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"To write another story. Tell me about it. Perhaps I could do it. You take a blotter and a pen and plenty of half-sheets of paper 'tracts, Evangeline calls them! Then you write 'Good Lord! That is what Evangeline says you wrote on a tract! She said maybe it was a sermon." "Oh Evangeline! And speaking of angels " "Mercy gracious! You're here both o' you!
Hardly was there a dissenting voice in all St. Antipas that Sabbath upon the proposal that this powerful young preacher be called to its pulpit. The few who warily suggested that he might be too visionary, not sufficiently in touch with the present day, were quieted the following Sabbath by a very different sermon on certain flaws in the fashionable drama.
Then we ended by singing a hymn, which seemed to me a very beautiful one: I was glad to see at the end of the service that Duncan's mate was still sitting under the old boat with his hands over his face. He had evidently felt the sermon very much, and when he rose to go home after the others had dispersed, I saw Mr. Christie walking by his side. That was a lovely Sunday evening.
I have felt all day as if he were coming." "They say he is a good man, and preaches most powerfully. Mr. Jones heard him preach in New York at the last conference, and tells me he never heard such a sermon as he gave them. It cut right and left, and his words went home to every heart like arrows of conviction."
There was in it rebuke for sin, especially hypocrisy, there was definite rebuke of the greed of wealth and the selfishness of fashion, two things that First Church never heard rebuked this way before, and there was a love of his people that gathered new force as the sermon went on. When it was finished there were those who were saying in their hearts, "The Spirit moved that sermon."
The business of the day, with a particular detail of which it is unnecessary to trouble the reader, was gone through according to the established form, and the sermon pronounced upon the occasion had the good fortune to please even the critical David Deans, though it was only an hour and a quarter long, which David termed a short allowance of spiritual provender.
This was Ruth's answer; but she had had her sermon; and of all the preachers at Chautauqua, the one who had preached to her was Marion Wilbur, the infidel school-teacher! It was her use of Dr. Pierce's arrow that had thrust Ruth. She gave herself up to the thought of it all during that wonderful afternoon meeting.
The Puritans showed their strength of mind and heart by preferring a sermon an hour and a half long, into which the preacher put his whole soul, and lopping away all these externals, into which religious life had first leafed and flowered, and then petrified.
The slender, lively little hound and the two sculptured figures lying, peaceful in death, for ever side by side, touched and captivated Damaris from the first time she set eyes on them. She reverenced and loved them, weaving endless stories about them when, in the tedium of prayer or over-lengthy sermon, her attention, all too often, strayed.
The sweetness of those girlish faces held us captive through many a long sermon, but there were times when not even their beauty availed. Three or four of us occasionally slipped away into the glorious forest to pick berries or nuts, or to loaf in the odorous shade of the elms along the creek.
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