eaker gazed at this noble face, the more
he seemed to dread the conclusion. He was already close upon the point
where he was first to begin to speak about sincerity, and the necessity
of a perfectly truthful existence, and although he could not exactly
tell the reason, he could not but feel that the stirring discourse he
had set himself to deliver, was but little in keeping with that bright
and peaceful smile, and with that commanding countenance so full of
earnestness and harmony.

His head seemed to go round, and not another word could he utter. There
was a deathlike stillness in the church, as he wiped his brow with his
handkerchief.

But when he again raised his head, he made an effort, and, looking
beyond the dean in his need, he sought her who was really the cause of
his standing where he did. He was not disappointed, for the moment his
eyes met the calm and determined face, a change seemed to come over him.
Her eye rested upon him with an inquiring and almost anxious expression,
which he well understood.

She should not be disappointed of her trust in him, and with renewed
strength, and without a tremor in his voice, he began upon the last part
of his discourse. Ever higher and fuller rang his voice, until its
sonorous tone filled the church, and was re-echoed from the vaulted
roof. The congregation followed him with attention, while some of the
old women were moved to tears. And now a sensation of uneasiness seemed
to pass through those who composed the great assembly. It was indeed an
extraordinary sermon, with its earnest entreaties to be thoroughly
upright and sincere, and with its reckless condemnation of all forms and
ceremonies, all of which were but of secondary consideration. It seemed
too bold, too exaggerated.

He seemed anxious to confess his sceptical opinions, in holding which he
did not stand alone. He was only alone in confessing them. He knew only
too well that fine web of soothing compromise, with which people were in
the habit of deadening their consciences. He knew it still better, too,
from his own point of view as a clergyman, who even more than others was
bound to live in the full glare of truth, even though he might be
despised, hated, and persecuted by an unreasoning world. If he followed
the beaten track, whither would it lead? To a position of comfort and
respectability, in which the first duty was to throw a veil over one's
own heart and those of others: to suppress all doubt and i