The first time I ever stood in the pulpit to preach was in
the meeting-house of the ancient Connecticut town where I was
brought up. That was a great day for our folks and all my old
neighbors, you may depend. After benediction, when I passed
out into the vestibule, I was the recipient there of many
congratulatory expressions. Among my friends in the crowd was
an aged deacon, a man in whom survived, to a rather remarkable
degree, the original New England Puritan type, who had known
me from the cradle, and to whom the elevation I had reached
was as gratifying as it could possibly be to anybody. But
when he saw the smile of favor focused on me there, and me, I
dare say, appearing to bask somewhat in it, the dear old man
took alarm. He was apprehensive of the consequences to that
youngster. And so, taking me by the hand and wrestling down his
natural feelings--he was ready to cry for joy--he said: “Well,
Joseph, I hope you’ll live to preach a great deal better than
that!”--JOSEPH H. TWITCHELL.
(506)
=Compositions Compared=--See EDUCATION NOT VICARIOUS.