Captain Pott's Minister Part 4

"Brother Fox!" vociferously acknowledged the moderator.

"We have no right to carry this senseless discussion further. There has not yet been sounded--er--the note of fellowship that should prevail among the brethren," declared the Elder, eyeing the chairman. Very gently stroking his side-whiskers, he continued: "We have sprung at our young friend--er--as if he were before a jury, condemned and found guilty of a felony. Why should we trouble him about things that are not fundamental to our faith?"

Captain Pott muttered something under his breath. Never before had he known of the Elder and the city minister disagreeing.

"That is the very question," expostulated the moderator. "Mr. McGowan has attacked every sacred doctrine of the church, for he has said what is equivalent to the statement that my ancestors were monkeys. What other interpretation can be given to the doctrine of evolution? If it does not contradict every sacred belief of our past, then I am no theologian."

The old seaman chuckled, and several shocked faces were turned in his direction.

"Perhaps it would help if Mr. McGowan would tell us just what he does believe in regard to the book of Genesis," suggested Mr. Fox.

"It is the story of human redemption."

With a nod of satisfied approval, the Elder sat down, and the moderator crumpled up.

Captain Pott irreverently observed to Elizabeth: "I cal'late that there Means is left for once with his sails flopping, without no idea as to what his longitude is."

A little wizened-looking man smiled cordially and addressed the chair, but the "chair" seemed oblivious to all about him.

"Should not the ministry of to-day place greater emphasis on the philosophy of life than upon time-worn theology that has come to us from the middle ages?" asked the man.

"We should preach both where they affect life; neither where they do not," was the quick response.

"I am an instructor in philosophy in the high school over at Marble Point, and I was led by your last reply concerning your belief in the book of Genesis to believe you are somewhat of a philosopher. Do you not think that philosophy will touch life more quickly than theology?"

"Religion is something that has outgrown both the cla.s.sroom and the cloister. It is the anonymous religion that we must take into account in the future if the church is to progress with the needs of men."

It was the voice of the Captain who broke the silence of surprise which followed the unusual statement.

"I want to know!" came the seaman's exclamation in a hoa.r.s.e stage whisper.

Every face in the room seemed to register the same question. Mr. McGowan smiled and explained.

"By anonymous religion I mean every ideal striving for the right and truth, wherever it is found, and by whatever name it may be known. It may be found outside the church as readily as within it. Wherever good is found, the church should make use of it, whether it is counted orthodox or not."

First one, and then another, was on his feet, till the moderator was powerless to moderate. Some exclaimed for, and others declaimed against, the candidate. Still others fired broadside after broadside into all present.

"It ain't much like a heavenly craft, that there ark, now, is it?"

queried the Captain of his two friends. "Smells more like brimstone round these parts than it does like heavenly ozone."

Mr. Fox a.s.sumed command, and under his steady hand and head the spiritual elements began slowly to calm.

"In all my life," he lamented, "I have never seen such proceedings in the house of G.o.d. The parish committee arranged this meeting--er--for the purpose of fellowship, and you have seen fit to make of it child's play. It is time for us to recognize that Mr. McGowan is big enough, and broad enough, to supply the needs of a community like this. The very fact that he has not satisfied each of your unreasonable demands is evidence that he is competent to meet all of them, if we give him time.

I make the motion--er,--Mr. Moderator, that we proceed with the installation of the candidate without further delay or discussion."

The motion was seconded, and put to a vote. There were only a few who had the temerity to register themselves as negative in the face of what the leading layman had said. Elder Fox suggested that the vote be made unanimous.

"Brethren," protested the Reverend Mr. Means, slowly rising from the depths of the easy chair, "before that vote is taken to make the will of this council unanimous, I wish to have it fully understood that I am opposed, bitterly opposed, to the calling of unorthodox men to our pulpits. It is atrocious, and I shall wash my hands of the whole affair.

I regret very much that our beloved Brother Fox has forced me to disagree with him, and if he is of the same opinion still, I shall have to ask him to take the chair while the vote he has called for is being registered."

Mr. Fox took the chair, and the motion pa.s.sed without one dissenting voice. Adjournment to the kitchen parlors followed, and when that vote was taken the voice of him who had washed his hands of the action of the council was heard booming an affirmative near the Captain's ear.

The bounteous provisions warmed heart and stomach, and that fact, together with some persuasion from Elder Fox, led the city minister to the decision that he would lose nothing if he remained to deliver his prepared address. And he did himself proudly. Even Captain Pott could find no fault with the impa.s.sioned words of the speaker. He was heard to remark, however, "Them there things he said wa'n't what was inside by a d.a.m.n sight, but just smeared on like honey."

It was late that night when the Captain reached home after closing the church building. The minister was in his study, and the old man tapped lightly on the door.

"Won't be disturbing your peaceful meditations about that meeting if I come in for a spell, will I?"

a.s.sured he would not, he entered. He took a chair on the opposite side of the table and drew out his pipe.

"There ain't no wind so fierce that it don't blow you some good," he philosophized, as with deliberation he scratched a match on his trouser-leg. "I'd never hoped to see Jim Fox stand up to that city feller the way he did."

"What did you think of the whole thing, anyway, Cap'n?"

"Well, so far as I could get the drift, I'd think that there theology stuff would be purty dry picking. But it was mighty interesting the way you met up with 'em at every p'int. I was real 'feared that Jim Fox would get aboard their band-wagon when he see the way things was going against you."

The minister nodded.

"And the way the Means feller washed his hands! Wa'n't that good as a show, and then getting up and preaching like Gabriel afterward? Mack, you ain't got no idea what he made me think of, have you?"

"Not in the least. What?"

"I heard a preacher tell a yarn once about a pilot washing his hands in h.e.l.l. It struck me queer about there being a river in h.e.l.l. If it's as hot down there as I've heard it described, you'd think the surroundings would sizzle her up. But that's what the preacher said about this pilot, whose last name I rec'lect was Pontyhouse. His stay was to be purty tolerable long with his Satanic majesty. I've always felt sorry for that chap, seemed kind of lonely, but as I figger it out he's going to have company one of these hot days."

Mr. McGowan looked up.

"You just bet he is. I knew that Means chap afore he took to religion, and if he's slated for heavenly bliss I'm going to put in my papers for the other place, alongside the scrubbing pilot."

"You mean----"

"I mean that one of us is going to keep that feller company in h.e.l.l.

Beyond that you'll have to guess," said the Captain, rising. "Only don't you tie too tight to Means, that's all. Good night, I'm going to turn in."

"All right, Cap'n, I'll promise," replied Mr. McGowan, smiling appreciatively.

"You'd best go to bed, too, Mack. You're mighty tired."

But the minister did not follow his friend's advice about retiring. He sat at his desk. The angry men of the afternoon slowly faded from his thoughts, and into the center of his consciousness came the vision of the loveliest face he had ever seen. He recalled the words of frank approval with which Miss Fox had met him after the evening service, and the cordial manner she had shown. Not that he was in love with one of the members of his church. That would never do. But there was something different about the Elder's daughter, something which appealed to his sense of the beautiful. This, he told himself, he could enjoy without overstepping the conventions.

The next day he was to dine at the Fox home.

CHAPTER III

On the following evening, just as early as the rules of propriety would permit, Mr. McGowan turned into the private road that led up to the Fox estate. He walked slowly along the wide avenue beneath the spreading elms and stately chestnuts. He had dined with the Elder many times during the few months he had been in the village, but on those other occasions Elizabeth had been absent. The house had always seemed cold and forbidding both outside and inside. As he came out of the shaded roadway into the sweeping semicircle described before the main entrance to the house, he caught himself wondering if the stiff interior would seem softened by the presence of the girl. He began at once to chide himself for entertaining such a sentimental notion, but before he could finish the rebuke the door swung back, and Elizabeth Fox stood in the opening. She was dressed in a simple blue frock of clinging stuff, which set off the perfect lines of her athletic body. The blue of her eyes took on a deeper hue as though to harmonize with the shade of her gown.