"Certainly," was the amused reply. "Nothing so quickly destroys prejudice as the light of knowledge. If there are no more questions," she added after a pause, "the ladies who pledge themselves to Miss Sidney's support, as before stated, will please remain seated; all others will please rise." Mrs. Barnard's novel way of taking the vote, created considerable merriment, and all remained seated with the exception of a very few young ladies, who laughingly declared themselves minors and subject to authority; but they were heartily in sympathy with Miss Sidney and would do all in their power to sustain her. Mrs. Barnard then unfolded her plan, which was the offer of her parlors for all the meetings, until something better, if needed, could be secured. Mrs. Tracy renewed her request for the privilege of entertaining Miss Sidney, but agreed to "lend" her to the other ladies who might wish to invite her out to tea. Then a committee of invitation was formed, and another to attend to the music and other details. In conclusion, Mrs. Barnard suggested that if the ladies could keep a secret-it was very well understood they could not!--she thought it might save them considerable trouble to "keep silence" in regard to the proceedings of the meeting until the object of it should be attained. But the matter of course leaked out and some of the "liege lords" listened to a detailed and graphic report of the proceedings. These enlightened ones professed to be exceedingly amused over the affair, or expressed mock alarm over such revolutionizing results. It was unmistakably funny! The richest joke of the season! can the men come to these services, if they was asked to be given in the church; but want to?" the fact was sufficiently published by written notices put up in the "stores" and the postoffice, and otherwise verbally circulated. The hours for services were the same as those at the church, not excepting the Tuesday evening prayer-meeting. Miss Sidney was lodged at Mrs. Tracy's, and the ladies who called upon her on the Saturday after her arrival pronounced her to be "perfectly lovely," clear, calm-eyed, and exceedingly gentle in her manners. She possessed a peculiar charm for young girls, winning them at once by a cordial sympathy that seemed fully to appreciate all their girlish feelings, as well as to take delight in their fresh young charms. They felt that she had once, and not so very long ago, either, been a girl, and knew how it seemed to get a love-letter and go to her first party. The simplicity of her attire, too, had its effect upon them, for she was that type of a woman whom a smooth, snug coiffure and a black silk frock devoid of flounces and furbelows, relieved by neat white linen, become to perfection. This simplicity of dress impressed them like the classic drapery of a statue, as something chaste and elegant beyond anything called fashionable; and they began at once to wonder how they would look in similar attire. A woman preacher had evidently one advantage over her male confreres; she would have no need to be eternally preaching against the folly and extravagance of woman's dress, but be a living and moving example in herself of the grace and beauty of simplicity, which is a thousand times more effective than any amount of expostulation. Sunday morning dawned; the Barnard "church" was filled to overflowing with a congregation respectably sprinkled with men, who at the close of the services declared that the sermon had been " by no means bad; not very logical of course, but a good simple straight-forward Christian talk.” It reminded them of the reason John Newton gave for St. Paul's strictures upon women discoursing in church. They would persuade without argument, and reprove without giving offence." This "trial” meeting was, naturally, considering Miss Sid And so it might have proved to be-and the women never have heard the last of it but that Providence attended them throughout. A favorable reply was received from Miss Sidney, her engagements permitting her to begin her work in Dryden on the second Sunday in April. Mrs. Barnard had linen put down over her handsome carpets, and chairs by the dozen brought from the neighboring chairfactory. No announcement of the services 66 ney's qualifications, a very decided success. To hear a woman's voice reading the scriptures and hymns, ascending in prayer, and then "expounding the scriptures," was indeed very novel and interesting to the Dryden people. There was no ranting, no banging of pulpit upholstery, no attacks upon sects, no attempt to make up in a volume of sound for deficiency in ideas. She was serene, persuasive, earnest; illustrating her text with homely pictures, so that the outcome of her theme and its treatment was such as to apply to the every-day needs of the people, helping them to be more patient, more truthful, more loving and helpful toward one another. The service at the church that April Sunday morning was what one may easily imagine it to have been; there were three or four women, and a score and ten of men and boys, all looking like puzzled deacons in various stages of life. The preacher's efforts to appear unaffected by the quality of his congregation only threw his embarrassment into higher relief. The young lady who played the organ was at the "other church," and after a failure to complete the singing of the first hymn, a second was not attempted. The only fervor the preacher was enabled to put into the services occurred in his concluding prayer, when he besought the Lord to turn all persons from the error of their ways, to strengthen their hearts against being led away into strange worship, into unsanctified places, and to help all to hold steadfastly to the faith and customs of their fathers, which had served as a strong anchor to God's people for many, many generations. As the congregation filed down the middle aisle after the benediction, and salutations were being exchanged, an expression of countenance prevailed such as is invariably born of an attempt to look amused over what has really too much of chagrin in it to be very amusing. "This won't last long!" laughed the elders; "the women will very soon tire of this when the novelty wears off a bit! No harm though in indulging them in their whims occasionally." But the women did not seem to tire of their preacher. Her popularity increased day by day, until her Friday evening Bible class comprehended nearly all the young men and women in the village. All classes of believers and unbelievers were gradually attracted to her, and although no "revival" followed, there was a positive and thorough "spiritual awakening." All the societies and organizations of the church, the "Mite," the work for the poor, and even the prosy, flagging Sunday School, were quickened into new life. And this resulted through the women, from their having a pastor of their own sex. "It is just as I always felt," exclaimed Mrs. Tracy, in freeing her mind one day on the subject to a "brother." "A man is n't a woman, and he can't feel like a woman. In the church we have had the man view of things from the beginning down. You have had it all your own way, translating the Bible to suit yourselves, and explaining the scriptures likewise. I'm fairly dying to see Miss Julia Smith's translation of the Bible. I have often thought I could understand why the Catholic church makes so much of the Virgin Mary-she furnishes the woman element, without which something is lacking. We want a motherhood of God as well as a fatherhood. A friend of mine who had a very tyrannical father used to say that the idea of "father" and "fatherhood" were to her only suggestive of repulsion. Now in Miss Sidney we feel that we have a friend, a counselor and helper, who is a woman like us, and can sympathize with us, as woman can. Our young ladies are charmed with her, and she influences them in a way no male pastor could. The simple result of having a woman like her to influence them and be an example to them is of untold value. And you just ought to see her in a sick room; she's like a real angel there! And she has the good sense to know when a patient has greater need of gruel than of prayer. Now I don't believe at all in divorcing the work of men and women. Every community needs a man doctor as well as a woman doctor. Just so we need men and women physicians for the soul. I don't think we will ever have the ideal church until the ministry is composed of both men and women, and for my part I don't see why we cannot make a beginning right here in Dryden. Mrs. Barnard's parlors are all too small for Miss Sidney's congregations. The services at the church amount to just nothing, as you know; and my proposition is that we engage Miss Sidney to be our resident pastor, to preach for us every Sunday morning, and for the evening services continue to alternate with the same preachers we have been listening to during the year. Although Miss Sidney was brought up an Episcopalian, and educated in a Methodist theological school, she is no sectarian, but just a blessed good Christian, capable of helping us all. And I don't think the women will part with her, if they can help it. Now what do you think of my proposition?" "Well, I don't know," slowly replied the brother, looking into the palms of his hands; "it may by a very good one. I'll think about it." The women had already been thinking "about it" for several days; and after finding out that the majority of the men had no objections to the trial being made, the desired arrangement was quickly adjusted, and with comparatively little difficulty. The greatest objection came from the alternating clergymen, who at first declared that they could no longer serve under such circumstances. The circumstances were aggravating, as they diminished their financial receipts,and oblig ed them to put forth extra efforts, in order to command a congregation of any respectable size whatever. But they finally seemed to think that they had been "called of the Lord" to bear with the affliction and remain, seeing that Miss Sidney would at all events be retained. As the church was an independent one, it was unhampered by either a Methodist conference, a Presbyterian synod, or any other ecclesiastical "see," the men and women who built it and supported it being responsible to themselves for their own actions. The lapse of several months has proven the women's experiment to have been a good one, and although the "Dryden Union Church" approaches the ideal church, it is not yet entirely a model one. The ministerial broadcloth avoids fraternizing with the ministerial black silk; the priests bow only in the most lofty and sanctimonious manner to the sweet and saintly priestess of God. But she is beloved by her people, who are imitating the simplicity and unselfishness of her life. Mothers in Israel infold her in their hearts, and follow her ministrations with a fervent "God bless her," as they look upon her young and lovely face, and think with what earnestness and single-heartedness she has consecrated herself to the work of her Master. Little children love her, and gather about her, and will one day "rise up and call her blessed." Mary A. E. Wager-Fisher. ing, into which I am hastily inserted, and driven away from the station at a rate of speed which might be expected of a horsethief escaping from his pursurers. This marvelous celarity is subdued, however, when we reach the quiet lane, a little out of the village, which leads to the abode of my aunt; here she quiets her brisk little pony into a walk, throws the reins over the dasher, and encircles me with her long arms in an embrace which I can only liken to the hug of a bear. This is her first and last demonstration of affection during my visit, though it is always evident that I am dear as the apple of her eye; and, next to father, and the dear little sisters that I have brought up, I love Aunt Judith. Her house is a model of order from top to bottom. Everything is sorted, labeled, ticketed and arranged, in boxes, bags, bundles and drawers; while every door, window and spot of paint shines with untold cleanli ness. When I find myself in that south-west sitting-room, seated before the glowing open fire, with its brilliantly polished brass and irons, I gaze about in a state of ecstasy. In the corner nearest the fire stands the high backed old arm-chair in which my greatgrandfather daily snoozed, during the greater part of his brief career of ninety yearswithout so much as a pin-scratch upon its sacred varnish. In an opposite corner stands the tall clock which has been wound for the last hundred years at precisely twenty minutes past eight every Sunday morning, and never loses time. The luxuriant English ivy which stands at the base of said clock,— where the refulgent orb of day can beam upon it through the west window-has stood in the same spot for the last eight years. It climbs up to the brass balls and around the face of the clock, goes on to encircle the pictures of grandfather and grandmother, and if it be not profanation to use the words of "Watts' Divine Songs," "It never tires nor stops to rest Till round the room it shines." Between the windows stands a quaint table or light-stand, which is never allowed to reflect a contaminating spot or stain from its highly polished surface, or to harbor a wandering molecule of dust within the myriad crevices of its elaborately carved legs and dragonfeet. A book-case on one side contains Aunt Judith's library, which is not small, for she is an omnivorous reader; on the other side, a plump home-made lounge, covered with gay chintz, invites repose. The carpet is of cheery colors, and on a pleasant day the room is flooded with sunshine. It is the pleasantest room in the world to me. Aunt Judith is a character. Any one seeing her walk up the aisle of the Liverpool church could tell that, at a glance. It is popularly believed that there is a curve in the backbone of common humanity; but there is none in her's, believe me. Wind up one of "Mrs. Jarley's Wax Works," and send it up the broad aisle, and you will have some idea of the measured pace and stiff erectness of my stately aunt. The uprightness of her bearing is a symbol of the uprightness of her soul. She could not be betrayed into a small, mean, or ungenerous action. We were in the kitchen together yesterday morning, Aunt Judith grating potatoes for yeast, and I crocheting, when there was a step on the piazza, and then a tap at the door. "I believe it is a tramp, auntie," I said; "shall I go to the door?”* "Call me aunt, child. Yes, go to the door and point him to the wood-pile." "He has a lame hand," I said, coming back; "shall I give him anything?" She pushed by me to speak to the man herself; but he had wisely disappeared. "All my tramps have lame hands, arms, or backs," she said with a grim smile. “A wood-pile assists greatly to a knowledge of their weak points." "Don't you ever give to them, then?" I asked. "Give to them? of course not! If a man were in danger of starvation, he could manage to saw a little wood, even with a lame hand; be sure of that! I've lost all faith in tramps since I read Professor Wayland's essay, delivered before the Social Science Congress at Saratoga last fall. It was in several of the papers. I hope you read it, Elizabeth." She gave a keen glance at me over her spectacles, which was intended for severity itself; but it was so full of the deepest and truest interest in my welfare, that the attempt at severity was simply amusing, and I replied lightly: "It "I saw it; but I could n't think of reading such a long, abstruse article as that." "Foolish child!" cried Aunt Judith. was just as interesting as a novel; so practical; so wise; you ought to be interested in everything that concerns the welfare of humanity. I only wish I had saved the paper. I would read you the essay this very minute." "But you can give me the leading points, aunt. You know I always expect you to post me on all the topics of the day." This was a hobby of Aunt Judith's. "Yes, yes," she said, winking briskly to warn away an audacious tear; "poor motherless girl! Left with all the care of two little sisters at fifteen; daughter of my only sister; father just buried in his books. I'll help you, child, all I can; but first let me strain my hops and get my salt and sugar." These ingredients being duly added to the potatoes, Aunt Judith proceeded to stir the combination vigorously, and to enlighten me at the same time. "Now about tramps. That essay saidbut child," she cried, stopping short with a sudden burst of holy horror, "you don't give to tramps, do you?" "Why, I have given to them occasionally," I faltered; "didn't our Savior say, 'Give to him that asketh of thee'?" "Of course he did; but our Savior was n't a fool. He did n't mean that you should give a baby a lap full of red-hot coals to play with, because the little goose asks for them; and Paul says, 'If any will not work neither shall he eat.'" "O yes, that was short and easy reading." "Easy reading! O child, child! Never give up anything because it is hard. And those two little sisters to bring up, too! Conquer hard things; you need them to build up a good solid character. You don't find men building houses of putty. Neither can you expect education to grow like a weed. You must prepare the ground, plant deep, and then keep at it. "Now tramps again; General Stephenson says that you can remember-that these men have trades and might get work, but won't! That't the long and short of it. They like to herd together like beasts of the field, catching chickens with fishhooks." Why, aunt," I interrupted, "do beasts of the field catch chickens in that way?" Aunt Judith enjoyed a joke. She stopped and laughed heartily. "Don't know what I'm saying half the time when I talk about tramps," she said, "I get so indignant; but you know what I mean. They live in a disgraceful, lawless way; ready for riots, murders, thieving and begging. The state should shut them up, and not allow them to roam at large. It should compel them to work, and thus prevent crime, and increase of their numbers. That's what Professor Wayland thinks, and so do I." "But auntie-aunt I mean-it takes the wheels of state a perfect age to make one revolution; they don't 'fly swiftly round' like the wheels of Time,' you know; and in the mean time why not give a little bread and butter occasionally to a hungry man?" Aunt Judith looked the picture of despair. "Elizabeth Winthrop," she cried, "how does your father bring you up? Have n't you any principle about giving? What's right and what's wrong?-that's the question. "Now I call it wrong to give to tramps. It's encouraging idleness and crime; it's selfish benevolence; it's taking the children's bread and giving it to dogs, and I will prove it to you. "If you give to tramps at your house, you probably average at least four a week. Give each of these two slices of bread and butter, |