'Sorrow had worn smooth all the harsh angles in his character, and made
him simple and affectionate as a little child. He had borne the cross
and worn the crown of thorns, and, purified by self-denial and
suffering, had found love a more powerful weapon than fear in bringing
souls to Christ. His calamities had endeared him to his people, and he
had become their pastor in the truest sense of the word.

'On the anniversary of the day when George and his mother died, Dr.
Leatrim holds a solemn fast, and excludes himself from every eye,
spending the long day in meditation and prayer.

'One fine summer evening last July, I was strolling through Westcliff
churchyard, and found the dear old man lying on the turf that covered
the remains of his wife and son. He called me to him.

'"This little hillock of green sod," he said, "contains all that was
once dearest to me on earth. My heart rebelled against God when my
treasures were taken from me; but the Judge of all the earth knew what
was best for my eternal peace. It was not until these idols were
shattered in the dust that I discovered that I was poor, and blind, and
naked, and not a righteous man, wiser and better than my neighbours. In
my deep sorrow and humiliation I was taught the knowledge of myself;
that I was still in my sins, a proud, unregenerated man. Yes; I can now
acknowledge with the deepest gratitude, that, heavy and maddening as
the blow was, it was necessary to bring me to God, and make me a true
Christian."

'I went up to the monument. It was a simple urn of white marble,
surrounded by beautiful flowering shrubs. The inscription that recorded
the untimely death of his son made me start, it was so painfully