On one occasion he was preaching upon prayer, and he suddenly broke forth into a graphic description of the animals entering the ark. After having seen the lion, the bear, the ape, and the snail enter, all whose progresses were graphically described, he went on to speak of the elephant, and he drew a lively picture of the monstrous beast ascending the plank that led to the entrance to the house-boat. “But how is this?” exclaimed the preacher. “The elephant is higher than the door. By no means can he walk in. Of no avail for Noah and his sons to prog him with goads. He cannot enter. The door is low, and his head is held too high. Then says Noah, ‘Go down on your knees, beast!’ and the elephant obeys. Then, Noah, Shem, Ham, and Japheth thrusting behind, they managed to get the elephant into the ark. And you, if you will enter the kingdom of heaven, must go down on your knees. Strait is the gate and narrow is the way.” The story is told differently in a little memoir of Stephen Jenkins that has been published recently (Tonypandy, 1902), but I give it as it reached me some years ago; probably the preacher used Noah’s ark more than once, and to enforce different maxims. The following is, however, from the book:-- “When Peter went to Cæsarea to his publication [_i.e._ preaching to which invited], ha took Mrs. Peter with him. And ha was putting up at a farmhouse. And the farmer took Peter around the farm with him, to show his stock to ’n. On the way home the bull roared at ’n, but ha didn’t notice that. When ha cam’ to the farm-yard, the ould gander cam’ hissing after ’n, but he didn’t mind that either. But, all of a sudden, the ould cock cam’ up to ’n quite bould, and sang _Cock-a-doodle-doo_, and he turned quite pale, and begged the farmer to let ’n go into the house. And when ha went into the house, Mrs. Peter asked, ‘What is the matter, Peter _bach_?’ ‘Oh, that ould bird again!’ he said.... Ah, my dear people, ould Conscience will remind you some way or other, of your past sins, even after you’re forgiven.” This may be absurd, but it served its purpose. Whether a preacher is justified in drawing so freely on his imagination is a question I do not enter upon. The sermon recalls to me one heard in a little Cornish chapel a few years ago. I believe that I give the preacher’s words without exaggeration. The text was from Psalm lvii. 8: “Awake up, my glory; awake, psaltery and harp.” And this was the opening of the discourse:--