Christian life -- Fiction; Clergy -- Fiction; Love stories; Missions -- Fiction; New England -- Fiction; Temperance -- Fiction
“Fathers and brothers of the church! I believe in God Almighty,
Maker of heaven and earth. I believe in Jesus Christ his Son, our
Lord and Saviour. I believe in the sacredness and authority of the
Bible, which contains the lesson and the history of His life. I
believe in the guilt and the misery of sin, and I have spent the
best years of my youth in your institutions of sacred learning,
seeking to be taught how to teach my fellow-men to be better. I
solemnly believe in the Life Eternal, and that its happiness and
holiness are the gifts of Jesus Christ to the race; or to such of
us as prove fit survivors, capable of immortality. I do not presume
to explain how or why this is or may be so; for behold we are shown
mysteries, of which this is one. If I am permitted to guide the
people who have loved and chosen me, I expect to teach them many
truths which I do not understand. I shall teach them none which I
do not believe. Fathers and brothers, I show you my soul! Deal with
me as you will!”
He stood for a space, tall, white, still, with that look--half
angel, half human--which was peculiar to his face in moments of
exaltation. His dazzling eyes blazed for an instant upon his
tormentors, then fell upon his people and grew dim. He saw their
uplifted faces pleadingly turned to him: troubled men whom he
had been able to guide; bereaved women whom he had known how to
comfort. Oh, his people! Tears were on their cheeks. Their faces
swam before him. How dear, in those few months that he had served
them, they had grown! To stand disgraced before them, a stigma
on his Christian name forever, their faith deceived, their trust
disappointed,--his people, to be his no more!
“God!” he said in his heart. “Was there any other way?”
An instant’s darkness swept over him, and his soul staggered in it.
Then, to the fine, inner ear of the spirit the answer came:--
“In honor, between Me and thee, thou hast no other way.”
The troubled voice of the moderator now recalled him, using the
quaint phrase of elder times for such occasion made and provided:
“The Council will now be by themselves.”
In three quarters of an hour the Council returned and reported
upon the examination. Emanuel Bayard was refused ordination to the
Christian ministry by a majority of five.
Now, the savage that lurks in the gentlest assemblage of men sprang
with a war-cry upon the decorum of the crowded church. Agitated
beyond self-control, the people split into factions, and resolved
themselves into committees; they wept, they quarreled, they prayed,
and they condemned by turns. The gray-haired moderator and the
dejected Professor, themselves paler than the rejected candidate,
sought to convert the confusion into something like order
wherewith to close the exercises of that miserable day. Daring the
momentary silence which their united efforts had enforced, a thick
voice from the swaying crowd was distinctly heard.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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