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Oh, sir," she replied, "my husband has drunk away from me a thousand pounds, and now he is out drinking, and has left me to starve."

Beware of this terrible vice. It is very insidious. It grows by degrees. Therefore, watch against it. Stop on the threshold. Pray for grace to resist it. Remember the word of the Master when speaking of His return in glory: "Take heed to yourselves, lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and drunkenness and cares of this life, and so that day come upon you unawares."

Take, again, the home where strife or discontent reigns. Many a home might be otherwise a very happy one, but there enters the spirit of envy or jealousy or some other evil passion. A dispute or quarrel arises about some little matter which is of no consequence, and then hot words are spoken, and neither is willing to yield; and so the peace of the family is disturbed. No one can tell the mischief that is wrought in this way. All comfort is banished. Any who are striving to walk with God find a hindrance in their way. The young are led to go and seek their pleasure elsewhere. And all this evil arises from a want of forbearance. A few grains of meekness and humility, a little true charity cherished, and all this mischief would be prevented.

It is much the same where a spirit of murmuring and discontent prevails. It casts a constant cloud over the home. It makes every one gloomy and unhappy. There may be a great share of this world's goods, but some little thing goes wrong, some grievance is found, and then every blessing is forgotten. Fretfulness and repining make every cross twice as heavy, and prevent the enjoyment that might arise from the various gifts that the Providence of God has bestowed.

But how may your home become a truly happy one? How may the evil he cast out? How may wrong tempers and dispositions be overcome, and your home become the abode of love and gentleness and peace?

Seek, first, the blessing of your Father which is in heaven. We read of Obed-Edom that he received the ark of God into his house, and then the Lord blessed him, and all his household and all that pertained unto him because of the ark of God. The ark was a symbol or type of God's presence, and where His presence is felt and cherished, there His blessing will rest.

Do you desire to have this blessing? Then bring your mind into harmony with the Divine will. Love God. Banish from your home whatever is contrary to God's will and commandment. You cannot have God's presence in your home if you cherish any wilful sin. A woman had obtained her living by secretly dealing in distilled spirits. But she was converted by God's grace, and led to Jesus. So she went home, and took out of her cupboard a stone jar, which she had previously used for the purpose I have named. She set it on the table, and said, "Jar, you and I have lived together many years, but Jesus is coming to live with me, and He and you won't agree. So you must go." And she took it and dashed it on the ground and broke it into many pieces. In the same way you must cast out of your home whatever will dishonour Christ or grieve His Holy Spirit.

Then let God's worship be cherished in your home. Let each member of the household make a conscientious prac

tice of private prayer. Gather together, if possible, for

family prayer. If the father cannot come, let it be mother and children. Let the Word of God be read and obeyed. Honour God's holy day. Few things conduce more to the temporal as well as the spiritual welfare of a family than a well-spent Sabbath. It is a blessed means of uniting together a family in the fear of God—when father and mother, sons and daughters, go up together to the house of prayer.

Above all, let Christ Himself be in the centre of the heart's affections. He came to Cana and blessed the mar

riage feast. He came to Bethany and comforted the mourners. He came to Capernaum and healed the sick

who were brought to Him. He came into the world to save sinners, and thus brought salvation to your door. And even so now it is Christ Himself whom we need in all the various changes of home life. The presence of Jesus, realised by faith and in obedience, can make the earthly home a little paradise, a foretaste of the rest remaining for the people of God. So let each one in the home, young or old, make a friend of Jesus.

Go to His footstool. Confess your sins. Trust in His precious blood. Think of His gracious promises. Look to Him for the teaching and help of His Spirit. Wait for His glorious appearing.

So shall He ever be with you. You shall have "light in your dwelling." For Christ Himself, the fountain of life. and light, shall make His abode with you, and prepare you for a place in the mansions of the Father's house.

A Short Life and a Merry One.

HE Downton races were over. They had caused a great deal of drunkenness and disorder in the town, as indeed races always do wherever they are held.

There were, we are sorry to say, a great many respectable-looking people present; but it seemed as though the scum of the whole neighbourhood, for twenty miles round, had been poured into Downton. There was scarcely a shop in which more than half the workmen were at their work; and a good many masters, knowing how it would be, had closed their places of business entirely on the Monday and Tuesday of the races.

It was now Thursday morning. In Taylor and Wilson's engine manufactory work begins, as in most places of the kind, at six o'clock; but at that hour, and up to breakfasttime, there were a good many absentees. After breakfast, however, a few of them dropped in, and the shop began to look a little more like itself.

Amongst those who then went back to work was Martin Pearson. It was his first appearance that week. Martin had been at the races, and it was quite plain that he had got no good there. His face was pale and haggard, his eyes were bloodshot, his hand was unsteady, and he was in a very bad temper. That indeed was not to be much wondered at; for he was not only suffering from the late hours and the drinking of the three previous days, but, besides, he had lost a good deal of money.

Along with one of his fellow-workmen, George Rider, Martin was engaged upon an important piece of work, which was much wanted. George had been working at it steadily all the week; but Martin's absence had put him to great inconvenience. He said nothing, however, in the way of reproach when Martin returned, but received him kindly. Martin could not but feel his friend's kindness. He saw, plainly enough, that Rider did about twice as much work as he himself did; and he saw too that, in a quiet way, he corrected some serious mistakes into which he had fallen.

"He's a right good fellow," said Martin to himself. "Anybody else would have blown me up rarely, and, may be, told the gaffer (the foreman) besides."

Dinner-time came; and as they both lived at a distance they dined in the shop. Martin opened out his dinner and looked at it, but could scarcely eat a morsel.

Rider saw how it was; still he said nothing. By-and-by Martin rose, walked about the shop restlessly, and then went towards the door. His friend knew that if he once got outside the gates he would be seen no more in the shop that day, and perhaps not for the rest of the week.

"Martin," said Rider, "come and sit down quietly."

Martin felt that Rider had found out what was in his mind, and, at first, he was inclined to rebel and to take his own way. On second thoughts, however, he returned and

sat down.

"Not much better for the races, Martin, my lad ?" said Rider.

Martin fired up in a moment, as people so often do when they know they are in the wrong.

"Oh, nonsense, man," he replied; "don't talk to me that way. I mean to enjoy myself whilst I can. A short life and a merry one for me-anyhow a merry one."

"Ah, well," replied Rider, seriously and kindly, "I'll not say but you may get part of what you want; that is, if you really want it. I think we've both of us known men who shortened their days by living what they called a merry life." "Well, but," said Martin, "they enjoyed it whilst it lasted."

"I'm not so sure of that," replied Rider.

you think Harry Nesbitt was when he died ?"

"How old do

Harry Nesbitt was a shopmate of the two men, who had died about six months before this talk between them.

"He was a year older than I am," said Martin; "and so he would be about five and twenty."

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“A short life that," said Rider; "and it was ever so much shorter than it might have been, as he himself confessed to me, and as we all knew well enough, because he tried to make it what you call a merry one. He had his merry times, I dare say."

Ay, that he had!" replied Martin. never drank a glass or sang a song."

"A merrier fellow

"But the time came," said Rider, "when he could do neither; and then he was not very merry. During that long five months that he was off work before he died he had many a sad and weary day. Did you see him often during that time ?”

"Well," said Martin, a little ashamed, "not very oftenstill, now and then."

The fact was that Martin, like nearly all Nesbitt's former boon-companions, had almost entirely forsaken him in his illness. Rider, however, had frequently visited him; and he had good hope that, through his teachings, the poor fellow had been led to trust in the Lord Jesus Christ.

"I saw him a good many times," said Rider; "and I can