midst of his slumbers the visions of angels had come to him, and he
had left a testimony behind him that was still a solace to their
hearts. Then he lowered his voice and said:

"You all condemns a man when you sees him asleep, not knowin' what
visions is a-goin' thoo his mind, nor what feelin's is a-goin thoo his
heart. You ain't conside'in' that mebbe he's a-doin' mo' in the soul
wo'k when he's asleep then when he's awake. Mebbe he sleep, w'en you
think he ought to be up a-wo'kin'. Mebbe he slumber w'en you think he
ought to be up an' erbout. Mebbe he sno' an' mebbe he sno't, but I'm
a-hyeah to tell you, in de wo'ds of the Book, that they ain't no
'sputin' 'Ef he sleep, he shell do well!'"

"Yes, Lawd!" "Amen!" "Sleep on Ed'ards!" some one shouted. The church
was in smiles of joy. They were rocking to and fro with the ecstasy of
the sermon, but the Rev. Elisha had not yet put on the cap sheaf.

"Hol' on," he said, "befo' you shouts er befo' you sanctions. Fu' you
may yet have to tu'n yo' backs erpon me, an' say, 'Lawd he'p the man!'
I's a-hyeah to tell you that many's the time in this very pulpit,
right under yo' very eyes, I has gone f'om meditation into slumber.
But what was the reason? Was I a-shirkin' er was I lazy?"

Shouts of "No! No!" from the congregation.

"No, no," pursued the preacher, "I wasn't a-shirkin' ner I wasn't
a-lazy, but the soul within me was a wo'kin' wid the min', an' as we
all gwine ter do some day befo' long, early in de mornin', I done
fu'git this ol' body. My haid fall on my breas', my eyes close, an' I
see visions of anothah day to come. I see visions of a new Heaven an'