"'John Colby,' replied Mr. Webster, 'you have asked me a very important question, and one which should not be answered lightly. I intend to give you an answer, and one that is truthful, or I will not give you any. I hope that I am a Christian. I profess to be a Christian. But, while I say that, I wish to add--and I say it with shame and confusion of face--that I am not such a Christian as I wish I were. I have lived in the world, surrounded by its honors and its temptations, and I am afraid, John Colby, that I am not so good a Christian as I ought to be. I am afraid I have not your faith and your hopes; but still I hope and trust that I am a Christian, and that the same grace which has converted you and made you an heir of salvation will do the same for me. I trust it, and I also trust, John Colby--and it will not be long before our summons will come--that we shall meet in a better world, and meet those who have gone before us whom we knew, and who trusted in that same divine free grace. It will not be long. You cannot tell, John Colby, how much delight it gave me to hear of your conversion. The hearing of that is what has led me here to-day. I came here to see with my own eyes and hear with my own ears the story from a man that I know and remember so well. What a wicked man you used to be!' "'Oh, Daniel,' exclaimed John Colby, 'you don't remember how wicked I was, how ungrateful I was, how unthankful I was. I never thought of God; I never cared for God; I was worse than a heathen. Living in a Christian land with the light shining all around me and the blessings of Sabbath teachings everywhere about me, I was worse than a heathen until I was arrested by the grace of Christ and made to see my sinfulness and to hear the voice of my Saviour. Now I am only waiting to go home to him, and to meet your sainted sister, my poor wife. And I wish, Daniel, that you might be a prayerful Christian; and I trust you are. Daniel,' he added, with deep earnestness of voice, 'Will you pray with me?' "We knelt down, and Mr. Webster offered a most touching prayer. As soon as he had pronounced the 'Amen,' Mr. Colby followed in a most pathetic, stirring appeal to God. He prayed for the family, for me and for everybody. Then we rose, and he seemed to feel a serene happiness in having thus joined his spirit with that of Mr. Webster in prayer.... "The brothers-in-law took an affectionate leave of each other, and we left. Mr. Webster could hardly restrain his tears. When we got into the wagon, he began to moralize: