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YOUNG MEN, MONEY, AND THE MINISTRY. 139 hands; whatever littleness degrades our spirit will lessen them and drag them down. Whatever noble fire is in our hearts will barn also in our work, whatever purity is ours will chasten and exalt it; for as we are, so our work is, and what we sow in our lives, that, beyond a doubt, we shall reap for good or for ill in the strengthening or defacing of whatever gifts have fallen to our lot.


Young Men, Money, and tħe Ministry.

A MOST revered Baptist minister, after reciting certain facts connected with the condition of the Baptist ministry, said, “In view of all this, for many years, though I have entreated many to embrace the honours of the evangelist, I have not dared to urge one to attempt the pastorate," and he adds," that the pastor's salary is often very small, comes in by driblets, and is rarely complete till some time after quarter day.”

I hope much of this is not true of any of our churches, and that if our ministers' “ salaries are small,” they at least know what they are, and receive the money at the precise date fixed. So far as my knowledge extends our deacons are men of business, and do not fail in this particular. They pay to the day, and pay in full. That the salaries are small, and that pastors have to suffer something, is undeniable; but I do not fancy they chafe very much. I was at a meeting of the men trained in our college the other day, and a happier or more exuberantly contented set of men I never wish to see. Not a word was uttered about insufficient stipends, not a word of complaint against deacons or the churches they serve. They did not expect large salaries. They knew they should not get them; and it was the universal testimony that no work was so blessed as the pastor's. One veteran told us how he started on £50 a year, and created an unusual explosion of amused incredulity by saying that out of that he saved £20. Another began on £60 and saved £10, but added the uncomplimentary qualification that he had not a wife then !! What a mercy for the world that Dr. Maclaren attempted the pastorate on £70 per annum! Who does not rejoice that the unique Robertson was willing to accept £115 per annum at St. Ebbe's, Oxford, and £300 at Brighton! The best work of the world has not been done by those who had the most money. And the CHIEF PASTOR of us all, our Model and Inspiration, who has enriched humanity with unspeakable wealth, was a poor peasant, supported in His ministry by the love gifts of a few devoted women, “ He Himself not having where to lay His head.” And so long as God's gospel is what it is, I cannot believe that men of true grit and full of enthusiasm for Christ and men will hold back from the ministry because they cannot be guaranteed absolute freedom from anxiety as to money. If a man wants money he knows where to go for it, and if he is an observant man he knows that the pulpit is not the place where it is made; but it is quite as well for the world that a few men should be allowed to work for something other than money; and they will not preach with less sympathy for the poor and needy, or pray with feebler fervour for the perplexed, if they have to go through that most terrible and agonizing Gethsemane of the student-pastor, of parting with some of their books to make both ends meet.


Young men of real grit, of strong brain, and loving heart, and severely pure character, I say with all my heart attempt the pastorate. Do not be afraid of the risks. Expect to endure hardness. You want to be strong, sinewy men, and in your strength to serve humanity in its most enduring interests; then enter into the fellowship of suffering with Him who for our sakes became poor so that He might make many rich. I admit it is acutely painful to bear this suffering when it arises, not from the real inability of our churches, but from their thoughtlessness, their want of sympathy, their extravagant expenditure upon personal luxuries, their lack of a due sense of responsibility for the efficiency of the church, or any other cause involving blame; but I am unwilling to believe that this is the case to any large extent, and that in most cases where our pastors suffer needlessly, it arises from want of a little vivid reflection concerning their just claims; and a forgetfulness of the Apostolic teaching, “Let him that is taught in the word communicate unto him that teacheth in all GOOD THINGS. JoHN CLIFFORD.

Öhristians and $ocial jurify.

AT a crowded Conference of Repealers held in London, on December 14th, 1882, Mr. Stansfeld said:—

“What is your duty 7 Mine is clear. My duty is in the House of Commons, I cannot do more ; I would do more if I could. But in the House, I will act. I will do what I can for this cause, and I will do nothing that in my opinion may do the reverse of serving the cause. But I and my friends will be powerless within the House unless we have support from outside. I know the calculations of our enemies: they think this four years' inquiry (Sessions 1879 to 1882 inclusive), during which outside action was impossible, has wearied you. There is no test of conviction perhaps so severe as the test of utter weariness; and they have thought and believed, and at this moment they boast that the agitation is dying out—coming to an end. You may read it between the lines in that part of the Report of the Select Committee which refers to the extension of the Contagious Diseases Acts in the future. Believing the movement for Repeal is dying out, some of the Members of that Committee would seem to have said to themselves “the time to give a man a crushing blow is when he is about to fall,” and they have dealt you through the Report of the Majority a crushing, an outrageous, an insolent blow; dealt in the face of the moral and religious community of this land. It is not for me to read lessons to that community, but what I will say is this; that the whole future of this question in our time depends on your attitude—no, your ACTION. If you are content to sit down under this blow, this insult, this cynical, open, sneering disregard of all the convictions of moral and religious men and women, then I say to you that you will deserve the defeat and the shame which will await you, and that this question will drop from your nerveless and feeble grasp, to be taken up by some future generation of better and stronger women and better and stronger men.



When I first entered upon this cause I appealed to the ministers of all denominations, and I got encouraging responses from them. It remains now, as it was then, my conviction that upon them and the religious bodies they represent it will mainly depend whether we win or lose in our time. They are, if they choose to be, a compelling power within the party to which they belong. They have been the salt of that party; they have done more than any other section of the community for its triumphs in the past and its character in the future ; they have declared these laws to be wickedness and sin, and have demanded their Repeal ; and the Report of the Select Committee is the answer which they get from one member at least of the Liberal Government of the day. It is for Ministers of Religion to make good their words, and to be true to their convictions. The great bulk of the earnest religious community, those free, like the dissenting religious communities, to speak, have declared these laws, passed in silence, in darkness and in shame, to be immoral, irreligious and degrading laws; then I say they have no right to content themselves with mere conventional protests. It is their duty, if they are men as well as Christians, to descend into the political arena and to force their convictions at the polling booth, and in the constituencies.

Those are my views. I have told you my notions of my duty and what I shall do. I now leave you to speak.'

A Christian Man of Business.

HON. WM. E. DODGE. PRE-EMINENT in business, in temperance, in benevolence and in every good work, few will leave so large a place vacant and be so sincerely missed as will he. He was the foremost layman in America; perhaps the world. All New York has known, honoured and loved him for the last half century. His history of his life is the history of our city for the past sixty-five years. His life is an inspiration to all that is noble. It is a striking illustration of what a boy may become who makes religion first and business second.

Born seventy-eight years ago near Hartford, Conn.; after but little schooling he began his life in New York city as an errand boy at the age of thirteen in a large dry-good house. His advance was rapid. In eight years he joined with a friend in establishing a new house. Soon after, he married the daughter of Mr. Phelps, and three years after was taken into the firm so long known as Phelps, Dodge & Co. From that small beginning he came to be the head of the largest metal-importing house in the country. He was also a great railroad man-president and director of several roads. He always resigned his position and sold his stock in any company as soon as it began running trains on Sunday. He did a large business also in lumbering, banking, insurance, and real estate.

He was a rich man. His fortune is estimated at 5,000,000 dollars. But his fame was not for his riches, but for the consecrated way he used his wealth. For many years he gave away 100,000 dollars annually. In the past few years his gifts averaged 1,000 dollars per day through the year. He gave much about which the world will never know. He was a thorough business man-energetic, active and prudent, but was better known as a philanthropist than as a merchant prince. He was one of the most active temperance workers in New York city. He was a practical missionary from a boy, distributed Bibles with his own hands in homes where there were none. Several churches were largely aided by him in being established, and missions increased with his fortune and with the need and opportunity. The Bible Society and Union Seminary always had a large share of his time, money, counsel, and sympathy. The highest tribute that can be paid him is, to say that he was a consistent Christian man.

friend or foe?




You go round the Park, not across it, I think, Mr. Weston ?”

“I do, Mr. Rearden."
“I'll walk that way with you, if you have no objection ?”

“Shall be delighted, indeed,-delighted ! if it will not take you out of your way much. One not a misanthrope or poet does not usually care to be alone on a walk, even though it be in the gloaming.”

And so the speakers, who had just together left Daisy Villa, went arm-inarm round by the park.

Mr. Weston, a white-haired old gentleman with bright grey eyes, always took the lion's share of the conversation, whatever his company might be. This occasion was no exception to the rule, so that Rearden soon found himself listening, by no means unwillingly, to a full and detailed account of his companion's business, tastes, opinions, and life, without being required to answer or join in, save by some simple monosyllable or phrase.

“Bless me!” said the old gentleman, “Only five years since I went to Birmingham ; but what changes have taken place! My old friend-my oldest friend, Mr. Rearden, is Mr. Bradford"

“So I understand, sir."

“Yes—my oldest friend. And I make ve-ry few. But I was saying, he's quite a merchant now. And that's owing, chiefly, to a suggestion of yours, is it not?”

“Well,” modestly returned Amos, "I certainly did suggest the wholesale trade, when Mr. Bradford came in for that money, but”

“Honour, where honour is due ! You deserve high credit for that idea, which promises to make our friend-and Raymond and Miss Vaughan into the bargain-rich for life. Honour, where honour is due. And that girl and boy !for they were no more when I left—what a fine pair they have become! But I suppose I must not say too much about charming Miss Vaughan in present company, eh, Mr. Rearden ?" and the old gentleman laughed slily, eyeing his companion sideways. “You are not without eyes.”

“But an honourable man never sees charms which another claims, Mr. Weston,” gravely returned Rearden. “I suppose you knew Miss Vaughan's father ?” he added, in the most careless of tones.

“ Knew him !" echoed the other “as well as I know Bradford, and a handsome, generous fellow he was, too; and merry also-merry as a bird, like his pretty wife, until his vagabond friend, Grant, betrayed his friendship and ruined him."

“Ruined him !" repeated Rearden, looking into Mr. Weston's face.

Yes, ruined him; ruined him deliberately, with a smiling, hypocritical face, and a plausible tongue. They had been schoolmates together. Grant afterwards went to sea, while Vaughan entered his father's drapery business, which, when it became his own, he made a splendid success. Then Grant, who used to visit him whenever he returned from a voyage, one day came with an infallible plan for making a fortune. The scoundrel !" Mr, Weston, his eyes flashing with angry memories, breathed hard as he paused a moment, while Amos asked suggestively:

Did he rob Mr. Vaughan ?” Rob him! yes--in effect. He was chief mate of a small ship trading to the China seas. He came to Vaughan with a glowing story about the huge profits he could make by taking a share in the cargo of silks and dyes, and wanted a thousand pounds. Of course Vaughan lent it at once, believing all the other said. You can guess the end. The ship was attacked by Malay

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pirates, and everything lost. Yet Vaughan never blamed him. He went bank. rupt when that money would have saved him, yet he never uttered a reproach against Grant, but died quietly of a broken heart, and left his wife to follow him within two months.”

"A sad, sad story,” murmured Rearden, in a pained tone. “But did Grant never return ?”

"Oh yes—he returned. Full of repentance, of course; and went away again, swearing to regain the money, or perish in the attempt. We know the value of his oaths however: it's twelve years since he showed himself.”

"Perhaps he is dead,” suggested Rearden.

“Perhaps so ;” answered the old gentlemen, a great change coming over his manner. "I have often said I would never speak or think of this matter : it always upsets me so, and it can do no good. And that reminds me, I've done a little wrong in telling you of it. Mrs. Vaughan, Bradford's sister, made him promise, when he engaged to bring up Elsie, never to tell her the real story, because her husband never would believe but that his friend was only unfortunate, not unfaithful”

"I'm sure,” hastily answered Amos, "you can depend on me never to mention it.”

“I'm satisfied of that, Mr. Rearden,” returned the old gentleman, looking into the other's face, and feeling assured by the frankness and sympathy he saw therein. “As to Elsie, knowing the story will make her no happier. Indeed,” Mr. Weston went on, passing from one subject to another with the usual rapidity of garrulous people, "putting aside the fact that she is an orphan, no girl ought to think herself luckier. Her own father could not love her more than her uncle does; she will certainly come in for the latter's property-all of it, I've no doubt, since it is understood that Raymond and she are to marry; and in Raymond she will have a noble fellow for a husband.”

“Undoubtedly," answered Rearden, with feeling.

“Yes: Raymond is a noble fellow, I'm sure, and well worthy of Bradford's trust. Just like Vaughan, too, in his ways; in his trustfulness and simplicity, and cheerful belief in human nature; though, like all of us, he has his faults and failings. Well, here we are,” Mr. Weston added, as they arrived before his door, you'll come in and see Mrs. W., of course ?”

Rearden did enter the house, but not to stay; he had some pressing business to attend to, and so, after receiving a hearty invitation to come and spend an evening, he was soon outside again.

“Now,” he muttered, as he went along, “if there is a thing I really hate, it is playing the hypocrite. But I can't help it. What that very sharp and candid friend of mine used to say quite true: I have a genius for it-it's in my bones. Therefore, since what can't be cured must be endured, I shan't waste my virtuous wrath by being angry with myself. And, on the whole,” he added, with satisfaction, “ the trait is not an unprofitable one, for it has helped me to a confirmation of that story I heard a few weeks ago. And what does that mean? Simply that I have a chance of winning a fortune without trouble, if I just let things take their course. Captain Grant was just the fellow to go in for some tremendous, heroic deed; so, he comes to England, finds his friend dead, and, seeing no other way of making reparation for his mistake, makes Elsie his heiress. What then? Who would not take such a wife and fortune if chances turned in his favour? More than once Grant told me that this reparation was the chief object of his life. I am sorry, Oliver, but as I am not heroic”

“Hullo! where are you off to, with that frown, eh p”

The words were accompanied by a hand coming down heavily on his back. Turning, he saw George Drewe before him.

“Didn't see you," he answered with a smile. “Going my way?”

"Which way is that? But, I say, can you come home with me to-night? I want you to see a new violin I've bought.”

"Shall be pleased when I've been to Mare Street. I have to see a customer there. Then I'm free."

“Good. I'll go with you."

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