,
the self-confidence of the old man daunted him. It made him feel very
young, and there is nothing so daunting to Youth as to feel young.
Therefore he said, venerably, that he hoped Mr. Roberts realized that
it was possible to deceive oneself in such matters. "It is a dangerous
thing to neglect the means of grace," he said.

"Surely it is," said Henry Roberts, meekly; after which there was
nothing for the caller to do but offer the Irvingite a copy of the
_American Messenger_ and take his departure. He was so genuinely
concerned about Mr. Roberts's "danger," that he did not notice Philippa
sitting on a stool at her father's side. But Philippa noticed him.

So, after their kind, did these two shepherds of souls endeavor to
establish a relationship with Henry and Philippa Roberts. And they
were equally successful. Philippa gave her apple blossoms to the old
minister,--and went to Mr. Fenn's church the very next Sunday. Henry
Roberts accepted the tracts with a simple belief in the kindly purpose
of the young minister, and stayed away from both churches. But both
father and daughter were pleased by the clerical attentions:

"I love Dr. Lavendar," Philippa said to her father.

"I am obliged to Mr. Fenn," her father said to Philippa. "The youth,"
he added, "cares for my soul. I am obliged to any one who cares for my
soul."

He was, indeed, as Dr. Lavendar said, a man of humble mind; and yet
with his humbleness was a serene certainty of belief as to his soul's
welfare that would have been impossible to John Fenn, who measured
every man's chance of salvation by his own theological yardstick, or
even to Dr. Lavendar, who thought salvation unmeasurable. But then
neither of these two ministers had had Henry Roberts's experience. It
was very far back, that experience; it happened before Philippa was
born; and when they came to live between the two villages Philippa was
twenty-four years old....

It was in the thirties that young Roberts, a tanner in Lower Ripple,
went to England to collect a small bequest left him by a relative. The
sense of distance, the long weeks at sea in a sailing-vessel, the new
country and the new people, all impressed themselves upon a very
sensitive mind, a mind which, even without such emotional preparation,
was ready to respond to any deeply emotional appeal. Then came the
appeal. It was that new gospel of the Tongues, which, in those days,
astounded and thrilled all London from the lips