He was amazed; the congregation was dumbfounded. Taking off his spectacles, wiping them carefully, he put them on his nose again, gazed at the book in consternation: "Well," said he, "I never seed that hime in this yer hime-book before; but the Lord put it in, and we'll sing it whir or no," and proceeded: "'The preacher kissed the cobbler's wife, pop goes the weasel.'" As I have said before, it requires a surgical operation to get progressive ideas through our thick heads; but the knife was used freely by me, and I had the satisfaction as well as the odium of infusing much young blood into the worn out educational body during my two years' service as school superintendent in this town. A few of us wasted our money in building a new church, dedicated to the teaching of the advanced thoughts of the liberal faith; but the people were joined to their idols, and it is now deserted, though the "little leaven has largely leavened the whole lump" of the ancient hell fire theology. It is very, very hard to endure the slings and arrows of the jealous and envious for whose good you are toiling; to be slandered and reviled by your neighbors whose feeble intellects fail to appreciate your strenuous efforts to push forward the car of progress in their midst; but the consolations expressed in this poem bring balm to every wounded spirit. "I know as my life grows older, And mine eyes have clearer sight, That under each rank wrong, somewhere, There lies the root of right. That each sorrow has its purpose By the suffering oft unguessed; But as sure as the sun brings morning, Whatever is, is best. "I know that each sinful action, As sure as the night brings shade, Is some time, somewhere punished, Though the hour be long delayed. I know that the soul is aided Sometimes, by the heart's unrest, And to grow, means often to suffer; But whatever is, is best. "I know there are no errors In the great eternal plan, And all things work together For the final good of man. And I know when my soul speeds onward In the grand eternal quest, I shall say, as I look earthward, Whatever is, is best." CHAPTER XIII. THE ANGELS OF LIFE AND DEATH. By and by unwonted silence and anxiety reigned in our house. The family doctor remained all night, then a faint cry was heard, and little baby May came into this world of ours, "The gates of heaven were left ajar; With clasping hands and dreamy eyes, Wandering out of paradise, She saw this planet, like a star; We felt we had a link between This real world and that unseen." These beautiful lines of one of the sweetest of earth's singers, came to us like a new revelation at the advent of our first-born, as also those other immortal words--