to Reginald; who though his own life was as nearly blameless as that of erring man can ever be on earth. yet knew beyond the common how to make allowance for the misguided and the sinner.

It was remarked by some of the more observant of his parishioners, that though Mr. Baldwin neglected no one of the points of Faith which he had pledged himself to teach, both in public and private, to the whole, and to the sick; yet that the topic on which he dwelt most, and which he pressed with an earnestness and force shewing how much he felt it, was the doctrine of Repentance, even at the last hour, and from the deadliest sins; not that he encouraged any to trust to a future which might never be theirs, but that he would have none to despair, or misdoubt the fulness of that great doctrine, the Forgiveness of Sins. Sometimes those who hearkened could scarcely help fancying he had some especial person in his mind, when he was speaking, in a low, fervent, almost choking voice, of the Goodness and Power of God, to forgive even after years of sin. There was but one who knew certainly that he did think of one beyond the rest, and that that one was a brother-a brother whose hands were stained with a brother's blood.

Reginald never spoke of Jervis even to Islay, and the old man carefully avoided any allusion to a subject which he knew was as an open wound in his master's heart; but when at intervals he

saw Reginald's brow more than usually contracted with pain, and watched his light burning through long nights, which were spent in solemn, heart-wrung prayers, then he knew that some fresh tidings of Jervis's life of reckless sin had reached his brother, and that he was redoubling the only efforts he could make for the unworthy one-the effectual, fervent prayers of a righteous

man.

Hitherto they seemed unanswered. Jervis was advancing unchecked in his guilty course, which seemed to have arrived at its climax, when Reginald learned that, under a feigned name, he had committed an extensive forgery, and that a high reward was offered for his apprehension. Bitter was Reginald's grief, indeed, when this terrible intelligence reached him; but he ceased not to commend the unhappy man to God's Mercy; and the tears he shed were witnessed by no earthly eyes, save those of Champion, who licked his master's hand with a compassionating tenderness, as though he understood and shared his grief.

Although from that day Reginald was kept in a state of constant and harassing anxiety as to his brother's fate, he did not permit the smallest interruption in any of his parochial duties. Church Services, school hours, visiting the sick, even his wonted sermon-writing, were continued without pause; and if sometimes for a few moments his attention strayed to the mournful topic, which, giant-like, would fain have enthralled it

wholly, more vigorous and resolute efforts than before enabled him to gain the victory.

It was the winter season, and Reginald had just returned from a distant visit to a sick person far in the moorland on the south side of his parish. He had been summoned there the preceding night, at once to baptise the newly-born infant, and minister to the apparently dying mother; and had not left the house until those who understood the matter said that her hour of danger was past. Frequent night watching, and considerable bodily fatigue, added to constant mental anxiety, had told severely upon his strength; and as Reginald returned home about noon of this bitter December day, he felt more exhausted and depressed than usual. His pony, which had not passed a very luxurious night, seemed fagged and weary; a chilling wind from the north faced him, and all the country looked bleak and dismal beneath a cold leaden sky. Reginald pondered deeply on the greatness of his office, as he rode, and the solemn words, which he seemed to hear afresh in the impressive tones of the venerable Father in GOD who had ordained him, rose to his mind :— "Have always, therefore, printed in your remembrance, how great a treasure is committed to your charge. For they are the Sheep of Christ, which He bought with His Death, and for whom He shed His Blood. The Church and Congregation whom you must serve, is His Spouse and His body. And if it shall happen the same Church,

or any member thereof, to take any hurt or hindrance by reason of your negligence, ye know the greatness of the fault, and also the horrible punishment that will ensue. Wherefore consider with yourselves the end of your Ministry towards the children of GoD,-towards the Spouse and Body of Christ, and see that you never cease your labour, your care and diligence, until you have done all that lieth in you, according to your bounden duty, to bring all such as are, or shall be, committed to your charge, unto that agreement in the Faith and knowledge of God, and to that ripeness and perfectness of age in Christ, that there be no place left among you, either for error in religion, or for viciousness of life."

Reginald sighed as he thought how little his utmost efforts seemed to accomplish; how much both of error in religion, and of viciousness in life, there was on all sides, and deeply feeling that by no "other means "could he hope to " compass the doing of so mighty a work, pertaining to the salvation of man," his heart swelled with fresh prayer to the Blessed Trinity, that They would be ever present with him, and cause him to " wax riper and stronger in his ministry," teaching him to guide the wanderers back to the true Sheepfold, and one stray sheep, sorely stained and foul with, as he feared, unrepented sin, above all.

Islay and Beenie were accustomed to their

master's long absence on duty, and to his frequently over-fatigued appearance on return; but this time they were more than usually struck with his haggard, wan look, and whilst trying to establish Reginald comfortably beside a good fire, which he had prepared, Beenie meanwhile making ready some warm food, Islay could not resist intreating Mr. Redgie to take some care of himself, and not try his strength so severely. Reginald smiled, and spoke kindly to him, and felt somewhat cheered as he sat before the peat fire, one hand resting on Champion's head, and his eyes fixed on the sweet countenance of his mother's portrait, which hung before him. Islay was just about to bring in Reginald's meal, when a lad entered the vicarage kitchen, hot with running, although the day was a cold one, and he was scantily clothed.

"I'm come for't' parson," he exclaimed, as he entered. "He maun come reet awa' to Hurtlestanes wi' me!"

"You're a pretty fellow to [come that gate!" the old man answered, rather wroth at this interruption-" it's just what Mr. Reginald isn't going to do, I tell ye."

"Eh, but he maun come," the boy returned; "there's a man that's deein' there; he's goin' gay fast, and happen he'll be gone afore ever I gets back, and he's screechin' and skirlin for't' parson, as soon as ever he can win till him.”

"It's just a sin and a shame to rout Mr. Redgie