im, but laboured with him, and
encouraged him, and gave him the hope that though he could not save
himself, God could save him.

He tried to say a word about the night which they two passed together
beside his wife's coffin, but he broke down there, and went on to tell
how he went away to give himself a chance, because it had seemed to him
then, that if he should stay among his old companions and the daily
temptations of his life nothing could save him.

He did not tell his mother, and he did not write to her, because at
first he never knew what day his enemy might overcome him, and then she
would have had to put away hope and take up her old burden again.

But he had fallen into good hands over yonder in the States, and he had
much to tell of the kindness shown him there, and the Lord had stood by
him and helped him, as He would help all who came to Him in their need.

The people who heard all this were moved by it in a wonderful way. It
was like a miracle, they said to one another, that Mark Varney's lips
should be opened to speak as he was speaking. It was like life from the
dead to see him standing there, they said, as indeed it was.

"And you must excuse me for saying so much about myself, because that is
just what I came here to do. I was coming home soon, at any rate; but
when I saw in a newspaper a notice of this gathering in Finlay's Grove,
I thought it would be as good a time as any to come and show which side
I am on now. And if I can, I mean to get back my farm again. And if I
can't, why, I shall have to get another, and if God will let me help Him
to save two or three such as I was when our minister found me, I'll be
content with my work. I can't talk. I don't suppose I shall ever speak
from a platform again as long as I live, but I mean to help some poor
souls I know of up out of the pit.

"And I tell you, I'm glad to get home. I have only just seen mother a
minute and my little Mary. And I haven't seen Squire Holt yet to speak
to, nor the minister."

Then he turned his back on his audience, and a good many people thought
that was a lame ending to a good speech, but all did not think so. At
least it was good to see the old squire holding his hand, and to hear
him telling him that he had got to his right place at last. And it was
good to see how he and Mr Maxwell were shaking hands, and all the rest
of the people on the stand crowding round to have their turn. Indeed,
it seemed to be a ge