peak, I expected something strange. It did not seem
possible that such a crowd could gather year after year to listen to
mere plain preaching. For these are degenerate days. The minister
began so familiarly and easily in introducing his text that he was
half through his sermon before I began to realize that he was actually
in his sermon. It was the plainest thing possible. I had often heard
of his eloquence and poetic imagination. But there was little of
either, if we think of the old ideas. There was close continuous
attention. He was surely in earnest, but not a sign of oratorical
display. There were exciting gestures at times, and lofty periods.
But it was all so natural. At one point the whole audience burst into
laughter at a comic turn in an illustration, but the preacher went on
unconscious of it. It detracted nothing from the solemn theme. It was
what the 'Chautauqua Herald' last year called a 'Conwellian evening.'
It was unlike anything I ever saw or heard. Yet it was good to be
there. The sermon was crowded with illustrations, and was evidently
unstudied. They say he never takes time from his many cares to write a
sermon. That one was surely spontaneous. But it inspired the audience
to better lives and a higher faith. When he suddenly stopped and
quickly seized a hymn-book, the audience drew a long sigh. At once
people moved about again and looked at each other and smiled. The
whole congregation were at one with the preacher. There was a low hum
of whispering voices. But all was attention again when the hymn was
read. Then the glorious song. One of the finest organists in the
country, a blind gentleman by the name of Wood, was the power behind
the throne. The organ did praise God. Every one was carried on in a
flood of praise. It was rich. The benediction was a continuation of
the sermon and a closing prayer, all in a single sentence. I have
never heard one so unique. It fastened the evening's lesson. It was
not formal. The benediction was a blessing indeed. It broke every rule
of church form. It was a charming close, however. No one else but
Conwell could do it. Probably no one will try. Instantly at the close
of the service, all the people turned to each other and shook hands.
They entered into familiar conversation. Many spoke to me and invited
me to come again. There was no restraint. All was homelike and happy.
It was blessed to be there."

CHAPTER XVIII

FIRST DAYS AT GRACE BAPTIST CHURCH

Earl