letter which he had commenced to write to Beecher before him, when Tozer, who was now his constant visitor, came in. There could be no doubt of the butterman's honest and genuine sympathy, but, unfortunately, there was just as little doubt that Tozer took a pleasure in managing the minister's affairs at this crisis, and piloting him through the troubled waters. Tozer did all but neglect his business to meet the emergency; he carried matters with rather a high hand in the meetings of the managing committee; he took absolute control, or wished to do so, of Vincent's proceedings. "We'll tide it over, we'll tide it over," he said, rubbing his hands. To go in, in this state of mind, secure in his own resources and in the skill with which he could guide the wavering and half-informed mind of Salem, fluctuating as it did between horror and sympathy, doubtful whether to take up the minister's cause with zeal, or to cast him off and disown him, and to find the minister himself giving in, deserting his post at the most critical moment, and making useless all that his patron was doing for him, was too much for the deacon's patience. He sat down in indignant surprise opposite Vincent, and struck his stick against the floor involuntarily, by way of emphasis to his words. "Mr. Vincent, sir, this ain't the thing to do-- I tell you it ain't the thing to do. Salem has a right to expect different," cried Tozer, in the warmth of his disappointment; "a congregation as has never said a word, and office-bearers as have stuck by you and stood up for you whatever folks liked to say! I'm a man as will never desert my pastor in trouble; but I'd like to know what you call this, Mr. Vincent, but a deserting of me? What's the good of fighting for the minister, if he gives in and sends for another man, and won't face nothing for himself? It's next Sunday as is all the battle. Get that over, and things will come straight. When they see you in the pulpit in your old way, and all things as they was, bless you, they'll get used to it, and won't mind the papers no more nor--nor I do. I tell you, sir, it's next Sunday as is the battle. I don't undertake to answer for the consequences, not if you gives in, and has Mr. Beecher down for next Sunday. It ain't the thing to do, Mr. Vincent; Salem folks won't put up with that. Your good mother, poor thing, wouldn't say no different. If you mean to stay and keep things straight in Carlingford, you'll go into that pulpit, and look as if nothing had happened. It's next Sunday as is the battle." "Look as if nothing had happened!--and why should I wish to stay in Carlingford, or--or anywhere?" cried Vincent, in a momentary outbreak of dejection. But he threw down his pen, and closed his blotting-book over the half-written letter. He was too wretched to have much resolution one way or another. To argue the matter was worse than to suffer any consequences, however hard they might be.