In this respect, preaching is very much like reviewing,—­the listener, or the reader, being too complaisant to see through the great standing mystifications of either.  Yet preaching is a work of high importance to men, and one that doubtless accomplishes great good, more especially when the life of the preacher corresponds with his doctrine; and even reviewing, though infinitely of less moment, might be made a very useful art, in the hands of upright, independent, intelligent, and learned men.  But nothing in this world is as it should be, and centuries will probably roll over it ere the “good time” shall really come!

The day of the funeral being the Sabbath, nothing that touched on business was referred to.  On the following morning, however, “the friends” assembled early in the parlour, and an excuse for being a little pressing was made, on the ground that so many present had so far to go.  The deacon had probably made a remove much more distant than any that awaited his relatives.

“It is right to look a little into the deacon’s matters before we separate,” said Mr. Job Pratt, who, if he had the name, had not the patience of him of old, “in order to save trouble and hard feelings.  Among relatives and friends there should be nothing but confidence and affection, and I am sure I have no other sentiments toward any here.  I suppose”—­all Mr. Job Pratt knew, was ever on a supposition—­“I suppose I am the proper person to administer to the deacon’s property, though I don’t wish to do it, if there’s the least objection.”

Every one assented that he was the most proper person, for all knew he was the individual the surrogate would be the most likely to appoint.

“I have never set down the deacon’s property as anything like what common report makes it,” resumed Mr. Job Pratt; “though I do suppose it will fully reach ten thousand dollars.”

“La!” exclaimed a female cousin, and a widow, who had expectations of her own, “I’d always thought Deacon Pratt worth forty or fifty thousand dollars!  Ten thousand dollars won’t make much for each of us, divided up among so many folks!”

“The division will not be so very great, Mrs. Martin,” returned Mr. Job, “as it will be confined to the next of kin and their representatives.  Unless a will should be found—­and, by all I can learn, there is none”—­emphasizing the last word with point—­“unless a will be found, the whole estate, real and personal, must be divided into just five shares; which, accordin’ to my calculation, would make about two thousand dollars a share.  No great fortin, to be sure; though a comfortable addition to small means.  The deacon was cluss (Anglice, close); yes, he was cluss—­all the Pratts are a little given to be cluss; but I don’t know that they are any the worse for it.  It is well to be curful (careful) of one’s means, which are a trust given to us by Divine Providence.”

In this manner did Mr. Job Pratt often quiet his conscience for being as “curful” of his own as of other person’s assets.  Divine Providence, according to his morality, made it as much a duty to transfer the dollar that was in his neighbour’s pocket to his own, as to watch it vigilantly after the transposition has been effected.