to be good. He preaches just as I wants him to. My boys think him a
little man, but a great divine. You would like to hear the Elder on
Sunday; he's funny then, and has a very funny sermon, which you may
get by heart without much exertion." The young man seems indifferent
to the conversation. He had not been taught to realise how easy it
was to bring religion into contempt.

"Make no grave charges against me, Marston; you carry your practical
jokes a little too far, Sir. I am a quiet man, but the feelings of
quiet men may be disturbed." The Elder speaks moodily, as if
considering whether it were best to resent Marston's trifling
sarcasm. Deacon Rosebrook now interceded by saying, with unruffled
countenance, that the Elder had but one thing funny about him,-his
dignity on Sundays: that he was, at times, half inclined to believe
it the dignity of cogniac, instead of pious sentiment.

"I preach my sermon,-who can do more?" the Elder rejoins, with
seeming concern for his honour. "I thought we came to view the
plantation?"

"Yes, true; but our little repartee cannot stop our sight. You
preach your sermon, Elder,--that is, you preach what there is left
of it. It is one of the best-used sermons ever manufactured. It
would serve as a model for the most stale Oxonian. Do you think you
could write another like it? It has lasted seven years, and served
the means of propitiating the gospel on seven manors. Can they beat
that in your country?" says Marston, again turning to the young
Englishmam, and laughing at the Elder, who was deliberately taking
off his glasses to wipe the perspiration from his forehead.