t for him, and not
to expose his precious throat,"--or "longing for that quiet home of
_their own_, which would not make necessary these _cruel separations_,
and where she should have the uninterrupted society of her dear
Benjamin."

To all such the conscientious husband dutifully replied, "thankful for
his Rachel's expression of interest in such a sinner as himself, and
trusting that she would not forget that health or the comforts of this
world were but of comparatively small importance, since this was 'not
our abiding city.' He trusted, too, that she would not allow the
transitory affections of this life, _however dear they might be_, to
engross her to the neglect of those which were _far more_ important. He
permitted himself to hope that Rachel" (he was chary of endearing
epithets) "would not murmur against the dispensations of Providence, and
would be content with whatever He might provide; and hoping that Mr.
Handby and family were in their usual health, remained her Christian
friend and devoted husband, Benjamin Johns."

It so happened, that, after this discursive life had lasted for some ten
months, a serious difficulty arose between the clergyman and the parish
of the neighboring town of Ashfield. The person who served as the
spiritual director of the people was suspected of leaning strongly
toward some current heresy of the day; and the suspicion being once set
on foot, there was not a sermon the poor man could preach but some
quidnunc of the parish snuffed somewhere in it the taint of the false
doctrine. The due convocations and committees of inquiry followed
sharply after, and the incumbent received his dismissal in due form at
the hands of some "brother in the bonds of the Gospel."

A few weeks later, Giles Elderkin of Ashfield, "Society's Committee,"
invited, by letter, the Reverend Benjamin Johns to come and "fill their
pulpit the following Lord's day"; and added,--"If you conclude to preach
for us, I shall be pleased to have you put up at my house over the
Sabbath."

"There you are," said Mr. Handby, when the matter was announced in
family conclave,--"just the man for them. They like sober, solid
preaching in Ashfield."

"I call it real providential," said Mrs. Handby; "fust-rate folks, and
't a'n't a long drive over for Rachel."

Little Mrs. Johns looked upon the grave, earnest face of her husband
with delight and pride, but said nothing.

"I know Squire Elderkin," says Mr. Handby, meditatively