the passer-by, who, in all respects, resembled a very ordinary mortal. "That man," continued the visitor angrily, was once a pious Israelite and a teacher in yonder Jewish schools, but the missionaries entrapped him with their wiles, and he is now a follower of the accursed Nazarene."

This speech tended not a little to open Eliezer's eyes, but he was not yet satisfied; he determined to speak to this Protestant and to learn from his own lips what were the snares laid by the missionaries to catch their victims. He had heard them denounced as fools and ignorant, but what was his surprise when, on questioning the "apostate," the latter told him that they were versed not only in Old Testament history, but were also sound Talmudical and cabalistic scholars, and that some of their number were themselves actually converts from Judaism. Puffed up with pride and conceit, and secure of victory, Eliezer resolved to seek an interview with them. Much alarmed, his Jewish friends. endeavoured to dissuade him from running such a dangerous risk; he was headstrong,

and, despite all remonstrances, paid a visit to a well-known missionary. The latter received him kindly, and argued calmly and dispassionately with him. Eliezer had not counted on such an opponent, and, as the discussion proceeded, he waxed more and more wrathful, and tried by a large amount of bluster and superficial knowledge to overcome him. But the weapons he had at command were not proof against the sharp two-edged sword of God's Word, and, unwillingly, he was forced to own his mode of reasoning utterly fallacious.

For several weeks after this conversation he studiously avoided the missionaries, but his conscience was awakened and his imaginary peace of mind had fled. He strove to repress the convictions that perpetually forced themselves upon him, but, like a hideous nightmare, his past sins rose up before him, and all his fancied holiness and righteousness appeared as "filthy rags." He could not but perceive his lost, ruined, and undone condition, and yet he knew not how to act. To his Jewish friends he dared not unbosom

his trouble, and pride kept him away from the missionaries. But as time sped on and his convictions strengthened, whilst his anguish of spirit abated nothing, he decided to go to the latter. He told them of his heartburnings, of his growing scepticism with regard to the traditions of the rabbis, and begged to be instructed in the doctrines of Christianity. At their invitation he attended the daily Bible-classes and prayermeetings, and eagerly studied the Word of God, comparing the Old Testament with the New, and perceiving, as the eyes of his mind were gradually enlightened, how the prophecies, shadows, and types of the one were entirely and completely fulfilled in the great Anti-type of the other. Day by day, as his knowledge increased, he felt more and more the need of a Saviour; but for days, nay, even weeks, he was like a blind man groping aimlessly and unable to reach the helping hand extended to him. Despairing of sustaining the conflict longer, he finally, after a period of fearful inward struggles and combat with his spiritual foes, flung

himself with groans and entreaties at the foot of Christ's cross, and there, with tears of humble contrition and heartfelt sorrow, implored forgiveness. For some time his petitions remained unanswered, but at length a ray from the Spirit illumined his night of mental despair; the gracious Saviour had compassion on the broken-hearted suppliant, and gave him such a view of Himself as the Redeemer of all who come to Him in faith, that the prostrate mourner rose rejoicing from his dust and ashes. A child-like confidence, love, and hope, now animated him, and he gave himself up entirely to the guidance of his Saviour, and on the 18th of April, 18-, in the presence of numerous Jews and Christians he ratified the new covenant into which he had entered, by publicly professing his faith in Christianity and receiving the holy rite of baptism. To this convert, young in the kingdom of God, this day was a day of rejoicing and of victory; he fondly imagined that he had done with sin for ever, and that nothing but happiness now awaited him. Well was it for him that he

could not raise the veil of the future and see what lay before him!

Such a state of spiritual exaltation might not last long. In him, as in many other faithful followers of Christ, those words, spoken eighteen hundred years ago of Saul of Tarsus, were to be verified: "I will show him how great things he must suffer for My name's sake." All the agitation and excitement of the past few months had not been without effect on his physical frame, and hardly had he left the baptismal font ere he was laid low with a severe attack of typhus fever, which for six weeks threatened to bring him to the grave. But all fear of death was gone, and, had God willed it, he would gladly have departed" to be with Christ." Such, however, was not to be. Slowly be recovered, and as health and strength returned he felt that a duty, painful but imperative, must now be performed—namely, that of announcing to his friends and acquaintances in Russia the step which he had taken. Without delay he wrote to his family and father-in-law, and to his former instructors and colleagues, on