THE CALL.
"HOW much salary do they offer?" asked Mrs. Carroll of her husband,who was sitting near her with a letter in his hand. He had justcommunicated the fact that a Parish was tendered him in the Villageof Y--, distant a little over a hundred and fifty miles.
"The money is your first thought, Edith," said Mr. Carroll, halfchidingly, yet with an affectionate smile.
This remark caused a slight flush to pass over the face of Mrs.Carroll. She replied, glancing, as she did so, towards a bed onwhich lay three children.
"Is it wrong to think of the little ones whom God has given to us?"
"Oh, no! But we must believe that God who calls us to labor in hisvineyard, will feed both us and our children."
"How are we to know that HE calls us, Edward?" inquired Mrs.Carroll.
"I hold the evidence in my hand. This letter from the vestry ofY--Parish contains the call."
"It may be only the call of man."
"Edith!--Edith!--Your faith is weak; weak almost as the expiringflame."
"What do they say in that letter? Will you read it to me."
"Oh, yes." And Mr. Carroll read--
"REV. AND DEAR SIR:--Our Parish has been for some months without aminister. On the recommendation of Bishop--, we have been led tomake you an offer of the vacant place. The members of the church,generally, are in moderate circumstances, and we cannot, therefore,offer anything more than a moderate living. There is a neat littleparsonage, to which is attached a small garden, for the use of theminister. The salary is three hundred dollars. You will find thepeople kind and intelligent, and likewise prepossessed in yourfavor. The Bishop has spoken of you warmly. We should like to hearfrom you as early as convenient.
"Very affectionately, &c. &c."
"Three hundred dollars!" said Mrs. Carroll in a disappointed tone.
"And the parsonage," added Mr. Carroll, quickly.
"Equivalent to sixty or seventy more."
"Equivalent to a hundred dollars more, at least."
"We are doing much better here, Edward."
"True! But are we to look to worldly advantage alone?"
"We have a duty to discharge to our children, which, it seems to me,comes before all other duties."
"God will take care of these tender lambs, Edith, do not fear. Hehas called me to preach his everlasting Gospel, and I have heard andanswered. Now He points to the field of labor, and shall I hold backbecause the wages seem small? I have not so learned my duty. Thoughlions stood in the way, I would walk in it with a fearless heart. Benot afraid. The salvation of souls is a precious work, and they whoare called to the labor will not lack for bread."
"But Edward," said the wife, in a serious voice, "will it be rightfor us to enter any path of life blindfold, as it were? God hasgiven us reason for a guide; and should we not be governed by itsplain dictate?"
"We must walk by faith, Edith, and not by sight," replied Mr.Carroll, in a tone that indicated some small measure of impatience.
"A true faith, dear husband!" said Mrs. Carroll tenderly, while aslight suffusion appeared about her eyes.
"A true faith is ever enlightened and guided by reason. When reasonplainly points the way, faith bids us walk on with unfalteringsteps."
"And does not reason now point the way?" asked Mr. Carroll."
"I think not. From our school we receive nearly seven hundreddollars; and we have not found that sum too large for our support. Iknow that I work very hard, and that I find it as much as I can doto keep all things comfortable."
"But remember that we have rent to pay."
"I know. Still a little over five hundred dollars remain. And thepresent offer is only three hundred. Edward, we cannot live uponthis sum. Think of our three children. And my health, you know, isnot good. I am not so strong as I was, and cannot go through asmuch."
The wife's voice trembled.
"Poor, weak doubter!" said Mr. Carroll, in a tender, yet reprovingvoice. "Does not He who calls us to this labor know our wants? Andis not He able to supply them? Have you forgotten that the earth isthe Lord's and the fullness thereof? Whose are the cattle upon athousand hills? Did not God feed Elijah by ravens? Did the widow'soil fail? Be not doubtful but believing, Edith! And what if we dohave to meet a few hardships, and endure many privations? Are theseto be counted against the salvation of even one precious soul? Theharvest is great, hut the laborers are few."
Mrs. Carroll knew her husband well enough to be assured that if hebelieved it to be his duty to accept a call from Lapland or theIndian Ocean, he would go. Yet, so strongly did both reason andfeeling oppose the contemplated change, that she could not helpspeaking out what was in her mind.
"The day of miracles is past," she replied.
"We must not expect God to send us bread from heaven if we go into awilderness, nor water from the rock, if we wander away to somebarren desert. This Parish of Y--cannot afford living to any but asingle man, and, therefore, it seems to me that none but a singleman should accept their call. Wait longer, Edward. We have everycomfort for our children, and you are engaged in a highly usefulemployment. When the right field for ministerial labor offers, Godwill call you in a manner so clear that you need not feel a doubt onthe subject."
"I feel no doubt now," said Mr. Carroll. "I recognise the voice ofmy Master, and must obey. And I will obey without fear. Our breadwill be given and our water sure. Ah! Edith. If you could only seewith me, eye to eye. If you could only take up your cross hopefully,and walk I by my side, how light would seem all the burden I have tobear?"
Mrs. Carroll felt the words of her husband, as a rebuke. Thissilenced all opposition.
"I know that I am weak and fearful," she murmured, leaning her headupon her husband, and concealing her face. "But I will try to havecourage. If you feel it to be your duty to accept this call, I willgo with you; and, come what may, will not vex your ears by acomplaining word. It was only for our little ones that I felttroubled."
"The Lord will provide, Edith. He never sends any one upon a journeyat his own cost. Fear not: we have the God of harvest on our side."
The will of Mr. Carroll decided in this, as in almost every thingelse. He saw reason to accept the call, and did not therefore,perceive any force in his wife's objections.
The school, from which a comfortable living had been obtained, wasgiven up; an old home and old friends abandoned. Prompt as Mr.Carroll had been to accept the call to Y--, the process ofbreaking up did not take place without some natural feelings comingin to disturb him. How he was to support his wife and children onthree hundred dollars, did not exactly appear. It had cost him,annually, the sum of five hundred, exclusive of rent; and no onecould affirm that he had lived extravagantly. But he dismissed suchunpleasant thoughts by saying, mentally--
"Away with these sinful doubts! I will not be faithless, butbelieving."
As for Mrs. Carroll, who felt, in view of the coming trials andlabor, that she had but little strength; the parting from the oldplace where she had known so many happy hours, gave her deeper painthan she had ever experienced. Strive as she would, she could notkeep up her spirits. She could not feel any assurance for thefuture,--could not put her entire trust in Heaven. To her thehopeful spirit of her husband seemed a blind confidence, and not arational faith. But, even while she felt thus, she condemned herselffor the feeling; and strove--with how little effect!--to walksustainingly by the side of her husband.
THE CHANGE.
Six months have elapsed since Mr Carroll accepted the call to Y--.He has preached faithfully and labored diligently. That was hispart. And he has received, quarterly, on the day it became due, hissalary. That was according to the contract on the other side. Hisconscience is clear on the score of duty; and his parishioners arequite as well satisfied that they have done all that is required ofthem. They offered him three hundred a year and the parsonage. Heaccepted the offer; and, by that act, declared the living to beadequate to his wants. If he was satisfied they were.
"I don't know how he gets along on three hundred dollars," some one,more thoughtful about such matters, would occasionally say. "Itcosts me double that sum, and my family is no larger than his."
"They get a great many presents," would, in all probability, bereplied to this. "Mr. A--, I know, sent them a load of wood sometime ago; a Mr. B--told me that he had sent them a quarter of lamband a bushel of apples. And I have, two or three times, furnishedone little matter and another. I'm sure what is given to them willamount to half as much as Mr. Carroll's salary."
"This makes a difference, of course," is the satisfied answer. Andyet, all told, the presents received by the whole family, in usefularticles, has not reached the value of twenty-five dollars duringsix months. And this has been more than abstracted from them by thekind ladies of the parish, who must needs visit and take tea withthe minister as often as convenient.
Six months had passed since the Rev. Mr. Carroll removed to Y--.It was mid-winter; and a stormy day closed in with as stormy anight. The rays which came through the minister's littlestudy-window grew faint in the pervading shadows, and he could nolonger see with sufficient clearness to continue writing. So he wentdown stairs to the room in which were his wife and children. Theoldest child was a daughter, six years of age, named Edith from hermother. Edward, between three and four years old, and Aggy the baby,made up the number of Mr. Carroll's household treasures. They wereall just of an age to require their mother's attention in everything. As her husband entered the room, Mrs. Carroll said--
"I'm glad you've come down, dear. I can't get Aggy out of my arms aminute. It's nearly supper time, and I havn't been able even to putthe kettle on the fire. She's very fretful."
Mr. Carroll took the baby. His wife threw a shawl over her head, andtaking an empty bucket from the dresser, was passing to the door,when her husband said--
"Stop, stop, Edith! You musn't go for water in this storm. Here,take the baby."
"I can go well enough," replied Mrs. Carroll, and before her husbandcould prevent her, she was out in the blustering air, with thesnowflakes driving in her face.
"Oh, Edith! Edith! Why will you do so?" said her husband, as soon asshe came back.
"It's as easy for me to go as for you," she replied.
"No it isn't, Edith. I am strong to what you are. If you exposeyourself in this way, it will be the death of you."
Mrs. Carroll shook the snow from her shawl and dress, and brushed itfrom her shoes, saying as she did so--
"Oh no! a little matter like this won't hurt me."
She then filled the tea-kettle and placed it over the fire. Afterwhich she set out the table, and busied herself in getting readytheir evening meal. Meanwhile, Mr. Carroll walked the floor withAggy in his arms, both looking and feeling serious; while the twoolder children amused themselves with a picture book.
As the reader has probably anticipated, the "living" (?) atY--proved altogether inadequate to the wants of Mr. Carroll'sfamily; and faith, confidence, and an abstract trust in Providenceby no means sufficed for its increase.
At first, Mrs. Carroll had a servant girl to help her in herhousehold duties, as usual. But she soon found that this would notdo. A dollar and a quarter a week, and the cost of boarding thegirl, took just about one-third of their entire income. So, afterthe first three months, "help" was dispensed with. The washing hadto be put out; which cost half a dollar, weekly. To get some one inthe house to iron, would cost as much more. So Mrs. Carroll tookupon herself the task of ironing all the clothes, in addition to theentire work of the house and care of her three children.
For three months this hard labor was performed; but not without avisible effect. The face of Mrs. Carroll grew thinner; her step lostits lightness; and her voice its cheerful tone. All this her husbandsaw, and saw with intense pain. But, there was no remedy. His incomewas but three hundred dollars a year; and out of that small sum itwas impossible to pay one hundred for the wages and board of a girl,and have enough left for the plainest food and clothing. There was,therefore, no alternative. All that it was in his power to do, wasdone by Mr. Carroll to lighten the heavy burdens under which hiswife was sinking; but it was only a little, in reality, that hecould do; and he was doomed to see her daily wasting away, and herstrength departing from her.
At the time we have introduced them, Mrs. Carroll had begun to showsome symptoms of failing health, that alarmed her husband seriously.She had taken cold, which was followed by a dry, fatiguing cough,and a more than usual prostration of strength. On coming in with herbucket of water from the well, as just mentioned, she did not takeoff her shoes, and brush away the snow that had been pressed inaround the tops against her stockings, but suffered it to lie thereand melt, thus wetting her feet. It was nearly an hour from the timeMr. Carroll came down from his room, before supper was ready. Aggywas, by this time, asleep; so that the mother could pour out the teawithout having, as was usually the case, to hold the baby in herarms.
"Ain't you going to eat anything?" asked Mr. Carroll, seeing thathis wife, whose face looked flushed, only sipped a little tea.
"I don't feel any appetite," replied Mrs. Carroll.
"But you'd better try to eat something, dear."
Just then there was a knock at the door. On opening it, Mr. Carrollfound a messenger with a request for him to go and see a parishionerwho was ill.
"You can't go away there in this storm," said his wife, as soon asthe messenger had retired.
"It's full a mile off."
"I must go, Edith," replied the minister. "If the distance were manymiles instead of one, it would be all the same. Duty calls."
And out into the driving storm the minister went, and toiled on hislonely way through the deep snow to reach the bedside of a sufferingfellow man, who sought spiritual consolation in the hour ofsickness, from one whose temporal wants he had, while in health,shown but little inclination to supply. That consolation offered, heturned his face homeward again, and again breasted the unabatedstorm. He found his wife in bed--something unusual for her at teno'clock--and, on laying his hand upon her face, discovered that shewas in a high fever. In alarm, he went for the doctor, who declinedgoing out, but sent medicine, and promised to come over in themorning.
In the morning Mrs. Carroll was much worse, and unable to rise. Todress the children and get breakfast, Mr. Carroll found to be tasksof no very easy performance for him; and as soon as they werecompleted, he called in a neighbor to stay with his wife while hewent in search of some one to come and take her place in the familyuntil she was able to go about again as usual.
That time, however, did not soon come. Weeks passed before she couldeven sit up, and then she was so susceptible of cold, that even theslightest draft of air into the room affected her; and so weak,that, in attempting to mend a garment for one of her children, theexertion caused her to faint away.
When Mrs. Carroll was taken sick, they had only fifteen dollars oftheir quarter's salary left. It was but two weeks since they hadreceived it, yet nearly all was gone, for twenty-five dollars,borrowed to meet expenses during the last month of the quarter, hadto be paid according to promise: shoes for nearly every member ofthe family had to be purchased, besides warmer clothing forthemselves and children; and several little bills unavoidablycontracted, had to be settled. The extra expense of sickness, addedto the regular demand, soon melted away the trifling balance, andMr. Carroll found himself, with his wife still unable to leave herroom--in fact, scarcely able to sit up--penniless and almosthopeless.--His faith had grown weak--his confidence was gone--hisspirits were broken. Daily he prayed for strength to bear up; for ahigher trust in Providence; for light upon his dark pathway.--But nostrength came, no confidence was created, no light shone upon hisway. And for this we need not wonder. It was no day of miracles, ashis wife had forewarned him. He had, as too many do, hoped forsustenance in a field of labor where reason could find nowell-grounded hope. He knew that he could not live on three hundreda year; yet he had accepted the offer, in the vain hope that allwould come out well!
The last shilling left the hand of the unhappy minister, and atleast six weeks remained before another quarter's salary became due.He could not let his family starve; so, after much thought, hefinally determined to call the vestry together, frankly state hiscase, and tell his brethren that it was impossible for him to liveon the small sum they allowed.
A graver meeting of the vestry of Y--parish had not for a longtime taken place. As for an increase of salary, that was declared tobe out of the question entirely. They had never paid any one overthree hundred dollars, which, with the parsonage, had always beenconsidered a very liberal compensation. They were very sorry for Mr.Carroll, and would advance him a quarter's salary. But all increasewas out of the question. They knew the people would not hear to it.The meeting then broke up, and the official members of the churchwalked gravely away, while Mr. Carroll went home, feeling so sad anddispirited, that he almost wished that he could die.
The Parish of Y--was not rich; though six hundred dollars couldhave been paid to a minister with as little inconvenience to themembers as three hundred. But the latter sum was considered ample;and much surprise was manifested when it was found that the newminister asked for an increase, even before the first year of hisengagement had expired.
The face of his wife had never looked so pale, her cheeks so thin,nor her eyes so sunken, to the minister, as when he came home fromthis mortifying and disheartening meeting of the vestry. One ofthose present was the very person he had gone a mile to visit on thenight of the snow-storm; and he had more to say that hurt him thanany of the rest.
"Edith," said Mr. Carroll, taking the thin hand of his wife, as hesat down by her and looked sadly into her face, "we must leavehere."
"Must we? Why?" she asked, without evincing very marked surprise.
"We cannot live on three hundred a year."
"Where will we go?"
"Heaven only knows! But we cannot remain here!"
And as the minister said this, he bowed his head until his facerested upon the arm of his wife. He tried to hide his emotion, butEdith knew that tears were upon the cheeks of her husband.
THE SEQUEL.
JUST one year has elapsed, since Mr. Carroll accepted the call fromY--. It has been a year of trouble, ending in deep affliction.When the health of Mrs. Carroll yielded under her too heavy burdens,it did not come back again. Steadily she continued to sink, afterthe first brief rallying of her system, until it became hopelesslyapparent that the time of her departure was near at hand. She wastoo fragile a creature to be thrown into the position she occupied.Inheriting a delicate constitution, and raised with even an unwisetenderness, she was no more fitted to be a pastor's wife, with onlythree hundred a year to live upon, than a summer flower is to takethe place of a hardy autumn plant. This her husband should haveknown and taken into the account, before he decided to accept thecall from Y--.
When it was found that Mrs. Carroll, after partially recovering fromher first severe attack, began, gradually to sink; a strong interestin her favor was awakened among the ladies of the congregation, andthey showed her many kind attentions. But all these attentions, andall this kindness, did not touch the radical disability under whichshe was suffering. They did not remove her too heavy weight of careand labor. All the help in her family that she felt justified inemploying, was a girl between fourteen and fifteen years of age, andthis left so much for her to do in the care of her children, and innecessary household duties that she suffered all the time fromextreme physical exhaustion.
In the just conviction of the error he had committed, and while hefelt the hopelessness of his condition, Mr. Carroll, as has beenseen, resolved to leave Y--immediately. This design he hinted toone of the members of his church.
"You engaged with us for a year, did you not?" enquired the member.
That settled the question in the mind of the unhappy minister. Hesaid no more to any one on the subject of his income, or aboutleaving the parish. But his mind was made up not to remain a singleday, after his contract had expired. If in debt at the time, as heknew he must be, he would free himself from the incumbrances byselling a part of his household furniture. Meantime his liveliestfears were aroused for his wife, as symptom after symptom of a rapiddecline, showed themselves. That he did not preach as good sermons,nor visit as freely among his parishioners during the last threemonths of the time he remained at Y--, is no matter of surprise.Some, more considerate than the rest, excused him; but otherscomplained, even to the minister himself. No matter. Mr. Carroll hadtoo much at home to fill his heart to leave room for a troubledpulsation on this account. He was conscience-clear on the score ofobligation to his parishioners.
At last, and this before the year had come to its close, thedrooping wife and mother took to her bed, never again to leave ituntil carried forth by the mourners. We will not pain the reader byany details of the affecting scenes attendant upon the last fewweeks of her mortal life; nor take him to the bed-side of the dyingone, in the hour that she passed away. To state the fact that shedied, is enough--and painful enough.
For all this, it did not occur to the people of Y--that, inanything they had been lacking. They had never given but threehundred a year to a minister, and, as a matter of course, consideredthe sum as much as a reasonable man could expect. As for keeping aclergyman in luxury, and permitting him to get rich; they did notthink it consistent with the office he held, which requiredself-denial and a renouncing of the world. As to how he could liveon so small a sum, that was a question rarely asked; and whenpresented, was put to rest by some backhanded kind of an answer,that left the matter as much in the dark as ever.
Notwithstanding the deep waters of affliction through which Mr.Carroll was required to pass, his Sabbath duties were but onceomitted, and that on the day after he had looked for the last timeupon the face of his lost one. Four Sabbaths more he preached, andthen, in accordance with notice a short time previously given,resigned his pastoral charge. There were many to urge him with greatearnestness not to leave them; but a year's experience enabled himto see clearer than he did before, and to act with greater decision.In the hope of retaining him, the vestry strained a point, andoffered to make the salary three hundred and fifty dollars. But muchto their surprise, the liberal offer was refused.
It happened that the Bishop of the Diocese came to visit Y--a weekbefore Mr. Carroll intended taking his departure with his motherlesschildren, for his old home, where a church had been offered him inconnexion with a school. To him, three or four prominent members ofthe church complained that the minister was mercenary, and lookedmore to the loaves and fishes than to the duty of saving souls.
"Mercenary!" said the Bishop, with a strong expression of surprise.
"Yes, mercenary," repeated his accusers.
"So far from it," said the Bishop, warmly, "he has paid more duringthe year, for supporting the Gospel in Y--, than any five men inthe parish put together."
"Mr. Carroll has!"
"How much do you give?" addressing one.
"I pay ten dollars pew rent, and give ten extra, besides," was theanswer.
"And you," speaking to another.
"The same."
"And you?"
"Thirty dollars, in all."
"While," said the Bishop, speaking with increased warmth, "yourminister gave two hundred dollars."
This, of course, took them greatly by surprise, and they asked foran explanation. "It is given in a few words," returned the Bishop."It cost him, though living in the most frugal manner, five hundreddollars for the year. Of this, you paid three hundred, and he twohundred dollars."
"I don't understand you, Bishop," said one.
"Plainly, then; he was in debt at the end of the year, two hundreddollars, for articles necessary for the health and comfort of hisfamily, to pay which he has sold a large part of his furniture. Hewas not working for himself, but for you, and, therefore, actuallypaid two hundred dollars for the support of the Gospel in Y--,while you paid but twenty or thirty dollars apiece. Under thesecircumstances, my friends, be assured that the charge of beingmercenary, comes with an exceeding bad grace. Nor is this all thathe has sacrificed. An insufficient income threw upon his wife,duties beyond her strength to bear; and she sunk under them. Had youstepped forward in time, and lightened these duties by a simple actof justice, she night still be living to bless her husband andchildren!--Three hundred a year for a man with a wife and threechildren, is not enough; and you know it, my brethren! Not one ofyou could live on less than double the sum."
This rebuke came with a stunning force upon the ears of men who hadexpected the Bishop to agree with them in their complaint, and hadits effect. On the day Mr. Carroll left the village, he received akind and sympathetic letter from the official members of the churchenclosing the sum of two hundred dollars. The first impulse of hisnatural feelings was to return the enclosure, but reflection showedhim that such an act would be wrong; and so he retained it, aftersuch acknowledgments as he deemed the occasion required.
Back to his old home the minister went, but with feelings, howdifferent, alas! from those he had experienced on leaving for Y--.The people among whom he had labored for a year, felt as if they hadamply paid him for all the service he had rendered; in fact hadoverpaid him, as if money, doled out grudgingly, could compensatefor all he had sacrificed and suffered, in his effort to break forthem the Bread of Life.
Here is one of the phases of ministerial life, presented with littleornament or attractiveness. There are many other phases, morepleasant to look upon, and far more flattering to the good opinionwe are all inclined to entertain of ourselves. But it is not alwaysbest to look upon the fairest side. The cold reality of things, itis needful that we should sometimes see. The parish of Y--, doesnot, by any means, stand alone. And Mr. Carroll is not, the only manwho has suffered wrong from the hands of those who called him tominister in spiritual things, yet neglected duly to provide for thenatural and necessary wants of the body.
THE END.
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