The sermon closed with a passionate appeal to all present to accept Christ's offer of pardon, peace, and rest. The people rose to receive the benediction, half wondering at the sadness which oppressed them. Under other circumstances they would have crowded around the new pastor, offering their hands in token of their welcome. They had been prepared to receive him with enthusiasm. The weeks of suspense during which they were waiting his reply to their call had deepened their anxiety to obtain the services of one so highly recommended, but a weight had fallen on their spirits, and they silently left the church, a few casting glances back to the pulpit, where sat a figure prone and abject, the face buried in the hands.
So it happened that only the Committee who had heard him in the city waited to speak to him, and at length accompanied him, almost in silence, to the house of Mr. Asbury, where he was to remain until after his ordination.
[CHAPTER II.]
THE NEW PASTOR.
IN the mean time, in the spacious chamber assigned to the clergyman, a terrible conflict was raging. Possessed of the keenest susceptibilities, with a morbid sense of his own unworthiness, he was, alas, too well aware of the impression left upon his hearers by his morning's discourse.
"God forgive me!" he ejaculated, his hands pressed to his head. "Deliver me from this terrible burden. Make known to me thy will. Thou knowest my heart. I thought I heard thy voice. Show me the way in which I should walk. How can I, laden with sorrow, stand in God's stead and preach the gospel of salvation? Make haste to help me, O Lord! All my trust is in thee."
A light tap at his door disturbed his meditations. He presented to Annie a face so pallid and suffering that she started back, exclaiming,—
"You are ill, Mr. Angus: let me call mother."
"Oh no! I am not ill,—I mean not much. Certainly, I have a headache."
"I came to say that dinner is ready. Mother will give you something for your head."