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Thomas Wingfold, Curate

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WHETHER I SPEAK OF MYSELF.

He went into his closet and shut to the door--came out again, and went straight to visit a certain grievous old woman.

The next open result was, that, on the following Sunday, a man went up into the pulpit who, for the first time in his life, believed he had something to say to his fellow-sinners. It was not now the sacred spoil of the best of gleaning or catering that he bore thither with him, but the message given him by a light in his own inward parts, discovering therein the darkness and the wrong.

He opened no sermon-case, nor read words from any book, save, with trembling voice, these:


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