The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1892-04-13

buuSuluy CHuIChJdIu' UAOhh, OhOAS
were gray tombstones shaded by plane
trees; the dark gray tower of the an
cient church was touched with the
quiet light Of the autumn morning;
yellow leaves fell here and there;
ground-ash dropped its long branches
over the soft turf. What a resting
place was this for tired eyes, weary Of
watching the ceaseless come and go OF
London crowdsl Olive stood spell
bound at the gate until her sight grew
dim with tears.
She was not thinking of herself only
as she stood there. She thought of the
many homeless wanderers who had
paused on this very spot, hardly able to
bear the throng of images that started
up around that peaceful sanctuary.
Gray walls and fresh grass and trees,
they make the background of memory's
holiest pictures. The phantoins of old
happy days went trooping along those
quiet paths and vanished within the
gloom Of the low-browed door; fathers
and mothers who had gone to rest long
ago in Gods acre; little children who
had grown up to be careworn men and
women; boys and girls who had loved
each other once with the fresh, un-
worldly love OF youth-these were the
shadows that passed slowly through
the green old churchyard every day.
The sorrows of one human heart are
the sorrows of all; the longings Of one
human soul after its lost paradise are
the longngs of all, and it is through
these common sorrows and common
longings that the lost sheep are brought
back to the fold and the wandering spir-
its are drawn softly home to God.
Ideas came to her very slowly that
day, and she had fingered for some
minutes by the gate before she realized
that this little gray church with the
quaint low belfry was the Savoy Chapel
Royal. In that old churchyard, and on
the ground now occupied by all the
neighboring buildings, the famous
Savoy palace had stood once; but Olive
was in no mood just then to recall his
torical associations. 1t was enough for
her to feel that she had suddenly
lighted on q nook that was completely
out of the world, and mot one man in
five hundred who iostle along the
noisy Strand ever dreams of its exist
ence."
The restful influence of the place
drew her within the open gate and
along the tree-shadowed path to the
chapel door. She went timidly down
the flight of stone steps that led to the
entrance, hearing the sweet thunder Of
the organ, and wondering whether she
might gain admission; but when the
threshold was crossed her last doubt
died away No disconsolate widow
with white cap and short temper
conducted the worshipers to their
seats-a pleasant-faced young verger in
black gown found places for all who
wanted them. And this was no easy
task, for the little chapel, even at this
questionable time of year, was full to
overilowing. NL
When Olive ventured to raise her
eyes, she received vivid impression OF
rich yet delicate colors; the red rose Of
Lancaster burned in the emblazoned
! panes of the chancel window; all the
lights that found their way into the
place were tinted with rainbow dyes.
But this chapel was not in the least
like any Of the great churches that she
had seen in London-it was, in fact, "a
single rectangular chamber" full of
glowing shadows and warm living sun
lights no mighty arches rose overhead
and were lost in mist, no massive
pillars stood out solemnly from the
gloom. Here was a cheerful sanctuary,
magnificent without pomp, reverent, but
not mysterious-a House Beautiful
where every tired pilgrim might find
"some softening CLEAN of love and
prayer"
The young girl, worn with perpetual
| heartache, seemed at last to breathe an
atmosphere Of repose. The old familiar
words OF the Liturgy, uttered in calm
voice, fell upon her soul like drops of
dew, and the music Of the hymns, full
of solemn appeal and sublime content,
lifted her out Of the iron cage Of her
sorrow .... n..H
When she looked up to the clergy
man who stood in the pulpit, and heard
that calm voice speaking the text, she
did not know that he had been minis
tering here for more than quarter Of
a century. She did not know that the
words spoken in this little chapel had
, gone out into the world and were treas
ured up in the minds Of thoughtful men
and women; she only knew that the
preacher seemed to her unknown and
yet we'll known" already she had
fallen under the magnetic spell Of his
strong personal influence; the voice, 80
distinct and intensely penetrating in its
quietness, found its way through all
the clouds and shadows that had gath
cred around her inner life. u
"Ye shall leave me alone; and yet ON not
alone, because the Father Is with me."-St.
John xvi. 30.
The loneliness OF Jesus Christ in His
life, in His sufferings and in His death,
is pattern and prophecy Of the soli-
tude which is touchingly characteristic
of all true, life. Eugene Bersier, the
eloquent preacher in Paris, rightly says
that there are two kinds Of solitude, an
outward and an inward, visible and
an invisible. When we are not seen, nor
heard, nor touched by anyone, we say
that we are alone. But it is not always
a complete isolation. The fisherman
does not feel alone on the ocean,
though he sees only the silent stars in
the firmament and hears only the
sound Of the moaning wind and the roll.
| i..a. ...a..an La L. 4l.i..l.l.o. "a Lin ...ilo