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Chapter 5

Curate and Professor, Engagement and Marriage, 1893–1899

Cody soon made his mark as a promising young clergyman. He was curate in the expanding parish of St. Paul’s, was appointed a professor of theology at Wycliffe in 1893, was valued as a trusted writer in the Evangelical Churchman, and from 1894 served as the paper’s co-editor with Sheraton.

In remaining at St. Paul’s after his ordination, he was carrying out what became one of Wycliffe’s traditional practices – namely, having its students serve as lay assistants in city churches with the idea that they would continue in these same churches after ordination. Thus Cody began a connection with St. Paul’s that was to last for the next thirty-nine years, but it took him seven years to achieve full control of the parish and fourteen to achieve the title of rector. In 1893–99 he was theoretically only Des Barres’s curate, but Des Barres was getting on in years. In 1899 he retired from active participation in the work of the parish, although he retained the title of rector until 1907.

Des Barres, like Sheraton, was a Maritimer, a graduate of King’s College, Nova Scotia. He had seen service in the Diocese of Huron before coming to St. Paul’s about 1878. Cody’s relations with Des Barres were cordial, but the two did not achieve the mutual affection Cody and Sheraton developed during the 1890s and beyond. Cody had a great deal of respect for Des Barres.

Cody was not very sympathetic with Des Barres’s views on prophecy. Unlike modern Anglican evangelicals, Des Barres was a premillennialist. At a conference on prophecy in 1885 at the Queen’s Royal Hotel in Niagara-on-the-Lake, the paper he presented on “The Second Coming of Christ” went down the line with the premillennialists.¹

Cody was already developing as a fine preacher. Preaching was destined to be the central and dominant feature of his entire career in the Church. He was never a prolific writer, instead putting his effort into communication through the spoken word. Mostly he spoke from notes (written in a very small hand on a few pieces of paper). In this period his sermons were still a bit academic and high-toned. A.T. Hunter, who had heard a sermon on Balaam on April 15, 1894, objected to long words such as “monotonous” and “potentiality” and to several abstruse or classical terms. “I don’t know what chance of promotion a little mother English would mar in your profession, but were I to preach, meaning to touch men’s hearts, then I should get down to hard earth and stay down.”²

Cody stuck to the great themes of the Christian religion³ – the sovereignty of God, human sinfulness, and salvation through faith. The character of his early preaching is indicated by a survey of his sermon notes. On the Sunday following his ordination he preached from John 14:6 “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” This was a straightforward exposition of the Gospel, on much the same pattern he would use throughout his active ministry.

Later, in the 1893–97 period, Cody preached on Isaiah 6:8 (“Whom shall I send ... Here am I, send me”), using Isaiah’s call as a challenge to Cody’s listeners; and 1 Thessalonians 5:8 (“But let us who are of the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and for an helmet, the hope of salvation”).

Always an advocate of temperance, Cody preached strong temperance sermons on the subject in this period. Though his views never changed, in his later career he modified his ideas over how far the application of the principle was politically sensible.

Cody’s Lenten sermons of 1899 and 1900 on “the Men who Killed Christ” indicate his skill as a preacher.⁴ The sermons on Judas, Caiaphas, Herod, Pilate, and “the people” displayed his ability to recreate the past and to analyse character. He described Caiaphas as one who saw Christ as a menace to his power and financial position and regarded Christ’s execution as a matter of political expediency; Herod as a frivolous profligate who would not have been changed by further discussion with Christ; Pilate as a man whose shallow agnosticism allowed him to permit the great injustice, the Crucifixion.

A passage from the sermon on Caiaphas conveys Cody’s style:

You see him [Caiaphas] in that dramatic moment when probably for the first time he stands face to face with Jesus. Like a consummate actor he rends his robes and feigns to be shocked by the prisoner’s blasphemy. What an unspeakably sad consummation of the long history of Israel is this whole scene! On the one side stands the representative of that priestly line which went back to Aaron, the man whose right it was to wear the turban with the golden plate inscribed Holiness to the Lord ... Every act of his priestly office pointed forward to the one who should come in the fulness of time. Over against him stood that predestined One in whom all the history of Israel found its explanation for whom ancient prophets and seers had longed, who fulfilled all the teachings of type and shadow. The High Priest of Israel confronts the Hope of Israel and delivers Him over to the death.

Cody’s sermon on the role of “the people” (Matthew 27:22–25) throws light on his political philosophy. He thought of “the people” as the essential basis for governments, but also believed they were often ignorant, could be swayed, and were very dependent on leaders. In general he disliked “demagogues.” He said that change for its own sake was not necessarily good. He appealed to men of principle to give good leadership. Individuals should stand out against the mob, since public opinion can be wrong if it is not based on principle.

The whole Lenten series was an exercise in vivid narrative, but Cody’s purpose was to apply the story to the needs of his immediate audience. He usually did this toward the end of a sermon, but in this case it was in his introduction: “And that same story is a present reality. We must judge ourselves now as before the all seeing eye of Him with whom we have to do. Ask yourselves such questions of judgment as these: am I crucifying the Son of God afresh? Would my aims and opinions bring Jesus to Calvary if He were on earth again? Would my thoughts of Him differ from those of the ordinary men of His own day? Would I be brave enough to break the bonds of tradition, and have heart enough to recognize and follow the truth?”

As a minister Cody took on a load of activity that would have worn out many men. In the same year as his appointment at St. Paul’s, he joined the staff of Wycliffe as professor in “The Literature and Exegesis of the Old Testament” and in “Ecclesiastical History”; he was also assistant chaplain at the college from July 1, 1893. He lived at Wycliffe until his marriage in 1894.

Cody was one of the three Wycliffe professors who led Anglican evangelical thinking in Toronto. The others were Sheraton and Dyson Hague. Hague, one of the younger evangelicals, was destined to have a long career at Wycliffe and in various churches in the dioceses of Ontario, Nova Scotia, Huron, and Toronto. His special field was liturgies. A very forthright, at times tactless, man, he was especially vigorous in his Protestantism. In his book The Protestantism of the Prayer Book (1890), he claimed that the Prayer Book was “the great stumbling-block in the way of Romanizers.”⁵

Sheraton was the dominant personality of the three. An older and more established personality than the other two, he set the tone and put forward the ideas all three proclaimed. He believed in the inspiration and authority of Scripture.⁶ He regarded the Bible as the result of divine and human cooperation and repudiated the idea of “errancy” except in the sense that there were imperfect manuscripts and errors in translation. He maintained that there were no “errors” in the original text.

Cody was popular as a teacher. He was a brilliant lecturer in church history and Old Testament studies (his two courses prior to 1906). When he retired from teaching in 1916, one of his students, W.T. Hallam, wrote, “As I have told you on other occasions, your Church History and Old Testament lectures gave me more help than any others.” W.C. White, another old student, asserted that he would always remember his charm of manner, his lucid expositions couched in beautiful phraseology, and the brilliancy of his mind. To be sure they were Cody’s favourite students, but their testimony, while perhaps a bit glowing, was not unmerited.⁷

With respect to Old Testament studies Cody could be described as a moderate conservative. This was the period when controversy raged over the authorship of the Pentateuch, Moses or the post-Babylonian writers. Hallam said that Cody was a stabilizing influence in this controversy, meaning that while Cody adhered to Sheraton’s belief in a Mosaic authorship, he was prepared to discuss the opposing view. This was a technique not shared by some of his evangelical associates.

One gets a glimpse of Cody’s approach in the notes one of his students, C.K. Masters (father of the author), took on the authorship of the Pentateuch: “Vide Driver’s Introduction which gives the case for the late date ... Prof. Cody thinks such reconstruction an irresponsible reconstruction. Practical difficulty = the difficulty of saving the moral character of the writer. It is not so that people issued books under other people’s names. Here is a crucial point that it came from Moses. If it did not and came from them [the post exilic writers] then they were frauds.”⁸ Cody’s lectures, like his sermons, were based on the same premise: he always took the Bible at face value.

Cody’s own lecture notes indicate how conservative his position was in regard to the Scriptures. While many critics maintained that the book of Isaiah had several authors, Cody favoured the view that there was only one Isaiah: “Without second part of book Isaiah’s character would be a puzzle, second part simply completes and vindicates Isaiah’s character.” He regarded the events in Jonah as “within the bounds of possibility.”⁹

Cody’s church history lectures indicate that he was a moderate Calvinist.¹⁰ Like other reformed theologians he did not quarrel with Calvin’s emphasis on the sovereignty of God or on the sinfulness of man and the doctrine of election. Like most Anglican Calvinists Cody stressed the positive side of Calvinism – salvation by God’s grace. He did not dwell on its negative side, the condemnation of the wicked. Cody claimed that Calvin had much in common with the Anglican Church and that his sacramentarian doctrine was “the same as our own” (a view that would have surprised some of Cody’s high church friends). He added that Calvin “thought episcopacy most ancient but not practicable for local circumstances of Geneva.”

Cody was more critical of Calvin’s conduct at Geneva than he was of his theology, maintaining that in his vigorous enforcement of moral and religious discipline, he had shown “no deep conception of liberty of conscience.” Cody said the Church at Geneva made two mistakes: (1) it carried the attempt to enforce its laws to such as extent “as unwarrantably to curtail liberty”; and (2) its power of coercion “subverted all liberty of private judgment.” Yet, in exculpation of Calvin, he said that “stern measures were necessary.”

For obvious reasons, Cody disliked Archbishop Laud, the great exponent of the doctrine of free will (Arminianism) in the Anglican Church. Masters’s notes reported: “Laud held steadily to his purpose of purging the church of Calvinism and puritanism.” It was not a policy of which Cody could approve.

Cody’s lecture notes, particularly those on systematic theology, indicate how very Pauline his theology was. He laid tremendous emphasis on the grace of God. By God’s grace the Christian committed his or her life to Christ. By God’s grace the Christian was justified in the eyes of God. The Christian’s sins were forgiven – that is, through the sacrifice of Jesus, God’s son, they were not imputed or counted against him or her. The Christian became righteous in God’s eyes and transformed through the work of the Holy Spirit, Christ-centred instead of self-centred, with a new relationship to others. The Christian would still have to contend against sin, but through God’s grace the Holy Spirit would enable steady improvement. The Christian was “sanctified” – that is, set apart and strengthened in the fight against sin.

Cody’s view of the Church was conservative. He drew the distinction made by Calvin and many others between the invisible church (“the blessed company of all faithful people”) and the visible church, which contained many believers but also many spurious “Christians.” He did not favour the efforts of some, such as the Plymouth Brethren, to include only known believers in the visible church.

Cody’s view of the ministry was similar to that of other Anglican evangelicals. He regarded the ministry as related to the bene esse, the well-being, of the church; but he was not prepared to say that a Christian denomination that had no ministry was not a proper church. He regarded bishops as enhancing the bene esse but not essential to the esse of the church. He thought that the early Apostles could have no successors. They were witnesses of the Resurrection and endowed with miraculous powers attesting their commission. The Apostles as governors of the church could be said to have successors, but only in a loose sense, “but the Bishops are not successors of the Apostles in the sense that their office is identical or a prolongation of the apostolate.”¹¹ So much for the idea of Apostolic succession.

Cody deplored the fact that the scriptural concept of ministry had been gradually replaced by a sacerdotal concept. He believed that the sacerdotal power of forgiveness can never be exercised by man but only by God. He said that the ancient prayer of absolution as a deprecatory prayer had been retained until the thirteenth century when the Lateran Council of 1215 introduced the formula “I absolve.”

The Evangelical Churchman was very much Sheraton’s paper. Editor since 1876, he expounded the principles of the Reformation and the long struggle in Toronto between the evangelicals and their high church opponents. Over the years the paper had always been true to its principles, which it restated in 1882, pledging anew to “provide for the members of the Church of England in Canada a paper which shall unflinchingly maintain the principles of our Church as they were established at the Reformation.”¹² By the time Cody joined the Wycliffe staff, Sheraton was beginning to feel the need of more assistance on the editorial staff. Who could be more suitable than Cody?

While still at Ridley, Cody had written letters on behalf of the Evangelical Churchman inviting likely prospects to contribute articles. Once at Wycliffe, he took a more active role, becoming co-editor with Sheraton in November 1894. After that he probably did a good deal of the writing. His friend F.J. Steen, no great admirer of Sheraton’s, wrote on February 20, 1895: “You are making a vast improvement in many parts of the E.C. Your news items are excellent and so full. The editorial notes are immensely improved in character. I think the subjects of the longer editorials might sometimes be more interesting but no doubt you are pushed.” The paper still reflected Sheraton’s anti–Roman Catholic and anti–high church views. An editorial on August 2, 1894, repudiated the doctrine of the real presence in the Holy Communion.¹³ In a December 6 editorial, the Churchman asserted: “The ritualists are feeling more and more the incongruities and difficulties of their position. The nearer they approximate to Rome, the more keenly will they realize them.” This sounds more like Sheraton than Cody, who was never much given to religious controversy.

It is not certain how much influence Cody had in editorial policy. In a letter from Steen to Cody on February 20, 1895. Steen expressed his anger that Sheraton had not printed a letter in which Steen had criticized the English hymn book Hymns Ancient and Modern and had praised Moody and Sankey’s hymn book. Steen claimed that since the Churchman was dominated by influential men like S.H. Blake, it would not publish anything even mildly critical of evangelicals, while it was forever belabouring the high church party. He did not think Cody had done enough in modifying that policy: “But I did hope that now things would change, and the paper take a strong stand and mete out justice to all irrespectively of parties or individuals. But it seems that you too are bound down by your environment and in taking up the paper have been obliged to take up its past spirit and traditions which certainly are not congenial to you. Apparently the paper has never been, and cannot be, fair.”

There was some basis for Steen’s criticism of Sheraton. It will be recalled that Sheraton, while critical of premillennialism, had declined to publish Cody’s anti-premillennialism book review because he did not want to offend some of his subscribers. He explained, “I have reportedly incurred the suspicion of these people whom I greatly respect. I feared lest the insertion might draw forth their criticism and provide a controversy which at present I thought very undesirable.”¹⁴ Sheraton did not name any of the premillennialists. It is very unlikely that S.H. Blake or Homer Dixon (named by Steen as among the people to whom Sheraton deferred) were among the number. As Steen had admitted, Cody had made quite a change in the news items and the “Editorial Notes.” Editorials on social policy reflected Cody’s influence, although they showed a conservatism Sheraton would have accepted. Thus, on July 26, 1894, in reference to the great strike in the United States, the Churchman condemned lawlessness and advocated the application of the Christian spirit to the relations of capital and labour. On August 9 the “Editorial Notes” carried an item probably written by Cody on “the error of Socialism.” The writer asserted that socialists proceeded in a false estimate of human nature, assuming that man is naturally unselfish, while Christ “proclaimed that man is radically wrong, naturally selfish, and hence the necessity for individual regeneration as the only basis for social reconstruction.” On November 8, 1894 (the issue in which Cody was first listed as co-editor), the paper argued that while the church should be interested in social problems, its main concern should be to proclaim the gospel of “Christ, His atoning death, His abiding fulness, His truth, with all the eternal principles of right thinking and right living.”

In summer 1893 Cody became engaged to Florence Clarke, the organist at St. Paul’s. Florence had been appointed in 1892 at a salary of $200 per year.¹⁵ Her father, H.E. Clarke, a prosperous trunk manufacturer and member of the Ontario Legislature for Toronto West, died of a heart attack while speaking in the Legislature in March 1892. The family attended the old Methodist Church on Richmond Street West, so Florence adjusted easily to the evangelical atmosphere of St. Paul’s.

As assistant minister Cody had extensive dealings with Florence in his official capacity. At first there were misunderstandings between them. In a stilted letter, likely written on June 22, 1893, the organist agreed to meet the assistant minister on the next day, Friday, from four to six. Presumably this was supposed to be a purely professional discussion. What happened at the interview is not entirely clear, but it ended in a row, presumably a disagreement over the music program. (Cody had trouble with later organists, notably Healey Willan and Thomas Crawford.) Cody went off in a huff to visit his cousin Elijah in Chicago, and Florence, who was contemplating resignation, put in a miserable weekend. A year later (June 25, 1894) she recalled, “A year ago today you were in Chicago, and I had had my bad, very bad, quarter of an hour, and was preparing to leave St. Paul’s and you.”¹⁶

The situation soon improved. Just before Cody left Chicago to return to Toronto, he realized that he was greatly attracted to Florence. Later she recalled, “And do you remember telling me, love, one afternoon last winter, of the good-bye you said to your cousin in Chicago, and of the thought that flashed through your brain at the time? And I had so little thought that you could care for me.” After that the relationship developed quickly. Florence traced its course in a series of letters to Cody. On Sunday, July 2, Cody visited her at the Clarke house on Jarvis Street “and we talked first on the verandah and then in the library. Happy memories.” Florence talked while Cody listened, striding excitedly up and down the room. Cody returned to the Clarkes two days later and Florence began to realize that he was deeply in love. By July 21 he had taken to quoting the more romantic passages from Tennyson’s Guinevere (possibly “We needs must love the highest when we see it”). For a time Cody and Florence told no one of their mutual affection. Later in July, having attended a function at Wycliffe, they elected to see two lady friends back to their lodgings and Florence commented, “How little they imagine how far matters had progressed with us.”¹⁷ Finally, on August 12, 1893, Cody and Florence became engaged.

Judged by modern standards, Cody and Florence’s engagement was fairly long (a year). In June 1894 they were discussing the time of their wedding. They were also confronted with the prospect of a brief separation. Florence and her elder sister, Ellen, had gone to England and were staying at lodgings in London, in Cavendish Square. The people of St. Paul’s helped to solve the problem of their separation by undertaking to finance a European trip for Cody. The gift did involve a further problem: it involved good deal of travel on the continent of Europe, but Florence and Ellen wanted to stay in the British Isles. Still, it did reduce the time of her separation from Cody.

Apparently, before his arrival in Britain, Cody had made some suggestion about the date of their wedding, but Florence was still uncertain and responded on June 2: “I have promised and it is the direct wish of my heart to be your wife – and I am ready to carry out that promise with all joy whenever it shall be best for us to consummate our happiness. Until I see you and talk with you, I cannot tell whether the way is now open for us.”

Cody arrived in England on June 5 and took up lodgings near Florence and Ellen. Florence recalled how she and Cody walked about London on “that never-to-be-forgotten Saturday” (June 9). Probably on that day they agreed on August 15 as the date of their wedding in England. Cody left the next day for the Continent. Florence wrote to the senior warden of St. Paul’s, resigning from her position as organist. She also wrote to Cody about “the arrangements for the great event in August.”¹⁸

Cody now began a strenuous continental tour, visiting Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and France. He rushed around Europe with such speed that Florence’s letters arrived late at each place. She laughed at him: “Your main object on this, your first European trip, seems to be to get through with it as soon as possible.” Cody complained that his suitcase was weighed down with Baedekkars, but was proud of the fact that he did not have to depend on guides.¹⁹

Meanwhile, Florence and Ellen had gone to Scotland. On June 23 they were touring in the Edinburgh area and planning to go on to the lake country, since Ellen was tired of ruins and wanted to see some scenery. Florence wrote to Cody almost daily. She had been buying books for him (Orelli on the Minor Prophets, William Winter’s Shakespeare’s England, George Adam Smith’s book on the Holy Land). On July 1, writing from Glasgow, Florence with some diffidence told Cody “that I am fully five years older than you.” Cody had said that he would never ask but she felt that he must know. She reiterated her confession on July 12. It made no difference to Cody.²⁰

Florence and Ellen were back in London by July 8, and Florence pressed ahead with plans for the wedding. On July 12 she wrote: “I am trying to do all my shopping before you come, and I think I shall succeed pretty fairly ... Of course, beloved, I had to have a new frock to be married in. Dearest, you will not be disappointed, will you? that it could not be white. It could not be here, you see, where we shall probably walk over to the Church, together, and go through the ceremony that makes us one in the quietest possible manner. Four weeks from next Wednesday darling.”²¹

They were married at St. George’s Church Bloomsbury, on August 15, 1894. The officiant was the Rev. H.S. Stork. The only other Canadians present were Ellen and Tommy Des Barres.

Marrying in England solved several problems. Would Cody have invited his stepmother and her children, and if so, would they have come? Would Florence have been married in a Methodist Church, thus offending the people at St. Paul’s and possibly the bishop? If they were married at St. Paul’s, would her Clarke relatives, especially her mother and Ellen, have been hurt? Did Florence and Cody want a splurge or a quiet wedding? If the latter, how quiet? How many should be invited?

After an extended stay in England, the Codys arrived back in Toronto in late September. They had already agreed to live with Mrs. Clarke and Ellen. This arrangement worked well. The house at 603 Jarvis Street was just around the corner from St. Paul’s, a convenient location for Cody. Cody got on well with his in-laws, and Ellen welcomed the couple in a cordial and rather jocular letter ending, “Happy thought: – to spend your winters with us and your summers in the beautiful world across the seas. Happier thought: always to ask me to join you ‘personally conducted.’ Happiest thought: – to come home now just as fast as you can.”²² This promised well for the future and, in fact, the Codys continued at the Jarvis Street home for the rest of their married life. Mrs. Clarke died on November 6, 1898 and Ellen in 1913.

They were welcomed by the congregation of St. Paul’s at a gala reception in the schoolhouse on October 1. The rector, Mr. Des Barres, gave a felicitous speech. “He expressed regret that the happy event of the previous month had not taken place at St. Paul’s, and that the guests of the evening had stolen a march upon their friends in being wed in a distant land. They were forgiven for this, however, he assured them and were most heartily welcomed back to home and St. Paul’s.” Cody replied in equally felicitous terms, “thanking the congregation for this unexpected, but gratifying expression of their good will and affection.”²³

After these happy beginnings to his further ministry at St. Paul’s, life for Cody settled down to the regular parish and college routine. Three years later, however, his career at St. Paul’s almost came to an end.

In 1897 Cody accepted an offer from the Church of the Redeemer (located further west at the corner of Bloor and Avenue Road) to be assistant minister. The appointment was confirmed by the rector, Septimus Jones, in a letter dated March 8, 1897.²⁴ Jones recorded that Cody had met with a delegation from the Church of the Redeemer and subsequently had an interview with Jones when “the position of Assistant Minister of the Church of the Redeemer, was formally offered and accepted between us and the matter settled.” A memo was appended indicating that Cody’s salary would be $1,000 per annum (he was receiving $450 at St. Paul’s). Cody’s duties (preaching, supervising the Sunday School, sick visiting, funerals, etc.) were spelled out. It looked like a fairly onerous program, although not more than many curates performed. Subsequently, Cody accepted the appointment in writing.²⁵

When it seemed that everything was settled, Cody began to have second thoughts. He wrote to Mr. Stinson, one of the Redeemer wardens, asking for time to reconsider this acceptance: “Some further factors in the case (including my health) have since been pressed home upon me very forcibly. The way does not seem as clear to me now as it did last week. I want a few days more to consider my acceptance.”

He said he was aware that his request would seem most unsatisfactory to Mr. Stinson, but continued: “My dear Mr. Stinson, it is also a matter of gravest concern to myself. It is for me a crisis in my life. My whole future seems to depend upon it and I feel I have not been sufficiently deliberate in deciding.”²⁶

Cody also wrote to Jones repeating his request. Jones and his wardens were stunned at this sudden about-face. Stinson wrote protesting. Jones wrote two letters urging Cody to adhere to his commitment. He insisted that Cody’s agreement with the Church of the Redeemer was a binding contract. In his second letter he entreated, “Come, dear friend, redeem your promise, and throw off the agonizing burden of indecision.” Jones was willing to accept a compromise: “Try me for a year and if you find the work too heavy – or your position undesirable in other ways, then you will be able to make a change which though regretted will cast no possible reproach upon yourself.” But Cody resisted Jones’s appeal and withdrew from the Redeemer appointment.²⁷

There seems no reason to doubt that Cody’s reasons for withdrawal were primarily reasons of health. His duties at the Redeemer would have been onerous in themselves. Taken in addition to his work at Wycliffe and with the Evangelical Churchman, the load would have been too much. In this period Cody was also doing some work for Maurice Hutton at University College, where he served as “Examiner in Classics” from 1893 to 1897. Cody wrote of this to Jones: “The work is great and important. The opportunities are large. But my doctor tells me that I am at present working up to the full extent of my powers and that additional strain would probably lead to a break-down through nervous prostration.” Clearly, Cody was in an exhausted state in the period. Sheraton was concerned about his health and had written to him in 1896: “Now my dear brother you are depressed. Do choke this off. Get a tonic and take more regular exercise ... Oh cheer up. Be strong and of good courage.”²⁸ Cody’s depression in 1897 probably had an additional cause, worry during Florence’s pregnancy. Their son, Maurice, was born on July 4, 1897. There were good reasons for Cody’s withdrawal but one cannot help feeling uncomfortable about this incident with the Church of the Redeemer.

Cody’s future was decided by this decision. Two years later Cody was put in effective charge of St. Paul’s. At the Easter vestry meeting on April 17, 1899, he was offered the position of assistant rector, with a stipend of $1,500. Des Barres retained the rectorship nominally, but Cody was to carry the full responsibility for the parish. His fortunes would be linked to St. Paul’s for the next thirty-five years.