olish. It was the
breaking down of his father's clear mind that first started and shocked
Bart into some strong emotion of filial respect and love; then came
another agonising struggle on his part to free himself from his evil
habits. In this fit of sobriety he went a journey to the nearest city
upon his father's business, and there, after a few days, he took to
drinking harder than ever, ceased to write home, lost all the
possessions that he had taken with him, and sank deep down into the mire
of the place.

The first thing that he remembered in the awakening that followed was
the face of another man. It stood out in the nebulous gathering of his
returning self-consciousness like the face of an angel; there was the
flame of enthusiasm in the eyes, a force of will had chiselled handsome
features into tense lines; but in spite of that, or rather perhaps
because of it, it was a gentle, happy face.

It is happiness that is the culmination of sainthood. You may look
through the pictures of the saints of all ages and find enthusiasm and
righteousness in many and the degree of faith that these imply; but
where you find joy too, there has been the greatest faith, the greatest
saintliness.

Bart found himself clothed and fed; he felt the warm clasp of a human
hand in his, and some self-respect came back to him by the contact. The
face and the hand belonged to a mission preacher, and Bart arose and
followed his friend to a place where there was the sound of many feet
hurrying and a great concourse of people was gathered in a wood without
the town.

It was only with curiosity that Bart looked about him at the high trees
that stretched their green canopy above, at the people who ranged
themselves in a hollow of the wood--one of nature's theatres. Curiosity
passed into strong emotion of maudlin sentiment when the great
congregation sang a hymn. He sat upon a bench at the back and wept tears
that even to himself had neither sense nor truth. Yet there was in them
the stirring of something inarticulate, incomprehensible, like the
stirring that comes at spring-time in the heart of the seed that lies
below the ground. After that the voice of the preacher began to make its
way slowly through the dull, dark mind of the drunkard.

The preacher spoke of the wonderful love of God manifested in a certain
definite offer of salvation, a certain bargain, which, if closed with,
would bring heaven to the soul of every man.

The preacher be