Talent, backed by experience and industry, will succeed in the long run
in New York, but talent is not essential to success in the ministry here.
We have often wondered what does make the success of some clergymen in
this city. They have done well, and are popular, but they are not pulpit
orators. In other cities a good pastor need not always be a good
preacher. He may endear himself to his people in many different ways, so
that his other good qualities atone for his oratorical deficiencies. In
New York, however, pastoral duties are almost entirely confined to the
ministrations in the church, visitation of the sick, marriages, and
attendance upon funerals. The city is so immense, the flock so widely
scattered, that very few clergymen can visit all their people. The
result is that pastoral visiting is but little practised here. The
clergyman is generally "at home" to all who choose to call, on a certain
evening in each week. A few civil, common-place words pass between the
shepherd and the sheep, but that is all. The mass of the people of this
city are neglected by the clergy. Possibly the fault is with the people.
Indeed, it is highly probable, considering the carelessness which New
Yorkers manifest on the subject of church going. During the summer
months a large part of New York is left to do without the Gospel. Very
many of the churches are closed. The ministers are, many of them,
delicate men, and they cannot bear the strain of an unbroken year of
preaching. So they shut up their churches during the warm season, go off
to Long Branch, Saratoga, or the mountains, or cross the ocean. With the
fall of the leaves, they come back to town by the score, and their
churches are again opened "for preaching." Don't be deceived by their
robust appearance. It is only temporary. By the approach of the next
summer they will grow thin and weak-voiced again, and nothing will
restore them but a season at some fashionable resort, or a run over the
ocean.
A man of real talent will always, if he has a church conveniently and
fashionably located, draw a large congregation to hear him; but the
location and prestige of the church often do more than the minister, for
some of our poorer churches have men of genius in their pulpits, while
some of the wealthiest and most fashionable congregations are called on
every Sunday to listen to the merest platitudes.
Let us not be misunderstood. There are able men in the New York
pulpit--such men as Vinton, Hall, Chapin, Spring, Osgood, John Cotton
Smith, Adams, and others--but we have some weak-headed brethren also.
A few clergymen grow rich in this city, the wealthy members of their
flock no doubt aiding them. Some marry fortunes. As a general rule,
however, they have no chance of saving any money. Salaries are large
here, but expenses are in proportion; and it requires a large income for
a minister to live respectably. One in charge of a prosperous
congregation cannot maintain his social position, or uphold the dignity
of his parish, on less than from eight to ten thousand dollars per annum,
if he has even a moderate family. Very little, if any, of this will go
in extravagance. Many clergymen are obliged to live here on smaller
salaries, but they do it "by the skin of their teeth."
As a rule, the clergymen of New York are like those of other places.
Whether weak-headed, or strong-minded, they are, as a class, honest,
God-fearing, self-denying men. There are, however, some black sheep in
the fold; but, let us thank Heaven, they are few, and all the more
conspicuous for that reason.
The speculative mania (in financial, not theological matters) invades
even the ranks of the clergy, and there are several well-known gentlemen
of the cloth who operate boldly and skilfully in the stock markets
through their brokers. One of these was once sharply rebuked by his
broker for his unclerical conduct, and was advised, if he wished to carry
on his speculations further, to go into the market himself, as the broker
declined to be any longer the representative of a man who was ashamed of
his business. There are others still who are not ashamed to mingle
openly with the throng of curb-stone brokers, and carry on their
operations behind the sanctity of their white cravats. These last,
however, may be termed "Independents," as they have no standing in their
churches, and are roundly censured by them.
Others there are who, on small salaries, support large families. These
are the heroes of the profession, but the world knows little of their
heroism. With their slender means, they provide homes that are models
for all. They do their duty bravely, and with an amount of self-denial
which is sometimes amazing. They have happy homes, too, even if it is
hard to make both ends meet at the end of the year. They are often men
of taste and culture, to whom such trials are particularly hard. They
carry their culture into their homes, and the fruits of it blossom all
around them. Wealth could not give them these pleasures, nor can poverty
deprive them of them. They bring up their children in the fear and
admonition of the Lord, and, thanks to the free schools and their own
efforts, give them a good education. They send them out into the world
well equipped for the battle of life, and reap the reward of their
efforts in the honorable and useful lives of those children. They go
down into the grave without knowing any of the comforts of wealth,
without having ever preached to a fashionable congregation, and the world
comes at last to find that their places cannot easily be filled. Let us
be sure "their works do follow them."