to your proposition, but as for myself, I find it all I can do to pay my own debts!'

"And this man, positively, never paid me a shilling!

"These incidents would not merit notice, were they isolated cases. But they accurately illustrate a characteristic of that section of country, at the time to which I allude, and offer no exaggerated estimate of the trials to which ministers of our faith were liable. Nor should I infer that there has been much improvement, even yet, as regards many of the towns - judging from all that I hear of the poverty of those who labor in that ungrateful region.

"O, Brother Chester! if all the true servants of God could be summoned, in their glory, before us, I believe that the patient heroism of those obscure pioneers, would rival the brightness of the saints we have canonized!"*

*The following statement by a Presbyterian minister of Indiana, which is copied from a recent number of the Centre Christian Herald, shows that Brother Stringent's experience is not without a parallel in our time perhaps it may be but fair to consider it an "extreme case"?

"We live on less than two hundred dollars per annum, including horse-keeping and travelling expenses; and my travelling in a year is not less than three thousand miles. I have to go to a neighboring wood and fell down the trees, chop them into ten or twelve feet logs, hitch my horse to them, drag them to the house, chop, saw and split them for stove-fuel, and then, after preaching two sermons a week, riding most weeks fifty or sixty miles, teaching Sabbathschool, riding three miles to post-office and store, &c. -even then I am accused by my brethren of doing nothing but riding about and reading my books,' and told I might work a little, and earn a part of my living!'"

XXVIII.

BEARING THE LIGHT IN A DARK PLACE.

"AFTER leaving Ducksburgh," resumed Brother Stringent, "I flattered myself that a more promising field was offered me in Bunkerville. Bunkerville is situated just within the borders of an adjoining state. It is a romantic village, of about fifteen hundred inhabitants, bounded by finely-wooded hills, and washed by one of the noblest of our rivers. The leading employment of the place is lumbering; and, in the spring season, when the river is swollen by the melted snow and abundant rain, the Sabbath is practically abrogated for several weeks, and the whole place becomes a scene of petty traffic, boisterous labor, and profane uproar.

"In this village, the doctrines of our faith had been cherished by a few worthy families during many years, but by the community at large, they were little understood,― never having enjoyed the advantages of a settled and permanent ministry. My settlement in the place was viewed as an experiment, since it was considered uncertain whether there were people enough

interested in the diffusion of our sentiments, to afford me an adequate support. The beginning of my course, however, was quite promising. There seemed to be a great interest awakened in regard to our meetings. The novelty of the doctrines advanced drew a crowd of hearers, that completely filled the large court-house, where our services were held. Favorable expressions were elicited from many of the leading men of the village. Generous offers, of a pecuniary nature, were tendered. In short, such was my inexperience, and such my hopefulness of disposition, that I anticipated wonderful things as the result of my labors.

"But this conceited expectation did not survive the experience of six months. I was soon made to realize how transient and unreliable all this apparent interest was. Having heard a statement of my faith, and seen an inventory of its evidences, and having had their torpid sensibilities exhilarated by the excitement of controversy, the majority of my early hearers appeared to conclude that no further advantage was to be realized from my preaching, especially as I had, more than once, turned aside from the fruitful themes of debate, to urge upon my frivolous auditors, the necessity of conforming their characters to the divine principles of the faith I proclaimed.

"I had begun to observe, with disappointment and despondency, a gradual decline of interest that threatened to terminate, at no distant period, the services so hopefully commenced, when one of my most zealous

friends obligingly resolved to give me the benefit of his counsel.

"I think,' said he, 'you'd better give us a little more doctrine, and leave the practical part of the faith till the people get better grounded. I notice that everybody likes to hear our doctrines preached,— even the irreligious seem to enjoy them, they are so animating, so consoling, so glorious. But your practical sermons-though I like them, myself- don't somehow take so well, with the major part of the congregation. I observe that some are quite restless, under such sermons as cut too deep; and, when the ́meeting is over, they go out shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads, as if worried by the sting of some truth you had darted into their consciences.

'Now, Brother Stringent, a horse flinches from the harness that galls him, and a man avoids the preacher who gives him a sore conscience. It's the nature of both animals to do so. How shall we manage to retain their services? — for dispense with them, we cannot. With the horse, we can come to an understanding, by softening his collar and reducing his load; or, by an exercise of arbitrary power, compel him to serve us on our own terms. But the man is the more enlightened and the more stubborn animal, -the thistle-eating quadruped is no match for him, with respect to wilfulness, and the longest-tailed peacock can give one no idea of his conceit.Him we must prudently conciliate, we must touch his faults gingerly, and, as it were, by accident-not permit

ting him to see the hand that wounds him,—and suffering the bitterness of judgment to season the Gospel feast, only in the proportion of an ounce of pill to a ton of sugar!'

"As I appeared somewhat restive under this advice, and seemed ready to controvert the principle it involved, my friend—with the air of a man confident of the security of his position-began to attack me with facts.

"There's Judge Birch,' said he, ‘a man who admired you unspeakably, the first six weeks, and offered to give us fifty dollars toward the erection of a church. Now he's off-huffy as a Turk; and the Catholics will have the benefit of his money. What a pity you should have given that temperance harangue, just as the judge was recovering from that scandalous train, and when he knew the thing was fresh in everybody's mind! It's true, you hit the nail on the head, but then the nail split the pillar- there's the trouble! The judge has withdrawn, and with him, half a dozen friends - the Poppies, the Dallies, and old Simon Meadows-people whom we can ill afford to lose.

"Then there's old Mr. Abraham Brass, who used to sit so erect, with his crooked cane under his chin, and his mouth wide open with the eagerness of his interest, you've driven him off by that terribly sharp sermon on profanity. He says you meant him, and that everybody knows you did, and declares he