Finally he
urged unity, and deprecated especially religious and denomi-
national bickering. "To-day," he said, with a smile, "the
world cares little whether a man be Baptist or Methodist, or
indeed a churchman at all, so long as he is good and true.
What difference does it make whether a man be baptized in
river or washbowl, or not at all? Let's leave all that littleness,
and look higher." Then, thinking of nothing else, he slowly
sat down. A painful hush seized that crowded mass. Little
had they understood of what he said, for he spoke an un-
known tongue, save the last word about baptism; that they
knew, and they sat very still while the clock ticked. Then at
last a low suppressed snarl came from the Amen corner, and
an old bent man arose, walked over the seats, and climbed
straight up into the pulpit. He was wrinkled and black, with
scant gray and tufted hair; his voice and hands shook as with
palsy; but on his face lay the intense rapt look of the religious
fanatic. He seized the Bible with his rough, huge hands;
twice he raised it inarticulate, and then fairly burst into
words, with rude and awful eloquence.
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