cious: they solaced the old man's heart; God beheld them full of prayers for the father she so loved, and He treas-` ured them in His bottle, to pour again in blessings on their heads. A long, hearty hurrah burst from the crowd, as Ethelda, leaning on her husband's arm, entered again the carriage. The bells gave forth their merry chime; all the guns that the villagers could procure were fired; and from every cottage were hung flags of varied hue; and across the street were suspended wreaths of summer flowers. As they reachlinks, over the ed the top of the village, they saw on the shed that prayer had sanctified, a long, high pole, from the top of which a large banner was streaming. One of Ethie's most precious remembrances of that morning had been a nosegay of sweet, dwarf roses, left by little Ellen M'Gee, and around it, printed by Peter, were the words "The Lord bless thee and keep thee.” A few weeks elapsed, and the birth-day of Mr. Alleyne dawned. The old man had entered his eightieth year. He expected to be surrounded by his children and grandchildren. Not one of them was missing. Harry looked brighter that day than he had done ever since the wedding. He had sadly missed the guiding hand of his beloved aunt, but he had learnt to cling more closely to his God. He was also discovering, that in his father he had a friend, who could enter, like Aunt Ethie, into his peculiar joys and sorrows, who could understand the thoughts of his imaginative mind, and the feelings of his sensitive heart. His mother was one who could not enter into the pursuits of a noisy, excitable boy of nine years old. She admired him, but she only sympathised with him, when she saw his gentle, tender play with the little Beatrice. Adah was still to remain at Harry's home, for she was very dear to old Mr. Alleyne. There was a gentle winningness in her way, a ready sympathy with his feelings, that knit his heart to her very closely. The school-children were on that day to have tea upon the lawn, and Rowland had arranged that the tea should be followed by a missionary meeting. It was a holy, happy gathering. The old man presided; the golden setting sun cast, ere the meeting was closed, its ray upon his fine bare forehead, and seemed to light it, as an earnest of the yet brighter crown of glory that awaited him when the helmet of the battle should be laid aside, and he receive the conqueror's welcome. Beside him stood his three sons, and son-in-law, and good Mr. Graham; and near him were his daughters, and Adah, and the pretty, fair-haired Beatrice. Harry had found a seat beside a spreading beech, and there the little fellow stayed and listened. His large blue eyes were fixed on each speaker, and his heart seemed to speak through them, his earnest desire to buckle on his armour, and to fight in his strongholds, the great enemy of the Lord Jehovah. It was after Uncle Rowland spoke that the gathering tear asserted the mastery, and Harry crept round the tree's giant trunk, and laid upon the ground and cried. Nor was it the eye of Harry only that was full of tears. Rowland had given utterance to the feelings of a heart overflowing with the desire that all men should be saved, and come to a knowledge of the truth. He had spoken with an earnestness, which carried power with its language. His clear, silvery voice, rang through the little assembly, and brought before them with living reality the curse of earth and the blessing of heaven. His appeal was strong for personal consecration of every soul before him to the service of their God and Saviour. "Little children," he urged, "the Lord hath need of you. Speak the gentle, loving word to those around you, and win them to the Saviour's service. You are Christ's enlisted soldiers, to fight under His banner against sin, the world, and the devil. Jesus loves his infant bands; will not they give now an earnest that they are devoted to Him? Young men and young women, the Lord hath need of you—yes, this is the time of our opportunity. Now we can render Him the choicest service. There is not a day to be lost! The young man may be cut off in his youth, and would it not be a glorious thing to be crowned in the midst of the struggle with the conqueror's wreath,—to find, in a moment, that the sword is wrested from our hands, that we may grasp the banner of victory? And old friends, dear old friends, life's longest days are but a moment compared to the length of eternity-but a moment of opportunity that can never be recalled-a point, whence the radii of a circle that knows no circumference go forth-the kernel, where the tree lives that shall never wither. The hours that yet remain must be few for you. Let them be given to Christ let them be spent as in the judgment-day you would wish they had been passed. Whilst life lasts, do what you can to spread salvation. In heaven, the opportunity you have now, shall have passed away." Hubert listened to Rowland's appeal, and on his knees, that night, he besought the Lord that he might henceforward follow Jesus,-that he might no longer lose opportunity, but press onward, not ashamed to carry the banner of the Cross of Christ. Thus another brother was seeking strength that he might look upward, and go onward,—that he also might "press toward the mark for the prize of his high calling of God in Christ Jesus." Time is shortening-eternity is nearing! Reader, art thou still dwelling in the vale, or treading only the mounts of earth? Nay, art not thou rather ascending the hill of Zion? Henceforward shall it not be thy greatest joy to raise thy eye upward, and behold the Friend of sinners watching thee, to quicken thy steps onward,-ever approaching the new Jerusalem, the city of the living God? CHAPTER XXXI. THE SUMMIT GAINED. "The world recedes-it disappears; Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears Lend, lend your wings-I mount! I fly! O Death, where is thy sting?"-POPE. AT breakfast-time the following morning, Salmon, the butler, came into the room, and with rather a serious face, addressing Rowland, said,— "Please, sir, Peter M'Gee is wishing to see you, and he is in a great haste." "I'll be with him immediately;" and, breaking off an interesting conversation with Sir Claude, Rowland hurried into his study. Peter's message was soon delivered. Fever had broken out at the huts, and his father and "sister Elleen" were laid down very ill. "Oh, sir," said Peter, "that sister there is a regular darlinth. I know not what I should do if the Lord should take her!" |