Next to the preachers of the gospel, the world owes most to its schoolmasters. The teacher often works quietly in obscurity, and is very seldom before the eye of the public. But to him is given the privilege of moulding the plastic mind and impressing upon it those habits of thoroughness, sincerity, and self-respect, which go so far towards the development of character.

      It may not be known to all our readers that A. B. Maston was a Bachelor of Arts. His degree was won, however, in an institution which did not rank at that time with the great schools, and Bro. Maston was wise enough to refrain from parading the letters which a lesser man would have used without scruple.

      As we have seen, he had not the privilege of any very thorough education in the days of his early boyhood, but that defect was largely remedied by the excellent course of instruction received at the Northern Indiana Normal School. Speaking of this institution and its principal many years later in life, after his visit to America, A. B. Maston says: "One of the most remarkable institutions of learning in the U.S. is at Valparaiso, Ind., known as the Northern Indiana Normal School. It is owned and controlled by H. B. Brown, a most enthusiastic worker in the cause of Christ. When [8] I visited the school during my late sojourn in the U.S., there were 2,200 students in attendance from all parts of the American continent. . . . . There is none of the cap and gown business about the American schools, but there's snap and go, which, from a practical standpoint, are more necessary than a lot of gewgaws. Mr. Brown is neither a preacher nor a writer, but he is the door-keeper for a large chapel, and, I venture to say, that he does more good in that capacity than just about half the preachers. There are a lot of preachers who aspire to be preachers and teachers in God's house, who could serve both the Lord and their brethren better by keeping the door or even keeping still."

      At the date of writing this memoir, Bro. Brown is still principal of the same college,, and Bro. Maston's son, Roy, is a student there. When he was attending this school, Aaron wrote a description of its dining-hall to a local paper in another part of the country. "The dining-room contains 20 tables, accommodating from 300 to 350 students. There are ten waiters, and about as many cooks. There is a little noise caused by the rattling of the dishes, but no loud talking or laughing, although I never heard Mr. Brown speak of this. He appears to rule by love, and I know that I never saw a more orderly set of students. We have good board, gotten up in the best of style, which costs about 1.90 dollars a week. Do not understand me to say that this is the only boarding hall, because there are two others of the same kind, besides several smaller ones." [9]

      H. B. Davies, of Madisonville, Ky., on Feb. 8, 1878, wrote a letter to the American "Standard," in which he not only described the College, but also made an interesting reference to A. B. Maston.

      "Valparaiso has, besides the City College, a flourishing Normal School, said to be the largest in the United States. Has about 1,200 pupils. The school is under the superintendence of Prof. H. B. Brown, a member of the Christian Church. While in Valparaiso, we visited the Normal School during chapel service, where we met over 600 pupils, who observed the most marked order during the services . . . We met Bro. A. B. Maston, a young man of fine natural abilities and good attainments, who will finish his course in the Normal School this year. Bro. Maston expects to enter upon the work of the ministry in full. A congregation wishing the services of a young man would do well to call him."

      While at school, Aaron, for a time, at least, was preaching regularly for a church.

      In the letter quoted above, H. B. Davies states that he preached while on a trip to Indiana, at Hebron, where Aaron was labouring. He says: "We had a large audience to hear the gospel. We are happy to state that we found the congregation alive and at work. Bro. A. B. Maston is preaching for them once a month. The congregation is meeting in a hall, but intends to build in the spring. The primitive plea has a strong hold on the community."

      Besides these regular preaching appointments, Aaron found time to act as correspondent for a [10] local paper called the "Commercial," under the nom-de-plume of Aaron Burr, Jr. These notes were well-written, brief and racy, with a breadth of outlook not often found in the newspaper correspondent. There was also a welcome touch of humour, prophetic of his later style.

      Aaron supported himself while in college by teaching school during the winter months. In his diary, he gives the names of the scholars of his first school. There were 32 in all, including five young folk who bore the name of Maston. He writes: "This was my first school, and was very successful. It was called the Honey Run School. My second school was taught in the State of Indiana, and was known as the Rail Road School. (Here follow 36 names.) "I taught in this district for three terms, two winter and one fall term. I had a good school, and the fall term was the best school I ever taught." Then follow the names of 39 scholars in another school at "Brick Yard" during the winter of 1876-1877.

      It meant hard work to pay his way through college in this fashion, but A. B. Maston had a great capacity for strenuous toil. This was one secret of his success in life.

      When he was teaching one of his schools, he was much annoyed by the habits of the boys, who were continually chewing, and spitting on the floor. He spoke about it and corrected them for it continually, but all his efforts were in vain. At last, despairing of ever curing the dirty habit, he determined to meet it by an original expedient. He drilled large holes in the wooden walls of the [11] schoolroom, and compelled the boys to expectorate through the holes on to the ground outside. To this day the holes may be seen in the walls of the room.

      Teaching school, however, was to A. B. Maston only a means to an end. His great ambition was to devote himself fully to the extension of the Kingdom of Christ. In 'the "Australasian Christian Standard," of Nov. 7, 1895, he speaks of this desire, and tells the story of his first efforts in the pulpit:--

      It was preached in a Presbyterian church, to a Presbyterian congregation, but it was not a Presbyterian sermon. This was on June 1st, 1873, when I was about twenty years old. The little academy I was then attending was conducted by a Presbyterian, and sometimes, for the want of something better, I attended the Presbyterian Church. The pastor of this church frequently preached to a large country congregation of the "same faith and order" about ten miles from the little village. One of these appointments he was unable to fill, and to my horror and delight, he was sent to me by the principal of the school. This was on Thursday; the appointment was to be taken on Sunday. I was afraid to hesitate or say no, for fear he would not press me or ask me again, so I rushed into the breach. When fifteen years of age I put on Christ, when I solemnly and intelligently promised myself and Him whom I then commenced to serve that I would spend my life preaching [12] Christ. Here was the chance, and it would not do to hesitate. Long years of toil have intervened since then, but I have never regretted the step then taken. A solemn old Presbyterian elder was appointed to drive me out to the place on Sunday morning; he was not solemn because he was sour, but because it was a part of his religious duty. He did his duty well! The day was glorious. As we approached the country church, and saw the line of horses and carriages around, my heart sank within me; but when I went inside and saw the large and reverent congregation of well-dressed country people waiting for the "preacher," my fear fled. Even now the very thought of preaching or speaking fills me with dread, but when I stand before an assembly of people who, I think, want to hear me, my fear vanishes. If only people knew how much most preachers depend upon their hearers, they would often give more attention than they do. With me it is a matter of stern duty to give my undivided attention to any man who stands before me to speak. If he says anything good, I am sure to get it, and if he does not, he can't say or think it was my fault.

      But what about the sermon? When I got notice on Thursday that my services were urgently required, I went to work like a Trojan to prepare for action. First of all, but by no means best of all, I had nothing to fall back upon. I had preached many sermons to imaginary congregations in the quiet seclusion of my father's wooded paddock, but I had kept no record of them; they had perished [13] with the using. My first concern was about a text, and the first twenty-four hours were spent in feverish excitement over this part of my work. I could find plenty of texts, but none of them seemed to be very rich in thought. From that time to the present I have always been in deepest sympathy with the man in search of a text. Well, I finally found a text. Before me lies a faded manuscript, and at the top is indicated that text that was so lost as to take me twenty-four hours to find it--"Thus it is written and thus it behoved Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day, and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem" (Luke 24:46, 47). In the estimation of one individual, at least, the sermon was a success, though I candidly confess I have never seen that meeting-house from that day to this, and that I never attempted to preach that same sermon again. As I sit to-night and look at the faded pages of the notes of this my first sermon, the intervening years seem like a dream, though, in fact, they have been years of active and stern reality, and not many Lord's days have passed by without an attempt in some form or other to tell the story of Him whom it "behoved to suffer and to rise from the dead." This was my first sermon, and according to the light and knowledge I then had, was faithfully delivered. The past is gone for ever, but may God grant that the sermons yet to be preached, and the last sermon, may be "true and faithful." [14]

A. B. MASTON.

      While at Valparaiso, A. B. Maston was not only active in the public proclamation of the gospel, but also in private personal work. The following extract from one of our American religious periodicals tells of a somewhat uncommon, but very interesting experience in connection with his personal efforts to win souls:

      Valparaiso, May 9. "Yesterday, while walking along, the edge of a beautiful lake not far from this city, in company with two young men of my acquaintance, and talking of the crucified and risen Saviour, one of them said, 'See, here is water; what doth hinder us to be baptised? I answered, 'If you believe with all your hearts, you may.' The response came, 'We believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God'; and we went down into the water, and I baptised them, and when we were come up out of the water, the Spirit did not take me away, but the brethren went their way rejoicing. These were young men to whom I had preached much, both in public and private, and was convinced that they were in earnest, and wished to obey the Saviour. We were all alone, but I feel that I did right, and acted in accordance with primitive example."--A. B. Maston. [15]

[LABM 8-15]