arrow creed. He preached some stirring sermons. It was God's judgment
upon them for their sins. They had forgotten him, they had been led away
by false gods; they had made golden calves, and worshipped them; their
sons had strayed into infidelity; their daughters had flaunted in gay
attire, with plaiting of the hair, and dancing away their immortal
souls; and now they must return to their God, to the meat that perisheth
not, to the bread of life, and to the well of living water. There must
be such a returning to God, such a revival of religion, that the world
would be swept clear and clean out of its old sins!

"Splendid sermon! splendid sermon!" said Deacon Boyd, rubbing his hands
together unctuously. "Parson's hit the nail just on the head. We've all
strayed out of the way. I think a good old-fashioned revival'll set us
straight sooner'n any thing. Nothing like coming to the Lord on the
spot! This very week we ought to begin."

"I think you're right, Deacon Boyd," said grave Mr. Rising. "I, for one,
will take hold of the work."

They called the church together, and began. I will not disparage the
work. There were hungry souls that seemed fed with spiritual food,
aching hearts that were bound up, reckless minds that paused on the
verge of desperation. But there were others who wondered, even in the
midst of the deacon's prayer, how it was that the Lord warned him to
draw his twenty thousand dollars out of Yerbury Bank a week before the
failure, when there were only he and his wife to keep, and let poor Mrs.
Wharton with her five helpless children lose her husband's
life-insurance, her little all, by putting it in the bank just a
fortnight before the failure. Special providences, whereof Deacon Boyd
discoursed so eloquently, happened oftener to the rich than to the poor.

However, they prayed and fasted and repented. To many, any strong
emotion that took them out of the wearing round of thought was a
blessing.

Jack Darcy, with a curious disbelief in every thing, went the rounds,
and dropped into Maverick's office to talk it over. Sylvie was not home
this winter: she and her aunt spent it in Philadelphia. Then Jack grew
dull and restless. If the end of all things had come in Yerbury, he
ought to try some other place in the great world.

It was settled presently quite by accident. A cousin of Mrs. Darcy's,
one of your strong, thorough, energetic women, came to spend the winter
with them; and Jack's mother, watching