to the one held in the village.  At each several conversions occurred, making a fair aggregate in all.  These extensive labors taxed me severely, and finally brought on an attack of fever.  I was taken during Sunday night, after preaching in Watertown both morning and evening.  The attack was so violent that before morning I had become deranged, and my life was despaired of.  But through my wife’s faithful watching and the good Providence of God, I was able to resume my labors in three weeks.

It now became apparent that a severe financial pressure was upon us.  I had spent what I could immediately command of my own funds, and the good brethren had contributed so generously out of their scanty means, to place the Church in condition for use, that they could not meet the Pastor’s salary.  I saw clearly that some other provision must be made.

While casting about to find my direction, a Providential opening occurred.  Rev. Mr. Hoyt, the Episcopal clergyman, who had been keeping a Latin school for some time in the village, was compelled through illness to desist from teaching.  Fortunately, I had gone down several times at his request, and relieved him in hearing his classes in Greek and Latin.  This little kindness, added to the fact I was one of the School Commissioners of the county, naturally directed attention to me, as the person to open a select school in the village.  I embraced the opportunity.  The Trustees kindly consented to the use of the Church for the purpose.  As the seats were only temporary, they were easily adjusted to the new order of things, and a school of sixty students was soon organized.  This new demand upon me greatly abridged the pastoral work, but there seemed to be no other way to live.  Before I could realize anything, however, from the school, we found ourselves in very considerable embarrassment.  In this emergency, my wife opened her doors for a few boarders, which met the immediate demands of the table.

But at this juncture of our affairs, an incident occurred that afforded relief in another direction.  My coat had become, through long wear and exposure, not a little seedy.  On entering the pulpit one Sabbath morning I found a note lying on the Bible.  I opened it and read as follows:  “Will Mr. Miller have the goodness to preach this morning from the Text, ‘I have put off my coat, and how shall I put it on?’” The note was written in a delicate hand and gave evidence of no ordinary cultivation.  At the conclusion of the reading, I gave a searching glance over the congregation, but could make no face present plead guilty to the accusation of impertinence.