t finally, in his worn, subdued voice, lead the forlorn
hope.

The sermon on this inaugural occasion may justly be termed a work of
art. It must be conclusive of the piety, learning, eloquence, and
sound doctrine of the preacher, and be by turns argumentative,
combative, stirring, pathetic, practical, and pictorial. The text has
about the same connection at first with the discourse that a campanile
has with a cathedral. A solid eulogium upon the book from which it is
taken gives occasion for some side-slashes at Voltaire, Hume, and
Gibbon; the deaths of these are contrasted with the obsequies of the
righteous, and the old-fashioned, material place of punishment is
reasserted and minutely described. The text is then said to naturally
resolve itself into three parts--the injunction, the direction, and
some practical illustrations. The injunction, it is further allowed,
re-subdivides itself, and these parts are each proclaimed in the form
of speech of "Once more." We are quite too old a hand at listening to
imagine that "once more" means _only_ once more, and start to
enumerate the beams in the roof, the panes in the windows, and the
gray hairs in the old gentleman's head before us. About the time that
we feel sleepy an anecdote arouses us: then the iteration of
expletives from the membership succeeds; we see that the owner of the
tuning-fork has fallen to sleep in so ingenious an attitude that he
would never have been detected but for his snore, and are amused by
the fashion one good lady has of slowly wagging her head as she drinks
in the discourse. A slight commotion in the gallery arises, which
gives a steward excuse to steal down the aisle and hasten to the scene
of disturbance; the final appeal, brimming with the poetry of mercy,
grace, patience, and salvation is said; we all kneel down upon the
hard cold floor while the last prayer is being made, and receive the
benediction, as if some invisible shadow of bright wings had fallen
upon the dust and fever of our lives.

To say that the first person is weary but vindicates the sagacity of
our father, who steals down to our side and whispers, "You may go out,
Fred, if you are tired." But curiosity compels us to remain after the
congregation is dismissed, that we may hear the class-meeting
experiences.

Those solemn corollaries to the service thrill me with their
recollection even now. The almost empty church echoing the sobs of the
weary, and heart-bruised, and spiri