; but then it isn't very modest or ladylike;
and, besides, it is unnecessary. There are plenty of men to do the
talking." "But," said common sense, "I don't see why it's a bit more
unladylike than the ladies' colloquy at the lyceum was last evening.
There were more people present than are here tonight; and as for the
men, they are perfectly mum. There seems to be plenty of opportunity
for somebody." "Well," said Satan, "it isn't customary at least, and
people will think strangely of you. Doubtless it would do more harm
than good."

This most potent argument, "People will think strangely of you,"
smothered common sense at once, as it is apt to do, and Ester raised
her head from the bowed position which it had occupied during this
whirl of thought, and considered the question settled. Some one began
to sing, and of all the words that _could_ have been chosen, came the
most unfortunate ones for this decision:

"On my head he poured his blessing,
Long time ago;
Now he calls me to confess him
Before I go.
My past life, all vile and hateful,
He saved from sin;
I should be the most ungrateful
Not to own him.
Death and hell he bade defiance,
Bore cross and pain;
Shame my tongue this guilty silence,
And speak his name."

This at once renewed the struggle, but in a different form. She no
longer said, "Ought I?" but, "Can I?" Still the spell of silence
seemed unbroken save by here and there a voice, and still Ester
parleyed with her conscience, getting as far now as to say: "When
Mr. Jones sits down, if there is another silence, I will try to say
something"--not quite meaning, though, to do any such thing, and
proving her word false by sitting very still after Mr. Jones sat down,
though there was plenty of silence. Then when Mr. Smith said a few
words, Ester whispered the same assurance to herself, with exactly the
same result. The something _decided_ for which she had been longing,
the opportunity to show the world just where she stood, had come at
last, and this was the way in which she was meeting it. At last
she knew by the heavy thuds which her heart began to give, that the
question was decided, that the very moment Deacon Graves sat down she
would rise; whether she would say any thing or not would depend upon
whether God gave her any thing to say--but at least she could stand
up for Jesus. But Mr. Parker's voice followed Deacon Graves'; and this
was what he said:

"Am I to unde