At length a little light broke in upon her mind. "It may be he will receive even such a wandering sheep as I," she said, "oh, I will cast myself upon his mercy only, for I can do nothing to make myself better!" The thin hands were folded over the Bible, the eyes closed wearily, a faint motion of the lips told of the silent prayer her heart was offering, as gently she breathed her life away. A few months later Mr. Allen became a wanderer in many lands. Do you ever sigh and disquiet your heart, Christian pilgrim, because God has not given you wealth and worldly ease? Remember the words of One who never gave a needless caution nor spoke an untruthful word--"How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of heaven!" It is a dangerous step indeed for a young heart to form a life-long union with one who is a stranger to its hopes of heaven. "Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers," is a command which may not be lightly broken. Where all of this world, and very probably the world to come, are at stake, the cost should be well counted. "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" Even the most devoted affection the world can bestow will be no substitute for God's loving favor. "What shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" "Jesus, my all in all thou art, My rest in toil, my ease in pain; The healing of my broken heart, In strife my peace, in loss my gain; My smile beneath the tyrant's frown, In shame my glory and my crown." LIVE WITHIN YOUR MEANS. "This is pleasant!" exclaimed a young husband, taking his seat in the rocking-chair as the supper things were removed. The fire glowing in the grate, revealed a pretty and neatly furnished sitting-room, with all the appliances of comfort. The fatiguing business of the day was over, and he sat enjoying what he had all day been anticipating, the delights of his own fireside. His pretty wife, Esther, took her work and sat down by the table. "It is pleasant to have a home of one's own," he again said, taking a satisfactory survey of his little quarters. The cold rain beat against the windows, and he thought he felt really grateful for all his present comforts. "Now if we only had a piano!" exclaimed the wife. "Give me the music of your own sweet voice before all the pianos in creation," he observed, complimentarily; but he felt a certain secret disappointment that his wife's thankfulness did not happily chime with his own. "Well, we want one for our friends," said Esther. "Let our friends come to see _us_, and not to hear a piano," exclaimed the husband. "But, George, everybody has a piano now-a-days--we don't go anywhere without seeing a piano," persisted the wife. "And yet I don't know what we want one for--you will have no time to play on one, and I don't want to hear it." "Why, they are so fashionable--I think our room looks nearly naked without one." "I think it looks just right."