into ’em, Bill.” Bill Rogers was well known as the funny man in Cowfold, a half-drunken buffoon, whose wit, such as it was, was retailed all over the place; a man who was specially pleased if he could be present in any assembly collected for any serious purpose and turn it into ridicule. He got upon a chair, not far from where George sat, but refused to go upon the platform. “No, thank yer my friends, I’m best down here; up there’s the place for the gentlefolk, the clever uns, them as buy grey mares!”⁠—(roars of laughter)⁠—“but, Mr. Chairman, with your permission”⁠—and here Bill put his had upon his chest and made a most profound bow to the chair, which caused more laughter⁠—“there is just one question I should like to ask⁠—not about the grey mare, sir”⁠—(roars of laughter again)⁠—“but I see a young gentleman here beknown to us all”⁠—(points to George)⁠—“and I should just like to ask him, does his mother-in-law⁠—not his mother, you observe, sir⁠—does his mother-in-law know he’s out?” Once more there was an explosion, for Mr. Broad’s refusal to take part in the contest was generally ascribed to Mrs. Broad. George sat still for a moment, hardly realising his position, and then the blood rose to his head; up crashed across the forms, and before the grin had settled into smoothness on Bill’s half-intoxicated features there was a grip like that of a giant on his greasy coat collar; he was dragged amidst shouts and blows to the door, George nothing heeding, and dismissed with such energy that he fell prostrate on the pavement. His friends had in vain attempted to stop George’s wrathful progress; but they were in a minority.

Next Saturday a report of the scene appeared in the county newspaper, giving full particulars, considerably exaggerated; and Mr. Broad read all about it to Mrs. Broad on Saturday afternoon, in the interval between the preparation of his two sermons. He had heard the story on the following day; but here was an authentic account in print. Mrs. Broad was of opinion that it was shocking; so vulgar, so low; her poor dear Priscilla, and so forth. Mr. Broad’s sullen animosity was so much stimulated that it had overcome his customary circumspection, and on the Sunday evening he preached from the text, “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” Mr. Broad remarked that the Apostle James made no mention here of the scheme of redemption; not because that was not the chief part of religion, but because he was considering religion in the aspect⁠—he was very fond of this word “aspect”⁠—which it presented to those outside the Church. He called upon his hearers to reflect with him for a few moments, in the first place, upon what religion was not; secondly, upon what it was; and thirdly, he would invite their attention to a few practical conclusions. He observed that religion did not consist in vain strife upon earthly matters, which only tended towards divisions in the Body of Christ. “At such a time as this, my brethren, it is important for us to remember that these disputes, especially if they are conducted with unseemly heat, are detrimental to the interests of the soul and give occasion to the enemy to blaspheme.” When Mr. Broad came to the secondly, and to that subdivision of it which dealt with freedom from worldly spots, he repeated the words with some emphasis, “ ‘Unspotted from the world.’ Think, my friends, of what this involves. Spots! The world spots and stains! We are not called upon to withdraw ourselves from the world⁠—the apostle does not say that⁠—but to keep ourselves unspotted, uncontaminated he appears to mean, by worldly influence. The word unspotted in the original bears that interpretation⁠—uncontaminated. Therefore, though we must be in the world, we are not to be of the world, but to set an example to it. In the world! Yes, my brethren, we must necessarily be in the world; that is the condition imposed upon us by the Divine Providence, because we are in a state of probation; we are so constituted, with a body, and with fleshly appetites, that we must be in the world; but we must be separate from it and its controversies, which are so unimportant compared with our eternal welfare.”

Mr. Bushel sat on high at his desk, where he gave out the hymns, and coughed every now and then, and looked straight at the pew where the Allens and George sat. Mr. Bushel knew well enough that, although he was just as ardent on the other side, the sermon was not meant for him, and not one of Mr. Broad’s remarks touched him. He thought only of the Allens, and rejoiced inwardly. George walked home with Priscilla in silence. At suppertime he suddenly said:

“I think your father might have found something better to do than preach at me.”

Priscilla was shocked. She had never heard a criticism on her father before.

“Really, George, what are you thinking of to talk in that way about a sermon, and on a Sunday night too?”

“He did preach at me; and if he has anything to say against me, why doesn’t he come and say it here or at the shop?”

“O George, this is dreadful! Besides, mamma did come and talk to me.”

“What has that got to do with it? Well, what did your mother say?”

“Why, she told me all about this meeting, and how you fought a man and nearly killed him, and you a member at Tanner’s Lane, and how you oughtn’t to have been there at all, and what Mr. Bushel was going to do.”

“Oughtn’t to have been there at all? Why not? I don’t believe you know any more than this table why I was there.”

“Oh yes, I do. You never tell me anything, but Mrs. Bushel told me. You want to

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