mongers clubbed together, and gave food to the wife and family. The man recovered, but the fever left him so weak that he could no longer drive a barrow by hand. This deficiency they likewise met, for they clubbed together again, and presented him with a donkey, cart, and stock!" Another Reader tells us of a case in which, when the husband died, a meeting of the whole fraternity was called at the "Digby Arms," when a very handsome collection was made, sufficient not only to pay all the expenses of the funeral, but also to set up the widow with a little fruit-stall. "I have commenced a Benefit Sick Club amongst the Costermongers," says one of our Evening Readers-the one whose experience amongst this particular class we have already given in a former number. "We began with four, and our numbers now amount to twenty-five, who receive ten shillings a week in sickness, and gratuitous medical advice, on the payment of 7d. weekly. In the winter they are allowed to make coffee, and to smoke in the club-room, and this draws them away from the public-house, which rather pleases them than otherwise. In the summer they had a holiday-trip to Riddlesdown, starting in a body from the club-room. The money subscribed by the members of the Benefit Sick Club is paid by the Incumbent to the Post Office Savings' Bank." Our Readers speak of an institution existing amongst them, called the "Friendly Lead," the object of which is to lead persons "out of difficulties when difficulties overtake them, and to lead them into the possession of a few pounds to make a fresh start.” It does not appear that any regular subscription is required of the members; but when a deserving case occurs, it is made known to the community by means of a card circulated among them, proposing a meeting, and mentioning both time and place. The following is a specimen of Coster poetry used on such occasions: "Come, friends around me, do attend For you know not how soon Death may call on you." The idea, on this occasion, was evidently to assist in decently burying a deceased member, and to aid the surviving relations with a trifle in this their time of need. No fixed sum is expected when collections, such as this, are made; but each gives according to his ability. THE HOME OF THE FALLEN; OR, DEATH IN A "O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself; but in Me is thine help."-HOSEA xiii. 9. ON one of the worst districts of a large Metropolitan parish, up several flights of stairs in a back room, a wretched, dissipated-looking woman sat watching at the side of her dying daughter. It was a place perfectly destitute of every earthly comfort, "for the way of transgressors is hard." The mother and daughter had for years gleaned the wages of iniquity, expended almost as soon as procured in the dens of drunkenness. The young woman was in consumption, and that fearful malady was doing its last work. She lay on a bed of straw, without any covering but an old dress. All hope of recovery had long passed, and she was at the point of death. Alas, alas! what unnumbered and indescribable scenes of vice, misery, and despair, lie scattered and hidden from all eyes but God's, throughout our million-peopled London! A groan of agony from the dying woman arrested the attention and attracted the footsteps of one of our Scripture Readers, who was passing at the moment, going on his daily rounds. He had not hitherto obtained an entrance to the room we have described, but now, on his knocking, the door was opened for his admission, and he stood by the bed of suffering with the word of life in his hands, and the message of life and pardon and peace on his lips-"It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." Such were the words which for the first time were heard in that abode of disease and sin; and so long as the Reader felt her stsength could bear the exertion of listening, he repeated passages of promise and of hope gathered from the lips of Him who came to "seek and to save that which was lost." With fixed eyes and flushed cheeks the woman listenedconviction of sin seemed to reach her conscience, and from day to day that hardened heart evidently melted under the influence of the love of God,-love that "gave His Son to be the propitiation for our sins." "Pray for me, oh pray for me," she cried; "beg of God to forgive me my sins! But, Sir, you do not know what I am. I left my husband four years ago. I quarrelled with him because he would not give me drink, and my mother was as bad as myself. We have lived together since, but God knows how we have lived. Oh, He will never forgive me. I have been everything that is bad -a prostitute, drunkard, and blasphemer, and there is no hope for me." These words were spoken in deep agony of soul. Our Reader kneeled in prayer beside her, and tried to make her pray for herself; for alas, her days on earth were numbered, and even then were fast approaching their termination. The Reader's last visit to her soon came, and its details are truly solemn. He had seen her in the morning of the day on which she died, and when he returned the wretched mother was watching for him. She opened the door, saying, "Pray come in, my daughter is dying she has been longing to see you." "The scene that followed," writes the Reader, "was the most painful I ever witnessed. Observing me enter the room, the dying woman entreated me to speak to her and pray with her. I spoke of 'mercy that reacheth unto the heavens, and faithfulness unto the clouds,' and of Him who is able to save them to the uttermost, that come unto God by Him.' I opened my Bible, and read Isaiah i. 18, 'Come now, let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.' Also Isaiah xliii. 25: I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins. Put me in remembrance let us plead together: declare thou, that thou mayest be justified.' She only cried aloud in agony indescribable: 'Oh, I am going in the dark, and all is darkness around me, and above me, and before me, and beneath me; I have no faith, no hope.' She now looked wildly around the room till she saw her mother,-'Come here, mother.' The old woman stood beside her, and I shall never forget what followed. · Mother, mother, look upon me; did you ever see greater. misery, or a more lost condition than I am in? oh, take warning by me. You have to meet God.' No pen could describe the touching look and tone of mingled upbraiding, rebuking, and appealing, with which these words were uttered. The wretched mother was walking up and down the room, wringing her hands, full of dismay and despair at the scene before her. We kneeled down in prayer, and I asked for mercy in the name of Jesus. The dying woman caught the word, and cried aloud, MERCY, MERCY, MERCY.' This cry for mercy was so earnest and loud that it might easily have been heard in the street below; and with the word 'Mercy' on her lips she breathed her last in my presence." It is not our province to pass judgment on a case like this. May we hope, that He, who hath said, "Whosoever shall call upon me in the name of the Lord shall be saved;" and hath promised, "Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me,"-did hear the cry for mercy in that terrible hour; and shall we not be thankful to God for the existence of an agency like the Scripture Readers' Association, which sends out labourers "into the streets and lanes of the city," to "the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind," to "compel them to come in?" SCATTERED SEED; OR, THE YOUNG WIFE'S DREAM. "Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days."— ECCLES. xi. 1. OW often has the truth of this divine promise been realized, and what encouragement it affords to those who labour for God, to "sow beside all waters." Only let us be sure that it is bread, "the bread of GOD," the children's bread we minister, and, however dark, stormy, or unpromising the waters over which we scatter it, we shall find it after many days. We may forget the portion of the Word of GOD, and the circumstances under which it was read or spoken; but, like the seed "cast into the ground," it springs and grows up, we know not how, "for He is faithful that promised:" first cometh "the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear; but when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come." The Scripture Reader labouring in this great metropolis is truly a man casting bread upon the waters -troubled and murky waters he often finds them. God grant to our Readers, and to all who labour to win souls, more faith in their Master and confidence in His word. F. and M. C. (husband and wife) residing in one of the most populous districts of this city, had been regularly and attentively visited by one of our Readers for nearly three years, without any apparent results. They were of that stolid, indifferent sort of character, so often met with, who never manifest pleasure or displeasure when visited, and are willing to talk on all subjects-even a little religion, but specially of the bad state of trade, the politics of the day, or other temporal matters. They never attended church, never read the Bible-indeed, the home did not contain one. At first, as the subject was new to them, the Reader was enabled to engage their attention occasionally, but as his visits became more frequent, he began to observe, whenever he opened his Bible, an unmistakable sullenness of manner and a vigorous resuming of their work (they were silk weavers) which plainly indicated that the sooner his visit was terminated the better. The continued recurrence of such manifested dislike to the reading of the Scriptures naturally discouraged the Reader, and, as he confesses, he began to excuse himself in passing their door from time to time, conceiving it to be a loss of time to visit them. A considerable interval, therefore, passed before he again called, but, being about to leave the district, and nearly a month previous to his doing so, he was visiting in the street in which they lived, and thought, as it would be for the last time, he would again call and say farewell. It was about 11 A.M. The man was in bed; he had been drinking the previous night. The woman was not of intemperate habits, but on this occasion she looked care worn and unhappy. She had evidently had a restless night, and seemed quite broken down. The Reader spoke to them solemnly of the state of sin and distance from God in which they were both living—“ Hard work, my friends, and bad pay, for the wages of sin is death,' and 'what is a man profited if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"" The wife listened this time, and the Reader opened his Bible and read, "Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die? saith the LORD GOD; and not that he should turn from his ways, and live?” "Why will ye die, O house of Israel?" "For I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth." "He that covereth his sins shall not prosper, but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy." The husband made no remark: perhaps he was ashamed, perhaps he was not yet sober. As the Reader withdrew he left behind him, on the chair he had occupied, a tract, headed "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Three months now elapsed. The Reader alluded to left for his new district, and another succeeded him. He now, in his turn, called on F. and M. C. He found the wife under deep conviction of sin. The word of God had taken root in her heart, and she was all anxiety to hear more of Him, who came into the world to seek and to save that which was lost. Truly old things were passed away, and all things were become new. On one occasion, the Reader writes, her husband called at his house in an alarmed and anxious state, imploring him to come to his home, as his wife was losing her reason! "She keeps speaking to God," he said, as if He was beside her; she says to me she wants no one but God, and often in the middle of the night she gets out of bed and kneels down to cry for her sins, and pray for mercy. It makes me feel uneasy about her, for she never used to go on like that." On arriving with her husband the Reader found her, as has been described, "alive from the dead." In the course of conversation, she told the Reader that the tract left on the chair, 66 |