things. It seemed to me that the man who
could so wonderfully interpret the words of others, must be endued with
the gift of eloquence for himself. I even braced myself for a mental
effort, in case his argument should soar above my head. And then--a
child could have followed him! It was absolutely the simplest,
plainest, and most intimate address which I had ever heard from a church
pulpit. Incidentally, it was also the shortest!

It was ten minutes to twelve o'clock when he folded his arms on top of
the open Bible, and leant forward for a long, silent moment, looking
earnestly from side to side into the upturned faces of his hearers.
Then he began to talk--to _talk_, not to preach, speaking every word
with an inflection of the truest sincerity. The text was "Forgetting
the things that are behind, I press towards the mark," and the "talk"
ran pretty much like this:--

"How has this week gone with you, Brothers and Sisters? To some it has
brought success, to others failure. Bad weather, bad temper, lost
control, a host of tiny troubles have sprung upon us unprepared; have
worked their will, and left us discouraged and weak. Thank God for
beginnings! New years, new months, new weeks--after every twenty-four
hours, a new day, with the sun rising over a new world! Last week is
dead. All the grieving in the world cannot revive it into life. Bury
it! Remember only the lessons it has taught. Forget the things that
lie behind. _Press forward_! This week is alive. This week brings
opportunity. Live! Work! Pray! With God's grace make it the best,
the truest, the kindliest week you have ever lived."

The clock struck twelve, and the sermon was over. A bare ten minutes,
but if he had preached for an hour on end he could not have added to its
effect. The congregation listened in tense silence, as though afraid of
losing a word. One _felt_ the electric thrill of hope and courage and
high resolve which, flooded their hearts; felt it oneself; went out from
the church braced in heart and soul.

I want to know more of that man. He could help one along.

I have got my wish. He called with his wife this afternoon--the first
callers since we arrived. They were shown into the drawing-room, where
Charmion and I were lolling over our tea. There was fruit on the table,
besides a selection of cakes from town, and as we had been gardening in
the earlier part of the afternoon, and got thoroughly grubby and untidy,