iver and the Indian
Ridge. The streamlet proved to have about the width with which it
flowed through my memory. The young men and the boys were bathing in
its shallow current, or dressing and undressing upon its banks as in
the days of old; the same river, only the water changed; "The same boys,
only the names and the accidents of local memory different," I whispered
to my little ghost.

The Indian Ridge more than equalled what I expected of it. It is well
worth a long ride to visit. The lofty wooded bank is a mile and a half
in extent, with other ridges in its neighborhood, in general running
nearly parallel with it, one of them still longer. These singular
formations are supposed to have been built up by the eddies of
conflicting currents scattering sand and gravel and stones as they swept
over the continent. But I think they pleased me better when I was taught
that the Indians built them; and while I thank Professor Hitchcock,
I sometimes feel as if I should like to found a chair to teach the
ignorance of what people do not want to know.

"Two tickets to Boston." I said to the man at the station.

But the little ghost whispered, "When you leave this place you leave me
behind you."

"One ticket to Boston, if you please. Good by, little ghost."

I believe the boy-shadow still lingers around the well-remembered scenes
I traversed on that day, and that, whenever I revisit them, I shall find
him again as my companion.

THE PULPIT AND THE PEW.

The priest is dead for the Protestant world. Luther's inkstand did not
kill the devil, but it killed the priest, at least for us: He is a loss
in many respects to be regretted. He kept alive the spirit of reverence.
He was looked up to as possessing qualities superhuman in their nature,
and so was competent to be the stay of the weak and their defence
against the strong. If one end of religion is to make men happier
in this world as well as in the next, mankind lost a great source of
happiness when the priest was reduced to the common level of humanity,
and became only a minister. Priest, which was presbyter, corresponded
to senator, and was a title to respect and honor. Minister is but the
diminutive of magister, and implies an obligation to render service.

It was promised to the first preachers that in proof of their divine
mission they should have the power of casting out devils and talking in
strange tongues; that they should handle serpents and drink poisons
wi