This anchor shall my soul sustain,
When earth's foundations melt away.
Mercy's full power I then shall prove,
Loved with an everlasting love.'

'I would gladly help you, Mrs. Knill, if you were in that state of mind that I should like to see you in at this solemn time. It will help you if you call to remembrance your worst sins; pick them out, go over the worst of them,' said the clergyman, and took his departure.

'That'z tho wa' tho parzon doez,' said Jimmy Templer, on hearing what advice he had given the dying woman. "'E'd zcreen 'em, 'z'poze, an' a'ter al' tho zmal' unz war done, 'e'd ax tho Lord to pardon tho beg unz. W'at! do o thenk any body livin' can 'member an' count al' thar beg zins tha' 'av’ committed? 'E 'ood mek it 'ard work vor a perzon to come to tho blezzed Zaviour-that o 'ood. tho publican do that, I wonder? No, o didn't. O ztood an' zmote on his breazt, not zoo much as liftin' 'iz eyez to 'eaven, an' zed, "God be marzivul to me a zinner." 'Iz, vriends, breng 'em to tho Lord Jazus in a lump.

""Zee al' yo'r zins on Jazus laid:

Tho Lamb ov God waz zlain,
Hiz zoul waz onz an ovverin' made

Vor every zoul ov man.'

Did

It was on a Sunday evening when Carry Knill was loosed from the burden of the flesh, and entered into rest. Friends had watched some hours by her side as she lay dying, sometimes dozing for a few minutes. About five o'clock in the evening, she opened her eyes, and asked if 'tho Mizzion Band would come that night. When she was told

they would, 'I want to 'ire 'em zeng,' she said. 'Tell 'em to zeng,

""Vor ever we' tho Lord.' '

The members of the Band soon made their appearance. Rachel bade them stand at a little distance from the cottage, and, telling them the dying woman's request, went back to the side of the bed. It was a beautiful evening in the early spring. The few men and women composing the Band sang:

""For ever with the Lord!"

Amen! so let it be !

Life from the dead is in that word,
'Tis immortality.

'Ah! then my spirit faints

To reach the land I love,

The bright inheritance of saints,
Jerusalem above!'

The singing ceased. The dying woman beckoned to her husband. Tom,' she said, 'I'm gwaingwain to be vor ever we' tho Lord. Meet me thar. Tek kere ov tho chil'ren.' We heard no more. Carry Knill, the first-fruit of the Mission Band, had gone home to be 'for ever with the Lord.'

I

HAD been painfully exercised in my mind for many months. Again and again I had determined to mention the cause of my anxiety to my friend; but when the opportunity presented itself, my courage failed and I dismissed it. But it would come back; and it was a subject that closely concerned my most intimate friend. I thought more of Charles Garfield than of any other man in existence; and had I not reason to think highly of him? With a father's care and tenderness he had studied my welfare; his books and a great deal of his time I could command. I can never pay the debt of gratitude I owe him.

For a working man, Charles Garfield was the most cultured I have ever met; his intellect was keen, and his powers of conversation beyond most men's. As a preacher he was sought after; the Gospel from his lips was fresh, and delivered in such a way that it reached and stirred the depths of men's souls. As a leader, he was loved and trusted; the members of his large class testified

to his worth. The thoroughly consistent and godly life of the man, coupled with his more than ordinary abilities, made him a power in our church and neighbourhood. To know him was to love him.

I have said my friend was thoroughly consistent, but I find that remark needs qualifying. He was not a believer in total abstinence; had he believed in it, he was honest enough to abstain. In what, then, did the inconsistency of the man consist? Not so much in his action as in his creed. As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.' It has been said repeatedly, the man is better than his creed. Who can prove it? The stream cannot rise higher than the fountain. A man's conduct is regulated by what he believes to a very great extent.

The words of the great bard of Stratford-onAvon often came into my mind in those days:

'He's no man on whom perfection waits,

That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.'

Not that Charles Garfield attended public-houses on any pretence whatever, or indulged in intoxicating beverages. Not a whisper was ever heard that the man overstepped the mark; but he thought total abstinence did not belong to religion; it was ' good enough in its place, but don't mix it up with religion,' he would say.

It was a subject on which he was very reticent, and never spoke on it unless urged to do so. And he was honest enough to admit that it was a good thing for Henry Russel, Thomas Knill, and some others, to do without liquor; but I do not think he liked the pledge-book to be kept in the vestry.

Sometimes the friends would point out to him the power of example. Would he not abstain for

his brother's sake? Had he never lost members out of his class owing to drink? Yes, he had; but his example had had nothing to do with their leaving. Did he not think that his influence was lessened with those parties, or with those parties' friends, because he was known to take his glass? He did not think so.

Charles Garfield was about to receive a blow that would make him think otherwise, and ever after to view the subject in its bearing on the religious welfare of men and women.

One Sunday morning, in reading over the names on his class-book, he found a mark against the name of one whose presence and experience had often gladdened his heart. There were two A's, and he was obliged to mark a third. Could any one tell him what had become of brother Miscome?' 'Yes,' said one of the brethren, 'his old enemy has thrown him down.' No more was said; but no sooner was the meeting closed than the leader went in search of the absent member.

On entering the man's cottage, he said, 'I am come to see how you are getting on, and to know your reason for not attending class for some weeks past.'

'You ben't tho right man to come to zee my 'uzban',' said his wife; 'do want a divverent perzon to yo', Charlez Garvield, to ta'k to my 'uzban'. Yo' muzt zend a man that don't touch tho drenk.'

'Very well,' said Charles Garfield, and left the house. He soon found a good brother who was known to be a Temperance man, and sent him.

The blow was a hard one, but it was required; and from that time he threw his influence in with the people who view religion and temper