continually that he may, an' I shall try to do all I can to help 'im.'

Though Paul's mind was greatly relieved by the consciousness that he had done his duty in taking the first step toward making his peace with God, yet the events of the evening had been so startling and the effect on his mind so great, in addition to the exhaustion he had undergone in passing through his trying ordeal, that his slumber that night was no more peaceful or refreshing than on the preceding nights; and when he rose the next morning he looked as though he were on the verge of a serious illness. Joshua's thoughts had been too much engrossed for the past month with his revival work for him to notice his son particularly. Now, however, he looked at the boy with new interest, observed that he appeared unwell, and remarked to Mary, out of Paul's hearing:

66 Paul don't seem to be lookin' fust rate. I guess he mus' be studyin' an' playin' too hard at school. I was by the schoolhouse Friday at recess and saw him out in the road tryin' to ketch on a bobsled."

"Yes," replied Mary-she usually began her reply to whatever Joshua said by answering "yes," even if she contradicted it with the next breath-" an' I think he's b'en more worked up in his mind than we've realized. I didn't notice or think of it, though, till Sister Willett spoke of it last night walkin' home. But the meetin's 'll soon be over now, an' school'll be out next week, an' he can go to bed earlier then an' won't have nothin' to do in the daytime.

The more Joshua looked at the boy, however, the more he was convinced that there was something the matter with him besides religious conviction. He didn't eat his buckwheat "pancakes" and pork fat, and his potatoes and pork fat, even when the quantity of fat was liberally increased, with the avidity he had shown early in the winter. And the biscuits, spread with pork fat, that Mary made for Paul's lunch were often brought home at night untasted. Joshua was sure that Paul was too young to lose his appetite on account of the condition of his soul. So he said to Mary:

"I guess Paul's blood mus' be out o' order, an' I wouldn't wonder 'f some good hummade bitters 'd be good to cleanse it. Nex' time you go over to Sister Moody's you'd better git some o' thet stuff she makes."

JOSHUA AS MAN AND CITIZEN

53

Mary said she would; and she did. The result-result of something-was that Paul began to pick up after a week or two, and in the course of five or six weeks had largely recovered his strength, and ate and slept much better. Naturally Joshua's faith in Sister Moody's "hummade bitters" was materially strengthened.

Joshua Granger was a good worker for everybody but himself. When he hired out to do a day's work he kept his row up with any man. But when he had finished his day's or week's or month's labor and got his wages for it, the money was spent without method, or purpose, or judgment. Whatever he did for himself he did in an aimless, desultory way. Whereas some men seem to have a faculty for turning everything to account, Joshua Granger seemed to have a faculty for turning everything to no account. Many of his frugal and industrious neighbors looked on him with a feeling akin to contempt, and he knew it. Moreover, he shared the feeling to some extent, conscious that there was ground for it. He was in a chronic state of dissatisfaction with himself and all things about him. He felt aggrieved, abused, ill-treated, as though all the world were against him.

One reason for this condition of mind was the fact that he was conscious of having humiliated himself, made himself more or less an object of charity, by putting forward a claim to contributions of food from his neighbors on account of his preaching. He was conscious that he had sacrificed his independence and self-respect in this way, and he felt degraded by it. Yet he could not understand why he should feel so, because he had Scripture authority for his action, and it was precisely what ordained ministers were doing all the time. He sometimes wondered whether they all felt about it as he did. He was pretty sure that Mr. Shore felt so.

The contrast between Joshua Granger exhorter, and Joshua Granger man of affairs, was striking. When he rose behind the teacher's desk in the Sugar Hill schoolhouse to preach, he appeared not merely as a man among men but as a leader of men. Notwithstanding his meager education, his ungrammatical language, his awkward gestures, and his somewhat uncouth manner of speech, there was a degree of dignity, force, and manliness in his bearing that

gave weight to what he said and made his listeners forget for the time that it was only Josh Granger who was speaking. What he was on such occasions was like a far-off, confused echo of what, under other circumstances, with true conceptions of life, he might have been. That energy and enthusiasm of his, now dissipated in idle dreaming or empty preaching, if turned into channels of practical usefulness would have been a worthy addition to the sum of effort for relieving the distress of humanity and lifting it out of the mire of ignorance and superstition.

66

No sooner had the amen" of the benediction left his lips, however, than Joshua dropped back to his position of obscurity and insignificance in the busy community in which he lived. In worldly things he was weak, irresolute, vacillating, "unstable as water.' Heavenly castles of inexpressible grandeur, filled with glittering delights, were constantly rearing themselves in his disordered fancy, to be harbored and gloated over by him as evidences of the "blessing," glorious visions of what was to be. He believed he had clearer conceptions of the Christian's reward than had his neighbors, because he was devoting his life more fully than they to the service of God. The many hours he spent in contemplation and in the reading and thought necessary to the preparation of his sermons, utterly unfitted him for the plain, homely, every-day duties of life and the commonplaces of the world about him. Physical toil became irksome to him because his heart was no longer in it.

Joshua had not always been such a man. When he began to "wait on " Mary ten years before, but a few months before their marriage, he was an energetic, hard-working young man of twenty-five years, full of life and spirits, ready to help anybody in trouble, and a general social favorite. True, he had never laid up any money, though for several years prior he had earned good wages, at farmwork in summer and at lumbering in winter; but Mary thought nothing of that. She had an indistinct idea that men generally laid up nothing, or little, before they married. She knew she loved Joshua and he loved her, and, happy in that knowledge, she thought they would just marry and settle down and accumulate things around them as other people did, as the years went by. So, late in the winter they were married, with less than twenty-five dollars in Joshua's pocket. The following summer they both worked

JOSHUA'S CONVERSION AND

"CALL"

55

for Farmer Krater, Joshua out-doors and Mary in the house. In the fall Joshua rented a small house, and with their joint accumulations of the summer they bought the necessaries for housekeeping. Mary had expected hard work and a ⚫small establishment at first, so she was happy and content. There was one thing, however, that caused her some sorrow and anxiety: Joshua had never been converted. So, during the first winter after their marriage she got him to attend a series of revival meetings at the old Sugar Hill schoolhouse, the log predecessor of the present structure. Joshua was among the first to come out. He had always been enthusiastic in everything he undertook, and he carried his enthusiasm into his religion. When he announced a few days after his conversion that he felt called to preach, Mary's joy knew no bounds. Joshua began to study the Bible industriously, as well as to improve every opportunity for exhortation, with the result that before the winter was over he had won warm praise from the older laborers in the revival field for the earnestness and ability he displayed.

As the months went by he paid more and more attention to his ministerial work and less and less attention to the matter of earning bread and butter for his wife, and for the child that was soon to come to them. But Joshua felt that in doing the Lord's work he was justified in neglecting all earthly matters; in which view Mary acquiesced.

Joshua, however, was not lacking in affection for his wife and son. He usually treated them with kindness, even indulgence, in his way. His worst habit about home was a disposition to lose his temper over trifles and vent his ill humor in small acts of petulance. On such occasions he was fretful and disagreeable. If in driving a nail he happened to hit his thumb, he would probably hurl the hammer across the room, and perhaps kick a chair; then, after a moment he would pick up the hammer and go to work again. At such times Mary never said a word or showed by look or act that she was aware of anything unusual.

Of course he was never profane, though he did sometimes use a few mild substitutes for profanity, like "plague take it," or consarn it." He had once, two years after his conversion, in a moment of great provocation and utter loss of self-control, ejaculated "condemn it "; but he quickly and sorely repented of having used this semi-profane expression, and it never passed his lips again.

CHAPTER 8

A PREACHER DISCOMFITED BY A WEAKER VESSEL

DEACON HEZEKIAH WILLETT and his wife Susan were in strong contrast, both mentally and physically; though both were pictures of robust health. He was bulky, heavy, and slow, with a big, round, good-natured face and commonly an air of placid content with all things. He never did anything in a hurry. He couldn't. It was not in his nature. But he kept plodding straight ahead at whatever he undertook; and inasmuch as he never undertook more than he was reasonably sure he could do in the time he had for it, he usually carried through what he set out to do, and in the course of time did a good deal. With him it was always slow motion but no lost motion. A man of few words, what he did say was well considered before he said it, and carried weight and influence with those who knew him. He had a reputation for sound sense and judgment on all practical affairs within the range of his experience and observation.

There were two topics, however, in regard to which his neighbors thought him astonishingly obtuse or obstinatepolitics and religion. These topics might have caused some dissension between the Deacon and the outspoken and plain-spoken folk about him, but for one fact: he wouldn't talk politics and he wouldn't talk religion-always a safe position, even if not a courageous one, to take when in a hostile atmosphere. In the Deacon's case it was not only safe but sensible, because no one knew better than he that discussion was not his field. On reaching manhood he had joined the church and the political party of his father, and some years later he had married sweet, sensible, womanly Susan Tyler. Each of these decisions and events was with him a permanent arrangement. He would as soon have thought of changing his wife as of changing his politics or his religion; nor was there any more disposition on his part to overhaul or examine his religion or his politics and compare them with others than to compare his wife with Betsey Dent and wonder whether he had not made a mistake and whether he had not better try to swap with Elath.