XI.

THE SERMON.

ETWEEN the close of the Ante-Communion service and the singing of the Hymn, I had a brief opportunity to give myself a moral shaking up, and to set myself deliberately to listen to the sermon. Of course, I did not expect an intellectual treat,-I knew that Mr. Taylor made no pretensions to oratory or erudi

tion; but I have found, after some years of patient listening to all sorts of sermons, that I never yet gave my whole, prayerful attention to any, even the poorest and plainest, without getting from it something that I should have regretted to lose. It might be some subtle touch of human kinship, awakening new sympathies in my heart; or a bit of homely wisdom, quick with an endless progeny of application; or an isolated clause of a sentence, stirring within me a train of heavenward thought that made me feel, for some blissful moments, as if I had talked face to face with God; or perhaps, a hitherto unheeded text of Scripture falling on my ear with sudden opulence and profundity of spiritual meaning. So I have come to think that God never fails to bless the seed of the Gospel-however unskilfully sown-with a rich germination of spiritual help, to all who listen to His ministers reverently and teachably, as to 'deputies of Christ for the reducing of man to the obedience of God."

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Mr. Taylor's sermon was pointed and vivified by a

warm earnestness of manner, and a directness of purpose, that made it very effective, in its way. It was no fine speculation of the brain, but a drop of life-blood from the heart. It was enriched with wisdom gathered from the mistakes, conflicts and defeats of his own life, and carefully hived for the benefit of his fellows; of whose longings after holiness and struggles toward right, as well as of their discouraging failures and lapses into evil, he knew something through fellowship, not less than observation; in virtue of which knowledge he was irresistibly moved to help and to teach them. His sentences were commonplace enough in themselves, but they seemed to have imbibed a rich warmth and fragrance from having been so thoroughly steeped in the enthusiasm and the tenderness of his heart. I had a curious intuition, as I listened, why God had called him into His service just as he was, with his culture and his want of culture, his zeal and his unpracticalness, his strength and his weakness. A man with less infirmity to contend with in himself, would not have comprehended so clearly the necessities of others; and one of less sanguine and hopeful temperament would never have labored for their reformation with such entire confidence in his ultimate success. it was necessary for our Lord to take upon Him human flesh, with the pains, weaknesses, and temptations belonging thereto, for the work of atonement; it is not strange that those whom He calls to the work of teaching in His name, should be men of like passions and infirmities with ourselves.

If

Not that I would, for a moment, be supposed to undervalue, or discourage the employment of, whatever good gifts of mind or manner God vouchsafes to man, in His special service. If, in the Christian life, the wisdom of the serpent be fitly conjoined with the harmlessness of the dove; why, in Christian teaching, need one hesitate to employ the finest art of rhetoric, the loveliest grace of fancy, the subtlest har monies of elocution, in aid of the depth, the simplicity, and

the endless adaptation of the Gospel? Not that the Word shall return unto Him void without these helps, since the power of the Spirit of God is in it; but the power of the spirit of love in man should surely keep him from the in dolence, or the impertinence, of offering unto the Lord of that which has cost him nothing-nothing of that careful labor and exquisite finish which shows that the heart of the worker was in his work!

Just once during the sermon, my attention wandered. Major Burcham was fast asleep in his pew, with his mouth hospitably wide open; into which innocent-minded flies strayed occasionally, and were instantly caught by the quick, involuntary closing of his powerful jaws; to hisand, no doubt, their-extreme disgust. The spectacle was not exactly edifying, as a smothered laugh from the gallery attested.

When the service was over, a little knot of people gathered near the chancel to shake hands with Mr. Taylor, foremost of whom was Major Burcham. His deep, important tones, swelling above the hum and bustle of the departing congregation, reached me where I stood, and made me acquainted with his peculiarities of speech; namely, a frequent substitution of some laggard word in place of the half-spoken one that came more quickly to hand, and an emphatic, sonorous repetition of commonplace phrases, as if to make up by sound for lack of substance.

"I am de-charmed to see you, sir," I heard him say ing," and I hope we shall have the benefit of your la ministrations for some time. You are aware, I suppose, that Shiloh is rather a poor place to come to, rather a poor place; I really couldn't ad-recommend you to take up with the parish, if you've anything better in view; but if you're not afraid to try, we will do our best, sir; we will do our best."

I waited for no more, but went out with a foolish impatience in my heart. In the vestibule, I came face to face

with Mrs. Danforth. She put out her hand in her usual careless, condescending way; "Good morning, Miss Frost, how do you like him?”

"Who-Mr. Taylor? I do not know him yet, Mrs. Danforth."

"I was not aware you were such a purist! I mean, how do you like him as a clergyman?"

"I like all clergymen-in the abstract."

"Well, what do you think of Mr. Taylor as a specimen of the concrete?"

"I have not thought much about him; I was thinking of his sermon."

did

"Nous arrivons," said she, arching her brows; "what you think of that?"

"I thought my life would be the better for an abund ant interfusion of its spirit."

She made a gesture of vexation, partly comic, partly real.

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"I never knew a case of perseverance so ill-rewarded," said she. However, I will be as frank as you are noncommittal, and—”

"I beg pardon for interrupting you, but I cannot let that slander pass unnoticed. I thought the best compli ment to be paid to any sermon, was to bring its teaching home to one's own heart and life."

"Bless us! how pleasant!" exclaimed she, shrugging her shoulders. "We glorify ourselves, and fire sly shots at our irreverent neighbors, simultaneously. But they do not hit me—this time. I was about to say that I liked Mr. Taylor a great deal better than I expected."

"If I knew the character of your expectation, I could better appreciate the compliment."

"Adieu!" she exclaimed, with humorous abruptness, "I shall take refuge in flight. Good morning, Miss Rust," (addressing Aunt Vin, who approached at that moment), "I advise you to keep out of Miss Frost's way; she is in a

mood compounded of the Sphinx and the Cynic, and you'll come off second best-as I go."

But Aunt Vin stopped her. "I hope, Mis' Danforth, that you're a coming to the obsequious this afternoon; I am sure the family would take it as a tribune of respect."

Mrs. Danforth looked utterly bewildered.

"Maggie Warren is to be buried this afternoon," I explained. "A young girl of this neighborhood, who died on Thursday morning last. The funeral services are to be held in this church, at half-past one. Miss Rust invites you to attend."

"Oh, indeed! No, I thank you; it is not the city custom to attend funerals of people you don't know. By the way, what is the hour of afternoon service?"

"One o'clock," replied I. "And it is the country cus tom, Mrs. Danforth, to hold funerals in the place of the afternoon service, when they can conveniently be arranged to take place on Sunday."

"Ah, I see,-a labor-saving institution, and thoroughly -New Anglican! But you do not mean to say that afternoon service is always at one o'clock!"

"Assuredly."

Mrs. Danforth held up her hands with a laughable air of consternation. "Two sermons, with only an hour between! my moral digestion is not equal to that! I should get the heads of the afternoon discourse tacked on to the tail of the morning preachment, and the morning applica tion unlawfully joined to the afternoon text; and endless bewilderment and error would be the inevitable result. Put me down for a half-day Christian-in Shiloh,-Miss Rust."

"I haven't got anything to do with putting anybody down. I expect the Lord attends to that business Himself," returned Aunt Vin, rather shortly; internally displeased at the implied ridicule of customs endeared to her by long familiarity. "And if you repine that an hour and a half ont