Dorothy concluded there had been a fresh outbreak
between them of the old volcano. He grew worse and worse, and did not
object to her sending for Dr. Mather; but he did not do him much good.
He was in a very critical state, and Dorothy was miserable about him.
The fever was persistent, and the cough which he had had ever since the
day that brought his illness, grew worse. His friends would gladly have
prevailed upon him to seek a warmer climate, but he would not hear of
it.

Upon one occasion, Dorothy, encouraged by the presence of Dr. Mather,
was entreating him afresh to go somewhere from home for a while.

"No, no: what would become of my money?" he answered, with a smile which
Dorothy understood. The doctor imagined it the speech of a man whom
previous poverty and suddenly supervening wealth had made penurious.

"Oh!" he remarked reassuringly, "you need not spend a penny more abroad
than you do at home. The difference in the living would, in some places,
quite make up for the expense of the journey."

The minister looked bewildered for a moment, then seemed to find
himself, smiled again, and replied--

"You do not quite understand me: I have a great deal of money to spend,
and it ought to be spent here in England where it was made--God knows
how."

"You may get help to spend it in England, without throwing your life
away with it," said the doctor, who could not help thinking of his own
large family.

"Yes, I dare say I might--from many--but it was given _me_ to spend--in
destroying injustice, in doing to men as others ought to have done to
them. My preaching was such a poor affair that it is taken from me, and
a lower calling given me--to spend money. If I do not well with that,
then indeed I am a lost man. If I be not faithful in that which is
another's, who will give me that which is my own? If I can not further
the coming of Christ, I can at least make a road or two, exalt a valley
or two, to prepare His way before Him."

Thereupon it was the doctor's turn to smile. All that was to him as if
spoken in a language unknown, except that he recognized the religious
tone in it. "The man is true to his profession," he said to himself,
"--as he ought to be of course; but catch me spending _my_ money that
way, if I had but a hold of it!"

His father died soon after, and he got a hold of the money he called
_his_, whereupon he parted with his practice, and by idleness and
self-indulgence, knowing all the time wh