B. That is not the point. Is it right for him to pray without remembering the heathen nations?

F. Perhaps he thinks as some others do, that there are so many who pray for the heathen, that it is not necessary for him to remember them in every prayer. But he does plead fervently for the slave when he prays.

There

B. I see you avoid answering my question; and now, my brother, look at it. are hundreds of heathen to one slave; and how is it that you can feel such a deep, all-absorbing interest for our 3,000,000 slaves, and feel comparatively so little interest for hundreds of millions of idolaters, living in the grossest spiritual darkness, sunken in every vice, and exposed to all that is terrific in the wrath of an offended God? I confess I cannot understand it.

F. I do feel for the wretched heathen; but you know there are multitudes to feel for them, while there are only a few who feel for the slave in his bondage.

B. I do not know that; I wish all Christians felt for both as they ought. Do you think I feel for the slave?

F. Some; I suppose you would like to have slavery abolished, but you do not take that active stand against it which I think every minister should.

B. What stand ought I to take?

F. As I said before, preach more pointedly against this sin-have an anti-slavery monthly concert established in the church, and urge the people to attend it.

B. Well, suppose I should; what would be the result?

F. The people would be enlightened, and would feel and act for the slave; an anti-slavery society would be speedily formed, and vigorous measures adopted to benefit the cause. B. Well, what then?

F. Why then-the-the society would pass resolutions against slavery. Money would be freely given to publish books and pamphlets, and to aid lecturers in going about the country to stir up the people. I should rejoice to have such a society here, and see my honored pastor the president of it.

Here this dialogue was interrupted; and before Mr. Farrington had another opportunity of calling upon his minister to finish it, and to

show him still further his inconsistency, he heard of the death of his only brother, who had been residing for several years in Georgia. He, being sole heir to his estate, found it necessary to repair immediately to the south. Eight slaves were left by that brother. Mr. Farrington, after duly and prayerfully considering what he should do in reference to them, came at last to the conclusion that the poor creatures were totally incapacitated to take care of themselves; and consequently out of entire and generous charity towards THEM,

SOLD them to a Christian master, who by inquiries he learned had always treated his slaves with remarkable kindness.

After his return from Georgia, he did not seem particularly desirous of resuming the conversation with his pastor upon the subject of slavery, but rather appeared to avoid it when he two or three times incidentally adverted to it.

He was heard to say "that he thought Mr. Blackenburn a most pious and excellent man; and, upon the whole, one of the most coNSISTENT ministers of the gospel he had ever known."

CHAPTER IV.

REV. THEOPHILUS MERTON.

In July 1837, an acquaintance commenced with the Rev. Mr. Merton, the pastor of the Baptist church in the populous and flourishing town of

in the state of New York. He had then been settled two years and seven months. During the first year he had baptized five; in the second year nine; and in the last seven months twenty-one. It was said that he was much beloved, both by his church and congregation. The truth or falsity of this remark we do not pretend to decide, but leave each reader to receive his own impression from the remainder of the narrative.

The church was quite large, consisting of 317 members, comprising many classes and kinds of people. The salary was $700 per annum, and with all his contriving and economy, it cost Mr. Merton more than $800 to support his family. Perhaps he was not as

skillful in managing his pecuniary concerns as some ministers are; but be that as it may, he could not live on his salary. The church were aware of this fact, and were able if they pleased, to pay three times $700, and yet they did not increase his salary.

Mr. Merton was a small man in body, but capable of considerable physical endurance, and always enjoyed good health. He was about four years on the wrong side of thirty; of mild and pleasing address; in talents, above mediocrity, and of fair and solid attainments, having passed through college and the theological seminary with much credit as a scholar. He was a godly man-preached with all his heart, and labored hard in many ways to do good to his church and congregation. He was much engaged in his work, but evidently thought too much of what the people said about him. He had a peculiar sort of sensitiveness, which if a minister is so unfortunate as to possess, he should resolutely strive to overcome; inasmuch as to some extent it stands in the way of his usefulness. Mr. Merton seemed to forget that it was impossible to please all men, and was sorely afflicted if he