had spoken to him, and encouraged him to seek full peace, pardon, and strength, then presented him to the bishop of the place, praying that, as a favour to himself, the youth might be specially instructed, watched over, and prepared for baptism. Noticed by that most venerable man-the man who had himself been loved by the Holy One-how was it possible, then, thought the lad, but that he should walk in those holy paths? And so had he begun!

But, alas! what a history lay between that day and the present! Hope, eagerness, kind teaching from the bishop of the place at first; then the solemn baptism in "the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost;" but after this, the finding that the eager desires of hot youth had not passed away. The banquet of the heathen, the garland-bound brows, the rich wine poured out, the merry songs to Dionysus or Aphrodite, the hunt in honour of great Artemis, the dance around the Midsummer fires, had not lost their charms; there had been a weariness of the tame life the Christians were leading, a wandering into forbidden paths; then a sharp rebuke from the bishop -a rebuke that fretted and drove him farther into wilfulness; then an excess that could not be overlooked; a ceasing even to show himself among the Christians; a sense that all was lost, an offence against the orderly laws of the heathen government, a hasty flight from the city, a meeting with the robbers, reckless despair making him the boldest of all, plunder, spoliation, murder perhaps. Oh, what could be in store for him-him for whom there could be no

second washing in baptism; him who had heard that there was a sin unto death, and that there were fallen men who could not be renewed unto repentance? Why should that terrible old man, that true Son of Thunder, have sought him out, save to reproach and overwhelm him with the threatenings of the anger he had but too well merited?

Nay, there are no thunders. The thunder has come from his own guilty conscience. It is the still small Voice that tells him, as it has told aching hearts ever since :

"And if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, JESUS CHRIST the Righteous, and He is the propitiation for our sins."

Who should tell of the Shepherd's love for His sheep like him who had leant on His bosom, who like Him had come forth into the wilderness for the lost sheep, and, in his strong faith, could well-nigh near the rejoicings of the angels at the tears that were bedewing his feet? He lifted the lost and found from the earth, gathered him into his arms, and especially grasped and kissed that blood-stained hand, for the sake of the good that he said it should yet do. Robber-helm and sword were cast away, the wild men stood awed, some touched, some ready to scoff, as their leader, holding the kindly hand that had been put forth to save him, meekly trod the path that led away from the wilderness back to the haunts of men. Long he sorrowed, long he wept and prayed, long was his probation, but one voice, one face, never let him sink again into despair; the hand that had

plucked him from the fire never relaxed its support, the prayer of the righteous man never ceased, and the repentant sinner was once more a partaker of the heavenly feast, never again to fall away.

The story above is the simple truth, save that a little description has been added to the short sentence of St. Clement of Alexandria, who tells us how St. John, after his return from his banishment at Patmos, thus reclaimed a fair and comely youth, whom he had noticed on one of his visitations, and committed to the bishop's charge for baptism. His fall had been owing to the neglect of the bishop, whom St. John had rebuked with the words, "Where is that pledge which I gave to thy keeping?"

It is also true that St. John wore the dress above described during divine service: and his love for his tame partridge has likewise been handed down to us by the loving recollection of his disciples, who would fain have believed that they should never lose the glorious old man.

He continued for many years longer at Ephesus, a very aged, feeble man, unable for any exertion, but witnessing still by his very presence to the wondrous years of the Divine Saviour's stay on earth. And as he was borne in a litter through the streets of Ephesus, he would ever and anon lift his hand when he saw members of his flock stand reverently by to watch him, and would murmur the watchword of his life: "Little children, love one another."

When at last his spirit departed and he went to be