“I’m somewhat fatigued; but it’s the fatigue of loving to do good,” he says, rubbing his hands very piously, and giving a look of great ministerial seriousness at the good lady.  We will omit several minor portions of the Elder’s cautious introduction of his humane occupation, commencing where he sets forth the kind reasons for such a virtuous policy.  “You honestly think you are serving the Lord, do you?” enquires the lady, as she takes her seat.

The Elder evinces surprise at such a question.  Hath he moved among Christians so many years, ministering to spiritual wants, and yet the purity of his motives be questioned?  “Good madam! we must have faith to believe.  All that is meant well should be accepted in the greatness of the intention.  You will observe, I am neither a lawyer nor a politician; I would’nt be for the world!  We must always be doing something for the good of others; and we must not forget, whilst we are doing it, to serve the Allwise one; and while we are effecting the good of one we are serving the designs of the other.”  Thus emphatically spoke the Elder, fingering a book that lay on the table.  “I buy sick people, I save the dying, and I instruct them in the ways of the Lord as soon as they are cured, and-” And here the Elder suddenly stops.

“Add, Mr. Praiseworthy, that when you have cured them, and instructed them in the way of the Lord, you sell them!” interrupts the lady, watching the sudden changes that pass over his craven features.

“I always get them good masters; I never fail in that.  Nor do I stand upon the profit-it’s the humanity I takes into the balance.”  He conceives good under the motley garb of his new mission.

“Humanity-strange humanity, with self coiled beneath.  Why, Mr. Praiseworthy!” the lady starts from her seat, and speaks with emphasis, “do you tell me that you have become a resurrection man, standing at the platform of death, interposing with it for a speculation?”

“It’s no uncommon business, Madam; hundreds follow it; some have got rich at it.”

“Got rich at it!” Mrs. Rosebrook interrupts, as a sagacious looking cat bounds on the table, much to the discomfiture of the Elder, who jumps up in a great fright,—­“What irresistible natures we have; may heaven save us from the cravings of avarice!”

The Elder very methodically puts the interrupting cat upon the floor, and resumes his seat.  “Why, bless us, good madam, we must have something to keep our consciences clear; there’s nothing like living a straightforward life.”

“What a horrible inconsistency!  Buying the sick and the dying.  May the dead not come in for a portion of your singular generosity?  If you can speculate in the dying why exclude the dead? the principle would serve the same faith in Christianity.  The heart that can purchase the dying must be full of sad coldness, dragging the woes and pains of mortality down to a tortuous death.  Save us from the feelings of speculation,—­call them Christian, if you will,—­that makes man look upon a dying mortal, valuing but the dollars and cents that are passing away with his life,” she interrupts, giving vent to her pent-up feelings.