ing to all taking part in
it. Neither preacher nor hearer had a fair chance. In reality the
attraction of the night was the sermon of the pastor of the place, the
Rev. M. C. Osborn, and he did not begin till his pulpit had been occupied
by an assistant for an hour. After it was all over it puzzled me to
perceive what had been gained by the preliminary service and the
assistant's sermon. The assistant was a young man, and it was the sort
of a sermon a properly trained young man would preach. The subject was
the barren figtree, a striking subject treated with all the tediousness
of commonplace. It was clear the preacher had read more than he felt, or
he would not have spoken of the responsibility of a figtree, or bothered
himself with the threefold sense which cropped up under his three
divisions--first, as to the figtree, then as to the state of the Jews to
whom Christ told his parable, and then as to its applicability at the
present time. His great virtues were fluency, perfect coolness and
self-possession, and a distinct and powerful utterance. When he came to
the terrible climax, when he spoke of the condemnation which awaited the
finally impenitent, when he repeated how there could be no hope for such
as they, how for them there was agony of which no tongue could tell the
horror, or no imagination conceive, there was no pathos in his tones, no
tear trembling in his eye, no sign of sensibility in his heart. The
Saviour wept over Jerusalem as He saw the coming fate of the city that
had mocked at His warnings, that had stoned the prophets, that was to
crucify Himself. It did not seem to me that the sermon produced much
effect. When it has been the writer's privilege to converse with
Wesleyans they have contrasted their warmth with the coldness of the
services of other denominations; but in Episcopalian church or
Independent or Baptist chapel--nay, at a Quaker's meeting--such a service
as that preliminary to Mr. Osborn's appearance might have been held
without causing any sensation on account of its extra warmth and fire.
It was plain, and simple, and orthodox, and when it was over the people
seemed to feel that the proper thing had been said, and that was all.

Mr. Osborn next entered the pulpit, while the people were singing with
well-trained voices and without the help of an organ one of the
well-known Wesleyan hymns. His appearance excites confidence. As he
stood up there seemed in his face something of t