For many years Fowler had hardly set foot in church, excepting once to attend the funeral of a relation, and twice as godfather to the children of two of his friends. Though he had not shewn any positive disrespect to Mr. Hooker to his face, yet he was in the habit of laughing at him behind his back, and of trying to turn whatever he did or said in the execution of his sacred office--and indeed his office itself--into ridicule. In this, according to the opinion of his thoughtless and profligate companions, he succeeded tolerably well; for he had a turn for low humour; and it is sometimes found, the more sacred any thing is, the greater is the effect of representing it in a ludicrous point of view, to those who are unrestrained by any sense of decency or of religion. From Mr. Hooker he had never received any thing but tokens of kindness, but he disliked him, because he knew that he disapproved of his manner of going on, and still more, for one or two admonitions which he had received from him. He now felt ashamed of his former disrespectful behaviour towards his worthy minister. The fever having entirely left him, Mr. Hooker determined to take advantage of the opportunity which this accident afforded, for the purpose of endeavouring to bring Fowler to some proper sense of religion. He accordingly often talked to him in the most serious manner, trying both to inform his understanding, and to affect his heart. One day when he called, he found Barton sitting by the bed side. The farmer immediately got up to go away; Fowler, however, begged him to stay; and Mr. Hooker was not without hopes, that what he said might not be entirely lost upon Barton, of whose religious sentiments he had but an unfavourable opinion. After making use of the prayers in the Visitation Office, he represented to Fowler the folly of living without God in the world; the hateful nature of sin; and the awful consequences of continuing in sin without repentance. He spoke of the great atonement, but told him that the benefits even of that would be lost to those who continued hardened and impenitent. He added a few words upon the particular vice of drunkenness, upon its tendency to lead on to almost all other sins without exception, and upon its dreadful punishment in the world to come, since _drunkards can not inherit the kingdom of God_. Fowler appeared to be attentive, and to feel what was said, and Barton looked every now and then a little uneasy. His uneasiness was occasioned, not by the slightest degree of apprehension for his own religious interests, but by the wound which his _good-nature_ received, at hearing such strong things said. The farmer accompanied Mr. Hooker down stairs; but the moment he had quitted the house, exclaimed, "I wish, Nanny, you would not let the parson come to your husband any more. I'm sure it's enough to make a man ill to hear him talk." "Why, what's the matter?" said Nanny, "what's the matter?"