g in the young minister's mind as
he rose to speak to them. His sermon was a very quiet, practical one; a
sermon that sought to bring religion before them as a matter of
every-day life. It was altogether different from the torrent of speech
that usually flowed from that pulpit. The people grew restless under
this spiritual reserve. They wanted something to sanction, something to
shout for, and here was this man talking to them as simply and quietly
as if he were not in church.

As Uncle Isham Jones said, "De man never fetched an amen"; and the
people resented his ineffectiveness. Even Robert's father sat with his
head bowed in his hands, broken and ashamed of his son; and when,
without a flourish, the preacher sat down, after talking twenty-two
minutes by the clock, a shiver of surprise ran over the whole church.
His father had never pounded the desk for less than an hour.

Disappointment, even disgust, was written on every face. The singing was
spiritless, and as the people filed out of church and gathered in knots
about the door, the old-time head-shaking was resumed, and the comments
were many and unfavourable.

"Dat's what his schoolin' done fo' him," said one.

"It wasn't nothin' mo'n a lecter," was another's criticism.

"Put him 'side o' his father," said one of the Rev. Abram Dixon's loyal
members, "and bless my soul, de ol' man would preach all roun' him, and
he ain't been to no college, neither!"

Robert and his father walked home in silence together. When they were in
the house, the old man turned to his son and said:

"Is dat de way dey teach you to preach at college?"

"I followed my instructions as nearly as possible, father."

"Well, Lawd he'p dey preachin', den! Why, befo' I'd ha' been in dat
pulpit five minutes, I'd ha' had dem people moanin' an' hollerin' all
over de church."

"And would they have lived any more cleanly the next day?"

The old man looked at his son sadly, and shook his head as at one of the
unenlightened.

Robert did not preach in his father's church again before his visit came
to a close; but before going he said, "I want you to promise me you'll
come up and visit me, father. I want you to see the work I am trying to
do. I don't say that my way is best or that my work is a higher work,
but I do want you to see that I am in earnest."

"I ain't doubtin' you mean well, Robbie," said his father, "but I guess
I'd be a good deal out o' place up thaih."

"No, you wouldn't, fa