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said, still keeping his eyes closed, "which came from the hands of the Creator in a state of perfection and loveliness—a world of spotless purity, a world where all was peace and love, and joy and satisfaction—a heaven of bliss and of ecstasy. A dark shadow crept over it—the shadow

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of sin—which was soon followed by the darker and more awful shadow of death. Its women were subjected to a life of suffering and sorrow, a life of bondage and tyranny; its men to a life of slavery. The whole creation began to groan and travail in pai

n. Life was not worth living nor death worth dying, until a Light from heaven shone through the darkness, dispelling the gloom, bringing salvation to sorrowing, sin-burdened souls and hope of complete redemption, when the body shall be raised incorruptible, when the briars and thorns shall disappear, and even the animals shall be emancipated from the bondage and cruelty of man. "It was the Christ who turned darkness into light. It was the Christ who brought life out of death. It was the Christ who lifted woman from the de

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pths of degradation and placed her in a realm of love and hope. It was the Christ who gave the weary toiler rest. "Have we not cause to bless God for 'His inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ?' "That is Presbyteria

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nism," said Mrs. MacKay. "And that is Episcopalianism," replied the rector. "We recognize the Christ as the head of the Church," said the Laird. "And so do we," said the rector, "and if I had the naming of ten thousand churches, sir, I would call ea

ch one 'Christ church,' and I would have a cross on each somewhere to remind the people of the fact that He left the heaven of glory to suffer and die for them, that He might bring them into the fulness of joy which He originally designed for them." "You surprise me," said the Laird, "for I had come to regard the Established Church of England as dead in formalism. I have not found so great faith before—no, not in the Church of England." "Then you had better become a little more intimately acquainted with it," good-naturedly rejoined the young rector, and the conversation turned into other topics. CHAPTER XXII. CHAPTER XXII. LIGHT AT EVENTIDE. 1839. Spring had come. The aged Chief, who had passed the seventy-ninth anniversary of his birth, sat propped up with pillows gazing at the swollen torrent, with its seething, tumbling mass of white foam, as it rushed with resistless power into the big cauldron below. Through the half-open window the fragrance of blossoming fruit-trees found its way into the room. From the eastern window he could see the smoke rising from his innumerable factories and mills; through the southern one

the vision of a world," he
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