oo, or whether it was a sort of warning because he had _not_
prepared. It was upon this latter train of thought, with reflections
concerning Aleck and myself woven into it--_I_ clearly not prepared, and
wondering whether Aleck was prepared--that I found myself starting as I
settled shyly upon my little corner of the chair, and looked timidly for
my Bible in order to find the text.

What was my surprise when Psalm lxvi. 18 was given out, and the
well-known words, so often repeated to myself, were repeated slowly and
impressively by the stranger clergyman from the pulpit--"If I regard
iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me."

It seemed to me so wonderful and so strange that he should have fixed
upon the very passage that I had thought of so often within the previous
two days, that at first I almost fancied I was dreaming. But I felt
still more surprised when, after anxiously attending to what was said
for a few minutes, I found the sermon was as easy to understand as my
mother's conversation after a Bible reading: all inattention was gone,
and for the first time in my life I was listening with interest deep
and anxious, whilst the clergyman, in simple language, explained the
text so clearly that not one in the church need have gone away
uninstructed.

_The_ great question that I wanted to hear answered was, Whether, in my
circumstances, with an unconfessed sin lying heavily on my heart, it was
of any use for me to pray to God for Aleck?--what was the exact meaning
of _regarding iniquity_ in my heart?

The very first words of the sermon landed us in the midst of the
question. "Unforgiven sin," said the clergyman, "is a barrier between
our souls and our God." And presently afterwards he referred us to
Isaiah lix. 2: "Your iniquities have separated between you and your God,
and your sins have hid his face from you that he will not hear;" and to
a long passage in the 1st chapter of Isaiah, finishing with the words,
"When ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of
blood." Then he spoke to the congregation of the many Sundays during
which they had come together to worship, whilst in the case of many of
them their lives were unsanctified, their religion for one day in seven
only, not for the whole week;--they loved their sins and would not give
them up on any account, hoping to square their account with God by an
outward attendance on Divine worship. It was all put in very simple
language; and we