His face was small, and thin, and pale; but there was a pure light, an earnest, spiritual sweetness in the eyes--the irradiation of an anxious soul--as they surveyed the people.

After a few moments the music stopped.

There was perfect silence in the crowded church.

Then, moving like a shadow to the desk, the preacher, in a voice that was in singular harmony with the expression of his face, began to read a hymn.

His voice had a remarkable cadence, rising and falling with yearning tenderness and sober pathos.