there would he run through his sermons with no audience
but the old tree and the little brook; and although his earnest
addresses produced no manifest change either on the stoical old elm, or
the unstable stream, the practice of speaking did him good, and helped
to make him more effective when he came to address a more appreciative
assembly.

His frequent visits to this sacred and secret spot began, by-and-by, to
be known among his acquaintances, and some of them determined to go and
watch him, and make fun of it. They accordingly went and hid
themselves where they could both see and hear all that passed. Abe
came and began the service, prayed and preached with great liberty,
considering the irresponsive audience before him; but while he was
preaching and pointing out the folly and danger of sin, and exhorting
to repentance, his words were reaching unknown ears, and searching
their way into more hearts than he was aware of. These spies were
caught in their own net; they felt the truth of the simple preaching.
They knew those words applied more to themselves than anything else.
They listened in fear and silence, and when they would gladly have got
beyond the sound of his voice, they dared not move lest he should
discover them, and make his discourse even more personal. When the
preacher had prayed earnestly, and had retired from his rural
sanctuary, the hidden and moveable part of his congregation were glad
to get away. Some of the callous ones endeavoured afterwards to chaff
Abe about the open-air service, but most of them were glad to say
nothing on the subject, inwardly determining never again to venture
profanely within the sacred precincts of the good man's sanctuary.

Abe gradually grew in the esteem of the people throughout the entire
Circuit, so that his coming to preach was quite an event of interest
among them. They knew he was in earnest for his Master's glory; and
though he sometimes said and did things which some men would shrink
from, and some would condemn if done by others, no one was displeased
at them in little Abe. He was a favourite, and special privileges were
accorded him, so that he could say and do just as he pleased. He knew
this quite well, and, though he seldom fell into the error of using it
as a license, it had the effect of bringing him out in his own true
character.

Sometimes he became very happy in the pulpit, and fairly jumped for
joy. He was preaching at Shepley, and, as was