But I never loved to hear folks say they was bearin’ a cross when they wasn’t. I say it is jest as bad to tell a wrong story in a meetin’-house as in a barn, or a sugar bush. I have heerd these same folks git up and say they was willin’ to die off that minute for the Lord’s sake, and after meetin’ I would ask ’em to give 25 cents to help God’s poor—work He left below for His childern to do in His name, and not a cent could I git from ’em. They was willin’ to bear the cross for Him with their tongue, and die off for Him with the same, in conference meetin’; but when it come to lendin’ the Lord 25 cents, this they truly felt was askin’ too much of ’em. And then I had my own idees whether they was really willin’ to die off, and I had my own mind too whether I was willin’ to have ’em. When they was baptized they left their pocket books to home, in the stand draw, but _they_ ort to have been baptized too—all over by immersion.
“When the Lord gives a person health and strength to enjoy the beautiful world he placed him in, and powers to labor for Him and for humanity, I don’t believe He requires at the same time dyin’ grace of em. He wants them to have livin’ grace, and use it. They ort to be willin’ to live, which is a great deal harder sometimes. But truly, I was drawed into this episodin’ by comparin’ your honored father in my mind with these I have named. If they won’t give 25 cents for their religion, what would they say if they had to give what your father gave. His principle and religion bore the flames of agony and death and wasn’t burnt up—they couldn’t make a fire hot enough.” John put his handkerchief to his face and I see he was dretfully affected, so I bid him a almost tender good-bye and jined my pardner, and we went into England.
[Illustration: INTRODUCED TO JOHN ROGERS JR.]
I took a sight of comfort in my tower through Great Britain, a seein’ her noble doins and meditatin’ how well off she was, and how she has prospered. Of course I can’t help feelin’ a little parshal to America, but the old lady country seems awful near to me; I think a sight of her. You can’t tear up a tree and set it out in a new place without leavin’ lots of little roots in the old soil; a mother and daughter can’t be parted away from each other without lots of memories and affections clingin’ round each other’s heart. Now, after I left Mother Smith’s and had a home of my own, I was always glad to see Mother Smith have things for her comfort; the more dresses and housen stuff she had, the better I liked it. And so it was with me and England, I didn’t feel a bit hurt because she seemed so well off; not a bit. Her display that she displayed to the Sentinal was next to our own in size and grandeur. It was beyond all description, so fur beyond, that description couldn’t think of catchin’ up, but would set right down.