In the course of nature, even their bones and
their memories would enter into the fabric. The new
country filled their eyes; the new town was their
opportunity, its destiny their fate. They were altogether
occupied with its affairs, and the affairs of the growing
Dominion, yet obscure in the heart of each of them ran
the undercurrent of the old allegiance. They had gone
the length of their tether, but the tether was always
there. Thus, before a congregation that always stood in
the early days, had the minister every Sunday morning
for thirty years besought the Almighty, with ardour and
humility, on behalf of the Royal Family. It came in the
long prayer, about the middle. Not in the perfunctory
words of a ritual, but in the language of his choice,
which varied according to what he believed to be the
spiritual needs of the reigning House, and was at one
period, touching certain of its members, though respectful,
extremely candid. The General Assembly of the Church of
Scotland, "now in session," also--was it ever forgotten
once? And even the Prime Minister, "and those who sit in
council with him," with just a hint of extra commendation
if it happened to be Mr Gladstone. The minister of Knox
Church, Elgin, Ontario, Canada, kept his eye on them all.
Remote as he was, and concerned with affairs of which
they could know little, his sphere of duty could never
revolve too far westward to embrace them, nor could his
influence, under any circumstances, cease to be at their
disposal.
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