Brother W. had bent forward to listen, but now he sunk back in his
seat. This was the eleventh commandment.

The sermon was deep, searching, yet affectionate and impressive. The
preacher uttered nothing that could in the least wound the brother and
sister of whose hospitality he had partaken, but he said much that
smote upon their hearts, and made them painfully conscious that they
had not shown as much kindness to the stranger as he had been entitled
to receive on the broad principles of humanity. But they suffered more
from mortification of feeling. To think that they had treated the
presiding elder of the district after such a fashion was deeply
humiliating; and the idea of the whole affair getting abroad
interfered sadly with their devotional feelings throughout the whole
period of service.

At last the sermon was over, the ordinance administered and the
benediction pronounced. Brother W. did not know what was best for him
to do. He never was more at a loss in his life. Then Mr. N. descended
from the pulpit; but he did not step forward to meet him. How could he
do that? Others gathered around him, but still he lingered and held
back.

"Where is Brother W.?" he at length heard asked. It was the voice of
the minister.

"Here he is," said one or two, opening the way to where the farmer
stood.

The preacher advanced, and catching his hand, said:--