his bearing and he has succumbed, let him implore mercy of the Almighty and he shall surely find it. Alas! how often do we find unforgiveness in men Forgetting the words of Christ, 'Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,' they turn their faces away and leave us abased in the dust, but Christ lifts us from that position of humiliation with comforting words, 'Arise poor sinner and thy sins be forgiven thee, for to this end did I come into the world.' If there is any one of you present who has sinned let him repent this night and he will find the peace of God which passeth all understanding. If he is weak, God will give him strength to conquer; if he is in despair, God will give him hope of pardon. Pray--pray unceasingly, for it is by prayer alone that our weak voices can reach the ear of the eternal Father_." Nestley waited to hear no more, but with a stifled cry of anguish fled from the church into the cold, white world outside. Stumbling over the tombstones, through the blinding snow--now falling in thick flakes--he soon found himself in the open street, and urged by some mad impulse, he knew not what, he sped wildly onward through the market-place, over the bridge and on to the trackless common. With clenched teeth and wild, staring eyes he made head against the storm that was sweeping along. His feet made no sound on the yielding snow and he glided along like an unquiet ghost, the burning words of the sermon ringing in his ears. He was in the lowest depths of despair and all men had turned their faces from him; he would call upon the Lord to help him--but would God attend?--surely He would--What were the words of the text? "_Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble and he saveth them out of their distresses_." He also would cry and the Lord would save him from the terrible agony he was enduring. He would kneel down there and then in the snow and call upon this unseen God, pavilioned in the terrible splendour of encircling clouds, to aid him. "_God! Help me!_" No answer save the whistling of the wind and the soft sound of the snow sweeping past, caressing his cold face with delicate touch. "_God! show me how to be saved_." Nothing, nothing, only the black sky above, the white earth below, and himself, between the two, a reckless, despairing man holding up his helpless hands. "_Our Father which art in heaven_----" How sweet those words sounded; he had surely heard them at his mother's knee--then he was an innocent child, but now! Oh God, the evil life he had lived since then! "_God! God!--pity and save!_"