Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-09-02

position. was the moro solicitous be- cause have suffered all day from the onslaught of my constitutional enemy, the rash and crucial headache, which my mother gave me. It is moro than malady It is GfiicttOn! requiring pagan (ortitudo and Christian resignation. There is some occult connection between It and the course of the natural sun in the heavens. It seized me this morning with the rising of the god of day and left me at the going down of the same Mrs. Wayt will have it that it is the penalty for much study which, if not weariness to the flesh, occasionally re- vepges itself in neuralgia bangs. know no fatigue while the oracular rage of composition is upon me. Last night it possessed mel wrote the entire ser mon to which you listened this morning between the hours of half-past nine Sat l urday night and four o'clock this moru- ing. In all that time did not leave my desk. The thunderstorm wrought strange. glorious excitement in my brain. It was as if seven thunders ut | tered their voices to the ears of my spirit"
 The Rev. Mir. Wayt prodded holes in the turf with his cane while speaking, | holding it in his right hand almost at arms length, in a straight line from his l body. His face showed chalky-white in the moon rays, his brows and hair very black; his eyes glittered, the smile upon | his thin, wide-lipped mouth was appar- ent in the clearing radiance. He was disposed to be affably loquacious to the heir of rich parishioner, and the pas- tors influence with young men" was one of his specialties. This important member of an important class did not interrupt him, and the intent expression of his dgure-his back was to the moon was pleasantly provocative to con- tinued eloquence.
 ''The Sabbath has been superb-truly superbI" resumed the orator, pulling put the cane after an unusual atesian feat in iabbing 1t into the earth. 'l could think of nothing as looked out at daybreak upon the frightening face of Nature but Mrs. Barbauld's rose that's newly-washed by the shower.
 My spirit put on wings to meet the new morning. said, aloud, in a sort of di' vine transport: This is the day the Lord hath made. Let us rejoice and be glad in itl' "
 "Do you ever preach extemporaneous' Iy, Mir. Wayt?" asked March.
 The sentence passed his lips almost unawares. In his perplexity and dis dain, he spoke at random. He could not stand here all night, the victim of the
 modern Coleridge. He recollected
 while the flowing periods went over him
 that the Rev. Forey's admirers likeneC
 him to the long-winded poet. The gir
 of his heart in eSse and of his home |,
 posse might be Mir. Wayt's wife's sister
 but Mir. Wayt himself was an imposing liar and hypocrite who disgraced th' coat on his back. The sooner Kitty wa!
 removed from his house the better. H'
 credited poor Tony with more sense
 than he was reputed to possess, in tha
 he doubted, inferentially, his employer
 powers as an exorcist.
 , "Now and then. my dear sir, now ant ' theni But l long ago arrived at tn conclusion that natural fuency is
 lure to indolence. Whatever is wort
 the hearing should be worth carefu
 preparation. The UEce Uersd occurs t Q you, of course. I would give my audi h ence ripe matter, the slow accretion 0
 amber-clear thought, not the fervid eS |, udation of momentary excitement .s Every line of this mornings sermon wa
 written out in full The reporter of p New York paper took it from my han - as descended from tho pulpit. MI Waytr he said. That discourse ca A be printed without the alteration of word. It is perfectr
 7, The mans supreme egotism pushe .o March into indiscretion, which he afteI
 ward considered dishonorable.
 "You never use the typewriter, thenf .a "occasionally," carelessly. "I migt say. semi-occasionally. But not whe ,s ap, in the Spirit-ss l reverently D,