The change from the green hills of Old Ireland to the inhospitable wilds of Western Canada was very great indeed. The separation from old associations and from friends, never more to meet on this side of eternity, had a most depressing effect. The altars at which they had worshiped and the little plot where the ashes of their fathers reposed were far away. Communications with those left behind were few, and could not be expected in less than three or four months. Neighbors were few and far between. This will be easily understood when the townships of Blanshard, Downie, and Fullerton, at the time Mr. Cathcart came in, only contained one hundred and twenty- three homes. For miles on every side stretched a silent and unbroken wilderness. The old settlers were brave men indeed, and must have had boundless hope in the future of the country ever to brave the trials and hardships of pioneer life. Under the most favorable circumstances they could look forward to nothing but years of hardship and toil. They were the champions of progress, and laid the foundation of a civilization which is the glory of the Canadian people.

But even under all these adverse circumstances they were not without enjoyment. The consciousness that the piece of earth on which they labored would one day be their own, gave them renewed energy for their daily task. Every day saw something done, and some long-looked-for end accomplished. What though they had to work hard? What though the remuneration was small and slow in coming? Come it undoubtedly would; and it was something worth striving for to be the lord of a hundred acres of fertile Canadian soil. And then, too, when the long winter nights had come, what pleasant hours were spent in those old shanties in the woods! A great backlog like a tree was carried in and thrown on the fire, which roared and crackled in the old clay fire-place like a lime-kiln, and sent a shower of sparks up around the smoky lug-pole, like a furnace. If the storm raged without, there was happiness within. The presence of a neighbor gave zest to their pleasure, they talked of the Old Land, the green fields of Ireland, or the heather hills of Scotland, until their hearts were full, and their eyes suffused with tears. After all, those were happy days; we shall never see their like again.

From 1842 to 1855 Mr. Cathcart, like the other pioneers, had employment in clearing his farm, erecting buildings and putting it in shape generally; and beyond having two or three trips to Goderich on the jury (the only place where court was held in the Huron Tract) did not take a very prominent part in public affairs.

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