"Would I describe a Preacher such as Paul
Were he on earth, would hear, approve and own,
Paul should himself direct me."

COWPER


BOOK I.

I.

To the deep umbrage of our North back woods,
And near to Huron's wild romantic shore--
Where Winter's storms are seen in angry moods,
To make the Lake's waves dash with loudest roar--
Came GOODWORTH, twelve years since, and brought a store
Of Christian wisdom to those lonely parts:
To try if he could find an open door
By which to reach the settlers' sinful hearts,
And them inform of what would heal their inward smarts.

II.

Firm in his mind, robust was he in frame,
Of human learning having ample share;
With fervent zeal, love-prompted, there he came,
Pure Gospel Truth in meekness to declare,
And backwoods hardships with his hearers share;
He brought his loving wife and children four,
Who for their own convenience showed small care;
Who had with Christian heroism bore
A heavy share of trial several years before.

III.

These four dear children had been early trained
To take their part in every day's employ;
Nor were their youthful hearts by this estranged
From the kind parents, who did show their joy
In manifesting no wish to annoy
Their dearest offspring by undue restraint;
Aware that this might very soon destroy
Their influence; and who has power to paint
The ills which flow from this too prevalent complaint?

IV.

Think not, kind reader, I would overdraw
My pictures of sweet, chaste, conjugal bliss;
All I describe I've seen, and, therefore, know
I err not far--though some may doubt of this--
And deem my sketches very far amiss.
It matters not; those who have faithful been
In wedlock pure have often found, I was,
That a fair share of happiness serene
Upon this earth in Christian families still is seen.

V.

And such were those of whom I speak above,
For of God's grace they every one partook.
Their actions sprang from the great Law of Love,
So plainly laid down in his Holy Book.
All might discover from each kind, sweet look,
That they had been unto the Savior's School;
That they had seldom Wisdom's paths forsook,
But made the Word their only Guide and Rule.
This kept their love alive, nor let their ardor cool.

VI.

Yet they did not to this at once attain;
Poor human nature in its best estate
Has much about it that is truly vain,
And these were not exempt from common fate.
Some fourteen years before my story's date
They had been in the purifying fire
Of great affliction; had been led to wait
Upon their God who knew their soul's desire,
And brought them through, clothed in Humility's attire.

VII.

And gave them for their loved ones taken away,
What was more needful for their growth in grace,
And led them thus to make His Arm their stay.
In all their trials His kind hand to trace.
'Twas this that fitted them for such a place
As in these woods the were designed to fill;
And hence they always wore a cheerful face,
And bowed their own unto their Savior's will,
While with the Spirit's sword the showed the greatest skill.

VIII.

And such were needed in that settlement
But just reclaimed from the wild wilderness,
For its inhabitants appeared content
With worldly things, which did good thoughts repress,
And cause the Pastor much of sore distress.
In truth it seemed a most forbidding field
For pastoral labor, and it was no less.
But God could make it precious fruit to yield,
And be unto his servants constant Strength and Shield.

IX.

Now they had sought the mind of God to know
Ere they concluded there to settle down;
And this determined they resolved to go
To that rough place--quite far from any town,
Where rude log huts were very thinly strown,
And where hard labor stared them in the face,
While gloomy woods appeared on them to frown,
To find earth's comforts were but very scarce.
For such a step I'm sure they needed special grace.

X.

This they obtained, and providentially
Were led to find a very splendid lot,
Which fronted on that mighty inland Sea,
And is in Summer a most lovely spot;
A barren piece of land it sure is not.
This might be known from its fine stock of trees.
Now their good fortune gratitude begot,
Which was poured forth to God upon their knees,
While green leaves waved above, fanned by a warm, soft breeze.

XI.

A shabby shanty stood upon the ground,
Perhaps erected by a poor red man;
Fire-weeds and brushwood thickly grew around,
To clear off which they now at once began.
Near by the place a charming spring-creek ran;
This had its source in a high tree-clad hill,
From top of which the country they could scan.
The father and two sons with right good will
That shanty soon prepare, and they its small space till.

XII.

This proved a wretched shelter at the best,
For rain came through the worn-out roof of bark,
And for hard laborers was no place of rest,
While its small window left it very dark.
They speak together of a house, when, hark!
A noise they hear--a sound as of great glee--
The settlers in their breasts possessed a spark
Of sweet good nature, and now came to see
If they could not be useful to the family.

XIII.

This as an omen soon was understood,
And pressing wants were to each friend made known.
With axes armed these quick obtained some wood,
Which by strong oxen speedily was drawn
To the selected spot that had been shown.
The Pastor's wife and daughters then prepare
A good, substantial meal, and with kind tone
Invite the friends to come and taste their fare,
Which they in gratitude had made with nicest care.

XIV.

With this good offer all at once complied;
They came to work and therefore needs must eat.
The day was fine and beech tree shade supplied
A place for table, and each took a seat,
Admiring much the dinner spread so neat.
And GOODWORTH then gave thanks most rev'rently
For such sweet comforts in their wood's retreat,
And prayed that each warm-hearted friend might be
Rewarded for his kindness in Eternity.

XV.

The dinner o'er, awhile in friendly chat
They sat and rested till the cattle fed.
Then GOODWORTH freely spoke to them of what
He and his family to that place had led,
And sweetly mentioned Him that once had bled--
The great God-man, who, sinners came to save.
These men in silence heard all he had said,
And some shed tears, and all looked very grave,
Though each rude breast possessed a heart most truly brave.

XVI.

Once more bright axes, wielded by strong arms
Make chips fly fast, as they the logs prepare;
Such willing work the Pastor's family charms,
For they this kindness had not thought to share.
A strong foundation now is laid with care;
Of ample size, the fabric upward grows;
The men take pains to have the corners square,
Which to effect the spare nor strength nor blows;
And thus, as if by magic, that neat structure rose.

XVII.

Meanwhile, there came some shingles, nails and boards,
Brought by two teams, which only now were seen;
And this fresh kindness fullest proof affords
That GOODWORTH'S object was approved, I ween.
Now some for rafters a long way had been;
And, as the sun had sunk into the West,
The women had prepared their table clean,
Well laden, as before, with food; the best
Which they had power to furnish in that wild wood-nest.

XVIII.

Warm thanks are given: the workers fall to work
To do full justice to that savory meal.
No wicked feelings in their bosoms lurk
Against the family; but they strongly feel
They have an interest in all their weal,
And freely speak of coming back next day
The house to finish; kindly thus they deal
With those dear folks--who wish them still to stay--
And they will sing awhile, to cheer them on their way.

XIX.

To this they all consented; then arose
Song after song, in praise of Jesus' name!
Such songs can lighten e'en our saddest woes,
And raise in human hearts a heavenly flame.
Six men there were who, from that night, became
Quite altered characters--as all might see.
For Gospel Truth can e'en a savage tame;
Though this to some men seems a mystery--
Such have not seen themselves sunk in depravity.

XX.

The singing o'er, the good man said, "Let's pray."
All down beside him reverently knelt;
It was a proper close for such a day--
As all engaged must then have deeply felt.
And oh, the language of that prayer did melt
Some stony hearts, as I in truth would tell:
For GOODWORTH on God's love and mercy dwelt--
On coming judgment--and on Heaven and Hell--
Till every one seemed bound as by the strongest spell.

XXI.

This done, those neighbors--though reluctantly--
Took leave of that most happy household there:
And were as pleased as any men could be
They were allowed such company to share.
'Twas Spring time, and the still and balmy air
Was most refreshing to the wearied frame;
And Luna's brightness, though quite free from glare,
Enabled them to see which way they came--
For staying rather late they would incur no blame.

XXII.

The morning came, and with alacrity
Came settlers also, ready as before
To help the welcome new-come family
Whose strange, deep news had made their hearts so sore.
And now the labor of the day each bore
As if his own advantage he would seek.
Some went to roofing, some to fix the door
And windows, and with hearts and arms not weak,
They make the work fly fast, scarce leaving time to speak.

XXIII.

The muster, greater this day than the last,
Left some hands free to clear a piece of ground;
And these, with brush-hooks, o'er two acres passed,
Making good riddance of what brush they found.
They then cut down some poles and fenced it round.
The family, too, were busy all this while,
For they were moved with gratitude profound
To show their thankfulness in many a smile.
Their happy faces do the laborers' hearts beguile.

XXIV.

The meal-times passed with pleasure and some profit;
Naught did occur to mar the harmony.
If there were whisky every one kept off it,
And all confessed they worked more easily.
Too often liquor in the woods we see,
And much vile mischief is it apt to do
When neighbors come to help at Logging-bee,
Or to assist each other at the plow.
It pleases me to see this practice broken through.

XXV.

The Country would have reason to rejoice
If not a drop were as a beverage used,
And I would not be slow to raise my voice
Till Temperance principles are more diffused.
For this by some folks I may be abused,
But where's the harm? I seek alone their good,
And cannot be by conscience well excused
If I refuse my aid to stem the flood
Which drowns its thousands of our common brotherhood.

XXVI.

But to return: The work had so well sped,
And the new house was so far on the way
Toward completion, that the family's head
Thought they might safely move that very day,
But first enquired what there would be to pay?
The neighbors smiled and kept the secret close,
And what the bill was none thought fit to say.
For satisfaction "he must ask the Boss."
To tell who that was every one felt quite at loss.

XXVII.

Is this exaggeration? Witness now,
Ye far backwoodsmen--much too oft belied,
Are ye inclined these things to disavow?
Or will my statements be by you denied?
If not they stand for truth both far and wide,
And your example may be found of use
In leading others quickly to decide
That they for ignorance have no excuse
In this enlightened age, when Knowledge is diffuse.

XXVIII.

I need not mention every little thing
That was required to make the house complete.
My humble Muse would now attempt to sing
Of subjects which to her are far more sweet.
The Pastor happy lived in his retreat,
Preaching on Sabbath, in a school-house near.
There many came who could not get a seat,
And such large audience did the Pastor cheer,
Who spoke to them with zeal--for they to him were dear.

XXIX.

I may be asked, "What was this man's persuasion?
Was he a Churchman or a Methodist?"
I answer make without the least evasion,
He owned no "ism," nor yet "ite," nor "ist."
But if on further knowledge you insist,
I only say that he was glad to own
The "Blood-bought Throng" wherever they exist.
Nor did he scruple to let this be known,
The BIBLE still the Source from which his creed was drawn.

XXX.

From it he gathered that ev'n two or three
Met in Christ's name a Church of God do make;
That, when so met, they have full liberty
On each Lord's Day the Bread and Wine to take.
All vain traditions they in this forsake,
But get rich blessing from the King of Kings.
And in that lonely house near Huron's Lake,
The family enjoyed the bliss which springs
From means well used, and these afresh each Sabbath brings.

XXXI.

The six of whom I spoke some pages back,
Sought early fellowship with that small band.
These of great sorrow had displayed no lack,
And now as Christians publicly they stand,
Unto Christ's work they give each heart and hand,
And one of them called Luth, possessed of means,
Resolved at once to give a piece of land
On which to build a chapel, midst sweet scenes;
A very central place, and near two deep ravines.

XXXII.

Nor was this all; he gave some good pine trees
And other requisites to build the place;
The work he knew would all be done by "Bees."
The friends the opportunity embrace
To make the matter fully known all round.
Strong opposition they had now to face
From those who rather would in sin be found,
And such cared nothing for the glorious Gospel sound.

XXXIII.

The Minister proposed to wait awhile,
Till this grave subject could be well discussed.
He wished that none would act from motives vile,
For popularity he did not lust,
And in his Father he could always trust;
Advised to seek God's mind by earnest prayer,
In generosity to be still just;
By such means only could they hope to share
God's constant approbation and His guardian care.

XXXIV.

This prudent course ensured the object sought.
Some who opposed did, of their own accord
Propose assistance, and with vigor wrought
To raise the humble Chapel to the Lord.
Dear GOODWORTH wielded skilfully the sword,
Which by God's blessing pierced into the souls
Of those who came to hear the plain-taught Word,
Whose rich Truth, for Sin's pleasures lost, consoles,
And cheers and strengthens those whose lust it still controls.

XXXV.

Truly it was a lovely sight to see
The opening of that place of worship pure.
There was displayed no animosity,
All seemed at home in perfect peace secure.
Sweet gospel sermons fitted to allure
The erring sons and daughters of mankind
Were preached that day, and I feel very sure
It was no "blind man's leading of the blind,"
But preaching of that sort which is for good designed.

XXXVI.

The music was by voices rich and clear,
The words the language of most grateful hearts,
All forming worship void of slavish fear;
Most orderly besides in all its parts,
Though the performers knew not much of arts
On which some pride themselves in this our day;
Nor was the singing done by fits and starts,
As if God's service were but childish play.
They knew His Eye was on their secret thoughts alway.

XXXVII.

I must not fail to mention the chief thing
For which all saints should meet on Sabbath day;
But first my Muse would boldly spread her wing,
For she could always on this subject stay.
Your kind indulgence, reader, I would pray,
As this sweet topic is most dear to me.
Most gracious Savior, who for me didst pay
Thy precious blood upon the cursed tree,
That I might be redeemed from sin and misery.

XXXVIII.

Grant me Thy Spirit's aid while I attempt
A true d