Religious movements--Itinerant preachers--$50 a year--Camp-meetings--Weird scenes at night--Millerites--World coming to an end--Dissenters attempt to fly--Affrighted by a “sun-dog”--Destruction fails to materialize--The Mormons--An improvised Gabriel--Raising the dead--Converts--Salt Lake--An Irish refugee and his poem.
“On some fond breast the ’parting soul relies, Some pious tears the closing eye requires, E’en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E’en in our ashes live their wonted fires.”
Before churches were built in the early settlements services were held by itinerant preachers at the houses of the people, or else in the school-houses, if accessible. Most of these itinerant preachers were earnest, zealous men, and labored honestly for what they considered to be right and their duty. Subsisting upon the cosmopolitan (to them) parishioners, their real need of money was not excessive. It is related of many of them that they did not receive in money more than $50 to $100 per year during their whole stay in the vicinity. Donations in kind being frequent, and usually abundant, the need of money was not felt. Money, indeed, to the pioneer was too precious to be lightly paid out, or even talked over, except of necessity. Most of the settlers in the neighboring townships who had not received Royal grants, had bought their lands from the Crown, the Canada Company, or the Bursar of Toronto University.
Although the price was usually about $4 per acre, with long terms allowed for payment, and the vendors were very lenient, yet pay-day inevitably came around, and every Halifax pound obtained must be hoarded against it.
My earliest recollection of an itinerant preacher is of one particular man whose visits were made quarterly, and who always sang at night:
“How happy is the man Who has chosen wisdom’s ways, And has measured out his span, To his God in prayer and praise.”
He was as happy and light-hearted as the birds of the air. His hands were not hardened by incessant chopping of forest trees, nor was his face blackened by burning log-heaps. Just how it was I never quite knew, but one day he borrowed a saddle and $40 from my father, and forgot to come back again. My father did not, so far as I can remember, participate in the ideal joys of this itinerant, nor did he seem to be disturbed or unhappy from deprivation of them.