d the harsh lines on his face gave it a strong
individuality, which, though it did not attract, conveyed an impression
of power that could not fail to interest. As soon as he had given
attention time to fix itself upon him, he began his sermon without text
or preliminary matter of any kind, and apparently without notes.

He spoke clearly and very quietly, especially at the beginning; he used
action whenever it could point his meaning, or give it life and colour,
but there was no approach to staginess or even oratorical display. In
fact, he spoke as one who meant what he was saying, and desired that his
hearers should accept his meaning, fully confident in his good faith. His
use of pause was effective. After the word "mistake," at the end of the
opening sentence, he held up his half-bent hand and paused for full three
seconds, looking intently at his audience as he did so. Every one felt
the idea to be here enounced that was to dominate the sermon.

The sermon--so much of it as I can find room for--was as follows:-

"My friends, let there be no mistake. At such a time, as this, it is
well we should look back upon the path by which we have travelled, and
forward to the goal towards which we are tending. As it was necessary
that the material foundations of this building should be so sure that
there shall be no subsidence in the superstructure, so is it not less
necessary to ensure that there shall be no subsidence in the immaterial
structure that we have raised in consequence of the Sunchild's sojourn
among us. Therefore, my friends, I again say, 'Let there be no mistake.'
Each stone that goes towards the uprearing of this visible fane, each
human soul that does its part in building the invisible temple of our
national faith, is bearing witness to, and lending its support to, that
which is either the truth of truths, or the baseless fabric of a dream.

"My friends, this is the only possible alternative. He in whose name we
are here assembled, is either worthy of more reverential honour than we
can ever pay him, or he is worthy of no more honour than any other
honourable man among ourselves. There can be no halting between these
two opinions. The question of questions is, was he the child of the
tutelary god of this world--the sun, and is it to the palace of the sun
that he returned when he left us, or was he, as some amongst us still do
not hesitate to maintain, a mere man, escaping by unusual but strictly
na