guished until it had destroyed a large portion of our

town.

The following are among our losses :—

The old S. Luke's Church, and, besides it, the new S. Luke's, on which we had spent 4,600 dollars; a Sunday-school house; a very good pipe-organ in the old church, and a good bell-all the result of the labours and zeal of a generation.

The new church was all but completed as to its exterior finish.

My own residence was burned, and of all its contents-furniture, musical instruments, books, manuscripts of thirteen years' ministry, clothing-scarcely anything was saved; for the fire originated in our near neighbourhood, and I was glad to get my wife and three little children away in safety.

Over and above insurances, the Church's loss was about 1,500 dollars, and our personal loss was over that amount. It was a very heavy and discouraging blow at the time, but I am thankful to say that through the sustaining grace of GOD, and the kindness of many good friends, we are beginning to forget the trial. Though scarce two months of our summer season has passed, we have commenced the re-erection of the church, and are pushing on the work as rapidly as we can, hoping in the course of a year to have a church to worship in again, instead of the town-hall, which we have been compelled to hire.

I need not enumerate the difficulties which have come upon us of late, but the above will show you that we are in a position to appreciate such tokens of sympathy and kindness as you have shown.

Our Play.

ATURDAY, June 24.-Quite a red-letter day in the Orphans' Calendar. Forty of the number had been invited to spend the day in Hertfordshire. How they all enjoyed it and no wonder! First, there was the railway journey, then the delight of seeing a large covered waggon waiting to meet them at the station, while, for those who could not find room in this conveyance, there was a drive in the ladies' carriage. A lovely June day-dinner in the hay-field, and the whole afternoon spent in tumbling about in it; delightful swings; tea on the lawn, with cake and strawberries; the

whole household devoting themselves to the entertainment of the delighted little guests. Could fairyland itself be more entrancing? No wonder the day was found to have passed all too quickly, when it was announced that the waggon had appeared on the scene to carry them all back to the station. Then came another delightful drive, and the whole party arrived safely home long after their usual bed-time, and were soon, doubtless, living over again in dreamland the delights of their never-to-be-forgotten day in the country.

Thursday, June 29.-Twelve of our poor old folks in Shoreditch were invited to afternoon tea by one of our kind friends at Snaresbrook. Not a very juvenile party, for their united ages amount to 880. They were all widows except one, and she was allowed to bring her husband, as they are such a devoted old couple that without him the treat would have lost more than half its pleasure.

The dilapidated condition of the old gentleman's wardrobe was, however, a serious obstacle to his accepting the invitation-a difficulty happily surmounted by a visit to the clothes-room and the abstraction therefrom of an old great-coat, which gave our friend quite a venerable appearance.

What a start it was! It took us nearly twenty minutes to walk from our place of meeting to the railway station in Bishopsgate Street, though an ordinary pedestrian would take less than five minutes to accomplish the journey. We hobbled slowly along, a curious procession, all more or less lame and one on crutches, and managed to arrive just in time to catch the train, and, thanks to the friendly arms of guards and porters, the old people were all safely stowed away in the railway carriages.

Their remarks when they had recovered from their long walk were amusing. 'Well, we've had to make good use of our legs and walk very quick indeed,' said one. They very soon recovered their breath and the use of their tongues. T'aint likely that young gals like us should sit quiet,' remarked one very lively old lady, and sit quiet she certainly did

not. She kept all the company alive by her original remarks. Poor soul, she announced that she ''ad left all her little sorrows at 'ome, blowed 'em all away for a time,' and the smallest things afforded her fresh matter of amusement. The tunnels were a great delight, reminding her, she said, of 'Peep o' Day!'

At the Snaresbrook Station, they were greatly pleased to find a real ladies' carriage sent to meet them and take them for a drive in the Forest. One old lady of seventy-seven immediately took possession of the box seat, climbing up almost as nimbly as a footman a quarter her age might have done.

How they enjoyed that drive through the Forest, and the sweet smell of freshly-mown hay, and the refreshing sights and sounds of country life!

Then came a sumptuous tea provided for them on the lawn-to which, we need hardly say, they did ample justice-and the pleasure of sitting in a garden for a long summer's afternoon, breathing in the fresh air and the sweet scent of the flowers. What a contrast to be obliged to return to tumbledown stairs and dingy attics in close Shoreditch courts !

'Good gracious!' exclaimed our friend on crutches, as she entered the garden, 'why it's like Heaven! I don't think anyone could die that lives here.' The account of their outing, given by Mrs. H., the feeblest and most infirm of the happy party, to the Sister who is in the habit of visiting her, was very original. I had a drive,' she said; 'I think it was what they calls the Forest, but, you know, I can't see very plain, but the air done me a deal o' good. When we got to the house there was a tall, grand lady with a gold chain waiting for us at the gate, and she took us through the house into the garden. Oh, it did me good to sit there! Why the garden was as big as this street' (looking out into her little square court), ' and 'alf as long again, and the grass was like welwet, an' they grows their own Christmas' (holly trees); 'there was some plain and some variegated; and then, oh, it was such a tea,

and no grabbing, but all ladies and gentlemen to wait on you!'

Just before starting on their homeward journey our kind hostess provided each with a glass of wine and a piece of cake. Such an unwonted luxury was, as may be imagined, highly appreciated, and the following day, when poor old Mrs. H. was asked by her granddaughter what she should get for her supper, she was rather startled by the reply, 'The same as I 'ad yesterday, my dear-a glass o' wine an' a piece o' cake.' 'Why, granny,' remonstrated the young woman, 'a glass o' wine costs sixpence, and where's the money to come from?' 'Oh, then,' said the contented old lady, 'get me a ha'porth o' sherbet instead.'

On their homeward journey the old people did nothing but express their gratitude to those who had so kindly thought of everything that could give them pleasure. 'We can pray for them,' they said, 'and we will, too.'

Who can number the prayers and blessings, from those who cannot recompense in this world, that ascend and encircle the path of those who know how to spend their wealth in promoting the happiness of their poorer brethren!

We cannot let this month's number of Our Work go to press without expressing our gratitude to all, and especially to the children, who, by answering our last month's appeal, have put it in our power to provide summer excursions for old and young.

While thanking them most heartily for the help that has been sent us, we still venture to express a hope that the letter-box will for many days continue to furnish a supply of shillings and sixpences, since not much more than half the required amount has as yet been contributed.

It must be remembered that such a large family as ours entails very great expenses. We are at present in the height of our season. The Women's Treat, the Shoreditch Boys, the Infants, and the Kilburn Sunday School Treats are yet to come.

Our young friends will rejoice to hear

that the Shoreditch and Linton Place Sunday School Treat, which took place on Saturday, July 15, was a great success.

Our start was certainly anything but promising. A steady downpour of rain and a leaden-looking sky afforded the reverse of a cheering prospect.

Still there was nothing for it but to make the venture, for the feast was prepared in Queen Elizabeth's Hunting Lodge, in Epping Forest, and the trains had been fixed.

We started, therefore, in the pouring rain, the poor hats-many of them borrowed for the occasion-carefully covered with pockethandkerchiefs, which were very soon soaked through. Splash, splash, we tramped through the mud to the station, exciting the pity of the passers-by.

'Poor children, poor children,' said one old gentleman, shaking his head mournfully, 'it will be the death of half of them.'

Such melancholy forebodings were happily not destined to be realised. Once in the railway-carriages the rain was forgotten, and the children sang and shouted to their hearts content, cheering, as is their wont, every cow and sheep they saw in the fields as they passed along.

We had not been more than a few minutes in the forest when, to everyone's great delight, the rain stopped. The blue sky appeared, and the sun shone out gloriously. The ground certainly was rather damp, and the boots that had been so carefully polished were soon covered with a coating of country mud.

One little girl felt very sorry for her boots. 'I got up at five o'clock this morning,' she said, 'that I might have time to polish 'em, and look at 'em now! I found a bit o' rag just now and tried to wash 'em, but t'aint no use.' It is a curious fact that when they have boots worthy of the name, these children are much more concerned about polishing them than they are about polishing their hands and faces.

The treat was pronounced on all sides to be a great success; donkeys, swings, and merry-go-rounds were all fully employed,

and many were the tumbles into muddy ditches in pursuit of wild roses and honeysuckle.

The day's outing was thoroughly enjoyed, and the trouble and expense such treats must entail was fully appreciated by the children.

'Oh, Sister!' said one child, 'what a lot of pounds it must cost to treat us children like this!'

And when told that little girls and boys in a higher rank of life had done much towards providing it for them, they said directly, 'Oh, Sister, we don't know what to say to 'em for it, but you'll say something good for us, won't you? You see, we earns very little ourselves, and what we get we gives to our mothers.'

So now, dear children, what shall the 'something good' be that we are to say in their behalf. Surely we cannot do better than remind you of His words, Who said, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me.'

A Shoreditch Autobiography.

(Continued from page 162.)

R. H, the London agent, was always sending me country engagements, and I thought he was making too much out of

me, for if I signed an agreement with a manager for 77. for a certain term, the agent would get pretty nearly 27. out of itwhat with one thing and another. So I dropped him, and took to advertising in the Era, that's our professional paper; 3s. 6d. each time I paid for the advertisements. Did I get on as well so? Oh yes, quite as well; you see I was well known, and folks were glad to get me. One time I was at Birmingham, and a rare nasty trick that London agent played me. He had heard that I was going

P

to apply to a manager there for an engagement, so he wrote and told him that he would find my business too low for his audience. So, when I called on the manager he says, "No, thank you, Mr. I'm afraid you won't suit us here." I asked him why he thought so, and at last he said he had been told our business was too low. I was wild. However, he agreed to give us a trial, and fixed the next Saturday night. Well, we drove up in a cab all ready; the house was very full, for Saturday is always a good night for entertainments, and-there! we did have a good reception. We were called on three times, and the manager was so pleased that he gave us a good long engagement. Who do I mean by us? I had taken a boy out of the streets and trained him, and he was first-rate for playing the tambourine and bones.

'Another time I was at Liverpool, and a German manager saw our performance, and engaged us to go to Germany. He paid half the passage-money, and we stayed some time.

'Well, I begun to get older, and tired of such a wandering life, for I was never more than two months in the year at home. Yes, we had left the Gardens, or I may say the Gardens left us, for there were great alterations down in these parts. We were living in lodgings then. I made up my mind to give up the profession, and I thought I could not do better than take to the carpentering once more, so I kind of bound myself to a man to learn the old trade again, for I didn't remember much about it by that time. I got on at it capital, but the very day before my time was up, the master-he says, "You come early to-morrow morning, P- —, for I want to overhaul the machinery." So I got there by four o'clock, and I was putting a band on a wheel, when my arm got caught, and was torn right off, just below the shoulder. I was taken to the hospital and lay there for many weeks. When I came out, what was I to do? I was spoilt for the profession and I was spoilt for trade, and my savings were melting away every week.

'At last I learnt the photography, and I got a camera and other things necessary, and went about the country to try to earn a living.

'I got on pretty well in the summer. I'd go to seaside places. Sometimes I went to Yarmouth, and perhaps I might earn 167. or 177. in the season, and that would help us over the winter, but it was hard work to earn a living-very hard work; and One only knows what I've gone through. The wife fell ill, and at last she took to her bed. She was very patient, but could not bear me out of her sight. Privation helped to kill her. She lay ill eighteen weeks; it was dropsy and chest complaint, and she died here, in this room.

'I did not think the end was so near, and I had gone out. When I came back she was dead. No, ma'am, I can't talk about it; it was just four years ago.

My

'I've been ill eighteen months; mine is dropsy, too. Look at my feet. I can't get any boots on, and my chest is so bad. cough keeps me awake for hours at night. Yes, I've been to hospitals, but they can do me no good, though I may last a long time yet.

'How do I manage to get on? Well, some of my old acquaintances help me a bit. They do what they can, but it is not much. You see they have their own families to think of. I spent all my savings long ago, and I've been obliged to part with all I can. I've sold my camera and photographic things; so even if I could get about, I can't take to that again. I think, maybe, if ever I get about again, I might earn a bit by fiddling, for you see I picked up a bit of that in my young days. How could I, with only one arm? Why, I'd screw the bow into my wooden stump, and I have my left hand still. Perhaps the novelty of a one-armed fiddler might bring me luck. But there, I can hardly stand now, so it's no good talking like that. Well, good-bye; thank you for coming to see me; it's very lonely here. My birds are a bit of company for me. My fuchsia's a fine one? Yes, but it wants re-potting. How do I get mould? Why,

you see, downstairs it is a greengrocer's shop, and there's a deal of mould comes in with the potatoes; and right good mould it is too. Good-bye; mind the stairs as you go down, ma'am-they're very steep.'

editations from Genesis.

Working in the Dark.

OME, HOLY GHOST, our souls inspire, &c.

First Prelude.-Picture: The nine brethren finding the money in their sacks.

Second Prelude.-Pray for thorough confidence in GOD.

CONSIDERATION.

Joseph sent his brethren on a painful errand. It was to bring to him the youngest son of their father: his cherished one, the child of his dearest affections, the only one left, as he thought, by his best-beloved Rachel. Joseph not only sent his brethren back with this sad business on their minds, but kept one of them bound, in order to make sure of their return. They had this bad news also to break to their father. What object could the governor of the great country of Egypt have in taking away the youngest child of an aged Hebrew in a far country? And yet he must mean kindly by them, for their sacks were filled with corn, they had provision given them for the journey, and when they came to the end of it their money was returned. Wherefore this mixture of generosity and harshness? They were perplexed, and their hearts failed them.

APPLICATION.

When my soul-half enlightened, troubled, and perplexed-at last comes to work with GOD, I must not expect to be able to understand His ways, nor the reason He gives me certain things to do. I have begun to trade with my Lord and Saviour. His gifts are princely. He has filled my sack, not only

with corn, but with the finest wheat flour; He has furnished me with provisions for the way, the Bread of His Sacrament, and the Wine. of Joy, the Water of Life, and the Oil of the Holy Ghost; and all these are furnished without money and without price, the money is all returned, and is in the mouth of my sack. He is, indeed, a magnificent Ruler, in His hands are wonderful gifts; but why does He send me on such sad errands? Why does He bind my Simeon? Why does He ask for my Benjamin ? Cannot He give me something to do for Him which I can understand, something I can enjoy? No, I must go on working in the dark. I must carry my message: I must make my sacrifices. I must help others to make theirs; and I must be content when I cannot understand. AFFECTION.

LORD JESUS, I adore Thee for Thy wonderful and overflowing bounty; I know that perplexity and darkness are means of cultivating a sure trust in Thee: I will love and praise Thee for ever, only seeking to do Thy Holy Will.

RESOLUTION.

To persevere in the midst of perplexity.
THOUGHT.

'What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.'

The Resignation of the Sorrowful Soul. First Prelude.-Picture: Jacob resigning Benjamin.

Second Prelude. Pray for perfect conformity to the will of God.

CONSIDERATION.

Jacob refused to let Benjamin go. But GOD's hand is stronger than Jacob's. The famine is sore in the land; the pressure of want is great. The brethren must seek again the face of the Ruler-so stern and yet so kind, so exacting and yet so full of love. They know that they will receive no corn if they leave their youngest brother at home; with bitter sorrow Jacob is at last prevailed upon to let his best-beloved child depart. Having once made this sacrifice, the gene