esist, he lifted off the cover and bent
down to see and hear.

The first thing he saw was his minister's home. It was just after the
Sunday evening service, the one which Mr. Hardy had thought so dull.
Mr. Jones was talking over the evening with his wife.

"My dear," he said, "I feel about discouraged. Of what use is all our
praying and longing for the Holy Spirit, when our own church members
are so cold and unspiritual that all His influence is destroyed? You
know I made a special plea to all the members to come out to-night, yet
only a handful were there. I feel like giving up the struggle. You
know I could make a better living in literary work, and the children
could be better cared for then."

"But, John, it was a bad night to get out: you must remember that."

"But only fifty out of a church membership of four hundred, most of
them living near by! It doesn't seem just right to me."

"Mr. Hardy was there. Did you see him?"

"Yes; after service I went and spoke to him, and he treated me very
coldly. And yet he is the most wealthy, and in some ways the most
gifted, church member we have. He could do great things for the good
of this community, if"--

Suddenly Mr. Hardy thought the minister changed into the Sunday-school
superintendent, and he was walking down the street thinking about his
classes in the school, and Mr. Hardy thought he could hear the
superintendent's thoughts, as if his ear were at a phonograph.

"It's too bad! That class of boys I wanted Mr. Hardy to take left the
school because no one could be found to teach them. And now Bob Wilson
has got into trouble and been arrested for petty thieving. It will be
a terrible blow to his poor mother. Oh, why is it that men like Mr.
Hardy cannot be made to see the importance of work in the Sunday
School? With his knowledge of chemistry and geology, he could have
reached that class of boys and invited them to his home, up into his
laboratory, and exercised an influence over them they would never
outgrow. Oh! it's a strange thing to me that men of such possibilities
do not realize their power!"

The superintendent passed along shaking his head sorrowfully, and Mr.
Hardy, who seemed guided by some power he could not resist, and
compelled to listen whether he liked it or not, next found himself
looking into one of the railroad-shop tenements; where the man Scoville
was lying, awaiting amputation of both feet after the terrible
accident. Scov