ee the favourable
contrast--shame and misery, but never despair; that one word had gone
out of his life.

One day a visitor came hurrying down the street to Toyner's home. The
stranger had the face of a saint, and the hasty feet of those who are
conscious that they bear tidings of great joy. It was Toyner's friend,
the preacher. Bart had often written to him, and he to his convert. Of
late the letters had been fraught with pain to both, but this was the
first time that the preacher had found himself able to come a long
journey since he had heard of Toyner's fall. He came, his heart big with
the prayer of faith that what he had done once he might be permitted to
do again--lead this man once more into the humble path of a
time-honoured creed and certain self-conquest. To the preacher the two
were one and indivisible.

When this life is passed away, shall we see that our prayers for others
have been answered most lavishly by the very contradiction of what we
have desired?

The visit was well timed. Bart Toyner's father lay dying; and in spite
of that, or rather in consequence of nights of watching and the
necessary handling of stimulants, Bart sat in his own room, only just
returned to soberness after a drunken night. With face buried in his
hands, and a heart that was breaking with sorrow, Bart was sitting
alone; and then the preacher came in.

The preacher sat beside him, and put his arm around him. The preacher
was a man whose embrace no man could shrink from, for the physical part
of him was as nothing compared with the love and strength of its
animating soul.

"Our Lord sends a message to you: 'All things are possible to him that
believeth.'" The preacher spoke with quiet strength. "_You_ know, dear
brother, that this word of His is certainly true."

"Yes, yes, I know it. By the hour in which I first saw you I know it;
but I cannot take hold of it again in the same way. My faith wavers."

"Your faith wavers?" The preacher spoke questioningly. "My brother,
faith in itself is nothing; it is only the hand that takes; it is the
Saviour in whom we believe who has the power. You have turned away from
Him. It is not that your faith wavers, but that you are walking straight
forward on the road of infidelity, and on that path you will never find
a God to help, but only a devil to devour."

Toyner shivered even within the clasp of the encircling arm. "I had
tried to tell you in writing that the Saviour you follow is m