they were reported to have been poor but industrious people. His father died while he was but an infant and his mother a few years later. Even of my father himself I remember but little; for my seventh year had not been completed when he left our home; and, though we met occasionally, he did not return until the beginning of the year in which he died. Just five months after his return he was taken sick with what would now be called pneumonia, and in one week thereafter, on the twenty-third day of May, while I was absent at my place of employment, he passed away. What I had been in point of benefit for years I was now in fact-fatherless.

I do not know that my father had any religion. I learn from mother that he favored the Episcopalian form of faith and died in its profession. His long absence from home (about six years) had the effect of alienating the affection of his children, to a limited degree at least, so that his command and influence over them was not recognized by me as fully after his return as it might otherwise have been. With the circumstances that attended his leaving and long absence I never sought to become fully acquainted. Being too young to sense the seriousness of the matter at the time, I never made inquiry. nor have I ever done so to this day. I know he returned and died at home, and with his dying breath bore testimony to the faithfulness of the good wife he was leaving a widow, expressed sorrow that her goodness had not been fully rewarded by him and urged the children to honor and obey her.

These things I learned from the lips of friends who watched by his side when he closed his eyes in death.

Some time after his marriage he was thrice stricken with paralysis, which resulted in the loss of his hearing, and my memory does not recall a time when he could hear a sound of any kind distinctly. All communication with him was conducted by writing, except when he could detect the words uttered by the motion of the speaker's lips, at which he became quite expert.

He was for years engaged solely in the manufacture of shoe blacking and lucifer matches, his chances for success remaining quite fair until a large firm, backed by ample capital, entered the field and left

him without ability to compete in the market with its wares. He continued, however, to follow his business in a limited way as long as he lived, engaging at intervals in such other work as gave promise of remuneration to one in his condition. Afflicted as he was he was an object deserving sympathy, and as memory portrays him before me to-day, I wish I had loved him more, and that my boyhood history contained no record of impudent retort or stubborn resentment toward him; but it does, and that which my riper years and better sense condemns as having been wrong, (though I was but a child), may God in his tender compassion forgive. He was my father, and no mistake of his could ever justify an unfilial word in me. It would be consolation to me also could I know that he was now aware of my repentance.

My mother's maiden name was Ann Garbutt. She was born in Yorkshire, England, February 6th, 1831, but was brought by her parents, Joseph and Mary Ann Garbutt, to Canada when she was but three years of age. They settled in what was then known as Muddy York, but what is now known as the beautiful city of Toronto, situated upon the Toronto Bay (or harbor) of Lake Ontario. Her parents were poor; but by dint of economy and perseverance they succeeded in raising their quite large family to man and womanhood before the hand of death removed them. Of the family left when they died there were three sons and four daughters.

James, the oldest son, appears dimly before my mind as I saw him once in Toronto, and afterwards in Cincinnati, Ohio, but of his record I cannot speak from personal knowledge as of others. His death occurred some twenty or more years ago, neither the exact date nor the cause being known to me. The members of his family, at last account were in Cincinnati, where they probably still

remain.

Joseph, the second son, a man whose intellectual competency was such as to have fitted him to grace almost any important position, had opportunity or fortune even shown an inclination to smile upon him, lived during the greater part of his life in his native city; and many were the happy hours spent by the writer in company with him, in con

versation upon such themes as called out the results of his profound thought and extensive research. He was a good man, and under the writer's influence was led to unite with the Primitive Methodist church, where he remained in fellowship till 1882, when he too was taken hence by death's hand, leaving a widow and three sons. One of the sons remains in the home city, one is in the new state of Washington, and the other in Detroit, Michigan.

Benjamin C., the yougest son, was of a roving disposition and remained in one place no longer than was necessary to to wear off the novelty of its attractions. When in the city he always made his home with my mother, and this gave me excellent opportunity to get acquainted with him. He had a temper characteristic of the family, or at least all the members of it with whom I enjoyed intimate acquaintance. It was prolific in words, vehement in expression, and collapsed before it had well started, always followed by deep regrets, if aught of damage had been done to the feelings of another. He was as generous as he was jovial, and I used to think him the "jolliest man alive." Finding me to be a "chip off the Garbutt block," in point of mischief, he took a peculiar fancy to me, and I was generally found at his heels when it was possible to have me there.

In return for my child service in running short errands he gladdened my heart with many a penny, and took delight in making odd articles for my amusement. Only one real bad thing do I remember of him. The family cat had been guilty of some depredation in the room he occupied, and upon its discovery, he seized the unsuspecting feline by what he called its "narrative," and, going outside the door, whirled the poor thing around his head several times and then let go, hurling Tabby to the other end of the garden. As I stood watching that cat sail through the air, without fin or feather to propel her, I thought it would be safest for me not to make Uncle Ben mad while I was small and wingless, and I didn't.

He never married. In 1869 or 1870 he left Canada for California. He also left a blank in the writer's heart and life that long remained unfilled. Oh, how I secretly wished that I was big enough to go with him, for California had a

wonderfully fascinating sound in my ear after hearing him talk about it.

Ten years afterward-in 1879-when the Reorganized Church sent me as a missionary to the Rocky Mountain Mission, I gathered together several documents and letters recently received, determined on going to Carson City, Nevada, (where I learned he had located) before coming East again. My love for him was still alive, and I wanted him to see his nephew a man, and let him hear from that little boy's lips the story of the restored gospel; but in this I was greviously disappointed, for I had not been three months in Utab before the tidings reached me that Uncle Ben was dead. A stranger at Bodie, California, wrote and sent papers certifying to the fact, also forwarded his Bible to my mother. Mother then raised money and sent it to put a headstone over his grave. Whether it has been placed there or not I have not learned; but whether marked or unmarked, there is a spot of earth in Bodie that is dear to my thoughts and must ever remain so till the trumpet's blast shall call forth the sacred relics it entombs. By his merry spirit and generous hand many a gleam of sunlight was turned in upon my boy-life; and while memory holds its seat, 'twill always reserve a verdant spot for jolly Uncle Ben.

Rachel, the oldest daughter, married John Goodall, a thrifty farmer, residing near Toronto, but afterwards removed to the township of Garafrax, close to where the town of Bellwood is now located. There they settled on a tract of land and remained till their retirement recently from the toil and responsibility incident to farm life. The old farm is rented to their son Thomas, who is at present mayor of Bellwood. Another son, James, conducts a grain and cattle business in the same town, and one daughter, Dillie, is the wife of William Hamilton and resides somewhere Washington. The other remaining daughters, Rachel and Mary Ann, are happily married and located near their parents' present residence and close to the old homestead. Prosperity smiled upon the toil, patience, honesty, economy, and perseverence of my aunt and uncle, and they are to-day exempt from the necessity to work and worry. May they long continue to enjoy their well-earned rest

in

Martha, the next daughter, married a Mr. Spencer, with whom I never became acquainted and who afterwards died. Later, my aunt married a widower named Neil C. Love, one of the best men I ever knew, and to whom reference will be made further on. His business in Toronto was that of a chemist and druggist, in which he prospered and accumulated considerable wealth. He also held prominent positions in the city's gift, being alderman for fifteen years, also magistrate, and was frequently solicited to accept various honorable positions, but declined. Through the extremities of our early home life I frequently obtained views of his generous nature, and as years passed had opportunity to learn that he was one of the number whose history proves the correctness of the words of inspiration,-"The liberal soul shall be made fat." A man against whose record no word or hint of suspicion was ever heard; and when, with the suddenness characteristic of apoplectic attacks, his earthly career was terminated about two years ago, the immense city was in tears and mourned its irreparable loss, while the newspapers teemed with unstinted eloquence of the dead. A good man-a noble spirit went to the reward of its earth-service.

His widow and seven children remain, three of whom were the fruits of his former marriage. With a possible exception, all of these are in positions of honor and emolument, and, with wealth like a luxurious garden around them, they pass their years free from the cares incident to reverse conditions. To their pleasure and plenty the writer only hopes there may be added the richer possessions that strew the pathway of obedience to Christ and his gospel, the undimmed. realities of which stretch far beyond all mortal limitations and remain co-equal with the years of God.

Mary, the youngest daughter, married Mr. Wallace Millichamp, of Toronto, one of the shrewdest and most successful business men of that city, a man whose sole capital not many years ago was his remarkable business sagacity and indomitable will, by force of which he has earned a fortune for himself. He,

been connected with numerous public enterprises. His immense showcase and silver plating, also mantle and tile works are among the leading establishments of the country, to which he has added other branches of business. His success in wealth accumulation has been phenomenal. Still in the prime of life, his business energy shows no sign of abatement, and just where ambition's goal is by him located we may not surmise.

Quite a large family has been given to them, of whom four sons and two daughters are still living-all of the former occupying places of trust and profit, and promising to follow close upon the heels of their fortunate sire. The daughters are beautiful and promising, and they carry well the accomplishments with which wealth and refinement of spirit have so liberally endowed them. Could all of these but see and feel the splendor of God-life that is revealed in the ancient gospel as again committed to earth, how absolute would then become the completeness of their possessions. We wish for them no less of earth's, but more of heaven's wealth. May it be theirs to acquire eternal truth and reap its final glory.

The object of this brief reference to the standing and character of my immediate relatives may indistinctly appear as the reader continues his perusal of the life-story thus introduced. There is sometimes a measure of satisfaction to be drawn from comparisons such as permits me to make. As I grew up under the pressure of poverty's environments and looked out upon the condition and surroundings of the relatives referred to, whom I knew were free from the weights that held me down, I frequently indulged in soliloquies that were full of complaint, dissatisfaction, bitterness and even envy. But my ambition strengthened and my determination as a lad became fixed to become the peer of them all. I never lost sight of that resolution till the Gospel of the Son of God subdued me.

As I take a retrospect now I stop to thank God for interposing such events as deflected the current of my life-purpose, and changed my will. I still delight in reflecting upon those earlier days; but I look with different eyes and feelings than I once did. We look back, ofttimes,

from the higher plane of matured experience and see the effects of early contact with people and things; and the intolerable mysticism that hang around the awful Then finds ample and satisfactory explanation in the development of the great Now. How plain the lesson, but how slow are we to learn it. To-day will soon be to-morrow's yesterday, and, if the past keeps repeating itself, we shall, from the loftier plane of to-morrow, look back upon the severe conflict and apparently unnecessary inflictions of this hour and discover to our surprise that God's disciplinary programme comprehended all the hidden necessities of our character.

Let us be sure that our righteousness is of the kind that entitles to a place in his hand, then with an uncomplaining trust we may patiently toil and wait for the dawn of explanation day. "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." So said Jesus to Peter, and so the writer believes. If the little advances in knowledge and wisdom we

make here, justify such material changes in our judgment of the past, and if it be found that the crucible of earlier years contributed most liberally to the spiritual wealth of the present, may it not be believed that in the distant future, when it becomes the eternal now, the true saint will stand side by side with his "elder brother," and, from the supreme hights of the celestial hills, look back over the valley where his or her feet now bleed, and, in the clearer light of divine interpretation-see that the rocks of human extremity, which once seemed so barren and cold and cruel, were the spots where God stood closer than at other times and the soul from thence took on immortal fatness, while fed on manna fresh from heaven. Those times, those places, will then challenge higher estimate, and, as we scan the map of our mundane pilgrimage, I verily believe that whenever the eye shall fall upon those Gethsemanes we shall there dwell most lovingly and praise most fervently.

(To be Continued.)

As clouds that lower o'er our path

Do shield us from the sun's hot rays,
And save us from the stroke of death
Descending with its scorching rays,
So the dark hours and days of life
With untold benefits are rife.

As storms that purify the air,

Seem but the elements of wrathYet leave a balmy fragrance there

To cheer the heart and glad the earth; So will our woes and troubles end, Thus proving in disguise our friend. Infinite wisdom hides from view

The dreadful ordeal we must pass, Lest we should faint in going through The fire that is to cleanse from dross; His boundless love has thrown the veil O'er eyes and hearts that else would quail.

Ere long the veil will roll away,

No clouds of darkness intervene, And in that bright, resplendent day

We all shall see as we are seen; Then we shall know the kindly hand That led our fragile bark to land.

With songs of praise our hearts will swell, What themes of love inspire our tongues; In what glad numbers shall we tell

His love, to whom all praise belongs! We'll laud his name through endless day, When fleeting time has passed away.

Then, gentle maiden, cherish well

The boon that God to thee has givenProbation's hour on earth to dwell,

That thou mayst be prepared for heaven;
Improve thy moments as they fly,
Thy life is hid with God on high.

God grant thy days may be prolonged,
Until thy measure is complete,
And thou canst sing the victor's song,
With angels round the mercy seat;
May faith and hope and love combine
To make thy life a life divine.

CAN best illustrate my subject by calling your attention to the wonderful mechanism of a watch. Examine it and you are at once attracted by its appearance. Its size, shape, smoothness, elegance, in short no element of beauty is wanting. But were this its only features, your interest would soon lessen, and without something beyond this harmony of proportions, and elegance of design to enchain your attention, it would command but a passing notice.

But, when, upon a closer examination, you discover within this elegant casing here one wheel working with a rapid motion, there another wheel moving more slowly, and seeking for the cause of this apparent life your attention is directed to the wonderful mainspring moving and controlling all this motion in exact order and harmony, your interest is greatly enhanced, especially when you discover not only that in all this mechanism there is unity, but that all these diverse parts are working towards the accomplishment of the same purpose, the moving forward of those slender hands upon the dial plate, where figures mark correctly the flight of time. This delicately diamondstudded chronometer becomes to you then not alone a thing of beautiful proportions, but a marvel of mechanism and design.

Thus, when looking at nature, even to the most careless observer she presents much of marvel, much of beauty, yet how infinitely her beauties multiply, her marvels increase, the more she is contemplated and studied.

I shall endeavor to make this article simply a presentation of facts and truths, those gathered from the different fields which nature presents for our inspection, and where, amid the most numerous and wonderful diversities, we yet find perfect order, harmony, unity, and design.

Begining with vegetation, we find that plants exist in the parched desert, on the bare rocks, in the cold climate of the icy regions, or at the almost burning equator, on the tops of the mountains or at the bottom of the sea. In every part of the earth, and under apparently the most adverse circumstances, some forms of vegetation are found. It is estimated that there are over one hundred thousand different species of plants, and almost unnumbered varieties, which differ in size, from the microscopic lichen to the enormously spreading banyan of India; in form, from the creeping vine to the stately cedar; in qualities, from the feeble

endurance of the tender annual to the strong resistive power of the rugged oak.

They differ also in their qualities. Some are sweet, some bitter; some giving