nding-board above him, and he commenced at "firstly" and went
on and on and on to about "twenty-thirdly." Then he made a few remarks
by way of application; and then took a general view of the subject, and
in about two hours reached the last chapter in Revelations.

In those days, no matter how cold the weather was, there was no fire in
the church. It was thought to be a kind of sin to be comfortable while
you were thanking God. The first church that ever had a stove in it in
New England, divided on that account. So the first church in which they
sang by note, was torn in fragments.

After the sermon we had an intermission. Then came the catechism with
the chief end of man. We went through with that. We sat in a row with
our feet coming in about six inches of the floor. The minister asked
us if we knew that we all deserved to go to hell, and we all answered
"Yes." Then we were asked if we would be willing to go hell if it was
God's will, and every little liar shouted "Yes." Then the same sermon
was preached once more, commencing at the other end and going back.
After that, we started for home, sad and solemn--overpowered with the
wisdom displayed in the scheme of the atonement. When we got home, if we
had been good boys, and the weather was warm, sometimes they would take
us out to the graveyard to cheer us up a little. It did cheer me. When
I looked at the sunken tombs and the leaning stones, and read
the half-effaced inscriptions through the moss of silence and
forget-fulness, it was a great comfort. The reflection came to my mind
that the observance of the Sabbath could not last always. Sometimes they
would sing that beautiful hymn in which occurs these cheerful lines:

"Where congregations ne'er break up,
And Sabbaths never end."

These lines, I think, prejudiced me a little against even heaven. Then
we had good books that we read on Sundays by way of keeping us happy
and contented. There were Milners' "History of the Waldenses," Baxter's
"Call to the Unconverted," Yahn's "Archaeology of the Jews," and
Jenkyns' "On the Atonement." I used to read Jenkyns' "On the Atonement."
I have often thought that an atonement would have to be exceedingly
broad in its provisions to cover the case of a man who would write a
book like that for a boy.

But at last the Sunday wore away, and the moment the sun went down we
were free. Between three and four o'clock we would go out to see how the
sun was coming on. Sometim