LAICUS; OR, THE EXPERIENCES OF A LAYMAN IN A COUNTRY PARISH. BY LYMAN ABBOTT. NEW YORK: 1872. CONTENTS. I. HOW I HAPPENED TO GO TO WHEATHEDGE II. MORE DIPLOMACY III. WE JOIN THE CHURCH IV. THE REAL PRESENCE V. OUR CHURCH FINANCES VI. AM I A DRONE VII. THE FIELD IS THE WORLD VIII. MR. GEAR IX. I GET MY FIRST BIBLE SCHOLAR X. THE DEACON'S SECOND SERVICE XI. OUR PASTOR RESIGNS XII. THE COMMITTEE ON SUPPLY HOLD AN INFORMAL MEETING XIII. MAURICE MAPLESON DECLINES TO SUBMIT TO A COMPETITIVE EXAMINATION XIV. THE SUPPLY COMMITTEE HOLD THEIR FIRST FORMAL MEETING XV. OUR CHRISTMAS AT WHEATHEDGE XVI. MR. GEAR AGAIN XVII. WANTED--A PASTOR XVIII. OUR PRAYER-MEETING XIX. WE ARE JILTED XX. WE PROPOSE XXI. MINISTERIAL SALARIES XXII. ECCLESIASTICAL FINANCIERING XXIII. OUR DONATION PARTY--BY JANE LAICUS XXIV. MAURICE MAPLESON XXV. OUR CHURCH-GARDEN XXVI. OUR TEMPERANCE PRAYER-MEETING XXVII. FATHER HYATT'S STORY XXVIII. OUR VILLAGE LIBRARY XXIX. MAURICE MAPLESON TRIES AN EXPERIMENT XXX. MR. HARDCAP'S FAMILY PRAYERS XXXI. IN DARKNESS XXXII. GOD SAID "LET THERE BE LIGHT" XXXIII. A RETROSPECT PREFACE. This book was not made; it has grown. When three years ago I left the pulpit to engage in literary work and took my seat among the laity in the pews, I found that many ecclesiastical and religious subjects presented a different aspect from that which they had presented when I saw them from the pulpit. I commenced in the CHRISTIAN UNION, in a series of "Letters from a Layman," to discuss from my new point of view some questions which are generally discussed from the clerical point of view alone. The letters were kindly received by the public. To some of the characters introduced I became personally attached. And the series of letters, commenced with the expectation that they might last through six or eight weeks, extended over a period of more than a year and a half--might perhaps have extended to the present it other duties had not usurped my time and thoughts. This was the beginning. But after a time thoughts and characters which presented themselves in isolated forms, and so were photographed for the columns of the newspaper, began to gather in groups. The single threads that had been spun for the weekly issue, wove themselves together in my imagination into the pattern of a simple story, true as to every substantial fact, yet fictitious in all its dress and form. And so out of Letters of Layman grew, I myself hardly know how, this simple story of a layman's life in a country parish.