quit talking
like that. And if you get near enough to hear you find your sympathy is
not needed. For John's eye is ablaze with a tender light, and the sound
of an inner heart music reaches your ear as you get near him. And if you
follow, as you instinctively do, the line of the light in his eye you
quickly look down the road.

Oh! There's John's crowd. _They're listening to Jesus._John's crowd has
left him for his Master. And the forgotten preacher is the finest
evidence of the faithfulness of the preacher. The crowd's getting the
water, sweet cool refreshing water of life, direct from the fountain.
They've clean forgotten the faithful common tin-cup. And John's so glad.
John came that he might bear witness of _the light_. And he did. And the
crowd heard. And they flocked to the light.

Here's a man preaching. And the people are listening. The benediction is
pronounced. And they go out. And as they move slowly out they're
talking, always talking. We don't seem yet to have demitted our
privilege of talking after service. Here are two. Listen to them. "Isn't
he a great preacher? so scholarly, so eloquent, so polished; and all
those classical allusions. I didn't understand half he said; he
certainly is a great preacher. We're very fortunate in such a man."

And the preacher, whoever he be, may know this for a bit of the
certainty that occasionally _will_ sift in. He may be a scholar. I
wouldn't question it. And a polished orator. I wouldn't question that.
But in the main thing, the one thing he's for, as a _Jesus-witness_, he
is a splendid scholarly polished failure. Men are talking about _him_.

They've forgotten his Master, if indeed--ah, yes, if indeed he _have_ a
Master! He has a _Saviour_, let us earnestly hope, and willingly
believe. But a _Master_! One that sweeps and sways his mind and culture
and life like the strong wind sweeps the thin young saplings in the
storm--clearly he knows nothing of that. Men are talking of _him_.

And here's another talking a bit It may be just a simple homely talk. Or
he may likewise be scholarly and eloquent. A man should bring his best.
The old classic is beaten oil for the lamps of the sanctuary. But
there's the soft burning fire of the real thing in his message. And the
people feel it. The air seems a-thrill with its quiet tensity. And the
last amen is said. And again they go out.

And here are two walking down the road together, and as they come to the
cross-street, one say