y,
on a Canadian farm. Even during his theological course, vacations had
found him in the harvest field.
"You may guess my diffidence, then," he said, "in lifting up my voice
before such a gathering as this, here in the storied heart of the
Empire, the city I have reverenced my life long as the centre of the
world's intelligence. But there is not a man or woman here to-day who
would chide a lad who came home from school with tidings of something he
had learned there. That is my case, precisely. I have been to one of our
outside schools, from my home here in this beloved island. Home and
school alike, they are all part of our family heritage--yours and mine.
I only bring you your own word from another part of our own place. That
is my sole claim to stand before you to-day. Yet, when I think of it, it
satisfies me; it safeguards me from the effect of misunderstanding or
offence, so long as my hearers are of my kin--British."
His description of Canada and the life he had lived there occupied us
for no more than ten minutes, at the outside. It has appeared in so many
books that I will not attempt to quote that little masterpiece of
illumination. But by no means every reproduction of this passage adds
the simple little statement which divided it from its successor.
"That has been my life. No brilliant qualities are demanded of a man in
such a life. The one thing demanded is that he shall do his duty. You
remember that passage in Ecclesiastes--'The conclusion of the whole
matter'?"
And then came the story of Edward Hare. That moved the people deeply.
"My first curacy was in Southern Manitoba. When I was walking from the
church to the farmhouse where I lodged, after morning service, one
perfect day in June, I passed a man called Edward Hare, sitting at the
edge of a little bluff, on a rising piece of ground. I had felt drawn
toward this man. He was a Londoner, and, in his first two years, had had
a tough fight. But he had won through, and now had just succeeded in
adding a hundred and sixty acres to his little farm, which was one of
the most prosperous in the district.
"'I didn't see you at church this morning, Hare,' I said, after we had
chatted a minute or two.
"'No,' said he; 'I wasn't at church. I've been here by this bluff since
breakfast, and--Parson!' he said, with sudden emphasis, 'I shall give up
the farm. I'm going back Home.'
"Well, of course, I was surprised, and pressed him for reasons. 'Well,'
h
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