trembled, always just at the right moment, from pure spontaneity. But
those who knew the preacher personally never doubted the genuineness
of the feeling that swept and carried orator and hearers down. We do
not hear such sermons now.

Professor Park has always been a man of social ease and wit. The last
time I saw him, at the age of eighty-five, in his house in Andover,
I thought, one need not say, "has been;" and to recall his brilliant
talk that day gives me hesitation over the past tense of this
reminiscence. On the whole, with the exception of Doctor Holmes, I
think I should call Professor Park the best converser--at least among
eminent _men_--whom I have ever met.

He has always been a man very sensitive to the intellectual values
of life, and fully inclined perhaps to approach the spiritual through
those. It is easy to misunderstand a religious teacher of this
temperament, and his admiring students may have sometimes done so.

One in particular I remember to have heard of who neglected the
lecture-room to cultivate upon his own responsibility the misson work
of what was known as Abbott Village. To the Christian socialism of our
day, the misery of factory life might seem as important for the
future clergyman as the system of theology regnant in his particular
seminary--but that was not the fashion of the time; at all events, the
man was a student under the Professor's orders, and the orders were:
keep to the curriculum; and I can but think that the Professor was
right when he caustically said:

"That ---- is wasting his seminary course in what _he calls doing
good_!"

Sometimes, too, the students used to beg off to go on book-agencies,
or to prosecute other forms of money-making; and of one such Professor
Park was heard to say that he "sacrificed his education to get the
means of paying for it."

I am indebted to Professor Park for this: "Professor Stuart and myself
were reluctant to release them from their studies. Professor Stuart
remarked of one student that he got excused _every_ Saturday for the
purpose of going home for a _week_, and always stayed a _fortnight_."

The last time that I saw Professor Park he told me a good story.
It concerned the days of his prime, when he had been preaching
somewhere--in Boston or New York, I think--and after the audience was
dismissed a man lingered and approached him.

"Sir," said the stranger, "I am under great obligations to you. Your
discourse has moved me gr