the idea, that it was exceedingly pernicious to a minister "to give him more money than just enough to keep soul and body comfortably together." He unhesitatingly remarked, to the no small astonishment of his friends, "that he firmly believed more ministers had been injured by large salaries than in any other way, because it made them vain, and spoiled their usefulness."

To enforce this point he once used the following very expressive and dignified illustration, before about ten brethren, who composed a church meeting. "There was Mr. R-,' said he, "when he was settled in N a very pleasant and fine man. I used to like to meet him, he was so kind and agreeable; but after he went to the city of and had

was

a large salary, I once called on him, and he pretended he did not know me at first, but when in N, it was always 'Br. Greedy, br. Greedy.' His great salary had puffed him up, and he was so big with importance, that I couldn't have touched him with a ten foot pole."

After having fatigued himself by this excessive effort of intellect and eloquence, Mr.

Greedy sat down, evidently highly delighted with the tremendous impression he supposed he had made upon the minds of his brethren.

All that we have now related of Mr. Greedy, was applicable to him ten years since. He is still living, and is now, in some respects, an altered man for the better. The church some eight or nine years ago took up his case, and dealt with him severely for his avarice. First they suspended him, and then excluded him; but finally he was restored, and since that time he has been more liberal than he was before. His giving, however, has not yet impoverished him, nor has it proved any serious detriment to his estate; and he still retains enough of the miser's spirit to prevent his heirs from fearing that such a catastrophe would speedily happen.

His children, with the exception of the youngest, do not live at home. The eldest is a married man, a thriving mechanic in Rhode Island; the next is the second mate of a Liverpool packet ship; and the third is a clerk in a dry goods store in the city of B—. We are inclined to think these sons did not profit much from their father's oft repeated maxim

already mentioned, especially the son of the ocean, who, with a sailor's prodigality, takes care of neither pence nor pound. The daughter at home, some intimate, is more like her father than either of her brothers.

The sons very seldom visit the paternal mansion. The sailor does, more than the others; and it has been hinted to us that the reason is, because there is a certain magnet in a neighboring house to his father's, that exerts quite a powerful attraction upon him.

We hope Mr. Greedy's sons are not undutiful. The clerk says he is not. His business confines him rather closely, and he says, "I do not like to go home on account of the cattle; because they look so poor and lean they deprive me of all the enjoyment I otherwise might receive. Were it not for that, I should like very much to spend a few days at home, as often as I could be spared from the store."

It is due, however, to Mr. Greedy, to say that none of his cattle have died in the winter, since he was disciplined by the church.

CHAPTER VII.

A COLLOQUY.

Scene.-Deacon Stephen Martin's store, in the bustling village of, in New Hampshire. Present, br. Reuben Jones, sitting on a barrel of flour, br. Jared L. Smith, sitting on the counter, br. George Orlow, standing against the desk, and deacon Martin behind it, just receipting br. Orlow's bill.

Jones. Deacon, don't you think it strange our minister preaches so much from notes, when he knows so many of us are opposed to

'em?

Dea.

Why-y-e-s-I—should think he would preach more without them, and I have told him so, but he thinks he knows better than we do how to preach.

Smith. I have told him the same thing, and he said to me that he thought he could preach better to use 'em sometimes.

Jones. Sometimes! he now scarcely ever preaches without 'em.

Dea. I think he uses them more than he did when he was first settled among us.

Jones. That he does! Why the first year he didn't use 'em much. Once in a while he would have a little scrap of paper, but now he uses 'em every Sabbath.

Smith. I guess not every Sabbath!

Jones. Well I guess he does. I don't believe there has been a Sabbath for the last two months, but what he's used 'em-do you, deacon?

Dea. Well I can't say as to that. I have not taken particular notice to see whether he uses them every Sabbath or not, but I know he uses them a great deal more than he did. I don't think it will do any good to talk with him any more about it-I have, two or three times, and have made up my mind to let him take his own course; for he has a right to preach as he chooses.

Jones. I know he has a right to, but I should think he would want to please the people.

Smith. I tell you he thinks he can preach better if he uses notes part of the time.

Jones. I don't care if he does think so; he