I thought he was going to finish here, thought he was going to utter the usual formula at the conclusion of a sermon, but he went on.
"God is teaching us many lessons—teaching us how foolish we are, how paltry have been our conceptions of Him; teaching us, too, our need of Him. Will the Church, will religion ever be the same to us again? I think not."
Again he stopped, and the people breathlessly waited, as if wondering what he would say next. To me he seemed like a man in doubt as to whether he ought to utter the words which had come into his mind.
"In the past," he went on, "religion, even in our quiet little village, has seemed as though it were divided into two camps. I have avoided the Chapel people and the Chapel people have avoided the Church. I need not say why. I am sure we shall never settle our differences by arguments or by criticisms. There has been too much of that in the past. This is a time when we need to pray, and so I am asking all the people in the parish, whether they belong to Chapel or to Church, to meet in the village schoolroom to-morrow night, to pray—to pray that God will bless our soldiers and sailors, and all who are seeking to help us to destroy this awful scourge of war, to pray for broken hearts at home, to pray that God will lead us all into His light."
He made a long pause here, and we wondered what was to come next. Then suddenly turning his face, as was his custom, he repeated the formula:
"And now to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be all honor, power, and dominion, world without end. Amen."
The little service was at an end. Quietly we left the old building and found our way into the churchyard. As I reached the gates, I felt a hand upon my arm and saw Squire Treherne standing by me.
"Will you come up and have a bite of supper, Erskine?" he said.
"Thank you, Squire, but I dare not. I ought not to have come out to-night."
"I am glad you did, anyhow," was the Squire's reply. "My word! this business is giving us a shaking up. Trelaske has never preached such a sermon before in my hearing."