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He was a cri else--but he was not a hardened cri to be different In the memory of his bitter experience a pure and honorable life now appeared as beautiful as it was i such a life, for pride, the cornerstone of his character, had given way, and he was too greatly discouraged at the time to purpose reform even in the future Without the spur and incentive of hope we become perfectly helpless in evil; therefore all doctrines and philosophies which tend to quench or limit hope, or which are bounded by the narrow horizon of tihts, dragging down the soul

At last, from sheer exhaustion, he threw himself on his couch, and fell into a troubled sleep, filled with broken and distorted visions of the scenes that had occupied his waking hours But he gradually became quieter, and it appeared in his dreahter until a distinct ray of light strea pathway an angel seerew so distinct and real that he started up and saw Mrs Arnot sitting in the doorway, quietly watching him Confused and oblivious of the past, he stepped forward to speak to her with the natural instinct of a gentleman Then the memory of all that had occurred rolled before him like a black torrent, and he shrank back to his couch and buried his face in his hands But when Mrs Arnot caently, but very gravely, "Egbert, since you would not come to me I have come to you," he felt that his vision was still true, and that God had sent his angel