r the more animating services held in the Grove.

Not only the habitual church-goers, but the people of the parish at
large, began to feel the magnetizing influence, and were drawn towards
the same spot. For a week or more past, late in the afternoons on
which the meetings were held, little skiffs might have been seen
putting off from the opposite shore, freighted with men, women, and
children, crossing over to hear the wonderful preachings of the
missionary.

What attracted them thither? Not surely the love of the truth.

Most of them disliked it in their hearts, and had not even began to
think of practising it in their lives. They were interested in the
man. They were, in some sort, compelled by the magical power he held
over them, to listen to entreaties and counsels, similar to those to
which they had often hitherto turned a deaf ear.

Mr. Norton spent much of the time with them, going from house to
house, partaking of their rude fare, sympathizing in their joys and
sorrows, occasionally lending them a helping hand in their toils, and
aiding them sometimes by his ingenuity and skill as an artisan. They
found in him a hearty, genial, and unselfish friend. Hence when he
appeared among them at the Grove, their personal interest in him
secured a certain degree of order and decorum, and caused them to
listen to him respectfully.

Even beyond this, he held a power over them, by means of his natural
and persuasive eloquence, enlivened by varied and graphic
illustrations, drawn from objects within their ken, and by the
wonderful intonations of his powerful and harmonious voice. He began
his work by presenting to them the love of Christ and the winning
promises of the gospel.

This was his favorite mode of reaching the heart.

On most of these occasions, Adele went to the Grove. It varied her
monotonous life. The strange, motley crowd gathered under the
magnificent trees, sitting on the ground, or standing in groups
beneath the tall arches made by the overlapping boughs; the level rays
of the declining sun, bringing out, in broad relief, their grotesque
varieties of costume; the gradual creeping on of the sobering
twilight; the alternating expressions of emotions visible on the
countenances of the listeners, made the scene striking to her
observing eye.

Another burning, dusty day had culminated. It was nearly five o'clock
in the afternoon. Mr. Norton was lying upon a lounge in Mr. Brown's
apartment. Both gentleme