and uniform. He had always a pleasant word and a kindly smile; he had a sort of good-humoured raillery, which he brought to bear now and then rather heavily on the failings of some of his friends, but I never knew him say anything for the sake of teasing or annoying, and he always discountenanced anything that was censorious or unkind.

“Ay, indeed, Harry," he once said to a man who had dilated largely, and with a good deal of zest and bitterness, on the failings of a neighbour, "them's bad faults. What a blessing it is to be able to say we never do such things! I often think, when I see people getting far wrong, of what the Lord Jesus said when they took a woman to Him who had done something very bad: dost thou remember it, Harry?"

Harry had only a very indistinct recollection of the story, not being quite as diligent a reader of his Bible as he was of some other books.

"Well then, I'll tell thee," said Jacob. "He said this: 'Let him that is without fault among you cast the first stone.' The men who took that woman to Him and accused her had very likely done such things as they said she had done anyhow they had done bad things of one sort or another. So, 'being convicted by their own conscience, they went out one by one.' I've many a time had a stone in my hand, just ready to fling; but there has come a whisper to me, 'Jacob, art thou without fault?' and I've dropped it."

The fact was that Harry was guilty of the very same things he had condemned so strongly. He made no reply, but Jacob saw from the colour which came up into his cheeks, and from his downcast look, that the shaft had gone home.

"Well, well," Jacob said, kindly, "we're all poor imperfect creatures. We need to forbear and to forgive one another; and we all need to be forgiven of God. And He's always ready to forgive us, and just as ready to give us grace to do better."

Jacob had two sons and three daughters. The daughters had gone out to service, and had then married.

He had

never enjoyed any great advantages of education, but he determined to do the best he could in that way for his sons. They both turned out well: indeed, I never saw two young men I liked better. They had both a good deal of their father's genial kindness and straightforward integrity. Although his business was only a small one, he had a great notion that it was worth keeping up; and he would have liked one of his sons to stay with him and help him in his declining days, and then succeed him. He was a good deal disappointed when he found that neither of them was willing. They thought they could do much better if they left home, and Jacob reluctantly gave way. But the event proved that they were right. They succeeded so well, that a few years after I first knew him they were able to offer him a yearly allowance, which, with his little savings, would make him very comfortable. He was at first unwilling to give up work, but they pressed it so strongly, that at last he gave way, and, having let his shop and the house adjoining, he took a little cottage just outside Crauford, with a nice garden, which afforded him nearly as much occupation in the shape of hard work as was good for him.

But his garden did not fill up all his time, and he became, in his humble way, one of my best helpers. Many a poor cottager had reason to be thankful for his kind visits and counsels; and by the bedside of many who were sick and dying he read the Bible, which had been so long his own comfort and guide, and told them of the Saviour whom he loved.

None of them ever said so, but I believe, if they had said: what they really felt, many of them would have said that they prized his visits far more than mine.

Jacob's end was just what you might have expected after such a life. It was perfect peace. One calm summer evening, surrounded by his wife and sons and daughters, he entered into rest. I never stood by a death-bed which

reminded me so powerfully of those beautiful lines of good Dr. Watts:

"How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun!

How lovely and joyful the course that he run !
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there followed some droppings of rain.
But now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best,
He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.

Just such is the Christian. His course he begins,
Like the sun in a mist, when he mourns for his sins,
And melts into tears; then he breaks out and shines,
And travels his heavenly way.

But when he comes nearer to finish his race,

Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace;
And gives a sure hope, at the end of his days,
Of rising in brighter array."

Common Sayings.

NO. IV." IT DID NOT OCCUR TO ME."

LL men are more or less busy, except those (and let us hope they are very few) who are resolutely bent upon "doing nothing." Each life is not eventful, but all are filled up with occupations of some sort; even those who live in the solitude of a retired country place find that every hour brings "something to do." But in the case of most persons the proceedings of every day are not mapped out with such precision as to leave no possibility of doing anything else; at all events, however little time we have to spare for doing the good we should like to do, we all have occasional opportunities; and whether or not we embrace these, is a strong proof of our habitual readiness to "spend and be spent" in the service of God and man. But from want of what may be called this attitude of mind, we do not see the occasion when it arises; we let the opportunity slip, and then say, “If I had

thought of it at the moment, I might have done so and so, but it did not occur to me." Yet if always ready to do good, there is scarcely an hour in the day when an occasion may not be given us of doing something to lighten the load of care which each man carries, if it be but to speak a word of kindness and encouragement; and that word, or rather its effect, does not cease with the sound of the voice which uttered it; the comfort it conveyed sank into the heart of the listener, and even, if eventually forgotten, has helped to cheer him on his way. It is the well-intentioned but forgetful man who is most apt to say, and with a real, thorough passing sensation of remorse, "It did not occur to me." At the end of the day, how many a man may say, "In my walks to day I saw a poor child crying over a broken basin; I wish I had given it a trifle to buy another, but it did not occur to me;" or, "As I was driving in the country, I passed a respectable-looking woman toiling up that steep hill with a basket: I wish I had given her a lift, or taken her basket to the top of the hill, but it did not occur to me;" or, "When I was told that John Smith has got into debt owing to illness, I wish I had proposed to get up a subscription for him, but it did not occur to me." These will suffice as probable examples of opportunities which may arise in the experience of almost any one. If we ask ourselves every morning, "What can I do to-day to show my love to my neighbour?" we shall not have to look long or far for an opportunity.

And then with regard to the souls of those around us, who shall estimate the vast amount of good we might be privileged to do if ready to make every passing event subservient to the great purpose of trying to win souls to Christ? Here, indeed, we see the vast importance of letting no occasion pass by unimproved; for who can tell whether it may not be the last opportunity which will be given to you to speak, and for your fellow-creature to hear? Yet even on an occasion so all-important, how often we forget to take advantage of it; and on reviewing a day, or a week, how many

lost opportunities of usefulness recur to the mind in such remembrances as these:

"I dismissed a servant to-day for dishonesty. I wish now that, before he left, I had pointed out that his sin was not only against me, but against God; but I was so full of the annoyance, that it did not occur to me."

"When I found my friend in grief yesterday, I wish I had thought to quote that striking and suitable passage I heard from the pulpit on Sunday, but it did not occur to me."

"When I met that poor woman on the road, and she told me her neighbour had been thrown from his horse and killed, I wish I had spoken to her of the uncertainty of life, and urged her to ask herself if she were ready to die, but I was in a hurry to pass on, and it did not occur to me."

I need not multiply suggestions of circumstances which may happen to us all; conscience can supply them. But there is a still more serious light in which to regard this application of the common saying, "It did not occur to me," for it implies omission of duty, and what is the omission of a duty but the commission of the sin of forgetfulness of God's commands? Some seem to think that if on neutral ground, they are guiltless; but in God's Word there are solemn warnings to prove the error of this idea: "He that is not with Me is against Me," says our Saviour. "Curse ye

Meroz . . curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof, because "-what? because they fought against the Lord? No, because they stood on neutral ground. "They came not to the help of the Lord against the mighty." And when the Son of Man shall sit upon the throne of His glory, and gather all nations around Him, that they may be judged (though not justified) by their works, then it will be seen how an omission of duty looks in the light of eternity, and how it stands forth in the naked deformity of positive sin.

The Judge, turning to those on His left hand, bids them depart. He does not accuse them of murder, drunkenness, or any other flagrant iniquity, but, speaking of Himself as the embodiment of His own people, overwhelms the faith