that seemed to lie nearest his heart. "They've all had s hand at me, Barton. There's twenty firms in this town that is willin' to give a feller sailin' orders, when they see he's out'ard bound. But I am an old salt-I know my owners!" said Tommy, with an affectionate wink at Barton. “Ah, my boy, you're back again; it's all right now. Don't you let me go wrong. I want you to tell me just where you're goin', and I'll bear right up for that port. You know, Barton, I never cheated you when you was a boy. I took care of ye, and never told you a lie in my life, and never got you in a scrape. You won't cheat an old man now, will ye?"

It was all that Barton could do to maintain his self-possession. Tears and smiles kept company on his face. "My dear old Tommy, we won't part company. We're both bound to the same land. God will, I fervently hope, for Christ's sake, forgive all our sins, and make us meet for everlasting life."

"Amen!" roared out the old man. "Go on. You really believe in it? Come here, Barton, sit down on the edge of the bed, look me in the face, and no flummery. Do you really believe that there's another world?”

"I do, Tommy, I believe it in my very soul."

"That's enough. I believe it too, jest as sartain as if a shipmate had told me about an island I'd never seen, but he had. Now, Barton, give me the bearin's of 't. D'ye believe that there's a Lord that helps a poor feller to it?" "I do. Christ loves me and you, and all of us. all who trust in Him."

He saves

"He don't stand on particulars then? He won't rip up all a feller's old faults, will He? Or how's that? Don't you ease up on me, Barton, just to please me, but tell me the hardest on 't. I believe every word you say."

Barton's own soul had traveled on the very road on which Tommy was now walking, and remembering his own experience, he repeated to Tommy these words: "" Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage? he retaineth not his anger for ever, because he delighteth in mercy. He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and Thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.'"-Micah vii. 18, 19.

"Now that's to the p'int, Barton. The Lord will tumble a feller's sins overboard like rubbish, or bilge-water and the like, when a ship is in the middle of the ocean? Well, it would puzzle a feller to find 'em agin after that. Is that all? I'm to report to Him?"

"Yes, Tommy; you are to report to God."

Barton, would ye jest as lief do me a little favor as not?" "What is it, Taft?"

Would ye mind sayin' a little prayer for me-it makes no difference, of course; but jest a line of introduction in a foreign port sometimes helps a feller amazingly."

Barton knelt by the bedside and prayed. Without reflecting at the moment on Uncle Tommy's particular wants, Barton was following in prayer the line of his own feelings, when suddenly he felt Tommy's finger gently poking his head. "I say, Barton, ain't you steerin' a p'int or two of the course? I don't seem to follow you." A few earnest, simple petitions followed, which Taft seemed to relish. "Lord, forgive Tommy Taft's sins! (Now you've hit it,' said the old man, softly.) Prepare him for Thy kingdom. (Yes, and Barton too!') May he feel Thy love, and trust his soul in Thy sacred keeping. ("Ah, ha! that's it; you're in the right spot now.') Give him peace while he lives. (No matter about that; the doctor'll give me ofium for that! go on.') And at his death, save his soul in Thy kingdom, for Christ's sake.

Amen."

"Amen. But didn't you coil it away rather too quick? Now, Barton, my boy, you've done a good thing. I've been waitin' for you all winter, and you didn't come a minit too soon. I'm tired now, but I want to say one thing. Barton, when I'm gone, you won't let the old woman suffer? She's had a pretty hard time of it with me. I knew you would. One thing more, Barton," said the old man, his voice sinking almost to a whisper, as if speaking a secret from the bottom of his soul," Barton, you know I never had much money. I never laid up any-couldn't. Now you won't let me come on to the town for a funeral-will ye? I should hate to be buried in a pine coffin, at town expense, and have folks laugh that didn't dare open their head to me when I was round town "

Barton could not forbear smiling as the old man, growing visibly feebler every hour, went on revealing traits which his sturdy pride had covered when he was in health.

"And, Barton, I wish you'd let the children come when I'm buried. They'll come, if you'll jest let 'em know. Always trust the children. And (pain here checked his utterance for a moment)-let's see, what was I saying? Oh, the children. I don't want nothin' said. But if you'd jest as lief let the children sing one of their hymns, I should relish it."

The color came suddenly to his cheek, and left as suddenly. He pressed his hand upon his heart, and leaned his head further over on his pillow, as if to wait till the pang passed. It seemed long. Barton rose and leaned over him. The old man opened his eyes, and with a look of ineffable longing whispered, "Kiss me."

A faint smile dwelt about his mouth; his face relaxed and seemed to express happiness in its rugged features. But the old man was not there. Without sound of wings or footfall, he had departed on his last journey.

THE CHRISTMAS CHIMES.

""Tis midnight's holy hour-and silence now
Is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er

The still and pulseless world "

But hark! upon the air what bells are pealing?
And through the silent streets what echoes stealing?
To wake the sleeper to a conscious feeling

'Tis Christmas morn, with all its blithesome cheer:
Christ's day-the happiest of the livelong year,
Christ's day-triumphant love defeating fear!
Ah! the countless stars of heaven sparkle when
This hour draws near, and angels cry again:

'Glory to God-on earth peace, good will toward men." And now I hear them pass my silent doors

The merry carolers-by twos and fours,

Singing the same sweet song which swells and soars

Until their notes with other singers blend,

While heavenward the chorus doth ascend:

"And every knee before Thy throne shall bend." Yet, hear the bells, how heartily they ring!

How joyously and happily they sing,
"The Christ is born-Hail, hail your king!"

TRUTH.

Clear ring the bells of fearless Truth;
As if their tongues would call, forsooth,
"I am the Way, the Truth, the Life!'
What! think ye, in your worldly strife,
That policy will make a way

Where principle's effulgent ray

Should shed abroad its flashing light
Nor cease to guide the pilgrim right?"

JUSTICE.

The brazen bells, deep-toned and loud,
Through foggy mist, and stormy cloud,
Call for the steward to report;

To stand before his Judge in court;
To there hand in the Lord's amount,
And certify to his account;
But should he trembling, fainting fail,
Blind Justice drops him from her scale.

MERCY.

Thank God! the bells of Mercy ring:
"O sinner! hold! to thee we bring
Salvation free-for Christ is born;
This is his glorious birthday morn!
He's knocking at your door to-day,
And will ye sullen turn away?"
Ring out! ye bells of Mercy ring!
Immanuel, Saviour, Lord and King!

FAITH.

The bells of Faith strike clear and strong;
There's not a note among them wrong!
"The evidence of things unseen "9
Has left a path forever green;

A road o'er which our fathers trod,

And proved, by works, their faith in God.
Now all with thankful hearts may sing,
"Simply to Thy cross I cling."

HOPE.

The bells of Hope, with anchor crest,
Are by each doubting sinner blest;

Their cheering tones to many ears
Allay the pain of puzzling fears;
But as each bell in turn is rung

It points above to where are hung
The bells of Faith :-"O sinner! there
The publican smote his breast in prayer!"

CHARITY.

The silver bells of Charity

O bells of greatest rarity!

Of sisters three thou art the chief;
To Pain and Sorrow, Death and Grief,
A welcome friend: thy voice is sweet,
And cheers our homeward erring feet;
While angels cry, with one accord,
"Well done! Thou faithful of the Lord!"

ALL THE BELLS.

"Go in! Go in! Go in!

Go search thy heart to-day, And in thy closet dim

Pray to the babe that lay

In the manger, by the beast,
In the star-lit, golden East.

Go out! Go out! Go out!
Go find the poor to-day;
With light hearts search about-
Tell them of the babe that lay
In the manger, by the beast,
In the star-lit, golden East.

Go up! Go up! Go up!

Go, deck the Christmas tree!
Think how he drained the cup,
Think how he died for thee,
Think of the babe that lay
In the manger, by the beast,
In the star-lit, golden East.

Go down! Go down! Go down!
Search for the vile to-day;
Seek the prisoners of the town,
Tell them of the babe that lay
In the manger, by the beast,
In the star-lit, golden East."

Where'er you are, whate'er you do,
The Christmas Chimes ring out for you.

ZZZZZ