100 ROBERT DAWSON.

down, down in the broad way that ieaas to death !—
Arise and return!” These words of the preacher
broke with fearful distinctness upon my ear.

“What! is he speaking to me?” My heart beat
quickly. I leaned my head against the railing to con-
ceal my. face. It seemed as if I was marked, and that
all'eyes must be turned towards me. No: he neither
knew nor cared for me. “ Why should I think he
means me?” Then he spoke of broken Sabbaths ;
of bad companions ; the wine-cup ; the gaming-table ;
how gradually, yet surely, after Sabbath desecration,
steals on every bad habit. “Itis forme! It-is forme!
Can he know what I have been doing?” and I in-
voluntarily looked up to see who it was portraying my
case with such boldness. He was a stranger. It was
hard to hear it, but I heard the sermon through,—yes
every word of it.

On leaving church, I knew not where to go. . I did
not care to meet Mr. Simpson’s family, nor did I wish
to retire to my chamber if Tom was there. So I

-walked up and down the streets half an hour, until g
(