was sorry not to have heard "one of those Gospel lamentations on the folly of life and the desirableness of death, which are so gratifying to the bereaved soul !

"Have patience, O Saturnine Glum!" thought I, with bitter emotion; "perhaps I may yet realize your expectations if I remain in Bubbleton!"

It was one evening, during that week, that, returning from a visit, about eight o'clock, I found a stranger waiting for me in the study. He was a small. thoughtful-looking man, apparently about thirty-five years of age. His countenance, as I soon discovered, was susceptible of a great variety of expressions, but that which appeared most habitual was a kind of cynical melancholy, that betrayed the perversion of a nature, originally far above the ordinary level of human excellence.

He introduced himself as the editor of an antislavery newspaper, recently commenced in one of the New England cities. He was now canvassing the country for subscribers, and having a few friends in Bubbleton, and hearing that I was not inimical to the cause he had called to make my acquaintance and secure my support.

"How do you like Bubbleton?" demanded the . visitor, after he had stated his business, and I had promised him my assistance.

I gave him to understand, in a few words, that my attachment to Bubbleton was not of the most ardent nature.

Looking at me, keenly, as I spoke, he rejoined, with an impetuosity then quite unaccountable :

"Ah! I see how it is; the reäction has commenced; the mine is being sprung,- you won't remain with this parish a year: - to your credit be it said."

"You know the parish, I should infer,” said I. "Yes; no man can know it better; I have made its acquaintance to my sorrow, and to the sorrow of those dearest to me."

"You have lived in Bubbleton ?"

"Yes, as pastor of your parish: my name is Stringent!"

I grasped my predecessor's hand, and thanked him for the pleasure I derived in seeing him.

Brother Stringent was affected to tears by my cordiality.

"Ah, Brother Chester," said he, "you receive me as a brother in misfortune: I am, indeed, a weary, disappointed man; and you, young as you are, hold the key to all my weariness and disappointment. Let us sit here, in the light of your evening fire, and talk it over."

As he spoke thus, all that was harsh and cynical in his look, or voice, vanished away; and a sadness, worthy of a broken heart, invested his expressive features, and sighed in his softened speech.

Brother Stringent remained with me two days. During this visit, he canvassed Bubbleton, saw most

of his old friends and late parishioners, and related to me several incidents of his ministerial career.

These revelations afforded a picture of the ministry not to be contemplated, without an emotion bordering on despair; and yet they accorded so truthfully with my own recent experience, that I could neither regard them as fictions, nor scarcely as exceptional instances of hardship and injustice. After having heard his narrative, I expressed neither surprise nor regret when Brother Stringent informed me that he had given up the ministry.

XXVII.

INCIDENTS OF BROTHER STRINGENT'S MINISTRY.

In justice to this man's memory, I think I ought to transfer to these pages some portion of his professional history, especially as his connection with the Bubbleton parish identified many of his severest trials with mine, and proved the turning-point in his career.

I shall attempt to present this reminiscence in Brother Stringent's own language, as accurately as it can be recalled at this distance of time, and with the help of notes preserved in my diary.

"I commenced preaching in Western

I was young, ardent, and, I believe, as disinterested

*The author desires to intimate here, that he is ready to specify more particularly the scene of Brother Stringent's early labors, should any person require proof of the absolute correctness of the statements. But the indignant sensitiveness which the people of this region have already manifested, whenever any allusion has been made to their faults, renders it desirable that his inevitable mention of them in these Records, be couched in such vague terms as to baffle the discernment of his readers, and so avert from the delinquents the censure they so reasonably dread. So far as in us lies, let us live peaceably with all men.

as most of the men I have known. I was hopefuleven enthusiastic; but my expectations were rational. My pecuniary anticipations were limited to the comforts of a frugal home, and the means of pursuing those studies which my profession imposed upon me. My hopes of fame were restricted to the approval and affection of the congregations whom I might be appointed to serve.

"The societies of our faith in that region were then few, widely separated, and most imperfectly organized. Their pecuniary ability was not great compared with that of some other sects-but it might have enabled them to do vastly more for the encouragement of their ministers than was actually done. The nominal salary of a preacher who gave his whole time to a society, was two hundred dollars; though it rarely happened that more than three-fourths of this sum was collected. Itinerant ministers fared still worse. If one of these received three or four dollars for a Sunday's service, which cost him seventy miles' travel, he had reason to consider himself fortunate. It oftener happened that he received less, and, perhaps, nothing more tangible than the thanks of those to whom he had revealed the impartial Gospel of Christ. The idea had become pretty generally propagated, that it was wrong to pay for preaching. Some spirituallyminded man had made the discovery, that the Gospel -being infinitely above silver and gold-became degraded by being associated, in any manner, with so gross a thing as money. To pay a minister was to