| "Help us to help each other, Lord, Each other's cross to bear; Let each his friendly aid afford, And feel a brother's care." |
The congregation rose, after the stranger had read the entire hymn, and had repeated the first two lines for them to sing. Brother W. usually started the tunes. He tried this time, but went off on a long meter tune. Discovering his mistake at the second word, he balked and tried it again, but now he stumbled on short meter. A musical brother came to his aid and led off with a tune that suited the measure in which the hymn was written. After singing, the congregation knelt, and the minister—for no one doubted his real character—addressed the throne of grace with much fervor and eloquence. The reading of a chapter in the Bible succeeded. Then there was a deep pause throughout the room in anticipation of the text, which the preacher prepared to announce.
The dropping of a pin might have been heard. Then the fine, emphatic tones of the preacher filled the room:—
"A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another."
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:—