“Dr. Guide,” said the deacon, with considerable dignity, “I didn’t expect this kind of talk from you.  I have been sitting under your ministrations a good many years, and, though sometimes I didn’t think you were as sharp-set as you ought to be, still I knew you were a man of level head and good education and knew everything that was essential to salvation; otherwise, why did the best college of our own denomination make you a doctor of divinity?  But I’ve got to let out what is in my heart, doctor, and it is this, that there is no stopping-place for any one that begins to walk the straight and narrow way; he has got to keep on as long as he lives, and if he don’t he is going to be crowded off to one side.”

“You are quite right, deacon,” said the minister; “and therefore I object to putting any stumbling-blocks in any such person’s way.”

“Do you mean to say, Dr. Guide,” asked the deacon, earnestly, “that all the articles of faith that you have always taught us were essential to salvation are to be looked at as stumbling-blocks when they are offered to somebody like that poor dying sinner?”

“I mean exactly that, deacon,” said the minister, “and I mean still more, and I mean to preach earnestly on the subject in a short time, and at considerable length, that they have been stumbling-blocks to a great many members of my congregation who should by this time be better men and women than they are.  For instance, deacon,” said the minister, suddenly, looking very stern and judicial, “Mrs. Poynter has been to me several times to explain that the reason that she does not pay her subscription to the last collection for the Missionary Association is that she cannot get the interest on the mortgage that you have been holding for her for a long time, and which, she says, you have collected.”

“Dr. Guide,” said the deacon, icily, “religion is religion, and business is business.  You understand religion—­to a certain extent; though I must own that I don’t think you understand it as far as I once thought you did.  But about business, you must excuse me if I say you don’t know anything, especially if it’s business that somebody else has to carry on.  If Mrs. Poynter don’t like the way I’m doing business for her, she knows a way to get rid of me, and she can do it easily enough.”

“Deacon,” said the minister, “I don’t wish to offend you, but matters of this sort may develop into a scandal, and injure the cause for which both of us profess to be working with all our hearts.  And, by the way, the Browning children are likely to be sent away from the academy at which they are boarding, because their expenses are not paid, according to the terms of the trust reposed in you by their father.  I have been written to several times by the principal, who is an old friend of mine.  Can’t the matter be arranged in some way so that I shall not hear any more about it?  I have no possible method of replying in a manner that will satisfy the principal.”