What Norman Saw in the West

by Julia M. Olin

“Just think of the things here promised, a home, a place in God’s house, a position better than that even of sons and daughters, and a name never to be forgotten. What a reward for the faithful and joyful keeping of the Sabbath, in itself a happiness. But, Norman, read the seventh verse of the same chapter, (Isaiah lvi,) and you will find more blessings promised.”

Norman found the place and read:

“Even them will I bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer: their burnt-offerings and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon mine altar.”

In the morning Norman and his mother, accompanied by Mr. Campbell, went to the cathedral. It is a large handsome new church, and the grassy turf around it, shaded by fine trees, gave a very pleasant aspect to the entrance. As they stood near the door awaiting the pew-opener to show them to seats, a lady in a large square pew in the corner invited them in. It was very warm; the pew was under the gallery and closely curtained, and the words of the unseen minister, as he began the service, were inaudible. Mrs. Lester whispered to Mr. Campbell, “Had we not better go somewhere where we can see and hear?”

With words of apology to the lady who had kindly offered them seats, they left the pew, and were shown to another in the nave, the body of the church. It was a new thing for Norman to hear prayers for Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort, and all the royal family, instead of the President of the United States.

Another thing showed him that he was in a foreign country. On the front of the gallery, just above him, were a gilt lion and unicorn, with a crown above them. The royal arms of England were in front of the pew of Sir Edmund Head, the Governor General of Canada. The sermon was preached by the curate, a slender young man, who was soon to go to Europe for his health. After the service the two aids-de-camp of the Governor General, in full uniform, waited for him at the church door, to attend him to his carriage. He keeps up a sort of court, as the representative of royalty, and his salary is $35,000.

After dinner Mrs. Lester, with Norman, went to see Dr. G., a Wesleyan minister, once a fellow passenger across the Atlantic. His house is very pleasantly situated, overlooking the pretty grounds of the normal school, whose fine buildings are an ornament to the city. Once, many years before, Mrs. Lester had taken tea with Mrs. G., and it was very pleasant to renew an acquaintance made under very happy auspices. The evening service in the Wesleyan churches did not begin till six, and Mrs. G. asked Mrs. Lester to remain and go to the Adelaide church with them. Mrs. Lester, however, found it necessary to return to the hotel, and before she went Dr. G. showed her, from the top of the house, the numerous churches whose spires adorn the fair city of Toronto.

They had a pleasant walk to their hotel, at the far end of the town; on their way they passed several handsome churches, one situated in a sort of court, the street terminating at the church. It was a pleasant evening service at the Richmond-street church: a very large congregation, hearty singing, and a good earnest sermon.

On passing the pretty Congregational church on the corner of Adelaide and Bay streets, they walked in and found that the minister had just begun his sermon on, “At midnight there was a cry heard, Behold the Bridegroom cometh: go ye out to meet him.” The minister, with a strong Scotch accent was saying, as they entered, “Who of you would be willing to fix a time when you would be ready to hear that cry?” He spoke of the stillness and solemnity of the hour—midnight silence and darkness, when the slightest sound startles one; when the wind, or the rustling of a branch against the window, often terrifies one when sitting alone or suddenly awakened from sleep. What then will it be to hear the piercing tones of that trumpet that will rouse the universe?

And then he said that that night might the cry sound to one who was listening to him, that suddenly, in the still watches of the night, that soul might be called to meet the Bridegroom. The morning would come; the family assembled at breakfast would miss the absent one, and on going to his room they would find only his lifeless remains; he would never meet with them again on earth.