It is much the same in those “respectable” congregations where no man knows his fellow, and a dignified isolation supplants all saintly communion. To the preacher, if he be the only living man in the company, the church affords very dreary society. His sermons fall on ears that hear them not aright. “Twas night, calm night, the moon was high; The dead men stood together. All stood together on the deck For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the moon did glitter.” Yes,
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