After the singing of the hymn, the preacher made a prayer; but it was cold and disjointed.  He had no freedom of utterance.  A chapter was read, an anthem sung, and then Mr. Adkin arose in the pulpit, took his text, and, ere giving utterance to the first words of his discourse, let his eyes wander over the congregation.  A little to the right sat Mr. Giles, wearing a very sober aspect of countenance, and looking at him with knit brows and compressed lips.  The sight caused the words “brother going to law with brother” to pass almost electrically through his mind.  As his glance rebounded from Mr. Giles quickly, it next rested upon Mrs. Smith, who, with perked head and a most malicious curling of the lip, said, as plain as manner could say it—­“You’re a nice man for a preacher, a’n’t you?”

How Mr. Adkin beat about the bushes and wrought in obscurity, darkening counsel by words without knowledge, during the half hour that followed the enunciation of his text, need not here be told.  None was more fully conscious than himself of his utter failure to give spiritual instruction to the waiting congregation.  The climax, so far as he was concerned, was yet to come.  As he descended the pulpit stairs, at the close of the service, some one slipped a piece of paper into his hand.  Glancing at the pencilled writing thereon, he read the rebuking words: 

“The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed.”

How could he feed them?  Are holy and divine things of such easy comprehension, that a man may devote the whole energies of his mind to worldly business during six days, and then become a lucid expounder of heavenly, mysteries on the Sabbath?  The influx of intelligence into the mind of a speaker, is in exact ratio with the knowledge he has acquired.  He may have, without this previous preparation, “free utterance,” as it is called; but this utterance brings no rational convictions; it sways only by the power of contagious enthusiasm.  Moreover, as in the case of Mr. Adkin, every lay preacher takes with him into the pulpit a taint from worldly and business contact, and his presence there must turn the thoughts of many hearers from his clerical to his personal character—­from the truth he enunciates, to his practical observance thereof in daily life.  He may be judged falsely; but the fact of his blending the two separate characters of clergyman and layman, forms an occasion for false judgment, and detracts from the usefulness of the sacred office.

Whether Mr. Adkin “held forth” again, we cannot apprize the reader.  New light, and new perceptions of duty certainly came into his mind; and we may hope that, as he was a well-meaning and conscientious man, he was led to act wisely in the future.

Having given a true picture of a week in the life of the lay preacher, our business with him is done.  It is for those whom it may concern to study the sketch, and see if it does not contain some points worthy their especial consideration.