want; I know where to find the help needful to supply it;' but we may all, I think, feel very sure that in the vast treasure-houses of the Lord there is an alleviation, if not a remedy, for every human grief, a supply for every Christian's need.

If this belief has any true foundation, and it surely has, there arises from it this grave question, "To whom has God given the work of bringing the supply to meet the need?'

In a volume of apophthegms written by the late Archbishop Whateley, there is one which has been very useful to me during many years of my life; it is this-If a thing ought to be done somebody ought to do it, give a good reason why you are not that somebody.'

If we all dealt fairly with this question, I need not say how many of this world's wants would be supplied.

A few weeks since I was permitted to spend some time amidst the work of the Sisters of St. Peter's, and more especially in the 'Home for Incurables' connected with St. Peter's Home. Day by day, I might say hour by hour, some great need of some one or more of Christ's afflicted ones was brought before me, and I used to be struck at the marvellous way in which the Sisters were enabled to supply these wants; one time it was, 'Ah! the doctor said this morning that a month at the sea would be the very best means of restoring poor J's health; and see, a strange lady, to whom I mentioned it, has given me £2 towards her expenses.' Another time it would be, M- was just longing for something to quench her burning thirst, and Lady GV has this instant sent us a basket of grapes.' Another time, 'I was puzzled to know what to do for clothes for S-, for hers were so worn they would hardly hold together, but a box of linen has arrived, and the poor girl can be clothed.'

6

I could never tell of all the various and wonderful ways which the Great Father takes to supply through human agency the wants of His children; nor how sad beyond words it seemed to be when a pressing need arose for which no adequate supply was at hand. Oh! how I faithlessly longed for money; 'If I were only rich!' I said. 'O Sisters, if only I had wealth!' Perhaps a Sister would reply, 'I have just passed through the Park; there seemed wealth enough there to supply every poor creature's need; yet it may be all the rich people I saw would speak as you do.'

Pondering on this I passed into the ward for Incurables. Is there any sight on earth so sacred as the sight of quiet well-nigh hopeless suffering? the gathering together of those sorrowful ones, waiting and watching round Bethesda, if perchance the Angel might descend with healing for him!

Need I describe minutely the different cases of suffering gathered there, or of the Sisters' gentle ministrations? I would rather only tell of the one whose peculiar need came before me most vividly during my visit, and was the cause of my writing this paper, only adding that almost

every form of human suffering is to be met with at one time or another in a Home for Incurables; every species of help is needed-clothes, money, tickets for Hospitals (more especially for the Hospital for Incurables at Putney), fruit, wine, old linen-in short, everything; but the particular plea which I am about to make is for books.

Amongst the patients I saw in the ward for Incurables at St. Peter's was one whom I had known for some years, and who had entirely lost all use in her hands, so that all occupation save that of reading was denied her, and the quantity of books she devoured in a year was most wonderful. I had often lent her books before, and directly she saw me her need was made known. Can you lend me another book? I have read all in the Home, and many of them twice over.' 'You read so quickly,' said I very thoughtlessly. Ah!' was the answer, 'I have nothing else to do!' Day after day, week after week, always nothing else to do! What was the use of lending one book to supply a life's need? 'Sisters,' said I, 'you ought to have a library.' 'Indeed we ought,' was the reply; 'but who will give us one?' The apophthegm I have quoted came to my mind. 'Let me try,' I said; 'I think people would give us books if they knew how much they were wanted.'

Permission was given, and so I make my plea. There is a great need for all sorts of nice books-books of religion-books of science made easy for invalids-books of travel-books of an amusing sort (not common novels)-books with pictures for the suffering children-books of wild flowers, sea-shells, and the common objects of life-books such as Christian women may read in a Christian Home, and rise from their perusal the purer and the braver to fight the battle of life.

Will every book writer who reads this send his work post-free? will publishers grant a few? will the possessors of libraries send a gleaning from their stores? books with pictures are peculiarly suited for weary invalids, something to catch the eye when the mind is tired.

One well-known book-writer (I should like to write her honoured name) has already sent most if not all of her many publications; another friend has sent twenty volumes of the Saturday Magazine (a most valuable gift); a few other authors have sent a work; but should duplicates be given, they will either be passed on to another Hospital or sold to buy more books for the library.

The need is great, can it be that the supply will still be wanting?
All parcels or boxes of books to be addressed (carriage paid) to

THE SUPERIOR,

ST. PETER'S HOME,

MORTIMER ROAD,

KILBURN, W.

The word 'Books' should be put in the corner of the directions.

VOL. 8.

21

FF.

PART 45.

WORKERS NEEDED.

I HAVE received kindly permission from the Editor of The Monthly Packet' to say a few words about a Mission east of London, of the workers and work needed there.

Four years ago extracts from letters of mine written from a Mission in Cape Town, appeared in this publication; I told of the gratitude with which my poor services were received, and what pleasure it was to work where one met with such a speedy return for one's labours. Seven years in that hot climate affected my constitution, so that I was obliged to return to Europe; but now eight ladies have gone out to labour in the same way, and are, I hear, feeling as happy as I did in labours of love. Oh how I wish that other ladies, into whose hands this paper may fall, would be induced to listen to the cry for intelligent, sympathetic, wholehearted help, which the clergyman of the district I am going to describe makes on behalf of his people!

This is not, at present, one of those densely populated neighbourhoods where the poor have for years been crowded almost hopelessly together; but it is to a great extent newly built, and not fully inhabited. The pleasant houses, situated in extensive grounds, which used to be considered retired from the bustle of town, still remain, though the 'Parks' are gradually disappearing, as the old families leave them. The soil of the place is gravel, though directly skirted on one side by the Plaistow Marshes, which intervene between it and the Thames, beyond which the Kentish hills pleasantly bound the view. It is on the river, either in the docks or at the various factories on its banks, that the poor of the place are chiefly employed. Here a large new church is rising, at present almost in the midst of fields; but those who laid its foundations, seeing how rapidly the flood of population was advancing upon them, wished in this instance at least, to shew that the Church's 'watchmen' were carefully looking out, and not wishing that she should be the last to occupy the ground, as has so often lamentably been the case.

Here therefore those who wish to help in planting the parish organizations of our beloved Church, would find a field which is not quite overgrown like its neighbouring districts of Bow and Poplar; where many of the inhabitants still look upon themselves as villagers, and country air is still breathed; and yet where the streets of small tenements stretch in their long rows till they touch the great metropolis.

The place being of the kind in which few of the upper classes reside, who can command leisure, the clergyman is very anxious to obtain the assistance of ladies who would work with him in the district, living in community if they like, but each engaged in a different work under his direction, though united under one roof for their mutual comfort.

I have been living there for some months, and have found my Colonial

experience of Mission work repeated, especially in two particulars; first, the number of children requiring to be brought to Holy Baptism; second, the pleasure shewn by many of the people at the visit of a lady. These poor women have been brought from country homes because their husbands thought to better themselves by higher wages; but the strong temptations of their town life have soon swallowed up the increased means, and the poor wife finds herself not only no better off, but probably worse than in her country cottage. Yet these women's hearts and manners are not hardened, like so many of their poor town sisters, who have never known the sight of beautiful fields, woods, and hills; that purer air and life seem to give a love of home which has not left them, and they are glad to welcome a kindly face in their neatly kept rooms. Surely it is very important to keep up this feeling, which seems so different from that which two ladies who belong to London 'Sisterhoods' told me they felt was the case in visiting in those terrible London haunts: 'They like to see us for what we can give them,' was their expression to me. This seems to me naturally to become the case when the poor woman has had no experience of friendly intercourse with her richer neighbours. In a village, the squire and clergyman's family are looked upon as belonging to all in some degree; they are met continually in the House of God, or on occasions which draw all classes together, such as the cricket-match or school-feast, and the poor know and feel they have common interests; but where, from long separation between rich and poor, this feeling of mutual interest has been lost, it is no wonder that the lady's visit is only looked upon in one light. But in Plaistow this is not yet the case; a woman I was visiting used the same words I remembered so well being addressed to me in a cottage on the side of Table Mountain : 'It is a treat to see a lady, Ma'am.' I am sure for my part I felt it 'a treat' too; it is so pleasant to be received in a friendly manner by a hard-working sister, whose life we know has so many cares and so few pleasures; to find that she soon learns to trust you, and will then take your advice in many matters. There is a Parochial Mission woman' at work, and excellently fills her post; but she often says to me, 'I wish you would go and speak to Mrs. she would take so much more notice of what you say than of what I do.' When I repudiate the idea, she says they say to her, 'How should you know better than we do?' No doubt there is a certain influence in a lady, which, if judiciously exercised over the poor, will draw out their best points and bring them within the sphere of holy influence, when, perhaps, nothing else will. I have found it so wherever I have mixed with the poor, and I have no doubt thousands of district visitors would echo my sentiments. In Plaistow, alas! we can have but few ladies to exert this influence, unless some will come and join us. The present time is particularly important to the district, because the opening of the new Church, which is to supersede the Mission Chapel, forms an era, when if the clergy had helpers they might draw the people within the Church's loving embrace. For human hands must be stretched out

to grasp the weak, the ignorant, the wandering, who need help in so many ways. What can one clergyman do by himself! He gets worn down with the petty cares, which, as well as the larger ones, must all fall upon him, and which he could so easily depute to lady helpers'succourers of the Church.'

'Prevention is better than cure,' I think might be one motto of the work in Plaistow; the people are not so very wretched, neither the material nor moral atmosphere is so very much corrupted. But the tall public-houses at every corner are built and tenanted, though the streets leading to them are principally unoccupied. These unmistakeably show that the world and its god, in their ready wisdom, are lying in wait for the bodies and souls shortly.

A PRAYER AGAINST SELFISHNESS.

LORD of all power, enable me

The rebel to dethrone,

Who in my heart would rival Thee,
Where Thou should'st reign alone.

The rebel self, who struggles still
Against Thy sov'reign Hand,
And strives to raise his sinful will
Above Thy pure command.

The traitor self, whose real end
Is still to work our woe,
Mask'd in the specious name of friend,
To strike the surer blow.

Usurping self, who fain would bring
Affection's every tone

To vibrate only to one string,

One touch, and that his own.

Self, who while self alone he sees,
Defeats the gracious plan,
Which mutual benefits decrees
The springs of bliss to man.

Self, who, untaught by falls, relies
On his own arm of dust,
And to Almighty love denies

The still-invited trust.