The Zeit-Geist

lish. It was the breaking down of his father's clear mind that first started and shocked Bart into some strong emoti

d there, after a few days, he took to drinking harder than ever, ceased to write home, lost

ng of his returning self-consciousness like the face of an angel; there was the flame of enthusiasm in the eyes, a force of will ha

aints of all ages and find enthusiasm and righteousness in many and the degree of faith that the

m by the contact. The face and the hand belonged to a mission preacher, and Bart arose and followed his friend to a plac

emotion of maudlin sentiment when the great congregation sang a hymn. He sat upon a bench at the back and wept tears that even to himself had neither sense nor truth. Yet there was in them the stirring of something inarticulat

a certain definite offer of salvation, a certain bargain, whic

ld first threw off its contempt for the present earthly life and began to p

e ages also; yet this doctrine did not hide, it only limited, the saving power of God. "Believe," cried the preacher, "in a just God and a Saviour." So he preached Christ unto them, just as he suppose

living Power, the Power of Salvation. The salvation was conditioned, truly; but what did conditions matter to Bart! He would have cast himself into sea or fire to obtain the strength that he coveted. He eage

their sins and to walk in God's strength and righteousness, to go forward and kneel i

he hour to the power of seeking God with all his mind, all his thought, all his soul. The high tide of life in him made the ordeal terrible; he tott

y of prayer. He heard whispered cries and the sound of tears, the prayer of the publican, the tears of the Magdalene, and now and then there came a glad thanksgiving of overflowing joy. Toyner tried to repe

g his own trembling frame. The preacher had come to knee

Bart Toyner, "I

whispered t

I shall take t

preacher. "If you love the drink best, you ought not t

ea which had entered Toyner's soul, the i

id; "but it isn't any use, for I s

ng to keep you; all you have to do is to take Him for your Master, and He will come to you and make a

lieve it,"

nts all they need, and this man needs to have the craving for drink taken out of his body. He has come at Thy call, willing to be Thy slave; Thou canst not go back on Thy promises. We know Thou hast accepted him, because he has come to Thee. W

preacher. He too had risen and stood

on had already gone away; those that remained were each one so intense

ight," sa

out of you. You are free now because you are the slave

night they were close together. A change had come to Toyner. It was a miracle. The

he threw himself into such service as he believed to be acceptable to God and the condition upon which he held his health and his freedom. At the end of the week Toyner went home to face the old life again with no safe-guard but the new inward strength. No one there believed in his reformation. He had lost money for his father in his last debauch; the man who was virtually a partner would not trust him again. He had a nominal business of his own, an agency which he had heretofore neglected, and now he worked hard, living frugally, and for the first time in his li

being in society where he was not wanted and where he felt nothing congenial. There was a Scotch minister who, with the people of his congregation, had received and befriended the reformed man; but because of Toyner's desire to foll

s personal habits and constant companionship with the rough and the poor. The post of constable fell v

ldom perpetrated in Fentown, except when it was of a nature that could be winked at. Toyner had no uniform; he was put in possession of a pair of ha

uced him to accept it were various. The austere demand of law and the service of God were ver

n a mind that would not flinch before, or shirk the gleams of truth struck from, sharp contact of fact with fact as the days and hours knocked them together. For this reason it could not be that his path would remain that plain path