saintly power of the man of God. What though his infant hand may
not have caused earthly waters to gush from the ground and heal the
blindness of the ministering priest, nevertheless doth childhood ever
call forth a well-spring of life, giving fresh sight to the blind,--to
teacher and taught.
But why go on? Who has not heard, again and again, the old-fashioned
prayer wherein all is laid forth, in outline, but with distinctness! We
give thanks for this. May this be impressed upon our hearts. May this
lead us solemnly to reflect.
The heart that is full must overflow,--if not in one way, then in
another.
Mr. Martin has not been told about Dr. Parsons. He sits and listens as
the Doctor goes on in the innocence of his heart, pouring forth with
warmth and fervor the life of the saint according to William Bullen
Morris, Priest of the Oratory,--pouring forth in unmistakable detail Mr.
Martin's projected discourse.
The prayer is ended; a hymn is sung, and then the missionary presents
to the audience the Rev. Mr. Martin, whom they are always delighted to
hear; he will now address them upon the life of Saint Patrick.
Mr. Martin rises. He takes a sip of water. He coughs slightly. He passes
his handkerchief across his lips. So far all is well. But the prayer is
in his mind. Moreover, he unfortunately catches his wife's eye, with a
suggestion of suppressed merriment in it.
What does he say? What can he say? There are certain vague lessons from
the saint's virtues; some applications of what the Doctor has set forth;
that is all. Saint Patrick was sober; we should be sober. Saint Patrick
was kind; we should be kind.
Even his own parishioners admitted that he had not been "happy" on this
particular occasion.
But at the close of the meeting Dr. Parsons received a compliment. As
he descended from the platform, Mr. John Keenan, who kept the
best-appointed bar-room on the street, advanced to meet him. Mr. Keenan
was in an exceedingly happy frame of mind. He grasped the Doctor's hand.
"I wish, sir," he said, with a fine brogue, "to congratulate you upon
your very eloquent prayer. It remind me, sir,--and I take pleasure to
say it,--it remind me, sir, of the Honorable John Kelly's noble oration
on Daniel O'Connell."
Late that evening the Doctor stood at his study-window, looking out for
a moment before retiring to rest. There was no light in the room, and
the maps and the charts and the tall book-shelves were only outlines
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