Luke's disinclination for a village congregation made him look into his own motives. Had all his work been at Trowsby been done for the glory of God? Had not the first year or two of his great popularity somewhat intoxicated him? Was the wish to preach to large audiences to win them to the service of the Lord? Or was it the delightful sense of power to sway their minds, that attracted him? Was the disappointment and the longing for a larger sphere caused at all by the fact that he was conscious that he had lost hold of his people? That they no longer hung on his words as of yore; that instead of looking up to him, as formerly, with admiration, they looked down on him as out of date? Sitting by his fire that night, looking at the dying coals, he saw himself for the first time in the light of one who had been weighed in the balances and found wanting. He was right down in the Valley of Humiliation, and in agony of soul. It was late when he went to his room. Then he dreamt that he was a Bishop preaching in St. Paul's Cathedral. He looked down at the sea of faces, and was conscious of a thrill of emotion as he saw the vast congregation before him. He felt triumphant and elated as among the number he noticed some of his parishioners at Trowsby, who had left his Church because they did not consider him up to date. He heard his fine voice echoing down the aisles as he gave out his text, and was congratulating himself on its texture, when the whole congregation rose to its feet, saying solemnly and slowly, "Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting." Then they filed out of the Cathedral till he was left standing alone in the pulpit, with the condemning words still echoing among the pillars. He awoke trembling with horror, and knew, in the anguish of his soul, that it was true of him. He had been weighed in the balances and found wanting. The cry of his little son in the adjoining room reached him; and he heard Rachel's soft voice singing: "Be near me Lord Jesus; I ask Thee to stay Close by me for ever, and love me I pray. Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care, And fit us for Heaven to live with Thee there." He rose and opened the door softly, and took the child from her arms. Rachel, almost too tired to smile or feel any surprise, lay down and slept. "Perhaps," said Luke to himself, "To take care of my little son, may be more to God's glory than to preach in St. Paul's Cathedral." He wrote the next morning before breakfast to refuse the London living and to accept the one in the country; and he never told his wife nor his mother that he had had a chance of experiencing the dream of his life and had put it away. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXIV. FOR LUKE'S SAKE.