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Laicus Or the Experiences of a Layman in a Country Parish

Chapter 6 Am 1 A Drone

Word Count: 1560    |    Released on: 18/11/2017

ough she does not say much. She only says that if I did she thinks I could do a great deal of good. I wonder

nt, and went the next day to hear my old friend Thomas Lan

ith the poor of his own congregation. To his credit and that of his wife be it said, there are a good many poor in his congregation. But he does not confine

distributing tracts? Are you doing anything to seek and to save that which is lost?" Then he went on to say what should be done; and to maintain the right and duty of laymen to preach, to teach, to visit, to do all things which belong to "fishers of men." "There are a great many church me

of all that he said. I believe I should have decided at once to go int

g establishment. He is one of Mr. Lane's warmest friends. Mr. Lane believes him to be a devoted Christian. "Well, parson," said he, "I suppose

atter now?" s

ou do, and am off to the factory. I never get home till six o'clock, sometimes not then. My day's work uses up my day's energies. I can't go out to a tenement-house prayer-meeting, or to tract distribution in the evening. I can hardly keep awake in our own church prayer-meeting. If it were not for Sunday's rest my work would kill me in a year. I sometimes think that pe

not leave it for another--only do not forget that you have to give an account of your parochial charge. You are to study, not how to get the most money out of your four

who are not working for the Church. There is a work for Christ outside. And I do not want to take a Sabbath-school class.

them. And Mr. Work thinks it's a dreadful sin, I do not doubt, that I do not take it at once. I do not care much for that. But Jenn

on behalf of the City Mission Society was held here. Mr. Mingin

t population of New York. With all the eloquence of a warm heart, made more attractive by his broad Scotch, he pled with us to take an active part in their amelioration. "Pure

trembling lip and the tearful eye, that her heart was full. "I wish I had not come to-night," she said, as we walked along together. "Such stories make my heart bleed. It seems as though I ought to go right out to visit the sick, comfort the afflicted, care for the neglected. But what can I do? My children are dependen

act-distributors never enter. The street that needs Gospel visitation most is Fifth avenue. That is in her district. And, nobly, though unconsciously, she fulfils her mission. More than one person I have heard say, "If to be a Christian is to be like Mrs. Bridgeman, I wish I were one." Our pastor preaches no such effective

rted. And I was a little comforted too. It is very clear, is it not, that we are not all

nd the chair? That is the first point to be settled. The other comes up afterward. But it does persist

Jennie and see what she

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Laicus Or the Experiences of a Layman in a Country Parish
Laicus Or the Experiences of a Layman in a Country Parish
“This book was not made; it has grown. When three years ago I left the pulpit to engage in literary work and took my seat among the laity in the pews, I found that many ecclesiastical and religious subjects presented a different aspect from that which they had presented when I saw them from the pulpit. I commenced in the CHRISTIAN UNION, in a series of "Letters from a Layman," to discuss from my new point of view some questions which are generally discussed from the clerical point of view alone. The letters were kindly received by the public. To some of the characters introduced I became personally attached. And the series of letters, commenced with the expectation that they might last through six or eight weeks, extended over a period of more than a year and a half--might perhaps have extended to the present it other duties had not usurped my time and thoughts. This was the beginning. But after a time thoughts and characters which presented themselves in isolated forms, and so were photographed for the columns of the newspaper, began to gather in groups. The single threads that had been spun for the weekly issue, wove themselves together in my imagination into the pattern of a simple story, true as to every substantial fact, yet fictitious in all its dress and form. And so out of Letters of Layman grew, I myself hardly know how, this simple story of a layman's life in a country parish.”
1 Preface2 Chapter 1 How I Happened To Go To Wheathedge3 Chapter 2 More Diplomacy4 Chapter 3 We Join The Church5 Chapter 4 The Real Presence6 Chapter 5 Our Church Finances7 Chapter 6 Am 1 A Drone8 Chapter 7 The Field Is The World9 Chapter 8 Mr. Gear10 Chapter 9 I Get My First Bible Scholar11 Chapter 10 The Deacon's Second Service12 Chapter 11 Our Pastor Resigns13 Chapter 12 The Committee On Supply Hold An Informal Meeting14 Chapter 13 Maurice Mapleson Declines To Submit To A Competiti15 Chapter 14 The Supply Committee Hold Their First Formal Meeti16 Chapter 15 Our Christmas At Wheathedge17 Chapter 16 Mr. Gear Again18 Chapter 17 Wanted--A Pastor19 Chapter 18 Our Prayer-Meeting20 Chapter 19 We Are Jilted21 Chapter 20 We Propose22 Chapter 21 Ministerial Salaries23 Chapter 22 Ecclesiastical Financiering24 Chapter 23 Our Donation Party--By Jane Laicus25 Chapter 24 Maurice Mapleson26 Chapter 25 Our Church-Garden27 Chapter 26 Our Temperance Prayer-Meeting28 Chapter 27 Father Hyatt's Story29 Chapter 28 Our Village Library30 Chapter 29 Maurice Mapleson Tries An Experiment31 Chapter 30 Mr. Hardcap's Family Prayers32 Chapter 31 In Darkness33 Chapter 32 God Said, Let There Be Light 34 Chapter 33 A Retrospect