"Fine day, Mr. Ellet," said a country clergyman to Ruth's father, as he
sat comfortably ensconced in his counting-room. "I don't see but you
look as young as you did when I saw you five years ago. Life has gone
smoothly with you; you have been remarkably prospered in business, Mr.
Ellet."
"Yes, yes," said the old gentleman, who was inordinately fond of talking
of himself; "yes, yes, I may say that, though I came into Massachusetts
a-foot, with a loaf of bread and a sixpence, and now,--well, not to
boast, I own this house, and the land attached, beside my country-seat,
and have a nice little sum stowed away in the bank for a rainy day; yes,
Providence has smiled on my enterprise; my affairs are, as you say, in a
_very_ prosperous condition. I hope religion flourishes in your church,
brother Clark."
"Dead--dead--dead, as the valley of dry bones," replied Mr. Clark
with a groan. "I have been trying to 'get up a revival;' but Satan
reigns--Satan reigns, and the right arm of the church seems paralysed.
Sometimes I think the stumbling-block is the avaricious and
money-grabbing spirit of its professors."
"Very likely," answered Mr. Ellet; "there is a great deal too much of
that in the church. I alluded to it myself, in my remarks at the last
church-meeting. I called it the accursed thing, the Achan in the camp,
the Jonah which was to hazard the Lord's Bethel, and I humbly hope
my remarks were blessed. I understand from the last Monthly Concert,
brother Clark, that there are good accounts from the Sandwich Islands;
twenty heathen admitted to the church in one day; good news that."
"Yes," groaned brother Clark, to whose blurred vision the Sun of
Righteousness was always clouded; "yes, but think how many more are
still, and always will be, worshipping idols; think how long it takes a
missionary to acquire a knowledge of the language; and think how many,
just as they become perfected in it, die of the climate, or are killed
by the natives, leaving their helpless young families to burden the
'American Board.' Very sad, brother Ellet; sometimes, when I think of
all this outlay of money and human lives, and so little accomplished,
I--" (here a succession of protracted sneezes prevented Mr. Clark from
finishing the sentence.)
"Yes," replied Mr. Ellet, coming to the rescue; "but if only _one_
heathen had been saved, there would be joy forever in heaven. He who
saveth a soul from death, you know, hideth a multitude of sins. I think
I spoke a word in season, the other day, which has resulted in one
admission, at least, to our church."
"It is to be hoped the new member will prove steadfast," said the
well-meaning but hypochondriac brother Clark, with another groan. "Many
a hopeful convert goes back to the world, and the last state of that
soul is worse than the first. Dreadful, dreadful. I am heartsick,
brother Ellet."
"Come," said Ruth's father, tapping him on the shoulder; "dinner is
ready, will you sit down with us? First salmon of the season, green
peas, boiled fowl, oysters, &c.; your country parishioners don't feed
you that way, I suppose."
"N--o," said brother Clark, "no; there is no verse in the whole Bible
truer, or more dishonored in the observance, than this, 'The laborer
is worthy of his hire.' I'll stay to dinner, brother Ellet. You have,
I bless God, a warm heart and a liberal one; your praise is in all the
churches."
A self satisfied smile played round the lips of Ruth's father, at
this tribute to his superior sanctity; and, seating himself at the
well-spread table, he uttered an unusually lengthy grace.
* * * * *
"Some more supper, please, Mamma," vainly pleaded little Nettie.