trust myself."

"Who can?" said Father Matthew; "it is not in yourself you are to place
confidence, but in God, who will support you, and grant you strength, if
you ask for it sincerely and humbly."

These words, uttered in tones of true Christian charity, gave comfort to
the doubting heart of the miserable creature, who said--

"I would wish to take the pledge, if I had money; but I doubt it's too
late--too late for me! Oh, if I thought it wasn't!"

"It's never too late to repent," replied the other, "or to return from
evil to good. If you feel your heart inclined to the right I course, do
not let want of money prevent you from pledging yourself to sobriety and
temperance."

"In God's name, then, I will take it," he replied; and immediately
repeated the simple words which constitute the necessary form.

"May God bless you," said Father Matthew, placing his hand on his head,
"and enable you to keep your promise!"

This man, our readers already guess, was Art Maguire.

Having thus taken the medal, and pledged himself to sobriety, and a
total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors, his first feeling was
very difficult to describe. Father Matthew's words, though few and
brief, had sunk deep into his heart, and penetrated his whole spirit.
He had been for many a long day the jest and jibe of all who knew him;
because they looked upon his recovery as a hopeless thing, and spoke to
him accordingly in a tone of contempt and scorn--a lesson to us that we
never should deal harshly with the miserable. Nor, however, he had been
addressed in accents of kindness, and in a voice that proclaimed an
interest in his welfare. This, as we said, added to the impressive
spirit that prevailed around, touched him, and he hurried home.

On reaching his almost empty house, he found Margaret and the children
there before him; she having come to see how the poor things fared--but
being quite ignorant of what had just taken place with regard to her
husband.

"Art," said she, with her usual affectionate manner; "you will want
something to eat; for if you're not hungry, your looks! belie you very
much. I have brought something for you and these creatures."

Art looked at her, then at their children, then at the utter desolation
of the house, and spreading his two hands over his face, he wept aloud.
This was repentance. Margaret in exceeding surprise, rose and approached
him:--

"Art dear," she said, "in the name of God, what's the ma