CHAPTER XII.

The Committee on Supply hold an informal Meeting.

MR. Work has preached his last sermon. A committee has been appointed to supply the pulpit, and secure a candidate for the pastorate. I believe this sort of business is generally left to the session; but on Deacon Goodsole's motion a special committee was appointed partly out of respect to the congregational element which is considerable in this church, and partly, I suspect, as a compliment to Mr. Wheaton. It consists of Mr. Wheaton and Mr. Gear, on behalf of the society, and Deacon Goodsole, Mr. Hardcap and myself on behalf of the church. I forgot to mention that since our Bible-cla.s.s was commenced, Mr. Gear has begun to attend church, though not very regularly. Mr. Goodsole nominated Mr. Gear on the committee, and of course he was elected. I was rather sorry for I would have preferred that he did not know about the internal workings of this church. I do not think it will enhance his respect for religious inst.i.tutions. Still I could make no objection. I did make objections to taking a place on the committee myself, but Jennie persuaded me to relinquish them. She has often heard me arguing that politics is a duty, that citizens are bound to take and administer public office for the benefit of the State. By a neat little turn she set all these arguments against me, and as I could not answer them I was obliged to yield. Our wives' memories are sometimes dreadfully inconvenient.

Our committee held a sort of informal meeting last night, at the Post-Office, where we all met by chance, the usual way. In the Post-Office is the news exchange of Wheathedge, where we are very apt to meet about the time of the arrival of the evening mail.

Deacon Goodsole had been delegated to get a supply for the next two Sabbaths till we could discuss the merits of candidates. He reported that he had engaged the Rev. Mr. Elder, of Wheatensville. "He has the merest pittance of a salary," said the Deacon, "and I knew the twenty dollars would be acceptable to him. Besides which he is not only an excellent man but a sound preacher."

"Why wouldn't he be the man for us?" said I.

Mr. Wheaton exclaimed against me, "Too old," said he.

"Besides he's got five children," said Mr. Hardcap.

"What's that got to do with it?" said I. "So has Deacon Goodsole; but he's none the worse for that."

"We can't afford to support a man with a large family," said Mr.

Hardcap. "We must get a young man. We can't possibly afford to pay over $1,200 a year, and we ought not to pay over $1,000."

"Oh!" said I; "do we grade the ministers' salaries by the number of the minister's children?"

"Well we have to consider that, of course," said Mr. Hardcap.

"Solomon wasn't so wise as he is generally thought to be," said Mr.

Gear sarcastically, "or he never would have written that sentence about blessed is he whose quiver is full of them!"

"Well," said Mr. Hardcap, "all I've got to say is, if you get a man here with five children you can pay his salary, that's all."

"When you take a job Mr. Hardcap," said I, "do you expect to be paid according to the value of the work or according to the size of your family?"

"Oh! that's a very different thing," said Mr. Hardcap, "very different."

"Any way," said Mr. Wheaton, "Mr. Elder is entirely out of the question--entirely so. Mr. Laicus can hardly have proposed him seriously."

"Why out of the question, gentlemen?" said I. "He is a good preacher. Our congregation know him. He is a faithful, devoted pastor. We shall do Wheatensville no injustice, for it cannot give him a support. As to age, he is certainly not infirm. I do not believe he is a year over forty-five."

"No! no!" said Mr. Wheaton, decidedly. "It is utterly out of the question. We must have a young man, one who is fresh, up with the spirit of the age; one who can draw in the young men. The Methodists are getting them all."

"And the young girls too," said Mr. Gear dryly.

I wish Mr. Gear were not on this committee. The Deacon meant well.

But he made a blunder.

"Very well, then, gentlemen," said I; "if we want a fresh man let us go right to the theological seminary and get the best man we can find there."

"The seminary!" said Mr. Wheaton. He received this suggestion even more disdainfully than the previous one. "We must have a man of experience, Mr. Laicus. A theological student would never do."

"Experience without age!" said I; "that's a hard problem to solve.

For the life of me I do not see how we are going to do it."

"Well you must consider, Mr. Laicus," said Mr. Wheaton, adding force to his words by a gentle and impressive gesture with his forefinger, "that this is a very important and a very peculiar field-a very peculiar field indeed, Mr. Laicus. And it requires a man of very peculiar qualifications. It is really a city field," he continued.

"To all intents and purposes Wheathedge is a suburb of New York City. In the summer our congregation is very largely composed of city people. They are used to good preaching. They won't come to hear a commonplace preacher. And at the same time we have a very peculiar native population. And then, apart from our own people, there is the Mill village which really belongs to our parish, and which our pastor ought to cultivate. All these various elements combine to make up a diverse and conflicting population. And it will require a man of great energy, and great prudence, and no little knowledge of human nature, and practical skill in managing men, to get along here at all. I know more about Wheathedge than you do, Mr.

Laicus, and I a.s.sure you that it is a very peculiar field."

I believe that in the estimation of supply committees all fields are very peculiar fields. But I did not say anything.

"And we need a very peculiar man?" said Mr. Gear inquiringly.

"Yes," said Mr. Wheaton, decidedly; "a man of peculiar abilities and qualifications."

"Well then," said Mr. Gear, "I hope you are prepared to pay a peculiar salary. I don't know much about church matters gentlemen. I don't know what you put me on the committee for. But in my shop if I want a peculiar man I have to pay a peculiar salary."

There was a little laugh at this sally, but Mr. Gear evidently meant no joke, and as evidently Mr. Wheaton did not take any.

"Well," said I, "so far as salary goes I am prepared to vote for an increase to $1,500 and a parsonage. I don't live on less than twice that."

Mr. Hardcap struck his hands down resolutely into his pockets and groaned audibly.

"I am afraid we can't get it, Mr. Laicus," said Mr. Wheaton. "I believe a minister ought to have it, but I don't see where its coming from. We musn't burden the parish."

"And I believe," I retorted, "that the laborer is worthy of his hire; and we must not burden the pastor."

"For my part," said Mr. Hardcap, "I won't give my consent to a dollar over $1,200 a year. I ain't goin' to encourage ministerial luxury nohow."

"Well, for my part," said Mr. Wheaton, "I don't care so much about that. But we must have a first rate man. He has to preach here in the summer time to city congregations. They are critical sir, critical. And we have got to have just as good a man as the Broadway Tabernacle. But as to paying a city salary, that you know is absurd, Mr. Laicus. We can't be expected to do that."

"Bricks without straw," murmured Mr. Gear.

Just then the Post-Office window opened, and we made a rush for our mail. But before we separated we agreed to hold a formal meeting at my house a week from the following Thursday evening for a further canva.s.s of the whole matter.

Meanwhile I am perplexed by the double problem that our informal meeting has suggested. I have been sitting for half an hour pondering it. The children have long since gone to bed. I have finished my evening paper, and written my evening letters. The fire has burned low, and been replenished. Jennie sits by my side engaged in that modern imitation of Penelope's task, the darning of stockings. And for half an hour, only the ticking of the clock and the sighing of the wind outside have disturbed the silence of the room.

"Jennie," said I, at length, "when I told you to-night of our talk at the Post-Office you said you hoped we would get a young man.

Why?"

"Why?" said Jennie.

"Yes," said I. "I can understand why Mr. Hardcap wants a young man.

It is for the same reason that he employs half taught apprentices in his shop. They are cheap. Of course our good friend Maurice Mapleson, with neither wife nor children, can more easily lay up money on $1,000 a year than Mr. Elder, with his five children can on $1,500 or $2,000. But I don't think you and I, Jennie, want to economize on our minister."

"I am sure we don't John," said Jennie.

"And I can understand why Mr. Wheaton wants a young minister. Young ministers do draw better, at least at first. There is a certain freshness and attractiveness in youth. Curiosity is set agog in watching the young minister, and still more in watching his young bride. A ministerial honey-moon is a G.o.dsend to a parish. Whether we ought to hire our pastors to set curiosity agog and serve the parish as a nine-day's wonder may be a question. But I suspect that we very often do. But, Jennie, I hope you and I don't want a minister to serve us as food for gossip."