o place in which I have
found that a faithful and practical presentation of the "word of life"
is more eagerly welcomed. It is no place to exhibit a show sermon on
dress parade, but it is the very one in which to press home the word on
hearts and consciences, to arouse the impenitent, to give tonic truth to
the weak and the weary, to afford the word of comfort to the sorrowing
and soul-food to the many who hunger for the heavenly manna. I have
already narrated some of my pleasant experiences in preaching at
Saratoga, and I could add to them several other interesting incidents.

For about thirty summers, and occasionally in the winter, I found a
happy home at Dr. Strong's "Remedial Institute" on Circular Street. This
is a family hotel during the summer, and a sanitarium during the
remainder of the year. Every morning the guests assemble for worship,
and the intolerable trio of fashion, frivolity and fiddles, has never
invaded the refined and congenial atmosphere of the house. My host, Dr.
Strong, is an active member of the Methodist Church in that town, and
naturally a large number of ministers of that denomination are his
summer guests. This was very pleasant for me, for, although I am loyally
attached to my own "clan," yet I have a peculiarly warm side for the
ecclesiastical followers of the Wesleys, and am some times introduced in
their conferences as a "Methodistical Presbyterian." At Dr. Strong's I
met many of the leading Methodist ministers, and was exceedingly
"filled with their company." I met, among others, the sweet-spirited
Bishop Jaynes, who always seemed to be a legitimate successor of the
beloved disciple John. If Bishop Jaynes recalled the apostle John, let
me say that the venerated father of my kind host and the founder of the
Sanitarium, the late Dr. Sylvester S. Strong, was such an impersonation
of charming courtesy and fervid spirituality that he might be a
counterpart of "Luke the beloved physician." He was an admirable
preacher before he entered the medical profession. Bishop Peck was a
very entertaining companion and most fraternal in his warmheartedness.
He was a man of colossal proportions, and it was quite proper that he
was appointed to the charge of the churches in the wide regions of
California and Oregon. When he came thence to the General Conference, he
presented his protuberant figure to the assembly, and began with the
humorous announcement, "The Pacific slope salutes you!" On that same
"s