,
treating it in a different way each time. He endeavors to preach his
best sermons on stormy days, in order that the desire to hear his best
efforts may keep his congregation from degenerating into "fair-weather
Christians." "Once," he said, laughing, "it snowed or rained every
Sabbath in a certain winter, and the effort I had to make to remain
faithful to this rule came near killing me." When asked if he studied
his prayers, he answered promptly: "Never. I carry a feeling with me
such as a mother would have for her children were they lost in a great
forest. I feel that on every side my people are in danger, and that many
of them are like babes, weak and helpless. My heart goes out in sorrow
and in anxiety toward them, and at times I seem to carry all their
burdens. I find that when one's heart is wrapped and twined around the
hearts of others, it is not difficult to pray."

The church is provided with a large lecture-room, a study for the
pastor, and an elegant parlor. Mr. Beecher does not pay pastoral visits
to his people, unless he is sent for to visit the sick and dying, or
persons seeking help in their religious struggles. His parishioners are
scattered over so wide a territory that a systematic course of visiting
would consume all his time. In place of these visits, he meets his
congregation at stated times in social gatherings in the church parlor,
and these evenings are looked forward to with eagerness by both pastor
and people.

The most characteristic meeting of this congregation, however, even more
so than the Sunday services, is the Friday evening meeting, which is
held in the lecture-room. This room is plain and simple. It is provided
with comfortable seats and a grand piano. There is no pulpit in it, but
a small table and a chair are placed for the pastor on a low platform
covered with green baize. The object is to banish every thing like
formalism, and to make the meeting as free and unconstrained as a social
gathering. As at the Sunday services, the house is full, but now the
persons present are almost entirely members of the church. Strangers
rarely come to these meetings, and in staying away from them miss the
chance of seeing the true inner life of Plymouth Church. A gentleman who
was present at one of them, a few years ago, wrote the following account
of it for the "Atlantic Monthly:"

Mr. Beecher took his seat on the platform, and, after a short
pause, began the exercises by saying,