 to the situation, being troubled between the desire of asserting his dignity in the eyes of his flock and his natural reluctance to affront a man of Jonathan Maxfield's weight in the world. But he speedily hit on the assumption of an unctuous charity and toleration, as being the kind of demeanour best calculated for the circumstances. And perhaps he did not judge amiss. "I'm sure," said he, with a pious smile, "it is a real joy to the hearts of the faithful, and a good example to the unregenerate, to see believers dwelling together in unity, however much they may be compelled to differ on some points for conscience' sake."

"What was it as some one was saying just now about the working of the Lord's spirit?" asked Maxfield, cutting short Brother Jackson's verbal flow of milk and honey.

There was a little hesitation among those present as to who should answer this question. To answer it involved the utterance of a name which was known to be unpleasing in Mr. Maxfield's ears. Mrs. Thimbleby shrank into the background; she had a special dread of old Jonathan's stern hard face and manner. Richard Gibbs at length answered, simply, "We were speaking, Mr. Maxfield, of David Powell's preaching in Lady Lane and on Whit Meadow."

Maxfield pressed his lips together, and made an inarticulate sound, which might be taken to express contempt or disapprobation, or merely an acknowledgment of Gibbs's information.

"My! I should like to have been there!" exclaimed Mrs. Gladwish.

"Well, now," said Seth Maxfield, "my wife would walk twenty mile to keep out of the way of it. She was quite scared at all the accounts we heard."

"But what did you hear! And what did happen, after all?" asked Mrs. Gladwish. "I wish you would give us an account of it, Mr. Gibbs."

"It is hard to give an account of such thing to them as wasn't present, ma'am. But there was a great outpouring of grace."

Brother Jackson groaned slightly, then coughed, and shook his head.

"I never saw such a beautiful evening for the time of year," put in one of Gladwish's apprentices, a consumptive-looking lad with bright, dreamy eyes. "And all the folks standing in the sunset, and the river shining, and the leaves red and yellow on the branches—it was a wonderful sight.
