w, as naturally of
my friend's good qualities as I ever did before of what was evil. I
forget the evil in thinking of the good."

"Because you have forgiven him," returned Mr. Wellford. "Before you
forgave him, your thought of evil gave no room for the thought of good."

Mr. Wellford was right. After we have forgiven, we find it no hard
matter to forget.

PAYING THE MINISTER.

"MONEY, money, money! That's the everlasting cry! I'll give up my pew.
I won't go to church. I'll stay at home and read the Bible. Not that I
care for a few dollars more than I do for the dust that blows in the
wind; but this selling of salvation for gold disgusts me. I'm sick to
death of it!"

"But hear, first, Mr. Larkin, what we want money for," said Mr. Elder,
one of the vestrymen of the church to which the former belonged. "You
know that our minister's salary is very small; in fact, entirely
insufficient for the maintenance of his family. He has, as might be
supposed, fallen into debt, and we are making an effort to raise a
sufficient sum to relieve him from his unpleasant embarrassment."

"But what business has he to go in debt, Mr. Elder? He knows the amount
of his income, and, as an honest man, should not let his expenses
exceed it."

"But you know as well as I do that he cannot live on four hundred
dollars a year."

"I don't know any such thing, friend Elder. But I do know, that there
are hundreds and thousands who live on much less, and save a little
into the bargain. That, however, is neither here nor there. Four
hundred dollars a year is all this parish can afford to pay a minister,
and that Mr. Malcolm was distinctly told before he came. If he could
not live on the salary offered, why did he come? Mr. Pelton never
received more."

"Beg your pardon, Mr. Larkin. Mr. Pelton never received less than seven
hundred dollars a year. There were always extra subscriptions made for
him."

"I never gave any thing more than my regular subscription and pew-rent."

"It is more than I can say, then. In presents of one kind and another
and in money it never cost me less than from fifty to seventy-five
dollars a year extra. Having been in the vestry for the last ten years,
I happen to know that there was always something to make up at the end
of the year, and it generally came out of the pockets of a few."

"Well, it isn't right, that is all I have to say," returned Mr. Larkin.
"A minister has no business to saddle himself upon