“That’s what it will cost him,” said I, “simply to keep up with the times.”

The other gentlemen looked at my figures a moment in silence.  Deacon Goodsole was the first to speak.  “That is a pretty liberal estimate,” said he.  “A great many ministers get along on less than that.”

“Oh yes,” said I, “and grow dry and dull in consequence.  Little food makes lean men.”

Mr. Hardcap shook his head resolutely, “I don’t believe in preachin’ to the times,” said he.  “It’s scripter interpretation and the doctrines we want.”

“Very well,” said I, “the tools for that work cost more yet.  Yours cost you from ten cents to five dollars, his from five dollars to a hundred.  A single volume of Lange, or Alford, or the Speaker’s Commentary cost five dollars; a good Bible Dictionary, from twenty to thirty; a good Encyclopedia, from fifty to a hundred.  And theological treaties have a small market and therefore a high price-very high for their value.  And his tools grow old too, and have to be replaced oftener than yours do, Mr. Hardcap.”

“I don’t see that, Mr. Laicus,” said he.  “A book, if you keep it careful, will last a great many years.  I am reading out of a Bible that belonged to my grandfather.  And I expect ’ll belong to my grandson yet.”

“My dear Mr. Hardcap,” said I, “the leaves and covers and printed works do not make the book.  Ideas make the book.  You can use your tools over and over again.  If your plane gets dull out comes the hones and the dulled edge is quickly sharpened again.  But ideas are gone when they are used.”

“I don’t see it,” said Mr. Hardcap.  And I do not suppose he does.  I wonder if he knows what an idea is.

“It is so,” continued I, “with all student-tools.  There are a few which the minister uses over and over again; his dictionaries, commentaries, and cyclopedia, if he has one.  There are a few treaties that are worth reading and re-reading; but they are exceptional.  Generally the student gets the gist of a book in one reading, as a squirrel the kernel of a nut at one crack.  What remains on his shelves thereafter is only a shell.  A book that has been dulled can rarely be sharpened and put to use again.  There is no ministerial hone.  The parson must replenish his bench every year.  At least he ought to.”

“I haven’t no great opinion of larned ministers no-how,” said Mr. Hardcap.  “It isn’t larnin’ we want, Mr. Laicus.  It is the Gospel, the pure, unadulterated Gospel.”

Mr. Hardcap was incorrigible.  I might as well try to explain to a North American Indian the cost and the value of a modern cotton mill as the cost and the value of student tools to Mr. Hardcap.

But I believe I produced some impression on the others.  Deacon Goodsole still pondered my figures.  “I never thought of the cost of minister’s tool before,” said he.  “It’s quite an item.”

“Well,” said Mr. Hardcap, “for my part I don’t see why the parson can’t live on a thousand dollars a year as well as I can.”