Spirit which accompanied it, produced in
many Regeneration, or a new life in Christ
Jesus, this following conviction of sin, after
which the new-born believer experienced the
joy that the world knoweth not of and which
endures forever. Compared with this heaven
born joy the pleasures and joys of this world
are as nothing.
We also heard that this life is but a pilgrim
age journey, and that the godly must expect
suffering and affliction, persecution and pri
vation; that while on this journey our Heaven
ly Father will guard, guide and richly bless
llis children and that when the pilgrimage was
ended the call would come to come up higher
unto the eternal mansions prepared by our
loving Saviour for llis purchased and beloveti
followers.
Heaven was a real place, preached about in
a powerful and compelling way, and the
tempted and tried child of Cod rejoiced over
the privilege while down here of sharing in
His Divine Master's sufferings, for the glories
of that eternal home of blessedness was surely
to be his everlasting portion.
The hour of death was pictured then as
the hour of triumph and deliverance, and we
listened for the very last words of the dying
saint as the very choicest utterances of our
beloved; for were they not passing into the
immediate presence of the lilessed Christ Him
self?
To those whose privilege it was to sit under
sueli preaching the so-called pleasures and al
lurements of this present world offered no
sort of enticement, for they had been laying
up treasure in heaven above, and their delight
and glorious inheritance was up there and not
here. They were drinking at the fountain of
God's providing, and feeding on the bread
from heaven, even upon Christ Himself.
No wonder that the spiritual was uppermost
in their thought and in their life; and prayer
was a habitual delight.
What do we find in regard to the greater
part of today's preaching?
In conclusion, may we call to mind our
Lord's message to Laodicea, and ask ourselves
the question : Are Ave perhaps in that dispen
sation? And remember at the same time our
Master's question, "When the Son of Man com
eth shall be find faith on the earth?" Why
did Laodicea need such a message, and why
did our Lord ask the latter question?
Charlottesville, Va.
A LIVING CHRIST.
Personally I have 110 more use for a dead
Christ than 1 have for a molten image. The
Christ who once did loving deeds and does
them no more, who once spoke words of com
fort but has been silent for centuries, means
nothing to me. It is the Christ whose fellow
ship I can share, that I want, the Christ who
in danger says now as once he said, "Fear not,
I am with thee," a Christ of whom we can
still say, "There stood by me this night one
whose I am, and whom I serve," a Christ who,
when we have done our best and all that re
mains is the consciousness of our own impo
tence, we realize is near us, that is the Christ I
want, and that is the Christ my faith today
acclaims. The "seeing him who is invisible"
is the awakening of our soul, the emerging pf
our efforts, the sustaining of our courage, and
that shall one day be the thousandfold reward
of our poor service, when we see him as he is,
and in complete fellowship shall be made in
his likeness. ? Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell.
A LIFE LONG DREAM
By James Anderson.
CHAPTER V.
The barking of the collie awoke Margaret
earlier next morning than usual. He was
frisking and gamboling and running excitedly
between the barn and the house. Margaret
peeped out and a saw a man brushing the
straw oil" his clothes and at the same time
playing with the dog. lie turned around and
Margaret rushed out, half-dressed, shouting,
"For mercy's sake, Bill, did ye drap frae the
clouds?" A vigorous hand-shaking, in which
four hands participated, demonstrated instinc
tively, practically, and in every other way, that
former differences were remembered no more.
In her excitement a volley of questions were
fired at him without giving him much time
to reply, but Margaret paused, and then Bill
had his innings.
"I loo's faither an' his new wife?" "IIoo's
Jeames an' the smidy?" "Wha's the new
precentor?" "Hoo's the choir gettin' on?"
"Hoo's?"
"Oh, Bill, ye winna lia'e heard that Gracie
Mills has been gey ill?"
"Sure, no, Margaret. It isna serious, is it?"
he asked, evincing some concern.
"It micht be. Tibbie's over there noo. She
lias been very attentive."
"What's like the maitter?" asked Bill, mop
ping his forehead.
"Naebody kens. She hasna been strong for
a twal-month, but aboot a month syne she be
cam' sae bad that the doctor in Cupar was
sent for. He made a few jaunts tae the hoose
an' said the case was peculiar an' he couldna
understan' it. Ye ken Hawthorn isna often
visited by the King o' Terrors, an' when His
Majestee daes come tae the toon it's tae bal
ance the books o' some ane wha has been bor
rowin' ower muckle frae the bank o' Time.
The doctor quoted Shakespeare the ither day
an' said, 'What can cure a mind diseased?'
He thinks there's something like brain trouble
threatened."
"Then the doctor thinks she's in danger?"
asked Bill, rising and reaching for his hat.
"Everybody daes. We had prayers i' the
kirk for 'er. Some wha ha'e seen her say that
she's sae low noo that the end eanna be far
off, unless the turn comes sune Hold on,
Hill, whaur are ye hurrying tae?"
"I'm gaen tae see Mrs. Mills aboot Grace.
I'll be back aifter a while," and Bill went off
at a run.
Grace was resting quietly, and Tibbie said
to J oan :
"Guess wha's in the sittin' room? The
best doctor in the warld for Grace, I'm think
in', has arrived. Oh. Joan, gae ben an' speak
tae him an' I'll wait here."
"What doctor is it, Tibbie?"
Tibbie put her mouth to Joan's ear and
whispered, "Bill Dawson." With a bound,
Mrs. Mills was in front of him, and, as if he
had been a long-lost lover, caught him around
the neck and laid her head upon his shoulder,
giving way to a torrent of tears.
After she became composed Bill asked if he
could see Gracie. Mrs. Mills replied, "Na, na.
She's ower ill tae see onybody. Bill, it's a
maitter o' life an' death for her. She has been
callin' for you in her delirium. Tell me, her
heartbroken mither, if ye care for her."
"Mrs. Mills, that's a' that brocht me back;
tliinkin' that me an' her micht mak up again."
Joan rushed back to the sick room intending
to communicate the good news to Tibbie, but
found her working with the patient. Iler
fever had increased, her face wore an expres
sion as if in pain and she was more restless
and nervous than she had been at any previous
stage of her illness. Had the proximity of the
two kindred spirits anything to do with her
disturbance?
"Gracie, darlin', is the pain in yer head
come back again?" asked the mother, but
the invalid made no reply.
"Wina ye teli me what's makin' ye sae un
comfortable?"
Grace said, "Tibbie, will yo pray for me?"
Tibbie dropped at once to her knees, but
"Gudc Lord; glide Lord," was all the length
she got when her full heart, sorrow and joy
competing for its occupancy, disabled her for
saying more.
Just then the doctor called and looked at the
patient, then went into the sitting room and
told Bill that her condition was critical. The
strain upon her heart had been so severe that
unless she got a natural sleep soon something
might snap.
After the doctor left the room Tibbie threw
herself by the bedside and, addressing Ilim who
alone can conquer Death, said, "Lord, ye can
dea it noo. I kent we could lippin tae ye.
Ye've sent him hame ; noo heal up the sair liert
an' mak a' thing richt." Bill was listening
intently outside the bedroom door, but Tibbie
remained kneeling so long after she had fin
ished, that Bill 's impatience mastered him, and
he entered unannounced into the i^oom. Mrs.
Mills saw him enter with alarm, aitd motion
ed him to withdraw, but her motions caused
Grace to turn her head. For the first time
since he left she uttered his name, whispering
softly, "Bill," then heaved a deep sigh.
"Gracie," said Bill tenderly, and drew near
to the bed.
"Come closer, still," said Grace. "Bill, 1
want ye tae forgi'e me. Will ye?"
For reply the strong man bent over, and
with tears running down his face, implanted
upon her lips his first kiss. The invalid's face
instantly brightened, joy sparkled from her
eyes, and with the words, "I'm sae tired,"
she fell back upon her pillow.
Thinking the end had come, the doctor was
summoned. He looked at his patient and
smiled.
The sun rose as usual next day. Grace slept
on. She liad had many sleeping potions, but
never one that accomplished such magic re
sults. Death's twin brother had defeated him.
It was afternoon when Grace opened her eyes
and gazed around the room in apparent won
der.
"Oh, Graeie, we'er sae glad ye've had that
fine lang sleep. Ye '11 get weel noo, dinna
fear," said her mother.
"Mither," she said.
"Yes, darlin'. Would ye like something?"
"Was it a dream? I thocht I was in heaven
last nicht an' met ? and' saw ? BILL!" the last
word addressed to the apparition which now
presented itself, for Bill Dawson, after hearing
her voice could not stay out of the sick cham
ber. After resting her eyes on his face for a
few seconds, sjie tremblingly said, "It wasna
a dream then, aifter a'."
"Ay lass," replied Bill, stammering with
emotion, "a ? life-lang ? dream."
The End.