Thornhill, Nov. 8, 1832.
I have for the last two or three weeks been expecting another letter from Locking, and supposing that it would contain various things which I should like to touch upon in reply; but, as the roads keep me at home for a day or two, I am unwilling to let this state of leisure pass by. Yesterday, I returned from York, having been conveyed there and back by the kindness of a lady in this place, the weather just held up for the time. Had we been a day later it would have been terrific work, but I live in hopes his Excellency the Governor will mend the great north road on which Thornhill stands. Sir John has commenced operations both in the town and neighbourhood of York, and his success there encourages hope in this, though the sum to be raised for the purpose is £20,000. My reception among the great in York was gratifying—the condescension and kindness of all parties quite surprises me. My abode was at the hospitable bishop’s, who in this, as well as in all other respects, is a truly Christian bishop: he pressed me to lengthen my stay, and was almost hurt that I did not comply. His chaplain is a true Christian, and of very pleasing manners. When he found that Arthur was residing in York, he offered me his kind attentions on his behalf, and before I left he mentioned him also to the bishop. I was much struck with the pious solemnity with which he put the licence for Thornhill into my hands; it seemed a real committal of souls to my charge, so different from the matter-of-course transactions which I had in all other instances witnessed. Sir John’s party I joined in the evening, dinner six o’clock, not much in this respect to my liking; but everything else connected with the visit most agreeable. He has received permission from Lord Goodrich to proceed with the projected plans for settling the clergy, and he tells me he will make the commencing trial with myself. When it is more fully and definitely known to me, I will report to you; but what I gather at present is, that he will give me as incumbent 300 acres of land, forty of which shall be cleared at his expense, and a suitable house erected; and he thinks all can be done with ease for your reception, on or about the 10th of June. He does not promise me a salary, but, till this be accomplished, the bishop will try to give me at the rate of £100 per annum. He however cannot engage. The people promise me £50 per annum: they are very kind to me, and show me the greatest attention. The congregation increases, and though I am not forward to speak upon such subjects, I do feel that the situation is important, and the Lord has much work for me in this place. My heart also is in some measure in my work; I feel it blessed; its former anxieties and oppressiveness are astonishingly removed, and thus the Lord has at length granted unto me what I almost regarded as impossible; so that the anticipated wilderness has been made to smile and blossom as the rose—the peace and blessedness within having shed its transforming influence all around. I had often read the 45th of the Madeley Hymns in reference to the future, but I little thought how completely it would be realized. The hymn begins with, “That man no guard or weapon needs,” and the last three verses you will perhaps excuse my transcribing—
“His love possessing I am blest,
Secure whatever things may come;
Whether I go to east or west,
With him I shall be still at home.If placed beneath the northern pole,
Though winter reigns with rigour there;
His gracious beams would cheer my soul
And make a spring throughout the year.Or if the desert’s sun-burnt soil
My lonely dwelling ere should prove,
His presence would support my toil,
Whose smile is life, whose name is love.”
Many of the Irish Protestant clergy are coming out in the spring, with large quotas of their flocks, driven out as they are by the violence of those who refuse to pay the church tithes. I met one of this description the other evening at the bishop’s, a warm-hearted and spiritually minded Irishman; his details were most affecting, but highly interesting, and I thought I could see a striking providence in their being thus compelled to flee at this present time to a country where they were so particularly needed, and where their own temporal comforts would be so materially increased. The good bishop quite rejoiced over his anticipated treasure.
TO MRS. MORTIMER.
Thornhill, January 18, 1833.
* * * The delight of a warm bed the Canadian can fully appreciate. The other morning the thermometer stood 18° below zero, or 50° below freezing point, and during last night I conceive it must have been much lower: it is now near the middle of the day, and the glass is only 1° above zero, and yet, difficult as you may feel it to credit me, it seems to me a mere nothing. I can hardly imagine that I am in the midst of a Canadian winter, that horrible and terrible of previous anticipation: the fact is, that the severe weather only lasts for two or three days at a time, which is far different from a continuous season of four or five months, and though sharp and searching in itself, yet fire, clothing, and due attention, bring all to a common English temperature; and then the air is so cheering and bracing that you smile cheerily, rather than feel oppressively. But, in reality, I can hardly proceed in my description, not for want of words but of ink; for it not only freezes in the ink glass while on the table, but after I place it on the hearth and thaw it, the pen-full freezes while I am writing; so that I am obliged to stop ever and anon to thaw it in the pen, and yet with this acme of congelating miseries, I smile and laugh and go battling on; but all this sounds worse than it really is, so do not be alarmed.
ON EMIGRATION.
TO MRS. MORTIMER.
I feel somewhat puzzled as to what I ought to say with regard to emigration. As to agriculture, employment can easily be procured in the upper province, and the wages are good; but the state of destitution in which some of the families arrive is very distressing, and keeps them back for a considerable time. I cannot recommend any family to come out unless they have £9 a head for each individual. It happened to one young man who had paid £1. 15s. for his passage to Quebec, and yet with one and another charge he had only a few shillings left out of £12. At Kingston I heard of a family of emigrants whose baggage was sold by auction to enable them to find the money to proceed to the agricultural districts. If emigrants can proceed with their baggage, and a few shillings in their pockets, they soon feel thankful for their altered circumstances. As to the two men and their families, I must leave it to your decision, and to influence them as you judge best. If they come, it should be as early as possible: leave England in February and get to Quebec in March.