and desirable than to feel any morning that before sunset I may be absent from the body and present with the Lord ?"

"Yours is, indeed, a most enviable state of mind, old friend."

"I do not see why every child of God should not feel as I do," said the old man. "What made me supremely happy all in a moment was the conviction that God was my dear Father in heaven, through his dear Son, and that He loved me with a love unspeakable. Whenever I have lost sight of this fact I have become unhappy, and could find no peace again until I took refuge in the thought that what his love once was it continued to be, notwithstanding all my weakness of faith; that He is the same yesterday, to-day, and for

ever.

In one short year, sir, He took from me nearly all my property; yes! nearly all. I was very sorry, and for a little while irritable. I could no longer help this Institution and that; I could only give pence where I had been accustomed to give pounds; but the cup of cold water given from a pure motive is not disregarded by Him. How thankful I should be that I have even a few pence to give away to those who are poorer than myself.”

The tender simplicity, the utter absence of self-consciousness with which he uttered these words, very deeply impressed me; but I ventured to hint, as delicately as I could, that for one in his circumstances he was doing more than was required of him.

"I shall not want," was the immediate response. "We have enough to keep us for a little while longer; and our conviction is that when it is all gone our Father will summon us both about the same time to the home where there is bread enough and to spare."

Three years later I talked with my old friend. Even in his old age another reverse of fortune had befallen him, and his little pittance had dwindled almost to nothing. He used to stand at his garden gate in a musing attitude, with his eyes looking heavenward. His wife would very frequently be seen, with a wasted hand on his arm, looking upwards too.

say to one after One morning I A little girl to

Their grief was that they were compelled to another, "Nothing to-day, nothing to-day !" saw them give vent to their feelings in tears. whom they had been kind came up to them with a basket on her arm. Please, sir," said the little child, "mother says will you take this? You were always very good to us."

66

"This" was only half a loaf and bit of butter in a cabbage leaf. The old man looked at the bright, cheerful young face, and burst into tears. Another man in his circumstances would perhaps have refused the gift, but it was not in his heart to do so. "Thank you, my dear," he said; "I shall always think of you and your good mother with gratitude."

The day came round when he no longer appeared at the garden gate; and it was known through the neighbourhood that he might never be seen there any more. There was scarcely a house which did not supply him with some little delicacy or other; no one passed by his window without thinking tenderly of the solemn mystery within the darkened room-the mortal being clothed with immortality.

"It's nearly all gone, sir," he whispered, faintly; "and I am going home! Could a man have had a happier death-bed? Suppose that I had died rich, would all my wealth have purchased for me the love and kindness which have been shown to me during the last few days? Betsy, my girl, it is only a little while, only a little while, and we shall be together in our Father's house, to go no more out for ever."

His aged wife, altogether forgetful of her own grief, did her utmost to sustain faith and hope in her dying husband by repeating over and over again the most precious promises of the word of God. As he lay on the bed calmly breathing his life away, and with the grand vision of eternity rising like a gorgeous sunrise upon his spirit, the thought of death was the last one that would have entered your mind; it was more like a translation than anything else.

Betsy," he said, tremulously, "read me my favourite psalm." With trembling lips she repeated from memory, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

"Have we wanted, my girl?"

"No; and I shall not want."

Then the silver cord was gently loosed; and the faithful servant, with old age for ever left behind, entered into the joy of his Lord. The widow lingered a few days, and was seen at the garden gate looking upwards, and as if listening to hear the tones of a well-loved voice; then she, too, was never seen there again. Her departure was as tranquil as the close of a summer's day; and while the turf was yet green on her husband's grave she rejoined him, not in the grave, but in the heaven to which he had ascended. Many said of them, "They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided."

God's Faithfulness.

"If we believe not, yet He abideth faithful: He cannot deny Himself."-2 Tim. ii. 13.

阿

DON'T believe things ever will be any better.
Tom gets worse and worse every week; and
I've given up all hope of ever seeing him
different now.'

As the poor woman spoke she gazed helplessly round the miserable room where she was sitting, and of which she felt positively ashamed as she looked at her neatly-dressed neighbour, who had come in to pay her a visit. “I am ashamed of the place," she said; "but I can't help it."

Oh, never mind the place," said her visitor, cheerfully. "It is nice and clean, if there is not much furniture in it, and by-and-bye, if your husband--"

"There, it's no good talking about that; I've hoped he would alter so many times that I've quite given it up now," hastily interrupted the poor despairing woman.

"But you have not given up praying for him, I hope, Mrs. Smith ?" said her visitor, in a tone of grave earnestness. Mrs. Smith coloured a little, and looked down. "I don't

see that it's much good praying when no answer can come she said, in a lower tone.

"No answer can come !" repeated her neighbour; "what do you mean? God can and does answer prayer by ways and means that we little think of."

But Mrs. Smith only shook her head more sadly, while the tears slowly filled her eyes. "I've prayed again and again that Tom would go with me to God's house on Sunday; but he's never done it yet, and he never will now."

"Why not? Have you asked him ?" inquired her visitor. "I haven't asked him very lately, for I knew it was of no use. He always went to the public-house; but now he's taken up a new habit, he goes bird-catching on Sunday; and that ain't the worst—he says he shall take our eldest boy with him next Sunday!" and, quite overcome at the thought of her child being led into the habit of sabbath-breaking, the poor woman burst into tears.

Her visitor scarcely knew what to say to comfort her, for she too had hoped and prayed that this man might be turned from his evil ways; but now it seemed indeed as though all hope was at an end, for these bird-catchers were the most lawless set of men in the neighbourhood. On Sunday morning they set off with their snares and cages to the woods or fields, returning home about dinner-time. After dinner they met again to discuss their success, and the remainder of the day was spent in drinking and quarrelling over the result.

"but

"I wish there were no birds !" sobbed poor Mrs. Smith, as she thought of her son being introduced to such scenes. "That is a foolish wish," returned her visitor; thinking of them reminds us of their Creator and our Father. He who cares for the sparrows knows every trial to which we are subjected, for He has told us that the very hairs of our head are numbered, and that we are 'of more value than many sparrows;' so we can take this fresh trial to Him, and ask his help. It may be through this very means of which we are so fearful that He intends to answer your prayers,"

Mrs. Smith listened to her visitor's words; but, as she said, it was hard to hope for anything now. They knelt down together, however, and prayed once more that God would turn the heart of this husband and father, that he might not lead his son to become as bad as himself.

When her visitor left, Mrs. Smith seemed to have taken a little courage to pray again, and when Sunday morning came she could not help hoping that something would happen to prevent her boy going out with his father. But, to her dismay, everything seemed as propitious as possible. It was a lovely morning, and her husband woke early, in spite of his late hours the night before.

"I must give up now; I cannot hope any longer," she said, as she stood at the window and watched her husband's departure with the bird-catching apparatus slung across his shoulder.

The little boy trotted at his side, pleased to be out with his father, but still half wishing he was going to school with his little sister. When they were about half a mile out of the town a young lady passed them with a bundle of tracts in her hand. She looked at the men with their cumbersome burdens on their backs, but their rough manners made her afraid to speak to them, but she contrived to slip two tracts into little Tom's hand. as he passed. The boy was afraid to let his father see he had taken them, for fear he should be told to throw them away, so he slipped them into his pocket, and with a nod of thanks to the lady trotted on towards the fields.

He was quite tired by the time they were reached. Seeing this, Smith announced to his companions that he should go no farther. They laughed, and tried to persuade him to go to the wood about a mile farther on; but, pointing to the boy, he said, "He's dead lame now, and we'll have to go back byand-bye. You go on, and we'll stop here till you come back ;" and as he spoke he put his cages on the grass, and began to unpack his nets and snares.

When their companions had gone everything seemed very quiet and still about the fields; and of course the two