ful and happy, but still he wishes for some more direct employment in his Master's business. His religious experience, and the knowledge he had acquired, enabled him now, to his great delight, to be a teacher in that very Sunday school where he had once been a scholar. It happened that one of his children lived in a distant village, where there was no church, nor any religious instruction provided. Every Sunday, therefore, Christy walked over to the place; he read the Bible to the people, he explained to them the way of salvation; he entreated them to think of their souls. Moved by his words, the people began to read and pray for themselves; and now, on a Sabbath morning, the roads that led from the secluded village might be seen traversed in various directions by numbers of persons, all willing to walk many long miles, that they might unite with God's people in public worship. Encouraged by this, Christy devoted more and more of his time to the same labours, until, at length, not only were his Sabbaths wholly given up to them, but often was he called from his loom to the sick and the dying.

As his business increased, he removed from one place to another, until the family finally settled in London. Wherever Christy went, he carried on his missionary labours; wherever we live, that place is, in fact, our missionary station, if we could but think it so-if we would but try to make it so. Some friends, who sympathised in his zeal for the glory of God, and the salvation of sinners, longed to set him free from other occupations, and wholly devoted to missionary work. They counselled him, therefore, to offer himself as a missionary to the London City Mission, and promised themselves to contribute half of his salary. The offer was accepted, and those who knew his zeal and earnestness, advised his being placed upon a district which few at that period would have ventured to visit.

Christy was conducted round to survey his district. He was terrified at the wickedness and misery he saw.

"I knew," he said, "that -lane was a bad place, but my idea of the iniquity of the people was infinitely short of what I found it." In some places the houses were dilapidated and falling into decay; not the less, however, were they crowded almost to suffocation with inhabitants. Here, there was no bedding, the floor was black with dirt, and children, left to themselves, were crawling half-naked over it. There, awful cases of fever prevailed, and small, without air, and perhaps without water, was the prospect of the recovery of the sufferers. In the highway and open spaces the pavement was strewn with all sorts of old things for sale, from old clothes and old furniture to old rags and old nails; the back streets were filthy in the extreme; the courts were heaps of rubbish; the alleys ankle-deep in mud; there was no sewerage, and but little water; heaps of vegetable and animal matter, never removed, infected the air.

But bad as the physical condition of the people was, their moral condition was far more deplorable; Sabbath-breaking, intoxication, thieving, and swearing, prevailed everywhere. "It is impossible," says our missionary, "for me to describe the feelings of horror with which I first viewed those scenes of dirt, filth, drunkenness, and vice; deformed vice, deep black depravity. I saw people take off the very clothes they were wearing and pledge them for drink; I saw others in all the agony of delirium tremens; I saw others without an article of furniture in their rooms, having pledged or sold all."

It must be confessed that our missionary's heart misgave him. He began to think that he was not fit for such work, that he could not continue it,

It happened, on the third day of his visiting, as he entered a court, that a young person, standing at the door of a house, invited him in. As soon as he got into the house the door was shut. There he witnessed a

fearful scene. The inmates flew upon him. He had

to struggle, and hard, too, for himself; at length he made his escape, and rushed out into the street. In a turmoil of agitation and disgust, he resolved to renounce a missionary life-to finish, as he said, his missionary career, and to leave such visitation to those who could better brave such horrors than he could. For this purpose he hastened to the house of a friend; he knocked at the door; it was opened by a young person, the daughter of his friend, who was playing on the piano. "Oh! my dear Mr. " she said, come in, and I will play you a tune." So, without speaking another word, she returned to the piano, and he followed her and sat down in the parlour, with a throbbing heart, overcome with painful emotion from the scenes he had witnessed. The young girl commenced an inspiriting song:

"Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea,

Jehovah has triumph'd, his people are free!"

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Its influence was not long in making itself felt in the heart of the missionary. "What!" he said to himself, "if the Lord could conquer his foes in Egypt, cannot he conquer his enemies in -lane ?" And before the song was ended he had prayed for grace, that he might live and die a missionary, and have cause to rejoice in the conquests the Lord should gain by his Spirit and his grace.

Not only was the wickedness of the people on his district thus trying to him, but their poverty and misery made his heart ache. He could not go among them, feeling that he had bread to eat and they had none, without longing to share what he had with them. As he had but a small salary and a large family of children, this often reduced him to great straits. "And yet," he says, "I could not help but give, though often we have had to pinch, a few of the last days of the last week of the month;" i. e., just before the day on which the missionaries receive their monthly salary.

On one such occasion-it was on a Tuesday, and the pay-day was Saturday, when he was going out in the morning, his wife called to him-"As it is washing day," she said, “bring me home something nice for supper." She did not know he had only twopencehalfpenny left, neither did he like to say so; he only made answer, "Very well.”

His first visit was to a room where a family of children were crying for food; he could not but compassionate the poor helpless little creatures; he sent one for a pennyworth of potatoes, another for a half-pennyworth of sprats, another he despatched for a few sticks. to light the fire, and another to the dust-heap to collect a few cinders to make it with. Soon there was a cheerful blaze, and a goodly smell of cooking. But what was to become of Mrs. C- -'s supper ?

He was

The missionary continued his visits. attracted to a filthy back-room by the cries of some children, whose mother, he knew, was out selling apples. They too, were crying for food. In a corner of the room were a few potatoes. A fire was lighted, and sending one of the little fellows for a pennyworth of sprats, the missionary soon spread out a tempting repast on a chair without a back to it, and watched the little ones as they stood round eating it. Where was now Mrs. C's supper ?

His daily round over, he went to the room where he held the evening meeting. It was late before it was concluded. When all were gone, and he was locking the door, he suddenly bethought himself of Ayl'ce's supper. He felt very much grieved; and also it was rather serious, as he had no money left to get food for the next day. At last, he thought he would borrow some money from a friend; the friend, at whose house he was about to leave the key of the school room. When he entered, however, his heart failed him; he laid down the key and went away.

He had not gone above a hundred yards from the house,

when his friend called after him, and said, "Here is a parcel for you." Our missionary turned back; it was a hamper. "It must be a mistake," he said; "it cannot be for me." "Read the direction," was the answer. "Then it is a hoax," said the missionary. Some one cut the string of the hamper, and on lifting up the lid, he found a cheese, 6lbs. of sugar, 6lbs. of rice, 6lbs. of butter, half-a-pound of tea, half-a-pound of coffee, half-a-pound of mustard, a quarter of a pound of pepper, 10lbs. of pork, and a small slip of paper, in an unknown writing, saying, "Please accept the enclosed."

Here, then, was Mrs. C's supper, and provision abundant for the few remaining days.

But sad as the poverty and privation that he saw among the people were to him, their crimes were sadder still. A large proportion of them were thieves and vagrants, buyers and sellers of stolen goods. One Sabbath, a little child about eleven years old, was found crying in the streets. Her mother had turned her out of doors; and why? The missionary went to inquire, and found that the mother was a person who lived by stealing from the shops; that she had sent this little one to steal some wood, but the child had refused to go; whereupon, the mother had put her out into the streets, and shut the door against her. The poor little thing sobbed for admittance in vain. The missionary reasoned, scolded, coaxed, promised, threatened; it was useless!

"Take her to the station-house," said the hardhearted mother, "I will give evidence against her, and she shall be transported."

"Take your child in," said the missionary. "No," said the mother.

"For the sake of humanity."

"No."

"For Christ's sake."

"No."