“‘No,’ is the reply.  ’We are going out together soon.  What can I do for you?’

“‘Well I can call again if you are too busy to talk to me now?’

“‘No, I am not too busy.  Speak up.  I can give you ten minutes.’

“‘But I want a long talk,’ persists the visitor.

“‘I’d like to oblige you,’ says the preacher, ’but I’m very busy to-day.’

“‘I’ll come to-morrow.’

“‘No; I shall be busy to-morrow also.’

“‘And to-night, too?’

“‘Yes; my time is engaged for the entire week.’

“‘Well, then,’ says the young man, in a stammering way; ’I want your advice.  I’m employed in a big house in New York and I am getting a fair salary.  I have been offered a position in a rival house.  Would it be right and honourable for me to leave?  I am to get a little more salary.  I must give my answer by to-morrow.  I must make some excuse for leaving.  I’ve thought it all over and don’t know what to say.  My present employers have treated me well.  I want your advice.’

“The good preacher protests that it is a delicate question to put to a stranger, even if that stranger happens to be a minister.

“’Is the firm a good one?  Are you treated well?  Haven’t you a fair chance?  Aren’t they honourable men?’

“The answer to all these questions was in the affirmative.

“’But you could tell me whether it would be right for me to do it, and—­and—­if I could get a letter of recommendation from you it would help me.’

“‘Why don’t you ask your mother or father for advice?’

“‘They are dead.’

“‘Was your mother a Christian?’

“‘Yes.’

“’Then get down on your knees here and lift your face to heaven.  Ask your angel mother if you would be doing right.’

“The young man’s eyes fall to the floor.  He toys nervously with his hat and backs out of the hall to the door.  As he turns the knob he holds out his right-hand to the preacher and whispers: 

“‘I thank you for your advice.  I’ll not leave my present employer.’

“Now the great preacher hastily puts on a thick overcoat and, taking a heavy walking-stick in hand, says:  ‘We’ll go now.’  He calls a cheery ‘goodbye’ to Mrs. Talmage and closes the big door behind him.  The air is crispy and invigorating.  Once in the street the preacher throws back his shoulders until his form is as straight as that of an Indian.  His blue eyes look out from behind a pair of shaggy eyebrows.  They snap and sparkle like a schoolboy’s.  The face denotes health and strength.  The preacher is fond of walking and strides along with giant steps.  The colour quickly mounts to his cheeks and reveals a face free from lines and full of health and manly vigour.  He has noted the direction that he is to take carefully.  As he walks along the street he is noticed by everybody.  His figure is a familiar one in the streets of Brooklyn.  Nearly everybody bows to him.  He has a hearty ‘How are you to-day?’ for all.