"When the wicked man turneth away from the wickedness that he hath
committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save
his soul alive."

I noticed this morning that he instantly attracted the attention of every
one, and held it, with the first words of the lesson:

"The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places: how are the
mighty fallen!"

It seemed to me as if the people at first almost tried to stop breathing,
so intense was the feeling. Mrs. Falchion was sitting very near me, and
though she had worn her veil up at first, as I uncharitably put it then,
to disconcert him, she drew it rather quickly down as his reading
proceeded; but, so far as I could see, she never took her eyes off
his face through the whole service; and, impelled in spite of myself,
I watched her closely. Though Ruth Devlin was sitting not far from her,
she scarcely looked that way.

Evidently the text of the sermon was not chosen that it might have some
association with Phil's death, but there was a kind of simple grandeur,
and certainly cheerful stalwartness, in his interpretation and practical
rendering of the text:

"Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah?
. . . travelling in the greatness of his strength? I that speak
in righteousness, mighty to save."

A man was talking to men sensibly, directly, quietly. It was impossible
to resist the wholesome eloquence of his temperament; he was a revelation