'Mr. Rutherford, the ways of the Almighty are mysterious, but they must be right. When a lone wanderer, you took me by the hand; you gave me counsel, you assisted me with means, you introduced me to influential friends; you made my heart glad then, and gave me an impetus which has led me on to success beyond my expectations. The money I have returned to you, but the debt of gratitude for your kindness to me in that hour will remain an uncancelled obligation while I live. And now, sir, you must take this trifle from me--I demand the right of a debtor to your bounty--take it, and keep it for your present need; it must not, it shall not be that either you or your angel wife know the pinchings of want.' His voice trembled so violently, that he could scarcely utter the few last words; nor could Mr. Rutherford respond to this warm burst of sympathy; it had gone directly to his heart, and caused a flow of feeling that could find no vent in words. 'I must leave you for the night. God willing, I shall see you on the morrow, and tell you all my story. You then will see that I do not rob myself, and we will devise some other plan together.' Mr. Rutherford shook his hand with a silent grasp, but it told the young man that his offering of love and gratitude had done its work. Leaving his best respects for Mrs. Rutherford, William departed. As Mrs. Rutherford entered the room, after their guest had gone, she found her husband seated by the stand, and looking at something which he had spread out upon the table. 'See here, Mary.' She stepped up to him, and putting her arm around his neck, stooped over beside him. 'My dear husband! what does this mean? Five hundred dollars!' and she looked at him in amazement. 'Yes, my love; it is five hundred dollars given us by that young man whom a few years since we befriended: this is the way, my dear, that God gives back the bread cast upon the waters.' 'Oh, my dear George!' and she threw herself upon his bosom, 'how glad I am for you; you feel that you have one friend now, don't you?' 'Yes, Mary; and you cannot think how my heart leaps at the thought; one sympathising friend in an hour like this, is indeed "cold water to a thirsty soul"; but oh! that better Friend above, shall we ever forget him, Mary? How good! how true! how wise! how unfailing! if we will only trust in Him.' They said no more: silently they sank together on their knees, and poured out the fulness of their hearts to that Friend--that better Friend above. In the hour of our deep distress, when the dark clouds are around and above us, the soul is prone to feel that the darkness which oppresses it is the frown of God: we forget that love may be concealed, not turned away. To Mr. Rutherford's heart this mercy-drop came; a delightful assurance that he was not forsaken, and that still the arm of sovereign love was stretched out over him.