the experience of the first sermon by a theological student which I
had recently read in a comic paper, and I trembled lest history was to
repeat itself.

This theologue, like many of his cloth, was possessed of the insane
impression that he was gifted with the sublime inspiration of
eloquence, and being invited to preach on his return to the old home
for vacation, he selected the somewhat startling text "and the dumb
ass opened his mouth and spake." On this elevating theme he wrote a
sensational sermon and committed it to memory in order that he might
electrify his audience with eye power as well as by verbal flow of
soul. The awful day arrived, but when the young apostle arose to
preach, stage fright banished from his mind all but the thrilling
text.

"My friends," said he, "we are informed by the holy book that this
dumb ass opened his mouth and spake." Then pulling his hair in
desperation, he repeated the text several times, when he was
interrupted by the disgusted pastor, who jumped to his feet and
shouted:

"Well, friends, as the dumb ass has nothing to say, let us pray."

This awful example well nigh converted me into another specimen of
this historic animal, but at last the pent up cave of the winds was
opened, and a gust of sound came forth which so stunned the listening
ears of my hearers that they dazedly mistook it for eloquence.

I painted to them the picture of the incorrigible sinner "on flames of
burning brimstone tossed, forever, oh forever lost." I did not intend