hen I think," he exclaimed, "of the
things that have been done with the name of God on men's lips; of
atrocities such as the unspeakable Turk never perpetrated; of war waged
not upon to-day but upon the centuries of faith that reared great
cathedrals now in flames; of women and children laid upon the reeking
altars of human passion; and all this in the name of culture, the
culture of the superman who deems himself superior to the Ten
Commandments--then, I say, may God grant that the culture which beareth
such fruit may perish from off the face of the earth. Prayer for the
triumph of such a cause cannot be in Christ's name...."

But the preacher never got any further.

This was what happened, and I am afraid some will not believe me, for a
Scotsman in church is a stoic, motionless and dumb, as he listens to
the Word. But all the traditions of the parish were snapped in a
second. In the side gallery sat the General, sitting as he always does
with his back to the minister. This he does that he may mark who are
in church of his servants and tenants, and who absent.

When I read of the nobles in France who went to the scaffold with a
jest in the days of the Terror, I always think of the General. He is
that sort of man. To-day, little by little, as the sermon went on, he
turned round. At last he was facing the pulpit. His gleaming eyes
were fixed on the preacher. His son was dead. And when the words rang
through the church, may God grant that such culture may perish ... the
General sprang to his feet. "Amen" rang his voice through the church.

There was a sudden movement; as one man they all rose to their feet.
Hands were lifted up to heaven. "Amen," "Amen," they cried--and then
there rose a cheer--muffled, but still a cheer. In the pulpit the
words died on the preacher's lips. He seemed as one suddenly stricken.
He gazed bewildered over the sea of faces. They sank back into the
pews as though suddenly ashamed.

The last man to sit was my friend, who stood to the last with uplifted
hand. I think it was he who cried "Hear, hear"--the only sign he gave
of his long absence from church. The sermon was never finished. The
preacher in a low voice said, "Let us pray." And he humbled himself as
one who enters the valley of humiliation. And then he gave out this
psalm:--

Now Israel
May say, and that truly,
If that the Lord
Had not our cause maintained;
* * * * *
Then certain