Several years ago, I was staying in a charming home, from the different sides of which we could look on scenery of very opposite kinds. The house stood just beyond what is called "The Black Country," and looking into a valley in one direction, we could see the glare of the smelting furnaces, and the smoke rising from the coal-pit banks. From these indications we knew that both aboveground and below it in the mines work never ceased. If we looked from the other side, we saw a lovely range of beautifully wooded hills in the distance, and below them all the fair features of an English landscape. If we had kept our eyes fixed on the valley behind us, we should have seen only blackness and comparative desolation, whilst the sense of ceaseless toil would have been ever present to us. So, dear disappointed ones, I pray you turn your backs on the inevitable, and, though there may be no fair landscape within sight, you can always look heavenward with your mind's eye, even whilst your hands are busy, and, it may be, your spirit is heavy within you. Friends may be forgetful. No human message of cheer or comfort may reach you, or bit of much needed help be in sight, but still there are messages which you can claim, and consolations meant expressly for you, which are better than the best which mortal lips can utter, for they come from Him Who cannot lie. You are invited to cast your care upon God, for "He careth for you." This one sweet assurance is like the fair landscape on which we can turn the eye of faith, and forget the gloomy realities which lie behind us. But God works by human instrumentality, and it is for those whom He has helped with the power to exercise the precious privilege of brightening the lives of others. Let your givings be in accordance not only with your own means, but with the needs of those whom you help. I daresay you have often noticed the number and costliness of the gifts bestowed upon those who have already much of this world's wealth. You have heard such words as these when a friend's birthday or some other festive occasion called for special remembrance: "I could not give a poor present. I felt that I must give something really handsome, or I should have been ashamed of my gift among so many beautiful things." Oh! it is sad to think that our givings are influenced so much more by the thought of how they will impress our neighbours, and how the gifts will look in comparison with theirs. There is a verse in the Book of Proverbs which I have seldom heard quoted, but which bears upon what I have said. "He that oppresseth the poor to increase his riches, and he that giveth to the rich, shall surely come to want." In beautiful contrast are the words also from the Book of Proverbs, "He that giveth unto the poor shall not lack" and "He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will He pay him again."