Year: 1867

Beecher, in his new novel thus delincates the
character of a laughing Deacon. Some genuine
model doubtless sits for the portrait:


How they ever made a deacon out of
Jerry Marble never could imagined His
was the kindest heart that bubblCd and
run over. He was tough, elastic, inces-
sanity active, and prodigious worker
lie seemed never to tire, but after the
longest days toll he sprang up the mo-
ment he had done with work, as if he
were a fine steel spring. A few hours
sleep sufficed him, and he saw the morn
ing stars the year round. His weazened
face was leather color, but forever dimp-
ling and changing to keep some sort of
congruity between itself and his eyes,
that winkcd and blinked and split all
over with merry good nature. lie al
ways seemed afflicted wien obliged tc
keep sober. He had been known to
laugh i'll meeting on several occasions,
although he ran his face behind his hand
kcrchict and coughed, as if that was the
matter, yet nobody believed it. Once,
Oh hot summer day, he saw Deacon
Trow wbridgc-a sober and fat man Of
great sobricty gradually ascending from
the bodily state into that spiritual con-
ditfon entitled sleep. lie was blamelcss
of. the act. He had struggled against
the temptation with the whole virtue of
a deacon. He had eaten two or three
heads of fennel in vain, and a piece Of
orange peel. lie had stirred himself up
and fixed his eyes OH the minister with
intense tirmness, only to have them grow
gradually narrower and milder. If he
held his head up firmly, it would, with Il
sudden lapse, fall away over backward.
If he leaned it little forward, it would
drop suddenly on his bosom. At each
nod, recovering himself he would nod
again, with his eyes wide open, to i'm
press upon the boys that he did 1t on
purpose at both times.


In what other painful events of life has
a good man so little sympathy as when
overcome with sleep in meeting time p
Against the insidious seduction he arrays
every conceivable resistance. He stands
up a while; he pinches himself or pricks
himselfwith pins. lie looks up helpless
" to the pulpit, rs if succor might posi-
bly come from thence. He crosses his
legs uncomfortably, and attempts to re-
cite catechism or the multiplication table.


He seizes languid fan, which treach-
erously leaves him in a calm. lie tries
to reason, to notice the phenomena. On,
that one could carry his pew to bed with
him! What tossing wakefulness +! what
fiery chase after somnolency In his
lawful bed man cannot sleep, and III his
pew he cannot keep awake! Happy
man who does not sleep in church De;.-
con Trowbridge was not that man, Dea-
con Marble was.


Deacon Marble witnessed the conflict
we have sketched above, and when good
Mr.. Trowbridge gave his next lurch, re-
covering himself with snort, and then
drew out red handkerchief and blew his
nose with loud animation, as if let
the boys know that he had not been
asleep, poor Deacon was brought to sore
strait. But | have reason to think that
he would have weathered the stress if it
had not been for sweet faced little boy
in front of the gallery. The lad had
been iLnocertly watching the same scene,
and at its climax laughed out and then
suddenly disappeared into his mothers
lap. That laugh was just too much,
and Deacon Marble could no more help
laughing than could Deacon Trowbr1dge
help sleeping. Nor could he conceal it.
Though he coughed, and put up his hand
kerchief and hemmed-it was laugh,
deacon land everybody in the house
knew it, and liked you better fer it-so
inexperienced were they.