He begged them to take this truth home with them that all might be the better and the happier for it. The sermon was followed by a fervent prayer, an inspiring hymn, in which nearly all the congregation joined, and lastly, by the benediction. Em. saw the blind preacher raise his radiant face toward heaven to invoke the blessing, and she reverently bowed her head until he had ceased to speak. When she lifted it to look at him again he had disappeared and his hearers were dispersing. Em. turned inquiring eyes upon old Josias. “He’s only dropped down in his chair, behind the rose-vines, honey. Dat’s allers de way. ’Pears like arter de benediction he gibs right out,” the old man explained. “And you tell me that man is blind? ’Sias, I cannot realize it! Blind! Why, ’Sias, how _could_ he be blind when, at several places in his sermon that suited my case, he looked me right straight in the eyes as if he pointed his words directly to me? How could he know I sat there unless he could see me? How could he see me unless he had sight, and very excellent sight, too?” “Honey, I don’t know. Dat’s what ’stonishes us all; for dat’s de way he looks at us all, right in our eyes, right into our hearts, too. I dunno how it is. He is stone blind, dat is sartain sure, and yet he talks to yer wid his eyes as plain as anybody can speak. Maybe, honey, _his soul’s eyes sees your soul_; for he told us in one of his sermons how we was all souls that had bodies to live in; and not bodies that had souls; and how our souls were ourselves, and our bodies only our houses of flesh, our clothing, our instrument, that we were always using up and wearing out and having to repair by eating and drinking and breathing; but how we ourselves never did wear out.” “I should like to have heard that,” said Em., with a hungry look in her eyes. “’Nother time, honey, what do yer think he said? It was a hard sayin’ for us poor sinners, now I tell yer! He said the hardest resurrection was the resurrection of our souls out of de death of selfishness.” While the two had sat talking all the rest of the rural congregation had separated and gone down by the various paths leading from the hill to the shores of the island, all around which, at various landings, their boats were moored. At length the old man arose and put on his hat, saying: “Come, honey.” “Oh, Uncle ’Sias, don’t you think we might walk up these steps and walk around the beautiful rose-wreathed piazza and see the lovely oriel windows and balconies?” inquired Em. in a coaxing voice. “Sartin sure, honey! Come along!” replied the good-natured old fellow, leading the way. Up they went to the elegant porch with its rows of white stone pillars, wreathed around with climbing red and white roses, all in full bloom, on the outer side, and adorned with rows of crystal windows on the inner side. These windows had white shutters that closed within the house.