experience the agony of despair: “‘I was a stricken deer that left the herd Long since, with many an arrow deep infixed My panting sides were charged;’ and I rejoice to know that here there are those who can continue in the same words-- “‘There ’twas I met One who had himself Been hit by the archers, in his hands he bore And in his pierced side, their cruel wounds; With gentle force soliciting the darts, He drew them out, and heal’d, and bade me live.’ and, oh, my brethren, did you but know the fearful suffering, the hopeless anguish that follows a course of lost opportunities and despised mercies, you would not need that I should bid you flee! escape for your lives, tarry not in the cell, the plain fair and well watered, and like the garden of the Lord though it seem; escape to the mountain lest ye be consumed. ‘Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth, for I am God, and besides me there is none else.’” The face of the lonely stranger is hidden, but those who sit near him are turning round in wonder at the echoing sob which bore witness to the effect of these thrilling words upon his mind; but when the minister had closed his book, and the people united their voices in praise before the service ended, the weak low accents of that humble man were heard mingling among them, for he had found _hope_, even such hope and peace as the preacher of this day had proclaimed in yonder dim sick-chamber to its dying occupant; and this lowly man was he, raised as by a miracle at once from the gates of hell, and from the brink of the grave. With gentle sympathy did Halbert Melville, his work of mercy over, press the hand of that grateful man; with kindly anticipation of his unexpressed wish did he bring the children one by one before him, and they wondered in their happy youthfulness as the hand of that slender stooping figure trembled on each graceful head; and when the two little Marys hand in hand came smiling up Forsyth did not ask their names. He discovered too clearly the resemblance shining in the daughter, and scarce less distant in the niece of Mary Melville of old, and he murmured blessings upon them. He feared to hear the name which brought so many painful recollections in its sweet and pleasant sound.