“Why wouldn’t he be the man for us?” said I.

Mr. Wheaton exclaimed against me, “Too old,” said he.

“Besides he’s got five children,” said Mr. Hardcap.

“What’s that got to do with it?” said I.  “So has Deacon Goodsole; but he’s none the worse for that.”

“We can’t afford to support a man with a large family,” said Mr. Hardcap.  “We must get a young man.  We can’t possibly afford to pay over $1,200 a year, and we ought not to pay over $1,000.”

“Oh!” said I; “do we grade the ministers’ salaries by the number of the minister’s children?”

“Well we have to consider that, of course,” said Mr. Hardcap.

“Solomon wasn’t so wise as he is generally thought to be,” said Mr. Gear sarcastically, “or he never would have written that sentence about blessed is he whose quiver is full of them!”

“Well,” said Mr. Hardcap, “all I’ve got to say is, if you get a man here with five children you can pay his salary, that’s all.”

“When you take a job Mr. Hardcap,” said I, “do you expect to be paid according to the value of the work or according to the size of your family?”

“Oh! that’s a very different thing,” said Mr. Hardcap, “very different.”

“Any way,” said Mr. Wheaton, “Mr. Elder is entirely out of the question—­entirely so.  Mr. Laicus can hardly have proposed him seriously.”

“Why out of the question, gentlemen?” said I.  “He is a good preacher.  Our congregation know him.  He is a faithful, devoted pastor.  We shall do Wheatensville no injustice, for it cannot give him a support.  As to age, he is certainly not infirm.  I do not believe he is a year over forty-five.”

“No! no!” said Mr. Wheaton, decidedly.  “It is utterly out of the question.  We must have a young man, one who is fresh, up with the spirit of the age; one who can draw in the young men.  The Methodists are getting them all.”

“And the young girls too,” said Mr. Gear dryly.

I wish Mr. Gear were not on this committee.  The Deacon meant well.  But he made a blunder.

“Very well, then, gentlemen,” said I; “if we want a fresh man let us go right to the theological seminary and get the best man we can find there.”

“The seminary!” said Mr. Wheaton.  He received this suggestion even more disdainfully than the previous one.  “We must have a man of experience, Mr. Laicus.  A theological student would never do.”

“Experience without age!” said I; “that’s a hard problem to solve.  For the life of me I do not see how we are going to do it.”

“Well you must consider, Mr. Laicus,” said Mr. Wheaton, adding force to his words by a gentle and impressive gesture with his forefinger, “that this is a very important and a very peculiar field-a very peculiar field indeed, Mr. Laicus.  And it requires a man of very peculiar qualifications.  It is really a city field,” he continued.  “To all intents and purposes Wheathedge is a