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diff --git a/23003-h/23003-h.htm b/23003-h/23003-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..22c0844 --- /dev/null +++ b/23003-h/23003-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1127 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The New Minister's Great Opportunity, by Heman White Chaplin + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Minister's Great Opportunity, by +Heman White Chaplin + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The New Minister's Great Opportunity + First published in the "Century Magazine" + +Author: Heman White Chaplin + +Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23003] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MINISTER'S GREAT OPPORTUNITY *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE NEW MINISTER'S GREAT OPPORTUNITY. + </h1> + <p> + <b> By Heman White Chaplin </b> 1887 <br /> <br /> First published in the + “Century Magazine.” <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “The minister's got a job,” said Mr. Snell. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Snell had been driven in by a shower from the painting of a barn, and + was now sitting, with one bedaubed overall leg crossed over the other, in + Mr. Hamblin's shop. + </p> + <p> + Half-a-dozen other men, who had likewise found in the rain a call to + leisure, looked up at him inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” said Mr. Noyes, who sat beside him, girt with a + nail-pocket. “'The minister 's got a job'? How do you mean?” And Mr. Noyes + assumed a listener's air, and stroked his thin yellow beard. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Snell smiled, with half-shut, knowing eyes, but made no answer. + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean?” repeated Mr. Noyes; “'The minister's got a job'—of + course he has—got a stiddy job. We knew that before.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Mr. Snell, with a placid face; “seeing's you know so + much about it, enough said. Let it rest right there.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Mr. Noyes, nervously blowing his nose; “you lay down this + proposition: 'The minister's got a job.' Now I ask, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Snell uncrossed his legs, and stooped to pick up a last, which he + proceeded to scan with a shrewd, critical eye. + </p> + <p> + “Narrer foot,” he said to Mr. Hamblin. + </p> + <p> + “Private last—Dr. Hunter's,” said Mr. Hamblin, laying down a boot + upon which he was stitching an outer-sole, and rising to make a ponderous, + elephantine excursion across the quaking shop to the earthen + water-pitcher, from which he took a generous draught. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Brother Snell,” said Mr. Noyes,—they were members together of + a secret organization, of which Mr. Snell was P. G. W. T. F.,—“ain't + you going to tell us? What—is this job? That is to say, what—er—is + it?” + </p> + <p> + Brother Snell set his thumbs firmly in the armholes of his waistcoat, + surveyed the smoke-stained pictures pasted on the wall, looked keen, and + softly whistled. + </p> + <p> + At last he condescended to explain. + </p> + <p> + “Preaching Uncle Capen's funeral sermon.” + </p> + <p> + There was a subdued general laugh. Even Mr. Hamblin's leathern apron + shook. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Noyes, however, painfully looking down upon his beard to draw out a + white hair, maintained his serious expression. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see much 'job' in that,” he said; “a minister's supposed to + preach a hundred and four sermons in each and every year, and there's + plenty more where they come from. What's one sermon more or less, when + stock costs nothing? It's like wheeling gravel from the pit.” + </p> + <p> + “O.K.,” said Mr. Snell; “if 't aint no trouble, then 't ain't But seeing's + you know, suppose you specify the materials for this particular + discourse.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Noyes looked a little disconcerted. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said; “of course, I can't set here and compose a funereal + discourse, off-hand, without no writing-desk; but there's stock enough to + make a sermon of, any time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come,” said Mr. Snell, “don't sneak out: particularize.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Mr. Noyes, “you 've only to open the leds of your Bible, and + choose a text, and then: When did this happen? Why did this happen? To who + did this happen? and so forth and so on; and there's your sermon. I 've + heard 'em so a hunderd times.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Mr. Snell; “I don't doubt you know; but as for me, I for + one never happened to hear of anything that Uncle Capen did but whitewash + and saw wood. Now what sort of an autobiographical sermon could you make + out of sawing wood?” + </p> + <p> + Whereat Leander Buffum proceeded, by that harsh, guttural noise well known + to country boys, to imitate the sound of sawing through a log. His sally + was warmly greeted. + </p> + <p> + “The minister might narrate,” said Mr. Blood, “what Uncle Capen said to + Issachar, when Issachar told him that he charged high for sawing wood. + 'See here,' says Uncle Capen, 's'pos'n I do. My arms are shorter'n other + folks's, and it takes me just so much longer to do it.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Noyes, “I'm a fair man; always do exactly right is the + rule I go by; and I will frankly admit, now and here, that if it's a + biographical discourse they want, they 'll have to cut corners.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Pre-cise-ly</i>” said Mr. Snell; “and that's just what they do want.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said Mr. Hamblin, laboriously rising and putting his + spectacles into their silver case,—for it was supper-time,—“joking + one side, if Uncle Capen never did set the pond afire, we 'd all rather + take his chances to-day, I guess, than those of some smarter men.” + </p> + <p> + At which Mr. Snell turned red; for he was a very smart man and had just + failed,—to everybody's surprise, since there was no reason in the + world why he should fail,—and had created more merriment for the + public than joy among his creditors, by paying a cent and a half on the + dollar. + </p> + <p> + “Come in; sit down,” said Dr. Hunter, as the young minister appeared at + his office door; and he tipped back in his chair, and put his feet upon a + table. “What's the news?” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” said Mr. Holt, laughing, as he laid down his hat and took an + arm-chair; “you told me to come to you for any information. Now I want + materials for a sermon on old Mr. Capen.” + </p> + <p> + The Doctor looked at him with a half-amused expression, and then sending + out a curl of blue smoke, he watched it as it rose melting into the + general air. + </p> + <p> + “You don't smoke, I believe?” he said to the minister. + </p> + <p> + Holt smiled and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + The Doctor put his cigar back into his mouth, clasped one knee in his + hands, and fixed his eyes in meditation on a one-eared Hippocrates looking + down with a dirty face from the top of a bookcase. Perhaps the Doctor was + thinking of the two or three hundred complimentary visits he had been + permitted to make upon Uncle Capen within ten years. + </p> + <p> + Presently a smile broke over his face. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you, before I forget it,” he said, “how Uncle Capen nursed + one of my patients. Years and years ago, I had John Ellis, our postmaster + now, down with a fever. One night Uncle Capen watched—you know he + was spry and active till he was ninety. Every hour he was to give Ellis a + little ice-water; and when the first time came, he took a table-spoonful—there + was only a dim light in the room—and poured the ice-water down + Ellis's neck. Well, Ellis jumped, as much as so sick a man could, and then + lifted his finger to his lips: 'Here 's my mouth,' said he. 'Why, why,' + said Uncle Capen, 'is that your mouth? I took that for a wrinkle in your + forehead.” + </p> + <p> + The minister laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard a score of such stories to-day,” he said; “there seem to be + enough of them; but I can't find anything adapted to a sermon, and yet + they seem to expect a detailed biography.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that's just the trouble,” said the Doctor. “But let us go into the + house; my wife remembers everything that ever happens, and she can post + you up on Uncle Capen, if anybody can.” + </p> + <p> + So they crossed the door-yard into the house. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hunter was sewing; a neighbor, come to tea, was crocheting wristers + for her grandson. + </p> + <p> + They were both talking at once as the Doctor opened the sitting-room door. + </p> + <p> + “Since neither of you appears to be listening,” he said, as they started + up, “I shall not apologize for interrupting. Mr. Holt is collecting facts + about Uncle Capen for his funeral sermon, and I thought that my good wife + could help him out, if anybody could. So I will leave him.” + </p> + <p> + And the Doctor, nodding, went into the hall for his coat and + driving-gloves, and, going out, disappeared about the corner of the house. + </p> + <p> + “You will really oblige me very much, Mrs. Hunter,” said the minister, “—or + Mrs. French,—if you can give me any particulars about old Mr. + Capen's life. His family seem to be rather sensitive, and they depend on a + long, old-fashioned funeral sermon; and here I am utterly bare of facts.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” said Mrs. Hunter; “of course, now—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; everybody knows all about him,” said Mrs. French. + </p> + <p> + And then they laid their work down and relapsed into meditation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Mrs. Hunter, in a moment. “No, though—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you know,” said Mrs. French,—“no—I guess, on the whole—” + </p> + <p> + “You remember,” said the Doctor's wife to Mrs. French, with a faint smile, + “the time he papered my east chamber—don't you—how he made the + pattern come?” + </p> + <p> + And then they both laughed gently for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have always known him,” said Mrs. French. “But really, being + asked so suddenly, it seems to drive everything out of my head.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Hunter, “and it's odd that I can't think of exactly the + thing, just at this min-ute; but if I do, I will run over to the parsonage + this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, so will I,” said Mrs. French; “I know that I shall think of oceans + of things just as soon as you are gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you stay to tea?” said Mrs. Hunter, as Holt rose to go. “The Doctor + has gone; but we never count on him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I thank you,” said Mr. Holt. “If I am to invent a biography, I may as + well be at it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hunter went with him to the door. + </p> + <p> + “I must just tell you,” she said, “one of Uncle Capen's sayings. It was + long ago, at the time I was married and first came here. I had a young + men's Bible-class in Sunday-school, and Uncle Capen came into it. He + always wore a cap, and sat at meetings with the boys. So, one Sunday, we + had in the lesson that verse,—you know,—that if all these + things should be written, even the world itself could not contain the + books that should be written; and there Uncle Capen stopped me, and said + he, 'I suppose that means the world as known to the ancients?'” + </p> + <p> + Holt put on his hat, and with a smile turned and went on his way toward + the parsonage; but he remembered that he had promised to call at what the + local paper termed “the late residence of the deceased,” where, on the one + hundredth birthday of the centenarian, according to the poet's corner,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Friends, neighbors, and visitors he did receive + From early in the morning till dewy eve.” + </pre> + <p> + So he turned his steps in that direction. He opened the clicking latch of + the gate and rattled the knocker on the front door of the little cottage; + and a tall, motherly woman of the neighborhood appeared and ushered him + in. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Capen's unmarried daughter, a woman of sixty, her two brothers and + their wives, and half-a-dozen neighbors were sitting in the tidy kitchen, + where a crackling wood-fire in the stove was suggesting a hospitable cup + of tea. + </p> + <p> + The ministers appearance, breaking the formal gloom, was welcomed. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Miss Maria, “I suppose the sermon is all writ by this time. I + think likely you 've come down to read it to us.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Holt, “I have left the actual writing of it till I get all my + facts. I thought perhaps you might have thought of something else.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I told you everything there was about father yesterday,” she said. “I + 'm sure you can't lack of things to put in; why, father lived a hundred + years—and longer, too, for he was a hundred years and six days, you + remember.” + </p> + <p> + “You know,” said Holt, “there are a great many things that are very + interesting to a man's immediate friends that don't interest the public.” + And he looked to Mr. Small for confirmation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that 's so,” said Mr. Small, nodding wisely. + </p> + <p> + “But, you see, father was a centenarian,” said Maria, “and so that makes + everything about him interesting. It's a lesson to the young, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, that's so,” said Mr. Small, “if a man lives to be a centurion.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you all knew our good friend,” said Mr. Holt. “If any of you will + suggest anything, I shall be very glad to put it in.” + </p> + <p> + Nobody spoke for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “There's one interesting thing,” said one of the sons, a little old man + much like his father; “that is, that none of his children have ever gone + meandering off; we've all remained”—he might almost have said + remained seated—“all our lives, right about him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will allude to that,” said Mr. Holt. “I hope you have something else, + for I am afraid of running short of material: you see I am a stranger + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I hope there won't be any trouble about it,” said Maria, in sudden + consternation. “I was a little afraid to give it out to so young a man as + you, and I thought some of giving the preference to Father Cobb, but I did + n't quite like to have it go out of the village, nor to deprive you of the + opportunity; and they all assured me that you was smart. But if you 're + feeling nervous, perhaps we 'd better have him still; he 's always ready.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as you like,” said Holt, modestly; “if he would be willing to preach + the sermon, we might leave it that way, and I will add a few remarks.” But + Maria's zeal for Father Cobb was a flash in the pan. He was a sickly + farmer, a licensed preacher, who, when he was called upon occasionally to + meet a sudden exigency, usually preached on the beheading of John the + Baptist. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you 've got things enough to write,” said Maria, consolingly; + “you know how awfully a thing doos drag out when you come to write it down + on paper. Remember to tell how we 've all stayed right here.” + </p> + <p> + When Holt went out, he saw Mr. Small beckoning him to come to where his + green wagon stood under a tree. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you,” he said, with an awkwardly repressed smile, “about a + trade of Uncle Capen's. He had a little lot up our way that they wanted + for a schoolhouse, and he agreed to sell it for what it cost him, and the + selectmen, knowing what it cost him,—fifty dollars,—agreed + with him that way. But come to sign the deed, he called for a hundred + dollars. 'How 's that,' says they; 'you bought it of Captain Sam Bowen for + fifty dollars.' 'Yes, but see here,' says Uncle Capen, 'it's cost me on an + average five dollars a year, for the ten year I 've had it, for manure and + ploughing and seed, and that's fifty dollars more.' But you 've sold the + garden stuff off it, and had the money,' says they. 'Yes,' says Uncle + Capen, 'but that money 's spent and eat up long ago!'” + </p> + <p> + The minister smiled, shook hands with Mr. Small, and went home. + </p> + <p> + The church was crowded. Horses filled the sheds, horses were tied to the + fences all up and down the street. Funerals are always popular in the + country, and this one had a double element of attractiveness. The whole + population of the town, having watched with a lively interest, for years + back, Uncle Capen's progress to his hundredth birthday, expected now some + electrical effect, analogous to an apotheosis. + </p> + <p> + In the front pews were the chief mourners, filled with the sweet + intoxication of pre-eminence. + </p> + <p> + The opening exercises were finished, a hymn was sung,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Life is a span,” + </pre> + <p> + and Father Cobb arose to make his introductory remarks. + </p> + <p> + He began with some reminiscences of the first time he saw Uncle Capen, + some thirty years before, and spoke of having viewed him even then as an + aged man, and of having remarked to him that he was walking down the + valley of life with one foot in the grave. He called attention to Uncle + Capen's virtues, and pointed out their connection with his longevity. He + had not smoked for some forty years; therefore, if the youth who were + present desired to attain his age, let them not smoke. He had been a total + abstainer, moreover, from his seventieth year; let them, if they would + rival his longevity, follow his example. The good man closed with a + feeling allusion to the relatives, in the front pew, mourning like the + disciples of John the Baptist after his “beheadment” Another hymn was + sung,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “A vapor brief and swiftly gone.” + </pre> + <p> + Then there was deep silence as the minister rose and gave out his text: “<i>I + have been young, and now I am old</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “At the time of the grand review in Washington,” he said, “that mighty + pageant that fittingly closed the drama of the war, I was a spectator, + crippled then by a gun-shot wound, and unable to march. From an upper + window I saw that host file by, about to record its greatest triumph by + melting quietly into the general citizenship,—a mighty, resistless + army about to fade and leave no trace, except here and there a one-armed + man, or a blue flannel jacket behind a plough. Often now, when I close my + eyes, that picture rises: that gallant host, those tattered flags; and I + hear the shouts that rose when my brigade, with their flaming scarfs, went + trooping by. Little as I may have done, as a humble member of that army, + no earthly treasure could buy from me the thought of my fellowship with + it, or even the memory of that great review. + </p> + <p> + “But that display was mere tinsel show compared with the great pageant + that has moved before those few men who have lived through the whole + length of the past hundred years. + </p> + <p> + “Before me lies the form of a man who, though he has passed his days with + no distinction but that of an honest man, has lived through some of the + most remarkable events of all the ages. For a hundred years a mighty + pageant has been passing before him. I would rather have lived that + hundred years than any other. I am deeply touched to reflect that he who + lately inhabited this cold tenement of clay connects our generation with + that of Washington. And it is impossible to speak of one whose great age + draws together this assembly, without recalling events through which he + lived. + </p> + <p> + “Our friend was born in this village. This town then included the + adjoining towns to the north and south. The region was then more sparsely + settled, although many houses standing then have disappeared. While he was + sleeping peacefully in the cradle, while he was opening on the world + childhood's wide, wondering eyes, those great men whose names are our + perpetual benediction were planning for freedom from a foreign yoke. While + he was passing through the happy years of early-childhood, the fierce + clash of arms resounded through the little strip of territory which then + made up the United States. I can hardly realize that, as a child, he heard + as a fresh, new, real story, of the deeds of Lexington, from the lips of + men then young who had been in the fight, or listened as one of an eager + group gathered about the fireside, or in the old, now deserted tavern on + the turnpike, to the story of Bunker Hill. + </p> + <p> + “And when, the yoke of tyranny thrown off, in our country and in France, + Lafayette, the mere mention of whose name brings tears to the eyes of + every true American, came to see the America that he loved and that loved + him, he on whose cold, rigid face I now look down, joined in one of those + enthusiastic throngs that made the visit like a Roman Triumph. + </p> + <p> + “But turn to the world of Nature, and think of the panoramic scenes that + have passed before those now impassive eyes. In our friend's boyhood there + was no practical mode of swift communication of news. In great + emergencies, to be sure, some patriot hand might flash the beacon-light + from a lofty tower; but news crept slowly over our hand-breath nation, and + it was months after a presidential election before the result was + generally known. He lived to see the telegraph flashing swiftly about the + globe, annihilating time and space and bringing the scattered nations into + greater unity. + </p> + <p> + “And think, my hearers, for one moment, of the wonders of electricity. + Here is a power which we name but do not know; which flashes through the + sky, shatters great trees, burns buildings, strikes men dead in the + fields; and we have learned to lead it, all unseen, from our house-tops to + the earth; we tame this mighty, secret, unknown power into serving us as a + a daily messenger; and no man sets the limits now to the servitude that we + shall yet bind it down to. + </p> + <p> + “Again, my hearers, when our friend was well advanced in life, there was + still no better mode of travel between distant points than the slow, + rumbling stage-coach; many who are here remember well its delays and + discomforts. He saw the first tentative efforts of that mighty factor + steam to transport more swiftly. He saw the first railroad built in the + country; he lived to see the land covered with the iron net-work. + </p> + <p> + “And what a transition is this! Pause for a moment to consider it. How + much does this imply. With the late improvements in agricultural + machinery, with the cheapening of steel rails, the boundless prairie farms + of the West are now brought into competition with the fields of Great + Britain in supplying the Englishman's table, and seem not unlikely, within + this generation, to break down the aristocratic holding of land, and so + perhaps to undermine aristocracy itself.” + </p> + <p> + So the preacher continued, speaking of different improvements, and lastly + of the invention of daguerreotypes and photographs. He called the + attention of his hearers to this almost miraculous art of indelibly fixing + the expression of a countenance, and drew a lesson as to the permanent + effect of our daily looks and expression on those among whom we live. He + considered at length the vast amount of happiness which had been caused by + bringing pictures of loved ones within the reach of all; the increase of + family affection and general good feeling which must have resulted from + the invention; he suggested a possible change in the civilization of the + older nations through the constant sending home, by prosperous adopted + citizens, of photographs of themselves and of their homes, and alluded to + the effect which this must have had upon immigration. + </p> + <p> + Finally he adverted to the fact that the sons of the deceased, who sat + before him, had not yielded to the restless spirit of adventure, but had + found “no place like home.” + </p> + <p> + “But I fear,” he said at last, “that the interest of my subject has made + me transgress upon your patience; and with a word or two more I will + close. + </p> + <p> + “When we remember what hard, trying things often arise within a single + day, let us rightly estimate the patient well-doing of a man who has lived + a blameless life for a hundred years. When we remember what harm, what + sin, can be crowded into a single moment, let us rightly estimate the + principle that kept him so close to the Golden Rule, not for a day, not + for a decade or a generation, but for a hundred years. + </p> + <p> + “And now, as we are about to lay his deserted body in the earth, let not + our perceptions be dulled by the constant repetition in this world of + death and burial. At this hour our friend is no longer aged; wrinkles and + furrows, trembling limbs and snowy locks he has left behind him, and he + knows, we believe, to-day, more than the wisest philosopher on earth. We + may study and argue, all our lives, to discover the nature of life, or the + form it takes beyond the grave; but in one moment of swift transition the + righteous man may learn it all. We differ widely one from another, here, + in mental power. A slight hardening of some tissue of the brain might have + left a Shakspeare an attorney's clerk. But, in the brighter world, no such + impediments prevent, I believe, clear vision and clear expression; and + differences of mind that seem world-wide here, may vanish there. When the + spirit breaks its earthly prison and flies away, who can tell how bright + and free the humblest of us may come to be! There may be a more varied + truth than we commonly think, in the words,—'The last shall be + first.' + </p> + <p> + “Let this day be remembered. Let us think of the vast display of Nature's + forces which was made within the long period of our old neighbor's life; + but let us also reflect upon the bright pageant that is now unrolling + itself before him in a better world.” + </p> + <p> + That evening Miss Maria and her brothers, sitting in state in the little + old house, received many a caller; and the conversation was chiefly upon + one theme,—not the funeral sermon, although that was commended as a + frank and simple biographical discourse, but the great events which had + accompanied Uncle Capen's progress through this world, almost like those + which Horace records in his Ode to Augustus. + </p> + <p> + “That's trew, every word,” said Apollos Carver; “when Uncle Capen was a + boy there wasn't not one railroad in the hull breadth of the United + States, and just think: why now you can go in a Pullerman car clear'n + acrost to San Francisco. My daughter lives in Oakland, just acrost a ferry + from there.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, there 's photographing,” said Captain Abel. “It doos seem + amazing, as the minister said: you set down, and square yourself, and + slick your hair, and stare stiddy into a funnel, and a man ducks his head + under a covering, and pop! there you be, as natural as life,—if not + more so. And when Uncle Capen was a young man, there wasn't nothing but + portraits and minnytures, and these black-paper-and-scissors portraits,—what + do they call 'em? Yes, sir, all that come in under his observation.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said one of the sons, “'tis wonderful; my wife and me was took + setting on a settee in the Garding of Eden,—lions and tigers and + other scriptural objects in the background.” + </p> + <p> + “And don't forget the telegrapht,” said Maria; “don't forget that.” + </p> + <p> + “Trew,” said Apollos, “that's another thing. I hed a message come once-t + from my son that lives to Taunton. We was all so sca't and faint when we + see it, that we did n't none of us dast to open it, and finally the feller + that druv over with it hed to open it fur us.” + </p> + <p> + “What was there in it?” said Mr. Small; “sickness?—death?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he wanted his thick coat expressed up. But my wife didn't get over + the shock for some time. Wonderful thing, that telegraph—here's a + man standing a hundred miles off, like enough, and harpooning an idea + chock right into your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Then that was a beautiful truth,” said Maria: “that father and Shakspeare + would like enough be changed right round, in Heaven; I always said father + wasn't appreciated here.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Apollos, “'tis always so; we don't begin to realize the value + of a thing tell we lose it. Now that we sort o' stand and gaze at Uncle + Capen at a fair distance, as it were, he looms. Ef he only hed n't kep' so + quiet, always, about them 'ere wonders. A man really ought, in justice to + himself, to blow his own horn—jest a little. But that was a grand + discourse, wa'n't it, now?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Maria, “though I did feel nervous for the young man. + Still, when you come to think what materials he had to make a sermon out + of,—why, how could he help it! And yet, I doubt not he takes all the + credit to himself.” + </p> + <p> + “I should really have liked to have heard Father Cobb treat the subject,” + said Mrs. Small, rising to go, and nodding to her husband. “'T was a grand + theme. But 't was a real chance for the new minister. Such an opportunity + doesn't happen not once in a lifetime.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning, after breakfast, on his way home from the post-office, + the minister stopped in at Dr. Hunter's office. The Doctor was reading a + newspaper. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Holt took a chair in silence. + </p> + <p> + The Doctor laid down the paper and eyed him quizzically, and then slowly + shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about you ministers,” he said. “I attended the funeral; I + heard the biographical discourse; I understand it gave great satisfaction; + I have reflected on it over night; and now, what I want to know is, what + on earth 'there was in it about Uncle Capen.” + </p> + <p> + The minister smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” he replied, “that all that I said about Uncle Capen was + strictly true.” + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Minister's Great Opportunity, by +Heman White Chaplin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MINISTER'S GREAT OPPORTUNITY *** + +***** This file should be named 23003-h.htm or 23003-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/0/0/23003/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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