he had believed, within. To be suddenly shown his error, smote him
with a painful sense of humiliation.

"What is the highest and noblest attribute of manhood?" Mr. Allison
had asked of him during their conversation.

Markland did not answer the question.

"The highest excellence--the greatest glory--the truest honour must
be in God," said the old man.

"All will admit that," returned Markland.

"Those, then, who are most like him, are most excellent--most
honourable."

"Yes."

"Love," continued Mr. Allison, "is the very essential nature of
God--not love of self, but love of creating and blessing others, out
of himself. Love of self is a monster; but love of others the
essential spirit of true manhood, and therefore its noblest
attribute."

Markland bowed his head, convicted in his own heart of having, all
his life long, been a self-worshipper; of having turned his eyes
away from the true type of all that was noble and excellent, and
striven to create something of his own that was excellent and
beautiful. But, alas! there was no life in the image; and already
its decaying elements were an offence in his nostrils,