look-out for any loophole to save his own
purse; and had indeed been requested by Mr. Wynn to commit the pastor
to his hospitality when next he came round. Little of the cleric in
appearance or garb was about this man of God. A clear-headed, strongly
convictioned person, with his Bible for sole theologic library, and
a deep sense of the vast consequence of his message at his heart, he
dismounted from the sturdy Canadian horse which his own hands were
used to attend, and entered the emigrant's dwelling with apostolic
salutation--'Peace be to this house.'

'Very unlike our old-country ministers, my dear,' said gentle Mrs.
Wynn to her daughter; 'and I fear I never could get reconciled to that
blanket-coat and top-boots; but he's a good man--a _very_ good man, I am
sure. I found him speaking to Andy Callaghan in the kitchen about his
soul; and really Andy looked quite moved by his earnestness. It seems
he makes it a rule never to meet any person without speaking on the
subject: I must say I highly approve of that for a minister.'

What a strange congregation was gathered in Zack Bunting's large room
next noon! All sorts of faces, all sorts of clothes. Mrs. Zack and
Almeria in rainbow garments; the Davidsons in sensible homespun; the
Wynns in old-country garb, were prominent. News had gone far and near
that preaching was to be enjoyed that Sabbath at the 'Corner;' and from
daybreak it had made a stir along the roads. Ox-sleds, waggons, mounted
horses, came thither apace by every available path through the woods.
Old men and maidens, young men and matrons and children, crowded before
the preacher, as he spoke to them from the verse--'Peace be with all
them that love our Lord Jesus Christ _in sincerity_.'

Now an emphasis was laid on those last two words that might well make
hypocrites wince. And Zack Punting had been singing with considerable
fervour various hymns totally unsuited to his state of soul; as
proprietor of the meeting-place, it became him to set an example of
devotion--besides, was not religion a highly respectable thing? Among
other hymns had been that beautiful outpouring of individual faith and
love,--

Jesus, my all, to heaven is gone,
He whom I fix my hopes upon.'

All this had Zack sung unflinchingly, as though one syllable of it were
true for _him_!

The preacher dealt with the evil faithfully. He told his hearers that
the common words repeated continually and often thoughtlessly, 'Our
Lord Je