``Paul said, `Wives, obey your husbands,' '' shouted my old man of the coat-tails. ``Suppose your hus- b and should refuse to allow you to preach? What then?''
``In the first place,'' I answered, ``Paul did not say so, according to the Scriptures. But even if he did, it would not concern me, for I am a spinster.''
The old man looked me over. ``You might marry some day,'' he predicted, cautiously.
``Possibly,'' I admitted. ``Wiser women than I a m have married. But it is equally possible that I m ight marry a man who would command me to preach; and in that case I want to be all ready to obey him.''
At this another man, a bachelor, also began to draw from the Scriptures. ``An elder,'' he quoted, ``shall be the husband of one wife.'' And he de- m anded, triumphantly, ``How is it possible for you to be the husband of a wife?''
In response to that I quoted a bit myself. ``Paul said, `Anathema unto him who addeth to or taketh from the Scriptures,' '' I reminded this gentleman; a nd added that a twisted interpretation of the Scriptures was as bad as adding to or taking from them, and that no one doubted that Paul was warning the elders against polygamy. Then I went a bit further, for by this time the absurd character of the questions was getting on my nerves.
``Even if my good brother's interpretation is cor- r ect,'' I said, ``he has overlooked two important points. Though he is an elder, he is also a bachelor; s o I am as much of a husband as he is!''
A good deal of that sort of thing went on. The most satisfactory episode of the session, to me, was the downfall of three pert young men who in turn tried to make it appear that as the duty of the Con- f erence was to provide churches for all its pastors, I might become a burden to the Church if it proved impossible to provide a pastorate for me. At that, one of my friends in the council rose to his feet.
``I have had official occasion to examine into the matter of Miss Shaw's parish and salary,'' he said, ``and I know what salaries the last three speakers are drawing. It may interest the Conference to know that Miss Shaw's present salary equals the combined salaries of the three young men who are so afraid she will be a burden to the Church. If, before being ordained, she can earn three times as much as they now earn after being ordained, it seems fairly clear that they will never have to support her.
We can only hope that she will never have to sup- p ort them.''
The three young ministers subsided into their seats with painful abruptness, and from that time my opponents were more careful in their remarks.
Still, many unpleasant things were said, and too much warmth was shown by both sides. We gained ground through the day, however, and at the end of the session the Conference, by a large majority, voted to ordain me.
The ordination service was fixed for the following evening, and even the gentlemen who had most vigorously opposed me were not averse to making the occasion a profitable one. The contention had already enormously advertised the Conference, and the members now helped the good work along by sending forth widespread announcements of the result. They also decided that, as the attendance at the service would be very large, they would take up a collection for the support of superannuated ministers. The three young men who had feared I w ould become a burden were especially active in the matter of this collection; and, as they had no sense of humor, it did not seem incongruous to them to use my ordination as a means of raising money for men who had already become burdens to the Church.
When the great night came (on October 12, 1880), the expected crowd came also. And to the credit of my opponents I must add that, having lost their fight, they took their defeat in good part and grace- f ully assisted in the services. Sitting in one of the front pews was Mrs. Stiles, the wife of Dr. Stiles, who was superintendent of the Conference. She was a dear little old lady of seventy, with a big, maternal heart; and when she saw me rise to walk up the aisle alone, she immediately rose, too, came to my side, offered me her arm, and led me to the altar.
The ordination service was very impressive and beautiful. Its peace and dignity, following the battle that had raged for days, moved me so deep- l y that I was nearly overcome. Indeed, I was on the verge of a breakdown when I was mercifully saved by the clause in the discipline calling for the pledge all ministers had to make--that I would not indulge in the use of tobacco. When this vow fell from my lips a perceptible ripple ran over the congregation.
I was homesick for my Cape Cod parish, and I r eturned to East Dennis immediately after my ordination, arriving there on Saturday night. I k new by the suppressed excitement of my friends that some surprise awaited me, but I did not learn what it was until I entered my dear little church the following morning. There I found the com- m union-table set forth with a beautiful new com- m union-service. This had been purchased during my absence, that I might dedicate it that day and for the first time administer the sacrament to my people.
