One Sunday in particular, he lingered behind the congregation and stood before me, with a new expression in his keen gray eye; and amid the silence of the deserted aisles he thus apostrophized me: 'Farewell, old friend! fashioned by these hands, thou representest Truth, the eternal.

What man is ever seeking, through me thou hast found.

Here I stand, not man's but God's noblest work, as yet not having repaid my Maker with one act of duty or of service.

Thou hast faithfully performed thy mission; henceforth I labor to perform mine.' With a grave and sad look my boy maker, now a young man, left me.

I felt then that we had looked our last upon each other in this place; but little did either of us dream of where, when, and how we would meet again.