he laboured on, until at length the letters of his name grew distinct beneath his pen, and "George Randall," in a clear, bold hand, appeared in the place of the sprawling cross as proof of his attestation of the document. He felt proud and gratified when he was able to carry this to his master; and the gentleman himself appeared scarcely less pleased.

"I should scarcely have thought it possible, Randall," he said, as he scrutinized the signature again. "You must have taken immense pains to be able to write like this."

"Yes, sir, I've been some months learning."

"Ah, well; you'll find it useful, very useful. You could take a situation anywhere, if we should not require your services."

George looked up a little startled, for the gentleman spoke seriously-almost sadly.

"I hope the trade being slack is nothing very serious, sir," he said.

"Well, I'm afraid it is, unfortunately;" and the gentleman sighed deeply as he spoke. "You see there have been so many bank failures lately that all trades are dull. I shall be obliged to discharge more men again this week, and other firms are doing the same."

George knew it too well; for he daily met dozens of men, steady, sober, skilled workmen, loitering at street corners, looking gloomy and anxious; for there was no prospect of getting work here or anywhere else at present. Another week passed, and then the startling news was heard that one firm had closed altogether, and others must speedily follow. This proved too true. Where there had been dozens there were now hundreds of men out of employment, and it was pitiful to walk through the streets and watch the thin, careworn looking wives and hunger-pinched children, and to note the bare, desolate homes which a short time before had been decent and comfortable.

The firm for which George Randall worked was one of the last to close, but it had to yield at length, and turn its few remaining workmen adrift.

"I must come to mangle-turning after all," said George, as he took his wages home; "for if stout, clever workmen are refused employment now, no one is likely to try one with only one arm."

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Well, never mind, George," said his wife, dashing away

a few tears as she spoke; "I'll try and get a bit more washing now. As you say, you can turn the mangle; so that you will, after all, be better off than many of the poor fellows are."

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Yes, but we shall never make ends meet out of the little you can earn, Martha.”

A little later and the widow entered the room, and when she heard that what they had long feared had really come to pass, she proposed leaving them.

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Why, where would you go, mother ?" asked George.

"To the-yes-the poor-house, my boy," said the old woman with a trembling voice. "I've learned some things from Martha since I've been here, and I shan't mind it so much now."

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Well, mother," said George, scarcely able to repress his own tears, "if we find we can't manage your bit, you shall have your way, and go; but we'll try together a little longer first."

Yes, mother, you mustn't go yet. If we find we can't get what you want you shall go.'

وو

And to this arrangement the widow was obliged to submit, although it was a hard trial to her to see that her children were obliged to deny themselves almost the commonest necessaries in order to spare the little food she required. At last she resolved to take the matter in her own hands, and make a personal application to be sent to her own parish that her son's burden might be lightened. It was a frosty day when she set out upon this errand, and in her care to avoid a cab, she slipped and fell down as she was crossing the road.

She was not much hurt, but very frightened; and in her fright she told the gentleman who picked her up the business upon which she was going. He was deeply interested in what she told him, and said he thought he could befriend her son. A few days afterwards George received. a note, desiring him to go at once to the docks. He had heard of his mother's adventure, but had scarcely dared to hope that anything beyond inducing her to delay her departure could arise from it. Now, however, hope rose high in his heart, and he hurried on his errand in joyful expectancy.

He was not disappointed. The gentleman, after asking him if he could write and various other questions, told him he had been chosen to fill a post of great trust and confi

dence. He had been to see his former employer, and from what he heard from him, added to what had previously been told him by his mother, he preferred engaging him to others who might seem better fitted for the situation. The salary was then named; and, to George's astonishment and delight, it far exceeded what he had previously been able to earn: he would be able to support his family in comfort and respectability now, and have likewise something to spare for his suffering companions.

He hastened home to tell the news to his brave, truehearted wife.

"Ah, George, you see God hasn't forgot the commandment or the promise either," she said, when he had finished his recital: "we didn't forget the commandment, but we did the promise, I think, sometimes."

"HE THAT IS NOT WITH ME IS AGAINST ME.”

THERE are thousands in our land who, although not members of the visible church of Christ, still believe, and it may be truly, that they do love the Saviour, and have devoted their hearts and lives to his service. To such I should like to say a few words.

If you really love Christ, you must earnestly desire to see his kingdom extended, and all men brought out of darkness into light, out of rebellion into glad submission to his authority. For this work he has appointed the visible church as his army, to conquer error and evil, and to spread the glad tidings of pardon and salvation through his blood. Then is it not very important that all his servants should be enrolled in this army, to add to its strength, and so increase its usefulness?

But you say, perhaps, "I am not worthy to be a soldier of Christ or to bear his name." This profession of love to Christ has nothing to do with your worthiness or unworthiness. By uniting with the church you simply say, "I love the Saviour who died for me. I mean to serve him, and to do what I can to bring others to love and serve him." You can say so much truly; why not say it openly?

But you may reply, "I might bring reproach on the Christian name by not living as a Christian ought, and so do much harm."

Cannot you trust Christ to keep you? You are far more

likely to fall into sin while neglecting to take your stand openly on his side. And remember, you are sure to do harm where you now are-how much you cannot know. The only safety is in standing where the Saviour commands, and then in looking to him for strength to overcome every foe.

Another objection some make scarcely deserves a reply. They say, "There is so much division and coldness in the church; so many call themselves Christians who show nothing of the spirit of Christ, that I do not care to be That is to say, among them." "The Christian army is so weak that I will not try to add to its strength. Because some grieve the Saviour by pretending to a love they do not feel, I will grieve him by disobedience and by pretending not to love him, when I really do." Surely no one can urge this reason when they see what it implies.

What would become of our country, if, in time of invasion and danger, men, instead of springing forward to answer its calls for help, made excuses, one saying, "I am not worthy to serve my country or to wear her uniform. I might bring disgrace upon the flag I served under;" and another, "I can serve my country as well at home;" and still another, "There are so many soldiers in the army whose hearts are not in the cause, and who go merely for pay, that I do not care to be a soldier." What would you have thought of the patriotism of such men?

This is a time of peculiar danger to the church and to the world, unless all who love the Lord Jesus unite in earnest effort and prayer. Unbelief and error and crime are coming in like a flood, and only the Spirit of God can lift up a standard against them; and the Spirit, we know, works by means of the church. Will you not, then, take your stand openly, decidedly, for Christ, against sin and Satan?

Christ is our Captain, and we are sure of ultimate victory; for "he must reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet." When we stand together before his throne, shall you rejoice to remember that you served him only in secret while you were on earth?

Remember his own words: "Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven."

THE TEACHER TAUGHT.

OFTEN, in teaching others, a lesson is brought home to ourselves. So it was in my case. I was in a condition of much temporal anxiety, and of considerable spiritual trial. How daily bread was to be provided for me and mine, and where our future lot was to be, were things very much on my thoughts. In this state of mind, one Sunday evening, I had been led to preach on "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. ""* I had endeavoured to water others with the dew of God's word; but only a very little had appeared to fall on myself. I do not mean to say that my own fleece was quite dry. But I felt very much like one of those steep and sloping channels, which, whatever they convey to others, always themselves retain less.

In due time, however, my own turn was to come. Before leaving the vestry, I was told of a sick man who had just come to reside in the neighbourhood. Nothing was said to lead me to suppose that he was a man of true personal religion. It was the more gratifying, therefore, when I called upon him to find him a follower of the Lamb. It turned out that he had been a soldier, and that he had been just discharged invalided after having been on the sick list for more than a year. He was far away from his home and friends, and was evidently in a very critical state; though, with true military politeness, he made an effort to sit up, and even to stand, on my entering the room.

The affection was on his lungs; and had been greatly aggravated, if not induced by his anxiety, as a good soldier, to be at his post on a certain occasion when there was great and actual danger. After speaking for some time on the object of my visit, and finding that he gave evidence of being not only a "devout soldier," but a man also of singular guilelessness and courage in his religious profession, I became interested as to his temporal welfare and prospects. I ventured to inquire, therefore, whether he had secured a pension on his discharge. He replied at once that he had not, adding, but without any token of anxiety or dejection, that having been so short a time in the army, he hardly thought that he should.

"Then what do you propose doing," I could not help inquiring, "for the future?"

*Matt. vi. 43.