days, flowing on with scarce a ripple. Instead, they held long heated
discussions that only served to widen the distance between them.

"I beg your pardon," Vida said, in sarcastic tones, during one of
these skirmishes, "but I think it would be much more to your profit
to attend the meetings of our society than to find fault with me. If
you would study Shakespeare more, it might freshen up your sermons
somewhat, and lift them from the commonplace. I cannot but think you
are degenerating. The first discourse I heard you preach was filled
with poetical fancies and literary allusions, and the language was
flowery and beautiful. Your preaching seems to have changed of late;
last Sabbath, for example, it was mere 'talk' without rhetoric or
eloquence; the most ignorant in the church could have understood
them. I thought you would receive a call soon to a wealthy church in
a large city, but you never will make a reputation if you preach in
this style."

Mrs. Eldred's angry passions were raised to a high pitch, or she
would not have spoken thus plainly.

The sorely tried spirit of the man who listened could not repress a
groan at the conclusion of this long tirade. He did not trust himself
to say one word, but went with a slow, heavy step, like one who had
received a mortal hurt, to his study. The irritation he might
otherwise have felt at such words, was lost in sorrow at the utter
lack of sympathy, and apparent ignorance of the spirit and aims of
the gospel.

He had been coming nearer to Christ the last few months, had received
a new baptism, and with it a new view of preaching the gospel. He