He was certainly a good specimen. His cab was his own; he was well dressed, and his horse as brisk as himself. It was evident that “the one day in seven” agreed with them. It is well known that the life both of man and beast is shortened by the breach of the fourth commandment, and it is clear that the Great Legislator blesses its observance. We have occasionally fallen in with the regular _colporteurs_, and been convinced of the good done by the sale of their religious literature. Once at a coffee-stall we were greeted by an emphatic “God bless you and your work,” and the gratuitous contribution did not seem to interfere with the monetary. The holders of these stalls are always glad of something to read, and are willing to distribute wholesome reading to their customers. Strange incidents sometimes occur when you take a poor, wearied, out-of-work yet respectable fellow-creature, for a cup of coffee and a plate of cake or bread and butter, to one of these wayside restaurants. One evening at dusk we encountered a glazier, who, having received the tract, said he had not tasted food since daybreak. He was a foreigner, a Pole, who had been in England ever since the Polish insurrection of some thirty years ago. His father was a gentleman. He had a wife and children, and had been looking for work all the day. A trifle for them and refreshment for him opened his heart, and he gave his address. Subsequently a district visitor found it, and discovered that he was a Polish Jew. He was not in, but his wife said that it was contrary to their faith to receive relief from one not of their own religion; but in his hunger food was heaven-sent through “a sister,” and he could not refuse it. Neither did she reject a shilling. The family were subsequently placed under the protection of a charitable Jewish lady, who said, with truth, “That her people took such care of their own poor, that they had no need to apply to the Christian.” Still, it is well that Jew and Gentile should meet, as they now do, happily, in works of general benevolence. The reign of Christ will begin when universal love takes the place of sectarian hate, and religious persecution ceases. Time and space would fail us to tell how the men of the Fire Brigade love reading, and how they showed us with pride a number of _The British Workman_, sent to them monthly by Miss Weston—for are not the brave fellows mostly sailors? Or how other public servants speak gratefully of monthly gifts of religious books sent by friends interested in them, and circulated amongst them. Let no one imagine that either tract, magazine, or book is thrown away, though a kindly discretion, and, perhaps, a cheerful manner are needed for their distribution. We have made an inroad into one of the great laundries, and find that both men and women employed rejoice at “something to read” during their brief leisure. Text cards are always welcomed. “I shall have this framed. It just suits me,” said one.