, and yet I
fancied as I looked further at him that the trouble, whatever it was,
had ended. He seemed to me like one who has come out of a sharp storm,
and has anchored in a quiet haven. For whilst I noticed in his face the
traces of heavy sorrow, still at the same time he looked happier and
more peaceful than any of those who stood round him; in fact, it was the
most restful face I had ever seen. He was not an educated man, nor was
he what men call a gentleman, and yet there was a refinement about him
which made one feel at once that he was no common man, and had no common
history. His face was so interesting to me, that I am afraid I was
gazing at him instead of finding the hymn he had given out, but I was
recalled to my duty by his little daughter, who seized the hymn-book she
had given me at the beginning of the service, found the page for me, and
pointed with her small finger to the place.

It was a mission hymn, sung to a wild, irregular tune. I daresay I
should have smiled if I had heard it anywhere else, but it was no
laughing matter that morning. As I looked at the brown fishermen who had
taken off their oilskin caps, as I glanced at the earnest face of the
preacher, as I noticed how even children, like little Marjorie beside
me, were singing with all their heart and soul the simple plaintive
words, I felt strangely solemnized.

Then came the prayer, and I felt as he prayed that One whom we could not
see was standing amongst us. It was a very simple prayer, but it was the
outpouring of his heart to God, and many a low Amen broke from the lips
of the fishermen as their hearts went with his.

The sermon followed. Shall I call it a sermon? It was more an appeal
than a sermon, or even an address. There was no attempt at style, there
were no long words or stilted sentences; it was exactly what his prayer
had been, words spoken out of the abundance of his earnest heart. The
prayer had contained the outpouring of his soul to his God in heaven;
the words, to which we listened afterwards contained the outpouring of
his soul to us, his brothers and sisters on earth.

There was a great hush over the congregation whilst he spoke. The
mothers quieted their babes, the children sat with their eyes fixed on
the speaker; even those visitors who had been on the outskirts of the
crowd drew near to listen.

'What are you, dear friends?' he began; 'that is our subject to-day.
What are you? How many different answers I hear yo