A joy so blessed and divine,
That unto it is given

To fill with sweetest songs of praise
The palace courts of heaven.

There in that land the sweetest songs

Sung by the angel voices,

Are sung for their return o'er whom
God in His love rejoices.

He calls on sinners now to come,
The guiltiest ne'er spurning;
Receiving with a welcome giad
Each prodigal returning.

O seek His pardon, seek His grace;
He will reject you never,

But bless you with forgiveness now,
And with His love for ever.

R. R. THOM.

The Carpenter's Shed.

CHAPTER XI.

HRISTMAS morning arose bright and fair, and the sun was shining through the clear and frosty atmosphere, as Mrs. Mason, in the midst of her

four delighted boys, untied a brown-paper parcel, and found it to contain a Christmas pudding, sent to them by Mrs. Morrison's kind thought; for Mrs. Mason herself, in the absence of many pressing necessities of daily life, had not dared to use the few shillings given her by Mrs. Grainger only the day before for such an extravagance as this. So now well pleased she looked on as her boys testified their pleasure at the unexpected gift, and finally raised such a shout that not one of them heard a creaking footstep on the stairs, nor noticed a sudden pause outside the half-open door.

"I do hope father will come home in time to have some with us," was the mother's remark, when at length the

uproar had partially subsided; and once again she thought of the hour, twelve years ago that very Christmas-day, when together they had stood in the dimly-lighted church, and taken each other for better or for worse. For worse it

had often proved for her, but her woman's patience was not yet exhausted, and now she was hoping great things from her husband's more subdued behaviour during the last few days.

But the boys had not learnt as yet to associate much pleasure with their father's presence, and privately thinking they would enjoy the day far more if only he would keep away, the eldest changed the subject by producing another and a flatter package, and handing it to his mother with the few shy words: " Mother, we did want to get you some sort of a present to-day, but we thought after all you'd like nothing better than these."

"But what are they, Freddy?" she asked, and then began to undo the many wrappings and knotty pieces of string with which the boys had enveloped their gift, until finally her eyes fell upon four gaily-coloured pledge-cards, three of them signed in the round boyish writing she knew so well, and the fourth marked by the cross of her youngest child. Then say, was it any wonder that, at sight of such an unexpected Christmas gift, and with a keen remembrance of all the suffering she had gone through, the mother should there and then sit down in a chair and weep for very joy; ay, and was it any greater wonder that the father, still looking through the creak of the door, should prefer to turn back into the street below, rather than to meet the eye of his children at that particular hour.

Then for many and many a mile Jack Mason wandered to and fro alone; and the boys made merry over their Christmas repast, and the mother put aside a piece against the father's return, and still he did not care to face his home. At length, however, as the short afternoon was drawing to a close, and he stood in one of the recesses on London Bridge, so strangely free from the hurry and bustle

that characterise it on other days, a man drew near and touched him on the shoulder.

Jack Mason looked up quickly, fearing he knew not what, but the eyes that met his own were kind and brotherly, and there was a hearty ring in the voice that said, “Think I've seen you down at Mr. Morrison's; but haven't you a home to be in to-day? It's cold work standing about like this."

"Well, and if it is," was the gruff reply, " that's my lookout, I suppose; I didn't ask you to come and stand alongside, now did I?”

But Ned Hartley was not to be so easily shaken off; he had watched the miserable face for some time before venturing to speak, and the recollection of all he had been through himself helped him to understand why this man should shrink from the company of a stranger; so taking no notice of the little encouragement given, he began talking lightly and pleasantly of many things, until all the ice round Jack Mason's heart had melted away in the sunshine of his smile, and he turned to him with the unexpected words: "Look here now, I'm wanting some help. No, you needn't cast your eye on my rags, that's not the sort of help I mean. But I'm wanting to know if there's any chance of my becoming a decent and respectable man again. I daresay you know what kind I've been; and if you don't, you may guess the worst, and then you'll have hit somewhere near the mark. But mind you, I don't want no reproaches; all I want to know is just this, if there's any hope for such a man as me ?"

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Any hope!" For all answer to such an inquiry as that, Ned told the story of his life; a story he would fain have buried in silence, but here was a desponding fellow-man to whom its recital might do good, and Ned would not spare himself. Then afterwards he produced from between some leaves of a pocket-book three or four pressed primroseblossoms, and repeated the words Mrs. Grainger had said to him.

"I went home that night," continued Ned, "and the first thing my eyes lighted on was the story of the leper who said to Christ, 'Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean.' Well, I'd been out in the east, as I've told you already, and I'd seen some lepers there, and they were the most miserable objects that ever I'd come across. Sometimes when very bad, you know, their flesh seems to eat itself away, and they've no hands and no feet, and look most horribly wretched. Well now I said to myself that that leper who came to Christ must have been something of the same sort of man, and he was healed; and so I thought I might come to Him as well. For you see, I knew I was a leper in heart, though thank God I've scarcely had a day's illness in my life. So now, when any man asks me if there's any hope for him, I've only got to point to myself; the God who heard my prayer won't fail to listen to him as well.”

“That's all very good," was the half-trembling reply, “but yon don't know how much I've been to blame: wife and children kept at starvation's door, when they might have been so comfortable-like, whilst I've been reckless and wicked enough, God knows. Now you don't mean to tell me there's a chance for a man like I've been? Why, I couldn't tell you half I've done."

"Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,"" was Ned's earnest response; "then isn't that a rock broad

enough to hold us both ?"

"But everyone is a sinner, for the matter of that, and I may have gone too far."

"But there is hope for the worst."

"Then how am I to know that? I want something more than your bare word to go upon."

Ned thought a minute, then reverently repeated the words, "Come unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' 'He is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him.' 'Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.' Friend, you can't want a more sure word than that!"

A lengthened pause ensued; then Jack Mason asked in a husky voice, “But if I do come to Him as you say, what's to keep me from going back again? The struggle would be mighty hard."

"Yes, I know it would be,” was the quiet response ; "but there is One who is able to keep us from falling; and if we are all-weak, He is almighty to help. Save to the uttermost ;' those are the words, you know.”

Another long silence, and then Jack Mason held out his hand-the hand that had often struck at his patient wife,while now he said: “Look here; I call it good of you not being ashamed to be seen with such a shabby fellow as me, and I'd like to shake hands this once, and then—no offence —but I'd ask to be left alone."

Ned warmly shook the poor fellow's hand, then turned away homewards towards the cozy tea Mrs. Lee—no longer living in her lonely attic—had prepared for him; but the shadows had deepened very considerably before a second time that day Jack Mason climbed the stairs to the one room he called his home, and then it chilled him to the heart to hear the boys hush their merry laughter, and to see the anxious look on his wife's face as he slowly opened the door. Yet well did he know that each had had cause to dread his home-coming full many a time before; and so, without a word, he sat down to the table on which his wife had' quickly placed the plate kept warm for him through all the afternoon. But he could not eat; every mouthful threatened to choke him; and at last he found voice to say, using the Christian name not heard on his lips for many a long and weary month: "Susie, have you a bit of white paper?"

"Only this," returned the wondering wife, and she smoothed out one side of a grocer's bag.

“Ah well, that will do till to-morrow; and now give me one of the boys' pledges." And the astonished mother and children clustered round as the father slowly copied it out word for word, paused a minute on coming to the signature,