rived with the minister, and a
service for the day following was duly announced. We took care that Ould
Michael should be in fit condition to be profited by the Rev. John
Macleod's discourse. The service was held in the blacksmith's shop, the
largest building available. The minister was a big, dark man with a
massive head and a great, rolling voice which he used with tremendous
effect in all the parts of his service. The psalm he sang mostly alone,
which appeared to trouble him not at all. The scripture lesson he read
with a rhythmic, solemn cadence that may have broken every rule of
elocution, but was nevertheless most impressive. His prayer, during
which McFarquhar stood, while all the rest sat, was a most extraordinary
production. In a most leisurely fashion it pursued its course through a
whole system of theology, with careful explanation at critical places,
lest there should be any mistaking of his position. Then it proceeded to
deal with all classes and condition of men, from the Queen downward. As
to McFarquhar, it was easy to see from his face that the prayer was only
another proof that the minister had "the gift," but to the others, who
had never had McFarquhar's privilege, it was only a marvelous, though
impressive performance. Before he closed, however, he remembered the
people before him and, in simple, strong, heart-reaching words, he
prayed for their salvation.

"Why, in Heaven's name," I said afterwards to McFarquhar, "didn't he
begin his prayer where he ended? Does he think the Almighty isn't posted
in theology?" But McFarquhar would only reply: "Ay, it was grand? He has
the gift!"

The sermon was, as McFarquhar said, "terrible powerful." The text I
forget, but it gave the opportunity for an elaborate proof of the
universal depravity of the race and of their consequent condemnation. He
had no great difficulty in establishing the first position to the
satisfaction of his audience, and the effect produced was
correspondingly slight; but when he came to describe the meaning and the
consequences of condemnation, he grew terrible, indeed. His pictures
were lurid in the extreme. No man before him but was greatly stirred up.
Some began to move uneasily in their seats; some tried to assume
indifference; some were openly enraged; but none shared McFarquhar's
visible and solemn delight. Ould Michael's face showed nothing; but,
after all was over, in answer to McFarquhar's enthusiastic exclamation
he finally grun