"I am heartily glad to see that there is one ground upon which all of us can meet. Those of you who know me know what frequent occasion I have had to learn all that you have learned of the unspeakable power of a comforting God. I have instinctively passed the greater portion of my life in my affections, for I know of no other sentiment which is so all-comprehensive; and through these I have found daily new causes for mourning. We are informed by Jesus that the greatest of all commandments is that enjoining love toward God, and that the second is like unto it, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' To try to fulfill this command is to have constant incentives to mournfulness. Every day I have them, from some cause heretofore unexpected, and the causes involve so many other people in troubles, which might be avoided, and for which I can blame only myself, that but for the presence of the Comforter I would be driven to despair or madness. What a tremendous responsibility rests upon us, my friends, in this our greatest relation to humanity, and how impossible it would be to endure it unless aided by a power greater than our own. I cannot, by any words, express my satisfaction at hearing so many men, and, in other religious matters, men of such differing views, testify to the unfailing promptness of the Great Sympathizer. And I should be glad to hear a wider expression of experiences, and assure myself that, in troubles outside the range purely personal, my fellow-beings enjoy the comfort that I do. I am confident that the recital of such experiences would strengthen every one for greater works of humanity and love."
There was a dead silence for several minutes, and the leader finally relieved the uncomfortable sensation of the members by asking:
"Has any one any other remarks to offer?"
No one responded.
"The next lesson, which we will hardly have time to begin to-day, will be upon the third beatitude," said Deacon Bates. "The class may consider itself dismissed, I suppose."
"Now, wasn't that just like Alleman?" asked Squire Woodhouse of Captain Maile. "We were having the most heavenly time I ever did know inside of a church, and he utterly ruined it."
"The rest of you didn't act a bit as if you'd ruined yourselves, did you?" asked the Captain, in reply.
"Why, how?" asked the Squire.
"Eyes have they, but they see not," answered the Captain, starting abruptly for his carriage.