I have known, and I still know, dear friends both young and old who, when going for a holiday, put aside a weekly sum in accordance with their means to be spent in good doing as opportunities present themselves. This is their thank-offering to God for their own bright holiday. Those who have pinched and saved and been obliged to calculate every penny before leaving home, and who, whilst absent, have "to turn a penny both sides up before spending it," as I heard a poor woman remark, cannot spare coin from their purses. But opportunities come, nevertheless. The possessor of a comfortable seat on shore or promenade, or beneath a sheltering tree, may give place to a wan-faced mother, weary with carrying her baby, and looking longingly but vainly for an empty place whereon to rest. Ailing people are often eager to speak of the sad time of sickness they have passed through, and it is no small comfort to them if a stranger, resting on the same bench, will listen patiently, sympathise with their weakness and encourage their budding hopefulness by cheering words. What opportunities these incidental meetings give for saying something about the Great Physician of souls; of God's love in Christ; of our daily needs and dependence upon God, and His willingness to supply all our needs. If the help of a girl's strong arm can aid age and weakness in the journey from the shore to the humble lodging, why should any young servant of Christ wait to compare her pretty summer dress with the faded black--the badge of poverty and widowhood--worn by the feeble, old body she would like to help? Should we not try to think how God regards even the smallest labour of love undertaken for our weak neighbour, rather than of what our fashionable friend will say if she sees us in such lowly company? It needs a very grateful and a very loving nature to be constantly on the look-out, so as to lose no opportunity of good doing. The heart must be full of gratitude to God for mercies bestowed, and of tender consideration towards every human sister and brother, for His dear sake. Many years ago, I was honoured by the friendship of a good man who possessed such a nature as I have described. In whatever place or company he might find himself--and more especially if he had been unexpectedly brought into it--his first thought would be, "I am not here for nothing;" his first question, "What work has God for me to do in this place?"