The old Jewish king found comfort in his trouble; so did the young English clergyman. The one had a direct message in reply; the other had faith renewed and patience given to wait and see what way out would be made for him, in God's good time. He could say with a clear conscience— "I have done what I could. My Master will require from me only in accordance with what He has given." Yet surely, it is hardly to be wondered at, if the seal of that letter, with a London post-mark, and from an unknown correspondent, was the last which Arthur found courage to break. When he did so, an exclamation of surprise and astonishment broke from him. Day-dreams he had indulged in while sitting on that very spot, but the reality that met his sight had never been pictured in the wildest of them. The envelope contained a number of Bank of England notes, new and crisp to the touch. He looked at the first: it was for a hundred pounds; the second, third—in short, the whole ten, were the same value! A thousand pounds was the sum contained in that suspicious-looking letter which he had shrunk from opening! There was a large sheet of paper which covered the notes. Arthur snatched it eagerly. An inscription on the outer page, in printed letters, to him that the contents were "A Christmas-box for the Rev. Arthur Worsley Glyn." But on the inner portion of the sheet were words which stirred the man's heart to its deepest fibre. Brave with Christian courage, he had thus far acted up to his resolution, and endured "hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ." But the good-will of this unknown friend, made him weak, and he wept like a child. We will read the words which so moved him over his shoulder, for the sheet lies open, and the curate is on his knees, with bowed head and clasped hands, as he thanks God for the wonderful answer which has come to the letter he had spread before his Divine Master. "'Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.'" "A brother in Christ claims the privilege of obeying this Divine command, by lifting from your shoulders the burden so long and bravely borne. He knows what you have accomplished, and of what mettle you are made. Had health, strength, and fortune still favoured you, he might have been contented to wait and see you rejoice over a task accomplished without the helping hand of a human friend. He knows that sometimes of late even the diminished load has proved too heavy. He has pictured you on your knees before the Master you serve—a prayer-hearing God. And he rejoices to think that the feeling which has prompted him to send this free-will offering may be 'Our Father's' way of answering His child's petition, for it pleases Him to work by feeble human hands."