of the past if we could; our hands have done too much, in some respects, it may be. But

"When I come to the things that I left undone, then there will be more to say;

When we ask for the broken hearts that I cheered, and the tears that I wiped away;

I thought of myself, and I wrought for myself, for myself and none beside,

Just as if Jesus had never lived, and as if He had never died."

If this is the sad record of the past it is certain that we are full of desires to be more faithful and earnest in the future. We think of multitudes of mourners who need to be cheered, of hosts of weary and disappointed ones to whom we could bring hope, of the young who need guiding, of the old who require to be cherished, of wandering feet that need to be brought back, of perishing ones who might be pointed to the living Christ and have their fear of death taken away. There is so much to do that all should help. Many hands are necessary if the work is to be done. We would like to take our share, but how can we ? Already our hands are full of work: we can scarcely get through what has to be done for ourselves and those who are the nearest to us. What shall we do but pray again, "Let our hands be sufficient for us"?

There are

For this is a prayer that God will answer. some people in the world who accomplish so much of every kind of work that we can account for it in no other way than that He who wrought the miracle of the widow's cruse of oil helps them. And He can help us too. He can give us such power and such skill that, without neglecting any usual task, we shall yet be able to do much extra labour.

Dear friends, God give you all a very happy, because it is a very useful life. May He make your hands sufficient for you, so that good and acceptable work may be eagerly commenced and faithfully finished. And if before long they should be over-tired, and God should give them rest, may it be the happiest experience of all.

Eyes to See.

If it is necessary to pray, "Let our hands be sufficient for us," it is also needful to unite to it a companion request, “Lord, that I may receive my sight." It is true that in order to meet the demands made by life upon us, it is essential that we have ready, quick, skilful hands, but it is quite as essential that we should have keen, observant, penetrating eyes. For we cannot do what is needed unless we see the work. It is a great thing to have a desire to be active and useful in the world, but the desire is of little use unless it be followed by exertion, and it will not be unless our eyes are open to observe, and we can see both what requires to be done and also how we can do it.

There is much sorrow and pain that might be removed, if people who have willing hands only had observing eyes too. There is good and important work for Christ and His cause all around, and yet there are many earnestly desiring to be useful who are doing nothing. They expect to receive an angel-given mission; perhaps they look for the tasks which they are to perform as if they must come from a distance, and have some special manifestation to accompany them; they do not know that those who would most efficiently do the work of the Lord must just quietly and patiently do the work that lies nearest to them. There are opportunities of usefulness for every one who loves the Saviour; and every one who has been healed by Him has the ability to do the work. Only let us believe this, and life will not pass without some really good and valuable service having been rendered to the Master. Let us pray, "Lord, that I may receive my sight."

It is pleasant to dream of doing good things. It is easy to accomplish great works in that way. We can sit by our fire, and think and picture until we feel altogether disinclined to do more than imagine. But none of us would like to waste our lives so. The way to succeed in what we dream about is to begin at once, to see what needs to be done, and then, "whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might."

There are plenty of young folk, strong and eager, and

very much in earnest, who are longing to be useful, who are saying, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? Lord, give me some work for Thee." They do not choose for themselves what it shall be; they are not anxious to have it easy, or pleasant, or profitable; it is enough for them that it is His. And yet they stand and do nothing, but pray and long. If the Master speaks to them, surely He says, "Why stand ye here all the day idle ?" There is plenty of work waiting to be done, only they cannot see it; they have need to pray, "Lord, that I may receive my sight."

If they had sight, such as all who aspire to work in the Lord's vineyard should have, they would see about them in their homes, around them in the streets and alleys, those who need them. If we could speak to these young workers we would say, Oh, lose no time, ask Him who is the source of all wisdom to open your eyes, that you may see the tasks which He has prepared. And do not strain your eyes for the distant view, and overlook the near. Here, where you are now, where your life is passed, there is work. You are needed. Use your eyes and your hands for Him. Remember what He said, "As My Father hath sent Me, even so send I you." You are to be in your family, among your friends, at your work, and in the world, what He was. And this revelation of Him among men will be the means of doing more than you could imagine to promote the kingdom of the Lord Jesus.

May we all have eyes to see, and hearts to understand, and hands to perform His will. May this life, among whose busy scenes we have entered, be filled with good and successful labour for the Master. And that we may let no important work remain undone, because we do not see it, let us pray, "Lord, that we may receive our sight."

Our Teachers.

Ir is rather an unfortunate thing to be a learner just now. Solomon says, "In the multitude of counsellors there is safety." There is also great bewilderment. Of course it

is better to be safe, though puzzled, than to be left to our own ignorance and devices, and the same wise man says, "Where no counsel is, the people fail." But still, it is rather difficult to be taught when everybody is teaching at once. Time has been when wisdom dwelt with instructors, who were few, and modesty with the instructed, who were many, but now, whatever may have become of the wisdom, learners are few and hard to find, and the teachers are increased a hundred fold. And we can scarcely wonder at that, for people naturally choose the easier and the pleasanter occupation; and though it may need great gifts to make good teachers, greater gifts still are needed to make good learners. And who is going to sit at another's feet, when there is a chance of his getting somebody to sit at his own?

Still, there are, happily for the world, if unhappily for themselves, a few learners left. If we listen very intently, we may catch, during the pauses of the general clamour, a half-stifled, but struggling cry or two-" Lighten our darkness." "What is truth?" "Who will show us any good?" And by this we know that there is still a remnant of those who are willing to be taught, and are eager to be scholars that they may be rightly educated. They have not yet been able to deceive themselves, and are less selfcomplacent than their fellows in consequence. They cannot persuade themselves that they are on the top of the ladder, and, therefore, entitled to cry, "Come up," to others, because they know that at present they are only upon the very lowest rung. The shadows are so thick about them, and unfortunately they realise these shadows so strongly, that it has not occurred to them to declare with loud voice and assurance that they are in the broad light of the day. They know themselves, and, therefore, are content to be merely searchers, and so they lift up their timid voices of inquiry if haply some might bear an

answer.

And then? Then begins their trouble. Then indeed they need steady heads, wonderful ears, and not too sensitive hearts. For they have scarcely expressed their desire for instruction before a thousand voices are raised at once, and they are absolutely pelted with wise words. They want light, do they? Then they shall be dazzled

with skyrockets. Then they shall be surrounded by them. They want to know what is right and what is truth, and there are plenty to tell them. They shall be inundated with floods of it; and, indeed, if they are not good swimmers, they shall be absolutely drowned in it.

A learner, pure and simple, is a blessing unto many. Let him but express his doubts, and he sees what joy he has created among multitudes. Eyes grow bright, voices are raised, and an army of pens prepare to instruct him. He is attacked from all quarters, and all are eager to tell him what he ought to know. Everybody, indeed, is happy but himself. As for him, he probably experiences the sensations of a feather between several currents of wind. He is blown up and down, and round and round, east, west, north, and south. What can he do? By dint of wonderful power, he separates one voice from the others, and listens to it. It seems to be a voice of wisdom; and he carefully treasures up its directions, and prepares to act upon it. And then, with a feeling of relief, he allows himself to listen to another. And as soon as he does so, the seeker after knowledge is warned and convinced that the first teacher was wrong, and the only thing to save him is to listen to the new-comer. With patient regret for lost time, he does his best to unlearn the wrong and study the right. But before he has reached any state of efficiency, a new light bursts upon him, and he sees that that also has been a mistake. Poor scholar, what sinkings of heart, and aching of head, and general bewilderment is his portion! It is little wonder, and he is not so much to blame, if, in desperate need of a haven of some kind, he catches hold of a little bit of something, and so resolves to leave the poor persecuted minority of learners, and join the great majority of teachers.

The worst of it is, that, every single soldier in this wonderful army is fighting in a different way, and for a different end. Each speaker in the bewildering chorus of "I am right, I have the Truth," means something different from his brother. Who shall decide between them? Who shall show us what is really wisdom?

There seems but one safe thing to do. There is a Teacher who does know everything, and to Him may all learners go. "That which I see not, teach Thou me.'