CHAPEL HILL, CHURCH, ELMDALE

Rev.  Philip strong,

Dear brother:—­At a meeting of the Elmdale Chapel Hill Church, held last week Thursday, it was unanimously voted to extend you a call to become pastor of the church at a salary of $2,000 a year, with two months’ vacation, to be selected at your own convenience.  The Chapel Hill Church is in a prosperous condition, and many of the members recall your career in the college with much pleasure.  This is an especially strong centre for church work, the proximity of the boys’ academy and the university making the situation one of great power to a man who thoroughly understands and enjoys young men as we know you do.  We most earnestly hope you will consider this call, not as purely formal, but as from the hearts of the people.  We are, very cordially yours,

In behalf of the Church,
professor Wellman,
Chairman of the Board of Trustees.

“What do you think of that?” asked the minister again.

“The salary is just the same, isn’t it?”

“Now, Sarah,” said the minister, “if I didn’t know what a generous, unselfish heart you really have, I should get vexed at you for talking about the salary as if that was the most important thing.”

“The salary is very important, though.  But you know, Philip, I would be as willing as you are to live on no salary if the grocer and butcher would continue to feed us for nothing.  I wish from the bottom of my heart that we could live without money.”

“It is a bother, isn’t it?” replied Philip, so gravely that his wife laughed heartily at his tone.

“Well, the question is, what to do with the letters,” resumed the minister.

“Which of the two churches do you prefer?” asked his wife.

“I would rather go to the Chapel Hill Church as far as my preference is concerned.”

“Then why not accept their call, if that is the way you feel?”

“Because, while I should like to go to Elmdale, I feel as if I ought to go to Milton.”

“Now, Philip, I don’t see why, in a choice of this kind, you don’t do as you feel inclined to do, and accept the call that pleases you most.  Why should ministers be doing what they ought instead of what they like?  You never please yourself.”

“Well, Sarah,” replied Philip, good-naturedly, “this is the way of it.  The church in Elmdale is in a University town.  The atmosphere of the place is scholastic.  You know I passed four years of student life there.  With the exception of the schools, there are not a thousand people in the village, a quiet, sleepy, dull, retired, studious place.  I love the memory of it.  I could go there as the pastor of the Elmdale church and preach to an audience of college boys eight months in the year and to about eighty refined, scholarly people the rest of the time.  I could indulge my taste for reading and writing and enjoy a quiet pastorate there to the end of my days.”