t time,
for he began to get formal on puppus to stop jokes; but, dear me, where
all men are equal what's the use of one man tryin' to look big? He must
take to growin' agin I guess to do that. 'You know we have the Voluntary
with us, Mr. Slick,' sais he.
"'Jist so,' sais I.
"'Well, what's the meanin' of that?'
"'Why,' sais I, 'that you support religion or let it alone, as you like;
that you can take it up as a pedlar does his pack, carry it till you are
tired, then lay it down, set on it, and let it support you."
"'Exactly,' sais he; 'it is voluntary on the hearer, and it's jist so
with the minister, too; for his preachin' is voluntary also. He can
preach or lot it alone, as he likes. It's voluntary all through. It's a
bad rule that won't work both ways.'
"'Well,' says I, 'there is a good deal in that, too.' I said that just
to lead him on.
"'A good deal!' sais he, 'why it's every thing. But I didn't rest on
that alone; I propounded this maxim to myself. Every man, sais I, is
bound to sarve his fellow citizens to his utmost. That's true; ain't it,
Mr. Slick?'
"'Guess so,' sais I.
"'Well then, I asked myself this here question: Can I sarve my fellow
citizens best by bein' minister to Peach settlement, 'tendin' on a
little village of two thousand souls, and preachin' my throat sore, or
bein' special minister to Saint Jimses, and sarvin' our great Republic
and its thirteen millions? Why, no reasonable man can doubt; so I give
up preachin'.'
"'Well,' sais I, 'Abednego, you are a Socdolager, that's a fact; you are
a great man, and a great scholard. Now a great scholard, when he can't
do a sum the way it's stated, jist states it so--he _can_ do it. Now the
right way to state that sum is arter this fashion: "Which is best, to
endeavour to save the souls of two thousand people under my spiritual
charge, or let them go to Old Nick and save a piece of wild land in
Maine, get pay for an old steamer burnt to Canada, and uphold the slave
trade for the interest of the States.'
"'That's specious, but not true,' said he; 'but it's a matter rather for
my consideration than your'n,' and he looked as a feller does when he
buttons his trowsers' pocket, as much as to say, you have no right to be
a puttin' of your pickers and stealers in there, that's mine. 'We will
do better to be less selfish,' said he, 'and talk of our great nation.'
"'Well,' says I, 'how do we stand here in Europe? Do we maintain the
high pitch
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