One evening, I was reading the fifteenth chapter of St Luke. When we came to the words—“I will arise, and go to my father,” I said that some seemed to think that only a certain kind of prodigal would be received back in this way. I had often heard poor drunkards remark, that there was no mercy for them—they were given up—they must be lost; whereas if we went back a little in the history, and remembered that it was said of this particular prodigal, “he wasted his substance in riotous living,” it would seem that the drunkard was especially meant. I observed a poor, untidy, dirty woman sitting near me; she was weeping bitterly: her distress was so great, that I never felt so much difficulty in steadying my voice and going on. After the meeting was over, she staid behind to speak to me. She said—“Oh, ma’am, I have felt _lost_ for years, as if nothing could save me; and the thought that I might _hope_ quite overcame me; it was so new to me, I thought I should have sunk!” This woman attended regularly for a few weeks, and then she was obliged to remove to a distance. I have not heard of her since. The neighbours told me she was “a deal steadier afore she left;” and I have hope in that word which “shall not return unto me void; but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.” In order to impress a portion of Scripture upon the minds of our members, I request them, after the prayer is over, to repeat a verse. This is not, of course, compulsory; but most of them comply, or attempt to comply. As some of them cannot read at all, and others very imperfectly, there are not many who repeat the passage correctly. I generally make a few remarks upon the verse which I select, with the hope that they will better remember it, and take it as their motto for the week. I remember, one evening, I repeated—“Fear not, little flock; it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” I told them I once heard of a man who had a great deal of money—more than he really knew what to do with. He had a brother, who was very poor, and who used sometimes to ask his rich brother for help. One day, he begged for the loan of £20. The rich brother said he would advance the sum, on the condition that the poor brother would write and promise never to trouble him any more. I contrasted this with God’s way of bestowing His gifts upon us. He not only gives, but it is His good pleasure to give (as we say, sometimes, we are happy to do so and so), and bestow, not a perishing sum of money only, but a kingdom. A poor chimney-sweeper’s wife, sitting near me, was evidently listening with even more than her usual earnestness. She could not read, neither could her husband, and they had no children old enough to go to school; therefore, repeating a verse was to her a considerable undertaking. She was, however, one of those energetic people who cannot bear to be left behind.