asked Mr. Reed to call upon him at his lodgings. He there told him that he intended to make some further donations to the London poor, and sought his advice on several points. Several years later, he requested Mr. Reed to act as one of his British executors, under a will which he was then making; and announced his intention of suggesting to the trustees of his fund the addition of his name as that of one "well known to him for his high and most honourable character."

"The Peabody gift was increased by that will to a total of half a million sterling; and at the end of 1882, after the providing of a large number of dwellings for the poor, the result of the administration of the fund was that, so far from the capital being wasted, it had been increased to £800,000."

For one thing we see an illustration in this incident of the importance of little things. It would be wise for us to assume that there is nothing we do, however trifling, which somebody does not notice; and people judge us, not only by the greater actions of our lives, but also by the little

ones.

That act of Sir Charles Reed, done on the impulse of the moment, was the first link which brought him into connection with Mr. Peabody, and it inspired that gentleman with such trust in him that he felt he could safely give him a share in the management of the large bequest which he intended to leave to the City of London.

So the turning-point of many a life has been some very little thing, of which it is quite possible the doer took no account either at the time or afterwards.

Now the lesson of this is, not that we are to be perpetually thinking about little things, and how we are to do them, but rather this, that great principles-such, for instance, as those of truth and justice, and the love of God -are to be so firmly fixed in our minds, that, almost without thinking about it, we shall apply them to everything we have to do, whether great or small.

But the chief lesson this story teaches us is that of one of

God's own commandments, "the first commandment with promise," "Honour thy father and mother."

Our parents deserve honour from us, because they are our parents; but the better and more Godlike they are the deeper should be our respect.

Nor should this respect be paid them only when they are gone; it should be shown to them whilst they are still with us-in all kindly deference; in the endeavour, as far as possible, to meet their wishes; and in every thing we can do which is likely to promote their comfort and happiness.

We do not say that on the ground of such respect alone it would be wise to place entire trust in anybody, for it is to be feared that people who have been very kind and dutiful to their parents have by no means done—or even tried to do everything else that was good and right. Still, the sight of such respect would at any time incline us to think well of the man who showed it; whilst, on the contrary, if we saw a man undutiful and disrespectful to his parents, we should be afraid to trust him. We should say that the man who neglected such an obvious duty was not very likely to do right in regard to anything else, if his interests or his pleasures disposed him to do wrong.

Thank God if you have good and Christlike parents. No words can tell the worth of such a blessing.

There is no doubt that Sir Charles Reed became the man he was in no small measure because he had before him his honoured father's example throughout all his life—it incited and encouraged him not only to do what was just and right, but also to seek to do the good he did in so many ways to his fellow-men.

Ask God to give you grace, in like manner, to walk in the footsteps of your parents in so far as they followed Christ.

Why out of the starry palace,
Where angels for ever cry
Unto God, are ye come to the sky
Of this far country, why?

And what is the message ye bring us,
That ye come on this night so calm,
With the music of harp and psalm,

And wreaths of the victor's palm?

"Unto you," sing the happy angels,
"A babe is in Bethlehem born,
Who shall change the night into morn
Of this dark world forlorn.

He is the Son of the Highest,

And His name is the Prince of Peace,
He cometh to give you release,
And sorrow and sin shall cease.

He hath come from the heavenly Father
To redeem by His blood the slave
From sin and from death and the grave,
Almighty is He to save.

All lands shall be His dominion
When He hath the victory won,
And from rising to setting sun
By men shall His will be done.
O shout unto God with your voices,
All ye that have been forgiven,
And sing with the angels of heaven,
For a son unto us is given.

The Carpenter's Shed.

CHAPTER XII.-CONCLUSION.

T was the last day of the year, a day perhaps that brings with it more holy, solemn influences than any other, and a quiet hush characterised the little gathering in Tom Morrison's shed; all who had ever come before had come again that night, until not one vacant seat was left. Frankie had been compelled to