assaulted?--one more lump, if you please. A man's sins are like his
corns. Neither the shoe nor the sermon must fit too snugly. I am a
clergyman, but I hope I am also a man of common sense--a practical man,
Mr. Gray. The general moral law and the means of grace, those are the
proper themes of the preacher. And the pastor ought to understand the
individual characters and pursuits of his parishioners, that he may
avoid all personality in applying the truth."

"Clearly," said Mr. Gray.

"For instance," reasoned the Doctor, as he slowly stirred his toddy, and
gesticulated with one skinny forefinger, occasionally sipping as he went
on, "if I have a deacon in my church who is a notorious miser, is it not
plain that, if I preach a strong sermon upon covetousness, every body in
the church will think of my deacon--will, in fact, apply the sermon to
him? The deacon, of course, will be the first to do it. And then, why,
good gracious! he might even take his hat and cane and stalk heavily down
the broad aisle, under my very nose, before my very eyes, and slam the
church door after him in my very face! Here at once is difficulty in the
church; hard feeling; perhaps even swearing. Am I, as a Christian
clergyman, to give occasion to uncharitable emotions, even to actual
profanity? Is not a Christian congregation, was not every early Christian
community, a society of brothers? Of course they were; of course we must
be. Little children, love one another. Let us dwell together, my
brethren, in amity," said the Doctor, putting down his glass, and
forgetting that he was in Mr. Gray's study; "and please give me your
ears while I show you this morning the enormity of burning widows upon
the funeral pyres of their husbands."

This was the Peewee Christianity; and after such a sermon the deacon has