The house of Mr. Wade was known as the ‘minister’s home.’  For years, in their movements through the circuit, the preachers, as they came round to this part in the field of their appointed labor, were welcomed by Brother and Sister Wade, and the little spare chamber made comfort. able for their reception.  It was felt by these honest-hearted people, more a privilege than a duty, thus to share their temporal blessings with the men of God who ministered to them in holy things.  They had their weaknesses, as we all have.  One of their weaknesses consisted in a firm belief that they were deeply imbued with the genuine religion, and regarded things spiritual above all worldly considerations.  They were kind, good people, certainly, but not as deeply read in the lore of their own hearts, not as familiar with the secret springs of their own actions, as all of us should desire to be.  But this was hardly to be wondered at, seeing that their position in the church was rather elevated as compared with those around them, and they were the subjects of little distinguishing marks flattering to the natural man.

While Mr. Wade was splitting a log at the wood-pile, his thoughts on the new Presiding Elder, and his feelings warm with the anticipated pleasure of meeting and entertaining him, a man of common appearance approached along the road, and when he came to where the farmer was, stood still and looked at him until he had finished cutting the log, and was preparing to lift the cleft pieces in his arms.

“Rather a cold day this,” said the man.

“Yes, rather,” returned Mr. Wade, a little indifferently, and in a voice meant to repulse the stranger, whose appearance did not impress him very favorably.

“How far is it to D—?” inquired the man.

“Three miles,” replied Mr. Wade, who having filled his arms with wood, was beginning to move off towards the house.

“So far!” said the man in a tone that was slightly marked with hesitation.  “I thought it was but a little way from this.”  Then with an air of hesitation, and speaking in a respectful voice, he added, “I would feel obliged if you would let me go in and warm myself.  I have walked for two miles in the cold, an—­as D—­is still three miles off, I shall be chilled through before I get there.”

So modest and natural a request as this, Mr. Wade could not refuse, and yet, in the way he said—­“Oh, certainly”—­there was a manner that clearly betrayed his wish that the man had passed on and preferred his request somewhere else.  Whether this was noticed or not, is of no consequence; the wayfarer on this assent to his request, followed Mr. Wade into the house.

“Jane,” said the farmer as he entered the house with the stranger, and his voice was not as cordial as it might have been; “let this man warm himself by the kitchen fire.  He has to go all the way to D—­this evening and says he is cold.”