burned dim, leaving them as far as ever from a decision, yet nearer the source of comfort and strength,—their hearts bound, as with fresh cords, to the horns of the altar.

As the year that exhausts their capital draws towards its close, there is a necessity for some action. Mr. Vernon, at last, resolves to make to his people a formal disclosure of his pecuniary disabilities. It cost his independence something of a struggle; and such was his knowledge of the prevailing cupidity, he had little hope of its procuring relief. Yet it would, at least, prepare the way for his departure without blame. Mary, meanwhile, had more confidence in the moral sense and good feeling of the people. She was sure they would rally to the relief of the pastor, when the case should be once clearly set before them. Edward always shook his head at this hopeful prediction, and she would retort playfully, According to thy faith, be it unto thee."

666

The important day arrived, and a goodly number was gathered, at the pastor's call, to hear his communication.

He told them, in few words, that when he received a call to settle among them, on a salary of five hundred dollars, he expressed the conviction that it was not a competent support. Yet he was then ignorant of the cost of living here, as well as their habits in regard to donations and private contributions. Hence he resolved to try. The result had been, as was known to most of them, that he had been obliged to add, from his own capital, a hundred dollars yearly to defray his ordinary current expenses. This reliance was now about exhausted. Unless some other provision could be made, he must soon involve himself in debt, or seek another field. He reminded them of his manner of life among them. He had devoted his whole ability, such as it was, to his professional work, not turning aside to any other pursuit. As to the fruit of his labours,

his acknowledgments were due elsewhere,—even to Him who hath given the increase.

One thing he would say, the Gospel is a debtor to no people, neither is the support of its ministry a charity.

If, for want of reflection, it seemed to any that five hundred dollars must be an ample support, he would go into particulars, and open the thing arithmetically. Figures will not lie.

Dollars.

There is, first, for house-rent,

Horse-keeping (to say nothing of repairs on harness,

500

75

before we come to the support of the pastor, his wife, and four children. Fifty dollars more

50

will barely cover the expense of fuel, lights, sermonpaper, and postage,

300

leaving, again,

200

or less than four dollars a week, to feed and clothe a family of six; to entertain company, and pay sickness bills; to buy books and periodicals, and educate the children; to meet incidental expenses, and the calls of systematic benevolence.

With this explanation, Mr. Vernon retired, expecting that the action of the Society would be made known to him by their committee. But he waited in vain for any response to his communication, official or private. In the weeks that followed, rumour brought, by piece-meal, to his ear, the facts which no member of the Society had the courage or courtesy to reveal to him.

It appeared that a motion was made, by Mr. Rogers, to add a hundred dollars to the salary; but it was defeated by various influences. Some thought it a hasty measure. Others, who were in favour of the thing, differed as to the mode of doing it, and had not largeness of soul enough to let relief come to the straitened minister, unless it could be rendered in their way. A few, beside, were strongly disinclined to the proposed increase of salary, partly from native penuriousness, and partly from a growing coldness toward a preacher who struck such blows at their selfish illiberality and sloth. Among them formal action was at an end. Many were disappointed, and agreed to help the minister, individually, by seasonable donations. For a few weeks, a stream of beneficence set toward the parsonage; but, like a spring freshet, it was soon exhausted. There was no native current in that direction, fed by perennial fountains. Esquire Eaton's amount of help was a load of chestnut wood, which reliable as his generosity, crackled and blazed, and soon was not. So acute and complex were the pastor's emotions, that it were difficult to tell whether these bounties gave him more pleasure or pain. A half-dozen individuals sent an offering of money, their fair proportion of the proposed addition to the salary.

Pastoral duties and sermon-making dragged heavily, at the parsonage, in these patience-trying circumstances. There was much wounded sensibility there, and some risings of "the old man," and earnest cries for deliverance from temptation, and a fresh pluming of faith's drooping wing, and an importunate turning of parched lips from broken cisterns to the living foun

tain.

"What though the springs of life were broke,

And flesh and heart should faint;

God is my soul's eternal rock,

The strength of every saint.'

CHAPTER XXXVI.

"Ah! storms and wintry weather
Reign merciless and strong."

THE months speed on, and our minister takes no steps toward a new field of labour. He is not the man to elbow his way amidst the aspirants for place. Indeed, he shrinks too sensitively from the mention of his name as a candidate abroad.

Our

One evening, after a long reverie, he says to Mary, “I foresee we shall be compelled to stay in Olney another year. expenses, too, are increasing. What do you think of selling Pompey?"

Mary started, as from sudden pain, and said, “What could you do, Edward, without a horse?"

"I don't know," said he, "because I have not tried; but, I do know that I cannot live with one."

This opened the way for the pros and cons, and it was finally resolved to make the sacrifice.

But, as

The minister's fine horse had been often coveted. Many a time he had been pointed at, with the half-envious remark, "Our minister drives the best horse in town;" or, "There goes a horse worth a hundred and fifty, any day." soon as it was known that Mr. Vernon wished to sell, the estimated value fell. True, Pompey had entered his teens, yet he had been used with care, and was as young as many a steed at ten. Mary entreated that he might not be sold to remain in Olney, lest the frequent sight of him, in other hands, should awaken too keen regrets. A business man would not have parted with him at less than a hundred dollars. But when did a poor, straitened minister ever sell an article at its maxi

mum value? Advantage was taken of his necessity, and a contract closed for seventy.

The day he was to leave, Mary fed him with apples, from her own hand, which he took with an almost human look ;her last act of kindness to the noble animal, that had been as one of the family from its first organization until now. As his new owner led him away, Mary thought his coat had never shone so glossy black, or his neck arched so proudly, or his step pranced so gayly as now. She had tried to prepare the

children for the sad event, and succeeded with all but Master Edward. Pompey was his special charge and pride;-how could he give him up?

Mr. Vernon went to his study in silence; and came down at length to dinner, with eyes that told a tale of weeping. Tears, long pent-up, took occasion of this opening of the sluices, to pour forth freely. The children got bravely through the dinner; but, afterwards, seeing her father look sadly out toward the empty stable, little Rose climbed his knee, and whispered, "Never mind, dear papa, we shall see Pompey again,"—" in heaven," she was about to say, but suddenly recollecting, she added, “O, no! he has no soul, has he? poor, dear Pompey!" and the tears rained fast through her chubby fingers, with which she tried to hide them from papa.

When the time came for young Edward's recitation, he entered the study without his books, holding a folded letter, and saying, “I have no lesson to-day, uncle. I have been writing to father and mother. Perhaps I ought to tell you," looking down, confused, "that I have asked them to let me come and live with them."

"What does this mean, Eddie? Shall I read the letter?" "I did not write it, expecting you to see it, sir; but, you may as well. It will tell you my reasons." Here the poor boy choked with emotion.