earers. Most men in his position would have easily
put the objection out of their minds. But he could not put it aside
carelessly, and it was characteristic of him to exaggerate its
importance. He dearly loved to play what the French call _le beau
role_, even at the cost of his self-interest. Of a sensitive, artistic
temperament, he had for years nourished his intellect with good books.
He had always striven, too, to set before his hearers high ideals of
life and conduct. His nature was now subdued to the stuff he had worked
in. As an artist, an orator, it was all but impossible for him to
justify what must seem like sordid selfishness. He moved about in his
chair uneasily, and strove to look at the subject from a new point of
view. In vain; ten thousand dollars a year instead of five--that was to
be his theme.

The first solution of the problem which suggested itself to him was to
express his very real disdain of such base material considerations, but
no sooner did the thought occur to him than he was fain to reject it.
He knew well that his hearers in Kansas City would refuse to accept that
explanation even as "high-falutin' bunkum!" He then tried to select
a text in order to ease for a time the strain upon his reflective
faculties. "Feed my sheep" was his first choice--"the largest flock
possible, of course." But no, that was merely the old cant in new words.

He came reluctantly to the conclusion that there was no noble way out of
the difficulty. He felt this the more painfully because, before sitting
down to think of his sermon, he had immersed himself, to use his own
words, in the fountain-head of self-sacrificing enthusiasm. And now he
could not show his flock that there was any trace of self-denial in his
conduct. It was apparent that his acceptance of the call made a great
sermon an utter impossibility. He must say as little about the main
point as possible, glide quickly, in fact, over the thin ice. But his
disappointment was none the less keen; there was no splendid peroration
to write; there would be no eyes gazing up at him through a mist
of tears. His sensations were those of an actor with an altogether
uncongenial and stupid part.

After some futile efforts he abandoned the attempt to sketch out a
sermon. Some words would come to him at the time, and they would have
to do. In the evening a new idea presented itself to his over-excited
brain. Might not his dislike of that sermon be a snare set by the Dev