Here the letter ended. Did the thought of his mother open the door of his aching heart to his mother's God and his mother's Christ? So let us hope. There is a mercy that is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear God, and a righteousness that is unto children's children to such as keep his covenant. Lying upon the letter was the following slip, cut from a newspaper. It was stained apparently with tears, and was probably the last thing that my friend read. It could hardly be the expression of any heart to whom the "hand of mercy" was not already "opening the wicket-gate:" "'Mid the fast-falling shadows, Weary and worn and late, A timid, doubting pilgrim, I reach the wicket-gate. Where crowds have stood before me I stand alone to-night, And in the deepening darkness Pray for one gleam of light. "From the foul sloughs and marshes I've gathered many a stain; I've heard old voices calling From far across the plain. Now, in my wretched weakness, Fearful and sad I wait, And every refuge fails me, Here at the wicket-gate. "And will the portals open To me who roamed so long Filthy and vile and burdened With this great weight of wrong? Hark! a glad voice of welcome Bids my wild fears abate. Look! for a hand of mercy Opens the wicket-gate. "On, to the palace Beautiful And the bright room called Peace! Down, to the silent river, Where thou shalt find release! Up, to the radiant city, Where shining ones await! On! for the way of glory Lies through the wicket-gate." DIFFICULTIES OF THE BIBLE. DIFFICULTIES OF THE BIBLE AS TESTED BY THE LAWS OF EVIDENCE.[1] [1] The substance of this essay was given as an address before the Bible Conference in Philadelphia in November, 1887. It has, however, been revised and considerably changed with reference to its present use.--T. S. C. One has to breathe but little of the atmosphere of popular thought to-day to find how full it is of religious doubt. Parental faiths count for little. The beliefs of childhood, the teachings of the sainted dead, the hopes that once brightened the darkness and mysteries and griefs of life with the light of a cloudless future, are to multitudes no more. "The eclipse of faith" has come, and souls are drifting out upon the starless, shoreless sea of unbelief. They see "the spring sun shining out of an empty heaven to light up a soulless earth." They take up the wail of despair: "We are all to be swept away in the final ruin of the earth." This is the deep, pathetic undertone of the sighing of a thousand hearts to-day.