certainly a most refined and intelligent looking gathering of men and women.

We took our seats in a pew, from which we had an excellent view of the presiding minister. He was a tall, thin, dignified, quiet looking man. At the first glance one might have expected an orthodox, prosy, soporific sermon, but a more careful inspection of the man revealed a pair of keen, bead-like eyes, which seemed to "take in" every man or woman present in a most unusual manner; tightly compressed lips, and fingers that spasmodically clutched the book they held.

"He doesn't look sensational," I whispered conclusively to my husband.

"He looks very sensational," was the reply.

The preliminary service was a short one, and at the close of a hymn, exquisitely sung, suddenly looking up I saw the minister in the pulpit ready to begin. He made none of those prefatory announcements which are death to the artistic impressiveness of a sermon. Standing in his pulpit, he waited till the last deliciously tuneful strain of the choir had died away, and then gave out his text, clearly and deliberately. Before he