Mr. Beecher took his seat on the platform, and, after a short
     pause, began the exercises by saying, in a low tone, these words: 
     “Six twenty-two.”

A rustling of the leaves of hymn-books interpreted the meaning of this mystical utterance, which otherwise might have been taken as announcing a discourse upon the prophetic numbers.  The piano confirmed the interpretation; and then the company burst into one of those joyous and unanimous singings which are so enchanting a feature of the services of this church.  Loud rose the beautiful harmony of voices, constraining every one to join in the song, even those most unused to sing.  When it was ended, the pastor, in the same low tone, pronounced a name, upon which one of the brethren rose to his feet, and the rest slightly inclined v their heads....  The prayers were all brief, perfectly quiet and simple, and free from the routine or regulation expressions.  There were but two or three of them, alternating with singing; and when that part of the exercises was concluded, Mr. Beecher had scarcely spoken.  The meeting ran alone, in the most spontaneous and pleasant manner....  There was a pause after the last hymn died away, and then Mr. Beecher, still seated, began, in the tone of conversation, to speak somewhat after this manner: 

“When,” said he, “I first began to walk as a Christian, in my youthful zeal I made many resolutions that were well meant, but indiscreet.  Among others, I remember I resolved to pray, at least once, in some way, every hour that I was awake.  I tried faithfully to keep this resolution, but never having succeeded a single day, I suffered the pangs of self-reproach, until reflection satisfied me that the only wisdom possible, with regard to such a resolve, was to break it.  I remember, too, that I made a resolution to speak upon religion to every person with whom I conversed,—­on steamboats, in the streets, anywhere.  In this, also, I failed, as I ought; and I soon learned that, in the sowing of such seed, as in other sowings, times, and seasons, and methods must be considered and selected, or a man may defeat his own object, and make religion loathsome.”

In language like this he introduced the topic of the evening’s conversation, which was, How far, and on what occasions, and in what manner, one person may invade, so to speak, the personality of another, and speak to him upon his moral condition.  The pastor expressed his own opinion, always in the conversational tone, in a talk of ten minutes’ duration, in the course of which he applauded, not censured, the delicacy which causes most people to shrink from doing it.  He said that a man’s personality was not a macadamized road for every vehicle to drive upon at will, but rather a sacred inclosure, to be entered, if at all, with the consent of the owner, and with deference to his feelings and tastes.  He maintained, however, that there were