THE WALLS OF ST.

ANTIPAS FALL AT THE THIRD BLAST On that dreaded morning a few weeks later, when the young minister faced a thronged St.Antipas at eleven o'clock service, his wife looked up at him from Aunt Bell's side in a pew well forward--the pew of Cyrus Browett--looked up at him in trembling, loving wonder.

Then a little tender half-smile of perfect faith went dreaming along her just-parted lips.

Let the many prototypes of Dives in St.Antipas--she could see the relentless profile of their chief at her right--be offended by his rugged speech: he should find atoning comfort in her new love.

Like Luther, he must stand there to say out the soul of him, and she was prostrate before his brave greatness.
When, at last, he came to read the biting verses of the parable, her heart beat as if it would be out to him, her face paled and hardened with the strain of his ordeal.
"And it came to pass that the beggar died and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom; the rich man also died and was buried.
"And in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off and Lazarus in his bosom.
"And he cried and said, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me and send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.' "But Abraham said, 'Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted and thou art tormented.'" The sermon began.