n the house of wicked Jezebel, a righteous
Daniel in Babylon, and saints even in Caesar's household.

Are we ever tempted to say, I cannot serve the Master faithfully? If I
were in another position, if my home life were favourable to my becoming
decided for Christ, if I had different companions, different occupation,
different surroundings, then indeed I would grow in grace, and bring
forth the fruit of a holy life. But as I am, and where I am, it is a
simple impossibility; I can never, under existing circumstances, live
near to God, or be what I often long to be, a true Christian.

What does the Master say as He hears words like these? 'My grace is
sufficient for thee.' 'As thy day so shall thy strength be.'

Even in most unlikely and unfruitful soil God can make His plants to
grow and flourish. Where I am, and as I am, and with exactly the same
surroundings as I now possess, God can bless me, and give me grace to
serve and to glorify Him. If I do not become a flourishing plant, it is
not my position that is to blame, it is because I will not seek that
grace which the Lord is ready to give me. 'Ye have not, because ye ask
not. Ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full.'

CHAPTER II.

The King's Table.

It was midnight in London, in the year 1665. The houses were closed and
barred, but strange lurid fires were lighted in every street, a stifling
odour of burning pitch and sulphur filled the air, and from time to time
came the heavy rumble of wheels, as a terrible cart, with its awful
load, passed by in the darkness of the night. With the cart came a cry;
so loud, so clear, so piercing, that it could be heard in all the closed
houses of the street. 'Bring out your dead, bring out your dead!'
Then, one door after another was hurriedly opened, and from the
plague-stricken houses one body after another was brought out, and was
thrown hastily into that awful dead cart.

_Bring out your dead_! what a solemn, terribly solemn cry! How it
must have filled with awe and dread all who heard it! And if that call
were repeated, if the holy angels of God were to go through the length
and breadth of our land, and, stopping before each house, were to cry to
those within, 'Bring out your dead, bring out your dead,' not your dead
bodies, but your dead souls; bring out all in your house who are not
alive unto God, who are dead in trespasses and sins, how many would
have to be carried out of our houses? Should we o