Divers Women | Page 2

dressing-room and the
kitchen--startling the ear with that strange-sounding sentence: "Take
heed what ye do." According to him religion was not a thing of music,
and flowers, and soft carpets, and stained lights, and sentiment. It had
to do with other days than Sunday, with other hours than those spent in
softly cushioned pews. It meant doing, and it meant taking heed to each
little turn and word and even thought, remembering always that the fear
of the Lord was the thing to be dreaded. What a solemn matter that
made of life! Who wanted to be so trammelled! It would be fearful. As
for the minister, he presented every word of his sermon as though he
felt it thrilling to his very soul. And so he did. If you had chanced to
pass the parsonage on that Saturday evening which preceded its
delivery--passed it as late as midnight--you would have seen a gleam of
light from his study window. Not that he was so late with his Sabbath
preparation--at least the written preparation. It was that he was on his
knees, pleading with an unutterable longing for the souls committed to
his charge--pleading that the sermon just laid aside might be used to the
quickening and converting of some soul--pleading that the Lord would
come into his vineyard and see if there were not growing some shoots
of love and faith and trust that would bring harvest.
It was not that minister's custom to so infringe on the sleeping hours of
Saturday night--time which had been given to his body, in order that it
might be vigorous, instead of clogging the soul with the dullness of its
weight. But there are special hours in the life of most men, and this
Saturday evening was a special time to him. He felt like wrestling for
the blessing--felt in a faint degree some of the persistency of the
servant of old who said: "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me."
Hence the special unction of the morning. Somewhat of the same spirit
had possessed him during the week, hence the special fervour of the

sermon. With his soul glowing then in every sentence, he presented his
thoughts to the people. How did they receive them? Some listened with
the thoughtful look on their faces that betokened hearts and consciences
stirred. There were those who yawned, and thought the sermon
unusually long and prosy. Now and then a gentleman more thoughtless
or less cultured than the rest snapped his watch-case in the very face of
the speaker, by accident, let us hope. A party of young men, who sat
under the gallery, exchanged notes about the doings of the week, and
even passed a few slips of paper to the young ladies from the seminary,
who sat in front of them. The paper contained nothing more formidable
than a few refreshments in the shape of caramels with which to beguile
the tedious-ness of the hour. There was a less cultured party of young
men and women who unceremoniously whispered at intervals through
the entire service, and some of the whispers were so funny that
occasionally a head went down and the seat shook, as the amused party
endeavoured, or professed to endeavour, to subdue untimely laughter. I
presume we have all seen those persons who deem it a mark of vivacity,
or special brilliancy, to be unable to control their risibles in certain
places. It is curious how often the seeming attempt is, in a glaring way,
nothing but seeming. These parties perhaps did not break the Sabbath
any more directly than the note-writers behind them, but they certainly
did it more noisily and with more marked evidence of lack of ordinary
culture. The leader of the choir found an absorbing volume in a book of
anthems that had been recently introduced. He turned the leaves
without regard to their rustle, and surveyed piece after piece with a
critical eye, while the occasionally peculiar pucker of his lips showed
that he was trying special ones, and that just enough sense of decorum
remained with him to prevent the whistle from being audible. Then
there were, dotted all over the great church, heads that nodded assent to
the minister at regular intervals; but the owners of the heads had closed
eyes and open mouths, and the occasional breathing that suggested a
coming snore was marked enough to cause nervous nudges from
convenient elbows, and make small boys who were looking on chuckle
with delight.
And thus, surrounded by all these different specimens of humanity, the
pastor strove to declare the whole counsel of God, mindful of the rest

of the charge, "whether men will hear or whether they will forbear." He
could not help a half-drawn breath of thanksgiving that that part