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       THE Superintendent’s first business 
      was to get his men, and this proved to be as difficult a task as the 
      catching of the proverbial hare ; more so,  
      indeed, 
      for as a rule the hare stayed caught and without further ado went duly 
      into the soup. But the men after being caught had to be held and handled 
      with extreme care. The sudden and wonderful expansion of missionary work 
      between the years 1881 and 1885 created an unusual demand for 
      missionaries, far greater than could be supplied by the graduates of our 
      Colleges. One consequence of this inadequacy of supply was a keen 
      competition for desirable men on the part of the various Presbyteries east 
      and west, the principle of selection being too often every man for 
      himself; with the result that in spite of stern regulations by the Home 
      Mission Committee against "private arrangement," the Con veners nearest 
      the source of supply, for obvious reasons, often fared much better than 
      those more remote. And although the Home Mission Committee made earnest 
      efforts to furnish the Superintendent with his full quota of men, it came 
      to pass that when the supply was exhausted, many Western fields were still 
      vacant.
      In 1885, the situation was so 
      serious that the Superintendent was sent to Union and Princeton 
      Theological Seminaries in search of men. His visit to Princeton is 
      described by one who has given long and distinguished service to the West 
      and who still holds an honoured place in his Church. 
      "As I sat one evening in my room at 
      the ‘Old Seminary,’ Princeton, in February, 1885, a rap was heard at the 
      door. Thinking some friendly neighbour was coming, I roared out in student 
      fashion, ‘Come!’ 
      "Slowly the door swung back, and 
      there, as if waiting a more formal invitation, stood a tall, gaunt-looking 
      stranger. I arose and assumed a civilized demeanour when the stranger 
      advanced and, extending his hand, said, ‘How do you do, sir? My name is 
      Robertson, from the Canadian Northwest. I saw your name, sir, in the 
      directory in the hall, and came to your room thinking there might have 
      been an error in one of the initials. We had an R. C. Murray in our 
      Western work last summer, who is taking a post-graduate course somewhere, 
      and I thought possibly it might be he who roomed here.’ 
      "To set him at his ease on the 
      matter of intrusion, I said 
      "‘No, sir, I am S. C. Murray, and I 
      am very glad to see you, Mr. Robertson. I have been reading a good deal 
      about our Northwest, and I have thought of venturing west myself when I 
      get through.’ 
      "There was a sudden light in the eye 
      as he almost greedily asked, ‘Are you a Canadian?’ 
      "‘I am.’ 
      "‘When do you graduate?’ 
      "‘This year.’ 
      "‘How many Canadians have you in 
      Princeton this year?’ 
      "‘Nineteen altogether.’ 
      
      ‘‘‘How many graduate?' 
      ‘‘‘Five.' 
      
      
        
      
      
      "‘Where could I see these men? I am 
      most anxious to meet with all  
      the Canadian students before I 
      leave tomorrow.' 
      "‘If you will  
      remain 
      here, I will go at once and ask them to meet you, and I 
      shall be very glad to have you occupy this room this evening and 
      to-morrow, as you may be able to arrange interviews with the fellows.’
      "‘Thank you, sir, very much; that is 
      very kind of you, indeed.’ 
      "From that time Mr. Robertson was my 
      very warm friend, and never awaited an invitation to my home, and, no 
      matter when he came, he was a welcome guest. 
      "In a short time the Canadian boys 
      came dropping in. That evening and the next forenoon we heard of the great 
      Canadian West, its resources, its vastness, its future. ‘How about the 
      winters?' ‘How are settlers 
      supplied with fuel?' ‘How will the rebellion affect missions?' ‘Do you 
      think the country will ever be well settled?' All manner of questions were 
      put, not forgetting ‘What salary do you pay your men?' of course. I shall 
      never forget the magnificent confidence of the man as, with one prophetic 
      sweep, he brushed aside all the questioners’ doubts by exclaiming: 
      "‘If there is anything, young gentlemen, in Divine 
      Providence, I cannot believe that He has locked up such vast resources as 
      are found in the Canadian West, without intending that country to be one 
      dlay well populated.’ 
      "He dipped into the future as far as human eye could 
      see, saw the vision of the West and all the wonder that would be. I had to 
      attend lectures part of the day, but had opportunity to see a good deal of 
      the man and hear a good deal of the West. When we were alone he said: 
      "‘I want to tell you about my coming here. A few of us 
      met in Toronto, and we were feeling keenly the need of men. We knelt in 
      prayer to ask Divine guidance. Immediately upon rising, two or three of 
      the Committee said almost simultaneously, "Mr. Robertson, go down to Union 
      and Princeton and see what you can do." I left Toronto at once, and you 
      know, sir, how I got to  your room. And as you 
      have been waiting for the providential guidance as to your future field, I 
      think you should have no difficulty in settling the difficulty now.’
      "And I hadn’t." 
      The student came in July of that 
      year, and with the West he has been identified ever since, taking his full 
      share of the toil, exposure, and privation incident to the planting of the 
      Western Church, and winning and holding to the very end the affection and 
      the esteem of his great chief. 
      It was at the Assembly of 1885, as 
      we have seen, that the attempt was made to establish a Summer Session in 
      Theology in one of the colleges. But the college selected by the Assembly 
      declined the experiment, and the Superintendent and his Committee were 
      left to struggle as best they could with the question of supply for the 
      Western fields. 
      Like other questions, the Western 
      service could be viewed from different standpoints, with very different 
      results. There was the view-point of the theological graduate seeking a 
      congenial field of labour. And it would not be surprising if Ontario, 
      offering all the comforts and congenialities, physical, literary, social, 
      of a civilized community should make strong appeal over the remote, 
      laborious, unbroken fields of the far West. There was the view-point also 
      of the college professor, who, ambitious for his college and with an eye 
      for future harvests, would prefer to sow his seed in the fertile fields of 
      wealthy Ontario. It is not impossible to understand how he might offer 
      such advice as one professor did to a favourite graduate. "Oh, Mr. Blank, 
      there is surely no need for you 
      to go West. You would find no difficulty in 
      securing a good congregation in Ontario." Of course, there were other 
      students and other professors; students whose ears were open to the call 
      of service without regard to place or circumstance; students to whom the 
      call to difficulty, privation, and peril came with irresistible force, and 
      who stood ready to follow the trail whether leading east or west. There 
      were professors, too, who placed Church before College and who were quick 
      to recognize the day of opportunity for the Church and for Canada. 
      These students and these professors 
      were the joy of the Superintendent’s heart. His view-point in regard to 
      Western missions was very easily arrived at. The future of Canada was 
      bound up with that of the country lying beyond the Great Lakes. The 
      concern of the Church was that the foundations of empire in that vast land 
      should be laid in righteousness. The rapid development of that country 
      created immediate and pressing demand for missionary effort. Before all 
      other fields this took preference, and for these present formative years 
      the claims of this work upon the Canadian Church were paramount. With him 
      it was The West, The West, and ever The West. The vastness of 
      responsibility, the magnificence of opportunity, the urgency of need 
      kindled in his heart a fire that never burned low, much less died out. He 
      could never get all his fields filled, and in consequence he was always 
      hungry for men, and the longer the list of his vacancies, the fiercer this 
      hunger grew. From college to college he went year after year haranguing, 
      appealing, pleading for men and with varying success. 
      "I am going," he writes, "to all the 
      colleges to advocate a larger number of grads going West. We must advance 
      in our present policy. Four or five licentiates went to Princeton this 
      winter to take a post-graduate course, simply because not called last 
      summer—and they will come out next spring fresh like an old maid the 
      second term. Oh, the folly of thinking you have a call to preach, and will 
      not hear a voice from any place but Ontario!" 
      In a letter to that sturdy pioneer 
      missionary, Rev. D. G. McQueen, be says with fine irony: 
      "Fort Saskatchewan should have an 
      ordained man now if possible, but men are very scarce, and our young men 
      religiously avoid missions and augmented congregations. Providence never 
      guides their steps to them. He seems to take charge of places with large 
      salaries and comfortable surroundings, and missions ‘and such’ are left to 
      - So I interpret the caut I am compelled to hear." 
      Successive disappointments wrought 
      in him a distrust of the motives animating some of those studying for the 
      Gospel ministry. To a Western Convener he allows himself to write as 
      follows: 
      "Our young graduates in the East 
      think that God calls them to places where the work is easy, the meals good 
      and the beds soft, and that a call where work is hard and the climate 
      severe must be from the evil one, and I fear they act on this impression." 
      To another he writes in a somewhat 
      severe strain in regard to the supply for a difficult British Columbia 
      field: 
      "As for Princeton, I do not think 
      that we have got the man yet that will suit. I am afraid that the most of 
      our men have neither grit nor leg enough to climb 5,000 feet and travel 
      thirty-five miles in the specified time, and we don’t want any Mr. F—’s to 
      go in there. Missionary fakirs are the worst fakirs, and it would seem as 
      if Canada was getting quite a number of them now. I think they should be 
      left severely alone, and I am of the opinion, moreover, that some men are 
      possessed not so much of love for mission work as of hatred for other 
      work. These are not the men for us." 
      There is no doubt of that, for these 
      are the men whose courage will break, to the ruin of the cause and the 
      discouragement of all who labour in it. Bat the Superintendent has in a 
      marked degree a saving sense of humour, and a gleam of this same grim 
      humour of his lights up his most doleful letters. 
      "Men not available, and although you 
      could make even a husky team ‘get’ by picturesque profanity, you cannot 
      start an ordinary Ontario man. He simply looks at you, rubs his hands, and 
      says, ‘I think I shall stay at home this winter. I’ll think about it in 
      the spring. I hope I am not disappointing you.’ Keep F.— at Beaver and 
      M—at Leduc —better a dinner of herbs than starvation." 
      In the following manner he strives 
      to bring comfort to a Western Convener sorely disappointed in the quality 
      of the supply sent him: 
      "Your letters are always welcome, 
      and there is no mistaking your fist, but you were in bad humour when you 
      wrote the last. We could have stationed your men for you, but we did not 
      think that quite fair, and so sent them through that you might put the big 
      ox in the wide stall and the small one in the narrow. And, truth to tell, 
      we took some of them because they offered for a year, on the certificate 
      of members of the Committee; our eyes never beheld them. Faith plays a 
      very important part in the appointments of the Committee. S— has backed 
      out, and H— was sent to take his place. He is not much to look at, but he 
      is a good one to work—so I am told. I take all responsibility for your 
      appointments. If you get some hickory sticks and some plain basswood, 
      people are unreasonable in supposing that you can change the inferior into 
      the superior timber." 
      The Superintendent was especially 
      critical of those who would pick and choose their spheres of labour. One 
      year he was sorely put out by the attitude of a number of men who, finding 
      it impossible to secure appointments to the Foreign Mission field for 
      which they had volunteered, declined service in his beloved West. 
      "I pleaded the case with them," he 
      writes, "and finally a number of them promised to lay the matter before 
      the Lord. I told them that they need not take the trouble, for I could 
      tell them now what the answer would be, for I had found that whenever a 
      man proposed to ask the Lord about Western work, the Lord as a rule 
      indicated a less laborious sphere. Indeed, if I were to judge by the 
      experience of these men, I would be forced to believe that the Lord had a 
      kind of grudge against the West." 
      He discovered a peculiarly fine vein 
      of sarcasm in dealing with men who shrank from the hardships of missionary 
      life and were fertile in excuse. In the following manner he writes a 
      British Columbia Convener: 
      "A number of men were approached 
      with a view to going to Horsefly, but all complained of some ailment or 
      physical defect that seemed to incapacitate them for this field. One had 
      something the matter with his spine, another had his back wrenched by a 
      chair being pulled from under him at college, a third could not ride 
      without becoming seasick, the mother of a fourth was old, the father of 
      another delicate and he could not go away so far, while the sixth was 
      engaged to be married and Horsefly was not a place to which to take a 
      wife. I hope that next spring so many of the men will not offer excuses of 
      that kind when approached." 
      The Superintendent used to relate 
      with grim relish an experience with a college graduate, a young man of 
      fine ability and of genuine missionary spirit, who, under the inspiration 
      of one of those great addresses of the Superintendent’s, offered for 
      Western work. Greatly delighted with his spirit and with his appearance, 
      the Superintendent selected a field in British Columbia remote from 
      civilization and calling for very considerable self-denial. 
      "But to my surprise, sir," said the 
      Superintendent, relating the incident, "the very next morning I received a 
      letter declining the appointment. I afterwards learned the cause. This 
      sudden change of mind was 
      due to his young lady and her family. For on hearing 
      the news of the appointment, it appears that the mother burst into tears, 
      the sister went into hysterics and the young lady herself lapsed into a 
      succession of swoons from which nothing would recall her but a promise 
      that her lover would abandon forever so desperate a venture as a British 
      Columbia mission field. I was hardly surprised to learn, he added with 
      evident relish, "that within a year that engagement was broken. And for 
      his sake, sir, I was glad of it." 
      There were times when the 
      Superintendent allowed his disappointment and desperation to extend the 
      sickly hue of suspicion from the students to the college in which they 
      were trained, and to the professors whose stamp they were supposed to 
      bear. 
      "There is something sadly wrong," he 
      writes, "about our young men and the mission field, and the same disease 
      seems to trouble the American Church, as their reports disclose. People 
      are praying for a revival of religion; the dry places of our Church, the 
      places that need most to be revived, are the colleges, including the 
      professors, for had the professors done their duty all the years of the 
      past, the state of things we have would not exist. The Church has left the 
      College to forage all over the Church for itself; the professors, 
      consequently, wish as many of their own students as possible to be settled 
      in Ontario and in good charges, so that the congregations of these men may 
      help the College. There is, consequently, no effort made to keep the 
      frontier before the students. Nor do professors go out to see the field 
      for themselves; they stick about the towns or go to Britain, 
      watering-places, etc., and the wants of the field are not known. The 
      American Assembly is bringing this matter before the colleges, and, 
      evidently, if their students shirk the work, the Assembly would like to 
      know why. I wish to visit these colleges ere long and tell the students a 
      few plain things.’’ 
      And without a doubt this wish was 
      gratified to his own relief and, let us hope, to the wholesome stirring of 
      these same dry bones. 
      On another occasion, hearing that a 
      college professor had been criticising a proposal to bring out men from 
      Britain, he proceeded to deal with the situation in the following manner: 
      "I got him into the chair in a 
      meeting in his own college last week, and gave him an exposition of the 
      situation, and showed how absurd it would be for us to have work undone, 
      asking British people to help us to do it, getting their financial help, 
      and yet refusing their men, when our own refused to go even when 
      subsidized by British funds. I told of my experience of writing to nearly 
      thirty graduates last autumn, and of getting one—a solitary grad. 
      to go. He had nothing to say, but affirmed that he was favourable to men 
      going west. My reply was that his students did not heed his advice then, 
      for since I was Superintendent we had got but an average of half a man a 
      year." 
      The need of missionaries for Western 
      supply at length passed beyond the bearing point, and compelled the 
      serious attention of the whole Church. In 1891, the question of a Summer 
      Session in Theology was revived. Overtures requesting the establishment of 
      such a session were presented to the General Assembly from the 
      Presbyteries of Toronto and of Brandon. These overtures were discussed 
      with more than ordinary eloquence and energy, and were sent to a Committee 
      representing almost all the great departments of the Church’s work. The 
      Committee laboured with the proposal for 
      many hours and 
      finally reported unfavourably to the proposed change. At this juncture a 
      Western representative, Professor Bryce, backed up by Professor Scrimger 
      of Montreal, submitted an amendment asking for the establishment of a 
      Summer Session in Manitoba College. This was fiercely opposed, but at 
      length it was given to another Western representative to suggest a 
      solution that seemed to indicate the way of least resistance. On motion of 
      the Rev. Hugh McKellar, the matter was remitted to the various 
      Presbyteries for judgment. The following year forty-six Presbyteries 
      reported, thirty-three favouring the establishment of a Summer Session and 
      twenty-three expressing preference for Manitoba College. This report was 
      again referred to a Committee, large and influential. Once more the 
      Committee laboured with the question and referred the whole matter back to 
      the Assembly. A motion to lay on the table was proposed and lost. Finally, 
      on motion of Rev. D. M. Gordon, former minister of Knox Church, Winnipeg, 
      the Assembly agreed that a session in Theology should be held in the 
      summer of 1893 in Manitoba College, which session was duly held, Principal 
      Grant, Professors Maclaren, Scrimger and Thomson, and the Rev. Peter 
      Wright of Portage la Prairie, assisting the staff of Manitoba College. 
      To the Assembly of 1893 the Superintendent was able to 
      report that during the previous winter, in anticipation of the Summer 
      Session, twenty-six Mission stations, with a constituency of over 1,200 
      Presbyterian families, had enjoyed Gospel ordinances and with an increased 
      expenditure of only $1,400. The Summer Session was proved to be an 
      unqualified success, and for nine years continued to give most valuable 
      service to the Church, both west and east. 
      
      But in spite of the relief thus 
      afforded, the phenomenal expansion of settlement consequent upon the 
      growing volume of immigration into Western Canada, rendered the supply of 
      mission fields increasingly difficult, until in 1900 the Superintendent in 
      his report is forced to say somewhat bitterly; 
      "For a number of years past the 
      supply of missionaries has been inadequate for winter service, and the 
      work of the Church has accordingly suffered. Last winter, seventeen 
      missions were without supply, and several more with only partial supply. 
      This spring, after all the men available for Western work were selected, 
      there were still fourteen vacancies. Subsequently, eight of those 
      appointed declined to serve in the West, bringing the vacancies up to 
      twenty-two. By getting men from Britain and the United States, by 
      appointing graduates of the Bible Training School in Toronto, and through 
      the efforts of a few gentlemen who have the interests of the West at 
      heart, a number of these vacancies have been filled, but eleven missions 
      at this moment stand vacant. This lack of supply has done great harm in 
      the West already; it has inflicted severe, irreparable losses on the 
      Church in Northern Ontario, and should be remedied. The supply of men in 
      the Church seems ample. The moment a prominent congregation in the West is 
      vacant, letters pour in asking for a hearing—many of them from men who 
      never had a charge. Were the General Assembly to require all graduates to 
      labour a year in the mission field before settling, great relief would 
      come to Home Mission work. And if, while engineering, law, and medical 
      students are salted with heavy fees, the Church exacts no fees from the 
      theological student, surely it is a small thing that they give one year’s 
      service to advance her work, especially when they are liberally 
      remunerated. And if not, why should the students not pay for their own 
      education ?" 
      Eleven fields unmanned meant between 
      thirty and forty preaching stations unsupplied, and this, to the 
      Superintendent, seemed well-nigh intolerable. In that year overtures from 
      the Presbytery of Algoma and the Synod of British Columbia, with a strong 
      resolution from the Assembly’s Home Mission Committee, were presented to 
      the Assembly, asking, among other things, that the course in theology 
      should be extended from three to four years, the last year to be spent in 
      a mission field. The overture was, as usual, debated at great length, 
      referred to a Committee, killed and decently buried beneath what proved to 
      be a perfectly futile resolution, the truth being that the General 
      Assembly knew full well that the democratic spirit in the Presbyterian 
      Church now and then runs, to seed to the utter subversion of all 
      discipline, and that in consequence it was impossible to enforce any such 
      regulation as that desired by the overture.  |