THE APPOINTMENT.
In the uplands of Canada was an attractive church with a spire that pointed longing souls to the skies, and the pastor of which had finished his course with joy and was now joining in the hallelujah choruses of the upper sanctuary. The authorities of the denomination to which the church belonged appointed a man to its pulpit who was progressive and independent, as well as being very broad-minded. The necessity for this lay in the fact that the population of the place represented nearly all the languages and creeds to be found in the Dominion, and consequently if a man of narrow views were appointed he would soon make shipwreck of everything.
The new minister, as well as being broad and advanced, was very honorable, and would not in any way infringe upon the rights of others; but as Mount Zion was the only church in the place, he was perfectly safe from any charge of meanness, in the form of coaxing sheep away from a brother's fold. The first Sunday came upon which the Rev. Thomas Melvin was to occupy his new pulpit, and an immense congregation filled every part of the edifice. The text was from the Saviour's words, "Feed my sheep," and the preacher had not gone far when his attentive hearers discovered that he was a man of great intellect and unusual power as a speaker, and they were swayed as corn-stalks in a tempest as he reasoned of the Saviour's place in the world, and of His work, and also of man's obligations to Him, as well as to his fellows.
All through the week this first fearless and powerful sermon was the talk of all who had heard it. Some, however, did not like it, as telling them of their duty caused indigestion, while others were delighted, as they loved a man who shunned not to declare all counsel, whether pleasing or displeasing. The next Sabbath disclosed the fact that Mr. Melvin was no plug either, as he said things outside the scope of the Bible and over the boundary line of prescribed theology. One old gentleman who occupied a front seat in the church, and who was of portly mould and genial disposition, and whose dinners were really of more account in his estimation than anything else, forgot said feasts for a period sufficiently long to say: "My songs! I wonder what that new preacher means, anyway!"
Next day our friend, who was dean of the dinner-table faculty, called on his new pastor and said, after being asked how he liked the sermon on Sunday: "My songs! You said things that my bloomin' brain could 'ardly hunderstand." To tell the truth, Mr. Melvin was something of a statesman as well as a preacher, and with narrow bigots soon became as much hated as he was beloved by the broad and liberal minded. The bigots, however, soon ceased to be. Although those classing themselves as belonging to other denominations were in no case strong enough to form societies, yet they remained loyal to what they claimed allegiance to, but this did not hinder them from frequently hearing Mr. Melvin, who was delighted to see his countrymen, who in some cases spoke the mellow, musical tongue of France, that land of art, science, and literature, and military power. As his congregation was so cosmopolitan and contained representatives of every leading denomination, the pastor of Mount Zion preached the doctrines of the Bible in their broadest sense, and showed their most comprehensive meaning.
Everyone who heard Mount Zion's rector, or pastor, noticed that he was perfectly fearless in depicting the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and having found out that a certain prominent man in the place was very vile in his morals, and had ruined many young lives, and was in the habit of running the rig on good people, and who also was most un-Canadian in his ways, he openly rebuked him for his evil deeds and for not restraining his family. Of course, this exasperated the man, and for a long time he was a persistent enemy of Mount Zion's pastor, but he was yet to find out that the servant of the Galilean would conquer. His sympathies were all of the Mother Goose type, as is the case with most evil men, whose stamina is so exhausted in sinning that they lack the courage to stand alone, and never dare to be Daniels, above everything heeding God's command.
As Rev. Mr. Melvin was the only resident ordained man in the place, he had a great many marriages. Indeed, all the marriages—or rather, marriage ceremonies—were performed by himself and the Rev. Father Trenton, of the Catholic Church, who came occasionally from a neighboring parish to minister to people of his own faith.
Mr. Melvin, after meeting Father Trenton two or three times, decided that he was a man of fine principle and real moral worth, also a strong advocate for total abstinence from cigarettes and strong drink, believing, as a man of culture and science, that the effect of both was pernicious and poisonous, and that on that ground they were to be avoided. The reverend father was a most companionable man, and, as Mr. Melvin said, was a jolly good fellow. he was soon invited to the manse for tea, where a most enjoyable time was spent, and where many a good story was told. There soon came an invitation to Mr. Melvin from Father Trenton to visit him at his home in the next town. The invitation was promptly accepted, and another happy evening whiled away. It was inspiring to all languages and creeds to see the warm and hearty cordiality of feeling that existed between these two broad and liberal-minded men, which taught the world that the elevation of the human race lay not in such senseless antagonisms as existed among our bigoted and foolish ancestors, but in the exercise of a spirit not only of toleration, but of good-fellowship and love.
Some very amusing incidents occurred during the performance of the marriage ceremony. One man, who had previously been received into the Church, and who was asked the question, "Will you renounce the world, the flesh and the evil one?" the answer of which was, "I renounce them all," was asked, "Will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, for better, for worse, in sickness and health, till death you do part?" and in his excitement, having the membership reception in mind, he said, "I renounce them all." On another occasion, while a couple were being yoked together, the groomsman suddenly leaned over and saluted the bride instead of the groom, to the infinite amusement of all present, and causing the face of the latter to take on a crimson hue.