stern Buster rose, and presented to me the unmitigated force of his
unpleasant eye. Silence prevailed immediately.

"Now, sir," said my old friend, "what makes you think yourself a child
of grace? Speak out, if you please; I'm rather deaf."

"The loathing that I feel of what I was."

"Good!" said Jehu Tomkins, with strong emphasis, and loud enough to be
heard by every one.

"When did you feel the fetters fust busting from your spirit?"

"Not till I heard the minister's kind voice," was the reply.

"Do you always feel as strong upon the subject? Do you feel your spirit
always willing?"

"Oh, no," I answered; "there are dreadful fluctuations, and there is
nothing so uncertain as self-dependence. I have dark and bitter moments,
when I feel, in all its power, the melancholy truth--'When I would do
good, evil is present with me.'"

"Capital sign!--capital sign!" exclaimed Jehu Tomkins again; "quite
sufficient!--quite sufficient!"

Yes, it was so. A few questions were put to me by individuals, rather
for the sake of gratifying an impertinent curiosity, than that of
elucidating further proof of my proficiency, and the ceremony was
finished by my formal reception into the body of the church. A prayer