From the pulpit to the poor-house

Front matter

1 ):

FROM

THE PULPIT TO THE POOR-HOUSE

CHAPTER I. A Father's Purpose Defeated by a Mother's Prayer 9

" II. A Bitter-sweet Honey-moon 14

" III. The Donation Party 21

" IV. Behold,. Thou art Old 27

" V. A Pauper Pension for a Veteran Hero. . 30

" VI. Vivisecting the Veteran 38

" VII. St. Michael the Raven 39

" VIII. Bitter as Death 46

" IX. On the Road to the Poor-house 50

" X. An Aqua-fortis Sermon , 54

" XI. Pacts More Terrible Than Fiction 59

DISSOLVING VIEWS OF THE METHODISM OF 1989- • • • 76

TOM THE PHARISEE AND JACK THE PRODIGAL.

CHAPTER I. Jack the Prodigal 103

" II. Tom the Pharisee 116

" III. The Higher Critic and the Hypercritic. 127

" IV. Letter from New York 134

" VI. " " New York 151

" VII. " Japan 155

" VIII. " " New York 165

HOW SANTA CLAUS MADE ONE DOLLAR HOLD OUT.. ins

CHAPTEK I. a father's purpose defeated by a mother's prayer.

DON'T be a fool, John ! You can't afford to throw your life away in the Methodist itinerancy. With the start I will give you, you can win success in any business or profession you choose. If you desire to be a farmer, here is the old homestead ; it shall be yours. If you want to go to college and fit yourself for a profession, I will gladly help you. But to see you turn your back upon every opportunity for success to become a preacher among the poor and ignorant Methodists is the greatest grief of my life. If you will not listen to me now you will rue it to the end of your life."

" But, father—"

" Just wait until I am through, young man ! I am an old fogy, I presume. The boys know more at twenty-five than the fathers do at fifty. You were going to say that to get money is not the worthiest object in life. I have heard you say that more than a hundred times. But you will find money is a handy thing to have around. That will be the first thing you will learn in the Methodist itinerancy. The itinerant is never tempted to get rich. God keeps him humble and the people manage to keep him poor."

" But, father—"

" I am not through yet. If you become a Methodist preacher you will spend your life in hard work and receive a bare support. As soon as you are worn out you will be cast adrift, like an old horse, to die. Your Church is not magnanimous enough to provide even a poor-house for its pauper ministers. A life of toil, privation, and sacrifice for the pittance of a common laborer ! When ineffective because of gray hairs they will turn you adrift with scarce a crust. The pittance they will dole out to you will be as alms to a beggar and will be bestowed with such offensive parade that every instinct of manhood will forbid your accepting it unless you are reduced to absolute penury. If you select a profession with your ability and the training I will secure for you, you will at an early day secure an honorable position, obtain a com-

A Father's Purpose Defeated. 11

petence and a home', and even in the decline of life you will receive your largest income. Yon will find your harvest-time at the very age when in the ministry you will be rejected and without either occupation, home, or means of support. If you decide to become a Methodist preacher you must do it with your eyes wide open. I have done my duty. I have only told you that which you as well as I know to be but the bare truth. What have you to say ? "

" Father, I have decided to become a Methodist preacher if I have to die in the poor-house."

This brief dialogue occurred many years ago in a New England farm-house.* The father had little interest in or sympathy with religious people. In spite of his Methodist wife he claimed to have a positive dislike for, and bitter prejudice against, the Methodists. He was very proud of his bright, active boy, and was greatly vexed when the young man was converted and became a Methodist. When the father remonstrated, and threatened the son, he proved to be a chip of the old block. The father said one day :

" I have a great mind to turn you out of doors if you do not stay away from those pesky Methodists ! "

The son quietly replied :

* When I read this story in New England I always located it out West. It saved trouble.

" Father, I have always honored and respected you ; but in this matter I claim the right to decide for myself. You have always urged me to have a mind and an opinion of my own. I have tried to obey you in other things and I demand the right to do so in my religion. I am a Methodist not from impulse, but from principle and conviction. If you bid me leave your house I will sorrowfully obey you ; but I cannot cease to be a Methodist."

The father was at first bitterly enraged, and then sorely grieved, when he learned that his son proposed to become a Methodist preacher. He tried every expedient to avert what he firmly believed would be a disaster. The morning that the young man was to start to the Annual Conference to be received on trial, the conversation took place which I have related at the opening of my story. When the father found all his arguments and entreaties of no avail he gave the young man the best horse in his barn, with bridle, saddle, and saddle-bags. He said, with a grim smile, as he noticed the surprise created by the very appropriate gift :

" I had reason to believe that you inherited enough of the family stubbornness not to heed your father's counsel. I have all along felt sure that you would persist in making a fool of yourself in spite of all my

A Father's Purpose Defeated. 13

remonstrance and advice. I am not sure but I am largely responsible for your folly. ' Forbid a fool a thing and that he'll do.' If I had only remembered that 'fools are not to be convinced,' and had humored your fancy instead of opposing it, I might have saved myself the humiliation and you the misfortune of the blunder of this hour. If you will not listen to reason, but are determined to become a traveling beggar, my family pride compels me to give you a respectable outfit."

The young man, with tearful eyes, grasped his father's hard hand with a fervent grip and said :

" Father, I deeply regret that duty compels me to cause you so great a disappointment. I thank you for your generous gift." And then, with a smile through his tears, he said :

" I will try to prove false the old adage you have uttered so often : ' Put a beggar on horseback and he'll ride to the devil !' " > Mother and son had a tender parting upon which we will not intrude. The young man mounted his horse with wet eyes. That scene in his mother's chamber he would never forget. He had received his mother's farewell kiss and blessing. Her farewell words encouraged him as he thought about them all the way to the Conference. She had said, with eyes shining through her tears :

i% My son, I have prayed that you might become a Methodist minister ever since the day you were born. May God make you a successful one, is your mother's only wish and prayer."

CHAPTEK II.

A BITTER-SWEET HONEY-MOON.

IT will be impossible in this brief space to follow the steps of the young itinerant through his whole ministerial life. Our purpose will be accomplished by recording its closing chapters. His experience was in no particular different from that of most of his brethren. He began with the smallest and hardest places. His work was fairly successful, but required the sacrifice and heroism so common to all itinerants as never to receive mention. His life passed uneventfully along year by year ; he rarely suffered from want ; he never enjoyed the luxuries of life ; he was always poor. A brief glance at one of the many appointments he served may account for the smallness of his savings. The trip from the seat of Conference to one of his charges was his marriage tour. The

A Bitter-sweet Honey-moon.

minister and his new wife, whose honey-moon began with the Conference session, had talked in a confidential way about the happiness of love in a cottage parsonage. They had tried to guess the shape and color of the house, the number of the rooms, and the pattern of the carpets and the kind of furniture until they had become so interested that each chided the other with preparing the way for a great disappointment.

They were met at the depot by a committee of a half-dozen of the leading members of the church. After the greeting was given, one after another began to say how happy they would be to have their new pastor and his wife stop with them ; but one " had such a small house ; " another " had a sick wife ; " another " had so many children.'' The minister said :

" Have you a hotel here ? "

"Yes," said one of the committee, who had not spoken ; " I keep the hotel ! "

" Please take our checks and have our baggage taken to the hotel. We will stop with you until we can make other arrangements."

This proposition was so quickly assented to by all as " just the thing," that the pastor and his wife said to each other, at the first moment of privacy, " That must have been arranged beforehand."

One week's boarding at regular hotel rates convinced the minister that the small salary he was likely to receive would all be exhausted before the first quarterly meeting. " The parsonage is a little out of repair," the hotel-keeper said, a little testily, when he found he was to lose his boarders. He had insisted that, as business was business, the pastor should pay full price and weekly in advance. When the minister ventured to ask if the parsonage could not be sufficiently repaired to make it habitable the reply was still more curt :

" The church is too poor to repair it. There is no furniture, and the Ladies' Aid Society is too small and weak to buy any."

The minister and his wife visited the parsonage. It had not been opened for nearly a year. The former minister had been a single man, and the church had been unable to rent the house by reason of its dilapidated condition. It was a little cottage one story and a half high. The red paint with which it had been painted many years before had peeled off in many places and had faded in others, so that the question as to color was decided a draw. The wife suggested that " mottle " was the nearest color. It was situated upon a narrow back street. The gate was off the hinges ; most of the fence was torn down ; the yard had been the village resort for boys and wandering animals, until it was a sorry and desolate looking

A Bitter-sweet Honey-moon.

spot. The window sashes evidenced that the boys emulated the Benjamite accomplishment of slinging stones " at a hair-breadth without a miss." The porch swayed and creaked when the minister stepped upon it. After unlocking the door it required two men to force it open. The ceilings were low, black, and damp-looking ; the walls had been papered, but much of the paper had fallen off ; the floor was sunken and wet. The cellar was half full of water. The air felt damp and chill. Every thing was cheerless enough, but the wife said, with a bright smile through her tears :

" "We have love and the cottage, you know."

The hotel-keeper, who had looked the house over with illy concealed disgust and contempt, said :

" I would not stable my horses in such a hole. If you prefer to go to housekeeping here, rather than board with me, you may. But you may be sure the church has no money to throw away fixing it up or furnishing it."

The pastor quietly replied :

" I have estimated the expense of boarding with

you at the rate with which we have begun, and I find

that the salary which has been estimated will pay our

board with you just six months and leave us not a

penny for clothes. I agree with you that this shanty

is not fit for a decent stable ; but as it is the best our 2

From the Pulpit to the Poor-house.

people seem to care to do for a house for us we must make the best of it."

After a week's hard work painting, scrubbing, and papering, the old house began to look cosy and neat. Most of the wife's savings from her salary as a schoolteacher were expended in very scantily furnishing two or three of the rooms. The first night they occupied their new home it rained. They were awakened by the dash of the rain upon the window and roof. The wife said :

" My dear, what a comfort it is to have a roof over our heads such a night as this."

Just at that moment a large drop of water fell in her face, followed in quick succession by a dozen small ones. The roof had sprung a leak. The water collecting overhead began to ooze through the plastering. She did not finish her remark. They moved the bed to another part of the room, but had scarcely lain down before a large drop fell in the minister's face. They moved the bed five times, and placed it under a leak every time. The minister tried to light a match, but the matches had been under a leak, too. After a long and blundering search in the dark the minister found the umbrella, which he hoisted over their heads, saying :

" What a comfort it is, my dear, to have a roof over ' our heads such a night as this."

A Bitter-sweet Honey-moon. 19

The night ended, as all nights must, but seemed in no hurry about it. The minister said, as daylight began to appear :

" Thank heaven, it's over at last."

He sprang back into bed with a cry of surprise? and dismay. The water in the room was about ankle ; deep. The water from the hill back of the house, added to what came in through the roof, made a respectable sized pond for a family of two. The fire was out, the matches were wet, their clothes were thoroughly saturated with water, and the minister's boots were half full of water.

The parsonage was a fair illustration of the church. One incident of many of a similar character may give a faint idea of the broad-minded and liberal spirit of the officiary of the church.

One of the stewards brought in a fine turkey and a pumpkin pie as his usual Thanksgiving present to his pastor. The present was thankfully received. The minister, surprised out of his usual self-possession by the novelty of receiving a present of real value, said :

" This is such a large and fine bird it is a pity we have but two in our family ; suppose you come and help eat it."

To the utter dismay of the minister and his wife,

From the Pulpit to the Poor-house.

the good brother instantly accepted the invitation, and said :

"I will bring my wife and all the family, so you won't be so lonesome."

When he had gone, the minister, seeing the look of sorrowful perplexity upon his wife's face, said :

" My dear, I was only joking ; I had no idea he would accept."

She deliberately went to the book-case, and taking down the Discipline turned to rule second for a preacher's conduct, and read aloud : " 6 Be serious, avoid all lightness, jesting, and foolish talking.' My dear, please never joke again with that brother."

When Thanksgiving came the steward and stewardess and seven young stewards came. They ate as if they had fasted a week in anticipation of such a feast. When the next quarterly meeting came round the minister was handed by the church treasurer a bill for three dollars for the turkey. It was credited as one year's quarterage of the steward and charged as cash upon the pastor's salary.

"Let me see," said the minister; "how much did that turkey weigh?"

"Fifteen pounds."

" What is turkey worth a pound ? 99

" Fifteen cents."

The Donation Party.

" Then the turkey was worth two dollars and twentycents. That makes the pumpkin pie cost me seventyfive cents. The turkey is all right, but pumpkin pies are too great luxuries and a little too expensive for a family as large as ours at Thanksgiving. 7 '

Chapter III. The Donation Party

FOP three months the pastor had received but $5. He gently reminded the treasurer that funds were low. He had not money enough to buy a postage stamp. He wished to send a letter to the presiding elder. His credit was getting low. He had been dunned two or three times by the members of the official board with w r hom he had run an account for his necessary living. Some one suggested a donation party. The idea took. The cheerful occasion is best described by the victim himself. The account was not published in The Christian Advocate ; we obtained it from the presiding elder. Here it is :

" Dear Brother : We have had a donation. I have read of donation parties as painted in glowing colors by grateful recipients of overwhelming bounty.

When I read the newspaper reports, how I envied the pastors who had been ' pounded ' and ' silvered,' and I wondered why I had been deprived of this delightful experience. I have no longer been deprived. I wish I had been. Our donation did not quite come up to my ideal. But then this is my first. I may get used to them in time. I wanted to mail you a letter, but had not money enough to buy a stamp. I gently hinted to our treasurer that money was scarce. I asked him if there was money enough in the treasury to send a letter to the presiding elder. He soberly replied, ' J^o ; but I think there is enough to send a postal card. We are getting you up a donation, and then you will be all right.'

"Turkeys, chickens, hams, barrels of flour, suits of clothes, and purses of money in kaleidoscope form passed before my eyes continually. They haunted me with tantalizing day-dreams and gave me the nightmare at night. The day I first heard about it -I hurried home. I threw my hat in one corner of the room and my overcoat in the other. I took my little wife in my arms and danced her all around the room, Sunday as it was. She wanted to know if I was crazy ; if I knew what day it was. I said :

" ' We are to have a donation. I will have a new suit of clothes. You will have a new dress. We

The Donation Party.

will have a purse full of money. Our people do appreciate us after all.'

" I felt a little hurt that she seemed to take it so coolly, and asked her if she was not glad. She said she would wait until it was over before she expressed her opinion.

" I went to the market and bought — on credit, for I had no money — what I thought we would need to provide entertainment for those who might come. My wife worked late and early until she was all worn oat and ready to go to bed with a sick headache. Despite her weariness and my dread of the debt incurred we both took great pride in the result of her labors. Chickens roasted, hams boiled, pies and cakes without number. Toward evening of the fateful day a committee of ladies came in and said we were to turn the house over to them. We did. The people came nocking in until the house was filled to overflowing. The old ladies were a little inquisitive and the young people were a little boisterous. But I consoled myself with the thought that donations do not come every day. A royal feast was spread. I was a little anxious when I saw there was nothing upon the table but what we had prepared. I was too excited and my wife was too ill to eat. But such appetites as our dear people had ! My wife's cooking was complimented in the most nattering terms. One good brother said : ' One look at this table ought to set at rest forever all insinuations that we do not treat our minister well. A man who can entertain his friends with such a feast as this is remarkably well provided for. My dear brother, you are to be congratulated.'

" After supper the Sunday-school superintendent made a very pleasant little speech, and in the name of my many friends in the church and community presented me with an envelope containing a sum of money. It was too much for me. My self-command failed me, and I wept. In a few broken words I expressed my thanks.

" We were soon alone. My wife desired to retire at once, but I insisted upon seeing what presents we had received. We went to the dining-room and found the table covered with the fragments that remained of our royal feast that were not trampled upon the floor. The dishes were unwashed and piled in a heap. We went into the pantry. All the chickens, pies, and cakes my wife had prepared had disappeared. In their place I found one pumpkin, a plate of doughnuts, and one mouldy mince-pie. We went to the cellar and found one peck of small potatoes and one more pumpkin, which the boys had marred a little by

The Donation Party.

using as a foot-ball. We went into my study. I found upon the back of my study-chair a cotton dressing-gown of bright colors and flaring figure. It was big enough for both of us. On my desk was a pair of carpet slippers, a little large and a little worn, and one flannel pen-wiper. My gold pen was gone. We went into the chamber. We found one small cotton handkerchief, a little soiled, four rolling-pins (old ones), and three potato-mashers (old ones). We went into the parlor. Our large parlor lamp was broken and the oil was all over the carpet. A walnut centertable was tipped over and one leg was broken off. The mirror was cracked, and a choice picture was soiled with dirty finger-marks. Three valuable books, soiled and badly torn, were lying on the floor. I remembered the young folks had been playing 'Copenhagen.' I was angry and clenched my hand, and found the envelope which I had forgotten. I opened it and found $1.32. The first glance showed one counterfeit quarter and one that was plugged. When I remembered how I had wept I was hardly able to control myself. To make things seem more aggravating, I remembered that after they had tired themselves out playing 'Copenhagen' they sang, ' There is rest for the weary.' I hoped at the time it betokened religious interest, now I was sure it was because there was nothing more to eat and no more deviltry they could perpetrate. The next day my treasurer waited upon me and presented me with a paper headed.

ACCOUNT OF DONATION.

Rev. Mr. to Church Treasurer, Dr.

Cash $1 32

One dressing-gown 5 00

Two pumpkins 50

One pair slippers To

Four rolling-pins 1 00

Three potato-mashers 75

One handkerchief 25

One peck of potatoes 25

One plate of doughnuts 15

One mince-pie 20

One pen-wiper 5

Services of ladies 5 00

Total $14 22

" This was credited on my salary as so much cash.

" I prepared a sermon from the text : ' I was a-hunsrered, and ve gave me no meat : I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink : I. was a stranger, and ye took me in : naked, and ye clothed me not.' My wife found the manuscript and burned it. I am glad of it now. but writing the sermon relieved me. I desire to move next Conference — sooner, if possible."

Behold, Thou Art Old.

CHAPTEK IV.

BEHOLD, THOU AKT OLD.

OUE hero was a man of but ordinary parts. He was not learned or eloquent. He never was called to a great pulpit. He was an earnest, practical, faithful minister of the Gospel. He left every church better than he found it. He was instrumental in the conversion of many souls. He married a devoted Christian lady. God gave them several children. To his great consternation his meager salary did not increase as did his family. His income was always small. It was generally estimated, in accordance with the Discipline, at no more than enough for his support. Compelled to incur extra expense in dress, books, and papers, his receipts were about equal to the day-laborer. If by frugality and selfdenial a little sum began to accumulate for a rainy day, sickness or pressing calls for charity soon extinguished it. Frequently the small salary estimated was partly paid in useless presents or undesired produce at exorbitant prices. As frequently, by the neglect or indifference of the stewards, a portion of the small salary was unpaid at the end of the year. These deficiencies were small sums in each year, but became a large amount in the aggregate as the years passed by.

The father of our hero after several years became reconciled to his son's choice of a profession. During a visit to his son he was converted and became an ardent Methodist. He became a generous giver to all church institutions. At his death, which occurred a few years after his conversion, he gave a large share of his modest fortune to the various benevolences of Methodism. The son's share of his father's estate was invested, at the suggestion of a friendly Methodist financier, in a silver mining company, and vanished when the bubble burst.

When the children began to incur the expense incidental to education many were the sacrifices required of parents and children to make both ends meet. Unkind remarks frequently reached the parsonage about the miserly disposition manifested by shabby attire and scanty patronage of the grocer. Lines in the pastor's brow and the white cheeks of the pastor's wife were the only signs that the gossip was heard. The only son who reached manhood sought to work his way through college. Too proud to make his wants known, he went thinly clad and poorly fed, and broke down before graduation. After a long illness the parents were broken-hearted to see in him their

Behold, Thou Art Old.

hopes extinguished. The only daughter who reached womanhood refused an offer of marriage from a worthy young man she loved, and upon the death of her brother put her young shoulder under the burden that was crushing her parents.

The Annual Conference which witnessed the twenty-fifth anniversary of our friend's entrance upon the ministry was an eventful one.

It was his birthday week as well. The presiding elder said to the bishop :

" I have no place upon my district for this man. He is a good preacher. He has been a successful minister. He has always left his churches in better condition than he found them. He is fifty years old; he is quite gray ; he is not as active as he once was ; his wife is in delicate health and cannot take an active interest in the parish work. I have tried to induce a number of churches upon my district to accept him, but all in vain. The cry is for young men. The young people are coming to the front in the management of the churches, and they demand youthful bloom, fire, and enthusiasm in the minister. Yery few of them will consent to have an old man."

By exchange a place was found upon another district. He was sent to a remote country village church which had asked for a young man. They preferred a single man, but would accept a married man without a family. The community was in a ferment when they saw the gray-haired pastor and his almost invalid wife. At first they threatened not to receive him, but at last yielded to the presiding elder with very poor grace. The salary was estimated at a sum about enough for the support of a single man. The expenses of the long move and the reduction in the salary made the year one of pinching poverty. Both pastor and people petitioned for a change at the end of the year. The year was almost an utter failure. Another place was found for the minister with great difficulty. Again the church had asked for a young man and received an old one.