exhortation on the merits of a Christian life.

He had scarcely been talking for five minutes, when the ever watchful
congregation saw the pastor's head droop, and his eyes close. For the
next fifteen minutes, little or no attention was paid to Brother
Dyer's exhortation. The angry people were nudging each other,
whispering, and casting indignant glances at the sleeping pastor. He
awoke and sat up, just as the exhorter was finishing in a fiery
period. If those who watched him, were expecting to see any
embarrassed look on his face, or show of timidity in his eyes, they
were mistaken. Instead, his appearance was one of sudden alertness,
and his gaze that of a man in extreme exaltation. One would have said
that it had been given to him as to the inspired prophets of old to
see and to hear things far and beyond the ken of ordinary mortals. As
Brother Dyer sat down, he arose quickly and went forward to the front
of the pulpit with a firm step. Still, with the look of exaltation on
his face, he announced his text, "Ef he sleep he shell do well."

The congregation, which a moment before had been all indignation,
suddenly sprang into the most alert attention. There was a visible
pricking up of ears as the preacher entered into his subject. He spoke
first of the benefits of sleep, what it did for the worn human body
and the weary human soul, then turning off into a half-humorous,
half-quizzical strain, which was often in his sermons, he spoke of how
many times he had to forgive some of those who sat before him to-day
for nodding in their pews; then raising his voice, like a good
preacher, he came back to his text, exclaiming, "But ef he sleep, he
shell do well."

He went on then, and told of Jacob's sleep, and how at night, in the