f the head
from their elders, and in one instance the boxing of an ear, at which
the culprit sets up a smothered howl, is ignominiously shaken, and
sits swelling and choking with indignant grief during the remainder of
the service.

At length the drum ceased, indicating both the arrival of the minister
and the time for service to begin.

The minister took his place in the pulpit. He was a young man, of
delicate mould, with a pale and intellectual face. Exquisite
sensitiveness was in the large gray eyes, the white brow, the delicate
lips, the long slender fingers; yet will and energy and command were
in them all. His was that rare union of extreme sensibility with
strong resolution that has given the world its religious leaders,--its
Savonarolas and Chrysostoms; men whose nerves shrank at a discord in
music, but when inspired by some grand cause, were like steel to
suffer and endure.

Something of this was in the minister's aspect, as he stood before the
people that morning. His eyes shone and dilated, and his slight figure
gathered dignity as his gaze met that of the assembly. There was no
organ, that instrument being deemed a device of the Prince of Darkness
to lead the hearts of the unwary off to popery; but the opening hymn
was heartily sung. Then came the Scripture reading,--usually a very
monotonous performance on the part of Puritan divines; but as given in
the young minister's thoughtfully modulated voice, nothing could have
been more expressive. Every word had its meaning, every metaphor was a
picture; the whole psalm seemed to breathe with life and power: "Lord,
thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations."

Majestic, mournful, yet thrilling with deathless hope, was the
minister's voice; and the people were deeply moved. The prayer
followed,--not the endless monologue of the average Puritan
clergyman, but pointed, significant, full of meaning. Again his face
was lifted before them as he rose to announce the text. It was paler
now; the eyes were glowing and luminous; the long, expressive fingers
were tremulous with excitement. It was evident to all that no common
subject was to be introduced, no common effort to be made. Always
composed, the audience grew more quiet still. The very children felt
the hush of expectation, and gazed wonderingly at the minister. Even
that great man, the Governor, lost his air of unbending grandeur, and
leaned expectantly forward.

The subject was Paul's vision of the