He Must Have Meant Me
by
“HOW do you like our new preacher?” was asked by one member of another, as they walked home from church.
“Only so so,” was replied.
“He cuts close,” remarked the first speaker.
“Yes, a little too close.”
“I don’t know about that. I like to see the truth brought home to the heart and conscience.”
“So do I. But I object to personality.”
“Personality!”
“Yes; I object to personality.”
So does every one. Was Mr. C–personal?”
“I think so.”
“That’s hardly possible. He only arrived last week, and has not yet had time to become familiar with facts in the life of any one here. Moreover, a personal allusion in a first sermon, by a stranger, is something so out of place and indelicate, that I cannot for a moment believe that your inference is correct.”
“While I have the best of reasons for believing that I complain of him justly. He’s been long enough here to visit a certain family, fond of tittle-tattle, that I could name.”
“The Harrisons?”
“Yes.”
“I hope you are mistaken.”
“No; I am not mistaken. C–was personal, and distinctly so. And the Harrisons are at the bottom of the matter. To say the least, he has acted in very bad taste. Charity should have prompted him to wait until he could have heard both sides of the story.”
“I agree with you, fully, if your allegation be correct. But I must hope that you are in error.”
“No. I have the best of reasons for what I allege.”
“To whom did the personality apply?”
“To myself, if the truth must be spoken.”
“Is it possible?”
“Yes–to myself.”
“That places the matter in rather a serious light, Mr. Grant.”
“It does. And I think I have reason to complain.”
“You ought to be certain about this matter.”
“I’m certain enough. When a man treads on your toe, you are likely to know it.”
‘It is barely possible that Mr. C–did not intend to designate you, or any one, in what he said.”
“He must have meant me,” replied Mr. Grant, with emphasis. “He couldn’t have said what he did, unless he had been informed of certain things that have happened in this town. Had he not visited the Harrisons, I might have doubted. But that fact places the thing beyond a question.”
“In what did the personality consist?”
“Did you not observe it?”
“No.”
“Indeed!”
“I perceived no allusion to any one.”
“There are plenty of others, no doubt, who did. I don’t care to speak of it just now. But you’ll hear about it. I noticed three or four turn and look at me while he was speaking. It will be a pleasant piece of gossip; but if Mr. C–doesn’t take care, I’ll make this place too hot to hold him. I’m not the one to be set up as a target for any whipper-snapper to fire at.”
“Don’t get excited, friend Grant. Wait awhile. I still think there is some mistake.”
“I beg your pardon; there is no mistake about it. He meant me. Don’t I know? Can’t I tell when a man points his finger at me in a public assembly?”
In his opinion, Mr. Grant was still further confirmed, ere he reached his home, by the peculiar way in which sundry members of the congregation looked at him. Of course, he was considerably disturbed on the subject; and felt a reasonable share of indignation. In the evening, he declined attending worship as an indication of his feelings on the subject; and he doubted not that the new preacher would note his absence and understand the cause.
About a year prior to this time, Mr. Grant, who was a manufacturing jeweller, was called upon by a gentleman, who desired him to make a solid gold wedding-ring. It was to be of the finest quality that could be worked, and to be unusually heavy. When the price was mentioned, the gentleman objected to it as high.
“Your neighbour, over the way,” said the gentleman, “will make it for a dollar less than you ask.”