From the time of their arrival, the minister and his family excited great curiosity and interest among the good people of Merleville. The minister himself, as Mr Snow told Mrs Nasmyth, was “popular.” Not, however, that any one among them all thought him faultless, unless Mr Snow himself did. Every old lady in the town saw something in him, which she not secretly deplored. Indeed, they were more unanimous, with regard to the minister’s faults, than old ladies generally are on important subjects. The matter was dispassionately discussed at several successive sewing-circles, and when Mrs Page, summing up the evidence, solemnly declared, “that though the minister was a good man, and a good preacher, he lacked considerable in some things which go to make a man a good pastor,” there was scarcely a dissenting voice.
Mrs Merle had ventured to hint that, “they could not expect everything in one man,” but her voice went for nothing, as one of the minister’s offences was, having been several times in at the Judge’s, while he sinfully neglected others of his flock.
“It’s handy by,” ventured Mrs Merle, again. But the Judge’s wife was no match for the blacksmith’s lady, and it was agreed by all, that whatever else the minister might be, he was “no hand at visiting.” True he had divided the town into districts, for the purpose of regularly meeting the people, and it was his custom to announce from the pulpit, the neighbourhood in which, on certain days, he might be expected. But that of course, was a formal matter, and not at all like the affectionate intercourse that ought to exist between a pastor and his people. “He might preach like Paul,” said Mrs Page, “but unless on week days he watered the seed sown, with a word in season, the harvest would never be gathered in. The minister’s face ought to be a familiar sight in every household, or the youth would never be brought into the fold,” and the lady sighed, at the case of the youth, scattered over the ten miles square of Merleville. The minister was not sinning in ignorance either, for she herself, had told him his duty in this respect.
“And what did he say?” asked some one.
“Oh! he didn’t say much, but I could see that his conscience wasn’t easy. However, there has been no improvement yet,” she added, with grave severity.
“He hain’t got a horse, and I’ve heard say, that deacon Fish charges him six cents a mile for his horse and cutter, whenever he has it. He couldn’t afford to ride round much at that rate, on five hundred dollars a year.”
This bold speech was ventured by Miss Rebecca Pettimore, Mrs Captain Liscome’s help, who took turns with that lady, in attending the sewing-circle. But it was well known, that she was always “on the off side,” and Mrs Page deigned no reply. There was a moment’s silence.
“Eli heard Mr Snow say so, in Page’s shop yesterday,” added Rebecca, who always gave her authority, when she repeated an item of news. Mrs Fish took her up sharply.
“Sampson Snow had better let the minister have his horse and cutter, if he can afford to do it for nothing. Mr Fish can’t.”
“My goodness, Mis’ Fish, I wouldn’t have said a word, if I’d thought you were here,” said Rebecca, with an embarrassed laugh.