aid the clergyman, "to whom I was talking last week is
now spending his first Sunday in that city bright."

A stillness passed over the room when the clergyman said this, and
Christie whispered to himself, "He means Master Treffy, I know he does."

"He was a poor sin-stained old man," the clergyman went on, "but he took
Jesus at His word, he came to the blood of Christ to be washed, and even
here he was made whiter than snow. And two nights ago the dear Lord sent
for the old man, and took him home. There was no sin-mark found on his
soul, so the gates were opened to him; and now in the snowy dress of
Christ's redeemed he stands, 'faultless and stainless, faultless and
stainless, safe in that happy home.'

"If I were to hear next Sunday," said the clergyman, "that any one of
you was dead, could I say the same of you? Whilst we are meeting here,
would you be in 'Home, sweet Home'? Are you indeed washed in the
precious blood of Christ? Have you indeed been forgiven? Have you indeed
come to Jesus?

"Oh! do answer this question in your own heart," said Mr. Wilton, in a
very earnest voice. "I do want to meet every one of you in 'Home, sweet
Home.' I think that when God takes me there I shall be looking out for
all of you, and oh! how I trust we shall all meet there,--all meet at
home!

"I cannot say more to-night," said the minister, "but my heart is very
full. God grant that each of you may now be washed in the blood of
Jesus, and even in this life be made whiter than snow, and then say with
a grateful heart, 'Lord, I will work for Thee, love Thee, serve Thee,
all I can:'--

'Till in the snowy dress
Of Thy redeemed I stand,
Faultless and stainless,
Faultless and stainless,
Safe in the happy land."

And then the service was over, and the congregation went away. But
Christie never moved from the bench on which he was sitting. His face
was buried in his hands, and he never looked up, even when the clergyman
laid his hand kindly on his shoulder.

"Oh!" he sobbed at last, "I want to go home; my mother's gone, and old
Treffy's gone, and I want to go too."

The clergyman took Christie's little brown hand in both of his, and
said, "Christie, poor little Christie, the Lord does not like to keep
you outside the gate; but He has work for you to do a little longer, and
then the gates will be opened, and home will be all the sweeter after
the dark time down here." And with other gentle and loving word