her
than acceptable in his sight."

"We trust to do all things, connected with the church, to the praise and
glory of God," returned Mr. Corlis.

"Then your labors will bring their reward. But there are still important
considerations claiming our attention. I think the Lord is better
pleased with other things than pretty meeting-houses. They who build up
his CHURCH find more favor in his sight than the mere constructors of
elegant place of worship."

"But, to build up the church, we must commence with the frame-work to
shelter it," observed Deacon Dustan; "at least, it appears so to me."

"The true church of Christ is in our own hearts," returned the old man,
with a gentle smile.

Deacon Dustan's mind was of too material a cast fully to appreciate this
truth; so he only nodded mechanically, and said,

"In one sense, certainly."

"To build that up, should be our first care. That we can do without
carpenter's tools, plank or plaster. _Righteousness_ is the great
building material, and _Love_ is the head workman. Christ has not said,
'Rear me stately edifices, and make my houses pleasing unto me with
velvet, gilding and paint.' But he has told his followers to feed the
hungry, to clothe the naked, to visit the afflicted and comfort them, to
lift up the downt-rodden. My brethren," said the old man, "this do as
long as ye have any in poverty and distress among you; then, I say, if
you can _afford_ it, build a meeting-house of gold, and the Lord will be
pleased with the work."

The rebuke, although uttered in all kindness and love, came home, with
overwhelming force, to all hearts at that time, when they had just
witnessed the squalor and rags of a faithful Christian brother in their
very midst. Mr. Corlis, who was expected to reply, was struck
speechless.

"There is a great deal of truth in what you say," observed Deacon
Dustan, after a painful silence. "Some of it applies to us, without
doubt; but not so much as you suppose. In our own society, you will not
find any one left to suffer poverty. If we have ever neglected poor Job
Bowen,--and, I confess, I, for one, have not been so thoughtful of him
as I should be, even if he were the vilest sinner in the world,--our
excuse is, that he differs from our persuasion. He is not one of our
brethren."

"<sc>Christ</sc> knows not one sect from another, it is the _heart_ he judges,"
said the old man. "'_Whoever_ doeth the will of my Father, the same is
my brother.' For