WHAT MAY MINISTERS AND LAYMEN ACCOMPLISH IN HALF-AN-HOUR?

WHAT might a minister do in half-an-hour? Why,

the answer is self-evident! He may, in half-an-hour, deliver a beautiful and soul-stirring sermon, abounding in moral truths and adorned with all the graces of genuine oratory. Within that space of time an eloquent preacher may make a speech so powerful as to lift scorners by sheer spiritual force out of their seat of vanity and sin and carry them in a column of fiery but righteous wrath to the very heaven of repentance. In thirty minutes a true minister of God may melt the stoniest hearts in his audience, and thaw them into dew of pity. Half-an-hour's time should be sufficient for a religious speaker to handle any subject skillfully and exhaustively, making it clear even to the comprehension of the least educated, while at the same time charming the intelligence and taste of refined minds by chasteness of diction and wealth of thought. A lecture of thirty minutes' duration may be made a gem of composition and truth. All this, and much more, may be accomplished in half-an-hour, and even in less time.

Well, why do ministers so seldom do what appears so desirable from the point of view of wisdom, harmony, and economy? Why do they so often keep their helpless victims in an agony of yawning and dull despair for fortyfive minutes, frequently a whole hour, and sometimes the length of an hour and a half? Like innocent lambs doomed to slaughter, the hearers sit in dumb misery submitting to their cruel fate, their only consolation being the

thought that they are suffering for their many sins. Wretched indeed is the state of the audience while the flood-gates of the preacher's vocabulary are opened and a torrent of turbid and turgid words is being poured out upon them, overflowing their minds and drowning every sensation but that of their utter helplessness and inability to escape. The gates of the church or synagogue are shut upon them by the inexorable sexton, and unless they should faint or die outright, they are bound to stay to the end, and neither God nor angel can help them. Should the forlorn creatures, from time to time, stealthily take out their watches to measure the length and width of their desolation and anguish, the minister darts at them a look of withering indignation, so that they shrink like guilty things and blush for shame.

Many preachers that, Sabbath after Sabbath, thus vex and afflict the best and most reverential portion of suffering humanity, are never aware of their sinful ways, never learn to know that by their long discourses they make the earth less habitable and less endurable. Some preachers, however, who at times deliver interminable sermons or lectures, happen to have true friends and a sensitive conscience to tell them that they have fallen into evil ways. Then forsooth they do repent and mourn over the deed that was overdone, and grieve over the overgrown sermon, which, with its unnaturally lengthened limbs and dropsical body, has descended into the grave of oblivion. Of the latter class of preachers that often transgress the bounds of time, but invariably are plagued by remorse afterward, I confess to be one! But a week ago-last Friday night-I again drew out my lecture to the length of three-quarters of an hour. Immediately after service cruel conscience began to attack me with bitter taunts and reproaches. I slunk out of the house of God abashed like a ghost at cockcrow! I took a walk with self-contempt at my side. The very stars seemed to wear a contemptuous smile; they

trembled so ironically! I seemed to hear them say, "Brevity is the soul of wit," aye, "brevity is the soul of wit!" It was late when my perturbed soul could find rest in sleep.

Alas, it was but for a short while that I enjoyed the blessing of self-forgetfulness! For soon the god of dreams began to play his mischievous pranks and tricks about me. I dreamed that I was dead and lay in a silver-mounted coffin ready for interment. I saw a vast amount of flowers in the room, and felt sorry to be no longer alive, that I might preach a strong sermon against such waste of money which could be spent to better purpose in aid of the poor. I regretted exceedingly to leave an intelligent and generous congregation. Still more did I grieve to part from my family. I was distressed that I should nevermore be able to read the books of many great minds, which, through idleness, I had in my life-time failed to read. It was, however, a great consolation to know for certain that the universal hope and belief of mankind in the immortality of man's soul was no mere dream, but a reality. Was not my spirit, while the body lay motionless and lifeless, thinking, meditating, and loving, even with greater energy and clearness than before? Soon a large number of good and tried friends, Jewish and Gentile, filed in and took of me a last look of infinite pity and tenderness. I heard my praises sounded on all sides from all lips in so extravagant a manner that my soul, which knew better, blushed for shame, although my bodily face continued pale and expressionless. All at once I heard one man say to a group of four or five other men in a low whisper, yet not low enough as not to be overheard by me: "All the good they say about him, now that he is gone, may be true; but Heaven forgive him his long sermons and his still longer lectures! At times he was a great bore. How anxiously I watched many a Friday evening for the end of the lecture that seemed never to come. I pitied myself and the other hearers,

but most of all the officers who are perched high in their seats of honor. The rest of the auditors could at least turn about and give vent to their impatience by sighs and expressive contortions of their features. But the poor officers from their high station, exposed on all sides to observation, had, by superhuman efforts, to hide their misery from the public eye and show a satisfied and serene countenance. I liked our lamented friend best during his annual vacation." The whole group looked and nodded assent. One of them, whose name I still remember, heaved a deep sigh and remarked: "Ah, poor soul, he is dead now, he meant it well!" And I who, while in the flesh, was so sensitive to criticism and prone to acknowledge any fault, being now wholly spiritual, felt neither indignation nor remorse nor compassion. Speak on, I said to myself, complain to your heart's content of the length of my sermons! God will surely reward me for having made a thorough use of the rare opportunities you offered me to see and address you in the house of God. When I happened to have you sinners before me, I was bound to give you two or three doses of moral medicine at once.

Presently a change came over the spirit of my dream. I was standing on the dismal shore of the river of death, and there came toward me an old man in a boat. His long beard was white with hoary age, his eyes were glowing and shining like orbs of fire. He beckoned to me, and winged desire wafted me from the river bank into the boat. It was a strange vessel! Some parts were beautiful, made of finest wood with artistically carved figures. Certain spots were covered with plates of gold and inlaid with precious gems. Other parts of the same boat, however, consisted of rotten wood with many holes in it, through which the dark waters were splashing. About the tenth portion of the sail was formed of purest white linen, but the rest was made up of dingy rags loosely held together. But the queerest and at the same time the most frightful feature were numerous tail-like appendages of immense length, which were

grown out of the very body of the boat and trailing alongside of it in the water. They seemed endowed with life, for they were writhing and twisting themselves as if in great pain and fear. Around them were swimming huge monsters, that eagerly swallowed them, but immediately cast them forth again. And I said to the ferryman: "Master, explain to me the mystery of this bark! Why is it so shabby and gorgeous at the same time? Have you no better material and no more skillful builders in your world?" And he answered: "Deluded mortal, this is the shadowy image of thy life on earth. The plates of gold mean—” "Stop!" I cried, "explain no more; I fully and sadly understand the structure of this boat. But tell me, what are these long appendages and the monsters following them?" Then the lank cheeks of Charon distorted themselves into a grim and deathly smile, as he replied: "Poor man, whom flatterers on earth, and especially those sons of Belial, the poetical reporters, called an eloquent speaker, these appendages are the excrescences of thy long sermons, the shadows of thy interminable lectures. Who are the monsters, thou askest? They are the ennui, the tedium, impatience, and despair of thy hearers. They had to swallow the intellectual food thou didst offer them, but they could not retain it." "Cruel demon!" I exclaimed, with tears of rage in my eyes, "wouldst thou even rob me of the good opinion I have of my work on earth?" He vouchsafed me no reply; his eyes only looked merciless scorn that thrilled me with anguish.

Soon I was brought before the dreaded Seat of Judgment, and found myself standing at the foot of the throne of the Ineffable Majesty. A flood of many-colored lights streamed forth from the mystery of Divine Presence. I could not look at the glory before me, for my eyes were dazzled as if by the rays of ten thousand suns. I closed my eyes and stood with my head bent downward. Then I heard a low voice of soul-bewitching sweetness. It spoke