson to that of Mr. Samuel Matheson. On another occasion from Mr. Harper's to Mr. Gunn's, and the like. These visits were very thorough. All the children expected the minister; all the housewives had their houses swept and garnished; even the men, on the day of the expected visit, laid aside their working garb, and the godly pastor emulated, in many ways, Goldsmith's "village preacher." As everyone knows, every preacher has not the faculty of successful visitation of the sick. This was, however, an especially strong feature of the Kildonan pastor. His sympathy, deep feeling, and wise regard for the condition of the invalid, are spoken of to this day. In cases of severe illness his visits were daily and unremitting.
"In his duty prompt at every call
He watched, wept, prayed, and felt for all."