‘Then I gave my instructions, assured that, as far as possible, they would be attended to. And so the hours passed by. At four o’clock I had a very solemn service; two gentlemen, one more than seventy years of age, and the other in middle life, both from far in the interior of the country, knelt together for the first time in their lives at the Lord’s table; the elder had not seen a clergyman for upwards of a quarter of a century. At six o’clock it is ding-dong, ding-dong, again, and again the voice of praise is raised, prayer offered, the Bible read and explained, and the congregation then separated to their fragile and temporary dwellings. Yet once more the bell calls to prayer; the master, the gentlemen from the interior, the servants, their wives and children obey the summons, and I hold an English service, enjoyable and enjoyed. At its termination I take a short walk, reflecting on the day’s events, offering up a silent prayer that God would vouchsafe His blessing thereon abundantly.’
CHAPTER X
THE BISHOPRIC OF MOOSONEE
The summer of 1872 passed. On September 13 of that year Mr. Horden wrote to the present writer: ‘Your much prized letter reached me a day or two before I set out on one of my longest and most trying journeys, from which I have but just returned. I took your letter with me, and indulged myself with an occasional perusal of it; it has been to many of the posts of the country, has journeyed over some of our terrible portages, and has sailed over many a lake through the “forgotten land,” as it may well be called, for it is waiting, and will long wait, to be taken possession of. The Indians cannot be said to hold possession, they are so few in number, and the country is so vast, that one unacquainted with it can have no conception of its extent. Fancy travelling a whole fortnight, and during that time not seeing one hundred persons. A feeling of great sadness sometimes crept over me as my solitary canoe glided over the bosom of some beautiful sea-like lake; myself and canoe-men were alone in the wilderness. I shall (D.V.) write you again in February, when I hope to send you as usual a “little budget.”’
Little did the hero of our history imagine when he wrote those last lines that a new era was even then about to open in his eventful life. Our readers, who have thus far followed his steps with interest, will learn, we feel assured, with heartfelt sympathy, that the well-tried and devoted missionary, the faithful friend and pastor of his flock during so many years, was now to become the missionary bishop of the newly-formed diocese of Moosonee, formerly a portion of the enormous diocese of Rupertsland. At short notice he started for England, leaving wife and children at Moose, for he was not to be long absent. He was consecrated at Westminster Abbey on December 15, 1872.
In the few short months which he spent at home the new bishop pleaded hard, and not without response, for assistance to carry out his plans for advancing and consolidating his former work in what was henceforth to be his diocese, stretching 1,500 miles from east to west and north to south, inhabited by Crees, Ojibbeways and Eskimo, together with some Europeans and half-castes. As a missionary he had the joy of witnessing the conversion of the greater part of those children of the wilderness, and now, as a missionary bishop, his heart was set on the raising up of a native ministry, supported as far as possible by native resources.
In this some progress had already been made. His plan was to divide the diocese into five districts, each of them superintended by a fully qualified pastor, who would be assisted by two or three other Indian clergymen, whose training would be confined to a thorough knowledge of their Bibles and Prayer-books in their own language. These men would accompany the members of their own tribes to their hunting-grounds, and as they would be able in a great measure to support themselves, they would require but a comparatively small allowance for their maintenance. This was his purpose, and what he purposed he had with the Divine assistance, which he ever sought, never yet failed to carry out.
All praise to Thee, my Father and my God.
Thus far Thy love has brought me on life’s road;