a living illustration of the promise, "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty." He lived before the mercy-seat, and the Shekinah rested upon him.

He was not only much in prayer himself, but he enlisted the prayers of others in behalf of the work in which he was engaged. If there were only two or three persons in a place on whom the spirit of prayer rested, who had a simple, pure, ardent desire for the salvation of souls, and who prayed separately and unitedly to God for a revival, he knew that his success was assured. Even one such person was a great source of strength. When revivals broke out in connection with his ministry in unexpected places, he generally learned that the secret of it was the fact that some godly person or persons had been instant in prayer on his behalf.

He was a wide reader and a

diligent student, especially of books and subjects directly connected with the work of soul-saving, and therefore may be said to have been always preparing for the pulpit. But his specific preparation for preaching was mainly made upon. his knees. His texts were generally given to him while he was at prayer, and were generally accompanied with such a flood of light that the whole sermon might be said to have been given to him in this way. It is said of Fra Angelico that he painted all his pictures on his knees; each one of his works was thus at once a picture and a prayer. And this might be said of Mr. Finney's sermons. Like the sword of Jehovah, they were bathed in heaven; no wonder that they did such marvellous execution when they came down upon the hearts and consciences of men, so that victory perched upon his banner, or rather on the banner of the Lord, wherever it was set up by him.

TWENTY-TWO years have passed since the saintly William Pennefather, called to the service of the heavenly world, committed to other hands, in the absolute confidence of childlike faith, the work at Mildmay, to which his own winsome personality had seemed to others almost indispensable. To provide a place where, notwithstanding all conscientious differences as to Church government or modes of worship, every believer in Christ might find spiritual refreshment in fellowship, and abundant proof of the vital unity in allegiance to a common Lord which underlies all surface differences amongst His people; to provide a centre whence every form of Christian effort might radiate, where every variety of Christian work and every humble worker might be sure of sympathy and welcome-such was the root idea of the founder of the Conference Hall. Could an ideal demanding the most delicate spiritual instincts, as well as the most generous Christian sympathies, be sustained when the idealist should have passed away? Yes; for the sense of irreparable loss, so far from paralyzing effort, was accepted by the Mildmay workers as a challenge to rely on His word:

increasing work must fall: "God would have us, like Abraham, account that He is able out of death and desolation to raise up such a harvest of blessing as eternity alone can measure; and because we believe this, to go forward without any collapse in our work."

An interesting feature of the lifework of William and Catherine Pennefather, as set forth in the bright little volume "Mildmay," recently issued by an American lady, is the entire absence of public appeal for funds.

Mr. and Mrs. Pennefather belonged by birth and association to the upper ranks of society; he as the son of Baron Pennefather of the Irish Bar, and she as the daughter of RearAdmiral King, could naturally gain access to wealthy persons, by whom the necessary funds for the initiation of the work at Mildmay Park were unobtrusively contributed, frequently without direct solicitation. The buildings of the compound at Mildmay are strikingly plain, in deference to the wishes of a liberal friend who had contributed £5,000 in one sum on this condition. No ostentatious architecture has ever entailed a debt upon the premises. Yet the Conference Hall, with its free accommodation, its plain and comfortable seats, its admirable ventilation, and its bright texts on the walls, has proved entirely adequate to meet the needs for which it was designed. It is not kept for show nor for state occasions. Every Sunday afternoon and evening it is well filled by the attendants at a popular evangelistic service, where the glad tidings are preached with directness and simplicity. Nearly every day it is turned to good account. Now a cab

We

man's mission, now an orphanage, now some earnest missionary society avails itself of the large hall. have been present on Boxing Night, when a motley group of all sorts and conditions of residents in North London, and even street wanderers, were held spell-bound in listening to the thrilling stories of the founder of the Mission to Deep-sea Fishermen. Perhaps the most impressive sight which the large hall affords is the vast audience of the annual conferences on some aspect of the kingdom of Christ, when, ere the speaking begins, every head is bowed in silent prayer. "To witness so many hundreds bowed in solemn silence before the throne of grace, pleading specially for the unconverted then present, filled me with awe," writes one of the first-fruits of Mildmay. "I wondered whether I was to be really converted that night." The serious thought thus aroused led him to Christ.

Every Tuesday morning the Association of Female Workers, of which Mrs. Pennefather remained President for more than thirty years, and which represents almost every known body of Christians, meets to remember before God its eighteen hundred members scattered over distant lands.

This little volume, the first systematic account of Mildmay operations, gives us a pleasant picture of life in the various buildings of the Mildmay compound. The Deaconess' Home was the first Protestant institution in England for the training of Christian women for active philanthropic and spiritual effort, the origin of which dates back to the impetus given by the labours of Florence Nightingale. Each has her regular duties assigned, yet there is no solemn ceremony introducing her to the sacred calling, no promise exacted, but all is ordered according to the spirit of the text which greets one in the entrance hall: "This is the law of the house: The

whole limit thereof round about shall be most holy."

After speaking of the neat, distinctive dress of the deaconesses, Miss Cook, for a considerable time an inmate of the Home, continues:

"There is such a healthful, vigorous Christian life at Mildmay, nothing morbid. About fifty gather in the Centre House. These women were in the prime of life, some quite young. All seemed bright and alert, as though life was a very real good; I could not believe these faces were daily saddened by contact with the poorest and most wretched of London. This must be a sort of ideal life. These cannot be the women who work in the slums. Later I learned better. 1 found those whose faces are the brightest are the very ones who carry the same joy into the darkest homes, and who are the quickest to feel for the sinful, and to extend the helping hand. If you speak to them of hardship, of late hours and privation, they will say with merry laugh: 'Oh! I love my people; it would break my heart to leave them. I wish I might stay at my mission all of the time, but we may not; we must come up. '"

From this cheerful Centre by two and two the deaconesses go out to some of the twenty missions affiliated with Mildmay. The workers spend several nights. in the week away from the Centre. Each mission has, of course, its own network of Bible-classes, night schools, and mothers' meetings. The details of such missions are now happily familiar to London Methodists. At the Lads' Institute at Bethnal Green, open every night, much has been accomplished amongst drunkards and trained pickpockets. A touching story is told by Miss Cook of how three pounds fifteen shillings had been stolen from an inexperienced deaconess, and how in answer to prayer and by quiet effort all the culprits were re-assembled in the mission-room.

"She sat down with them and talked quietly and gravely, taking as her text, Be sure your sin will find you out.' Presently a boy sat down on the floor, pulled off his boot, and from this recepta

cle produced a part of the missing coin; one and another followed suit, and concerning the remainder one boy confessed:

It's at the stable, teacher; Smith, he's our banker, and took it there to hide. Let me go, teacher; I'll promise I'll come back.' The trust was not misplaced; he soon returned, the balance clasped in his hand, one pound seventeen shillings. The trembling culprits still awaited their sentence. "Well, boys, I will forgive you all, this time.' Thus, by long-suffering, by kindness, by love unfeigned, rough hearts were won and kept for Christ, and now many are shining lights of the Bethnal Green Mission, a little Mildmay, as they fondly call it. Oh! now we believe in your religion,' said a poor man, long an infidel, because the ladies are come to live with us.

A large and successful Night School for men held under the Conference Hall, and various rescue and preventive homes, are also managed. by the deaconesses. We refrain from mentioning individual names, remembering Mr. Pennefather's admirable rule: "Keep the workers hidden; speak only of the work, to the glory of God."

In close connection with the Deaconess' Home, the Training School for missionary workers is realizing one of the earliest and most cherished schemes of Mr. and Mrs. Pennefather, a charming property called The Willows, overlooking Clissold Park, Stoke Newington. More than two hundred young women, many of them of wealth and culture, freely given to the work, have thus been trained, by wide acquaintance with missionary enterprise, by instruction in foreign languages, such as Hindustani, by systematic Bible. study, chiefly expository, by practice in household management and in outside philanthropic effort, by acquaintance, many of them, with theoretical and practical teaching, for service in the foreign field.

"Their prayer-meeting," writes Miss Cook, "is a very precious hour of drawing near to God." As I was present at these meetings I realized they were not school-girls moved by a romantic senti

ment to go to heathen lands, but a band of women who early in life have heard the voice, The Master has come and calleth for thee.' It is a beautiful sight -young women, who are well fitted for society at home, choosing the better part,' and consecrating the very brightness and beauty of an attractive life to Christ. How rich they are already in their earnest consecration! You cannot be with these happy Christians without feeling the power of Christ."

The Nursing Branch of the Deaconess' Institution stands deservedly high in public estimation, and is quite unable to meet all the demands made for its highly qualified workers. One of these has found a sphere as Superintendent of the British Seamen's Hospital at Malta. Others occupy positions of responsibility in various parts of Great Britain. The Mildmay nurses are constantly reminded of the opportunity which their ministry of healing to the body affords them for bringing light and hope to anxious souls. Every nurse before leaving to fill an engagement spends a short time in prayer with the Superintendent, Miss Dean. This branch of the work is entirely self-supporting, and provision is made for the pensioning of superannuated nurses. A few steps from the Nursing Home is the picturesque Memorial Cottage Hospital, given by the generosity of Lady Hay. A brass tablet in the hall bears the inscription:

"TO THE GLORY OF GOD.

"In memory of William Pennefather in his work for God among rich and poor.

"And in memory of Duncan Hay, my beloved son, taken suddenly from me."

This gift was the answer to two years' earnest prayer on the part of the Mildmay workers, their first unpretending little Cottage Hospital having long become too strait for them. Of this one is reminded by the words which greet the eye on

entering the cheerful hall: "Have faith in God."

In the Children's Ward, bright with toys and flowers and the sunny smiles of the nurses, we have another instance of the hallowed ingenuity of Mildmay in finding a motto of encouragement from the sacred Word exactly suited to the special work in hand: "He shall save the children of the needy." Similar homes of hope and healing are found in the Cottage Hospitals at Enfield and at Barnet, besides which there is at Torquay a Mildmay Home for Incurables.

One of the most encouraging developments of the twofold ministry of healing, so specially laid upon the hearts of Mr. and Mrs. Penefather, is found in the various medical missions in successful operation. The earliest and perhaps the most highly appreciated centres round the old hospital at Bethnal Green, which in 1877 was opened in Turville Street. "Our Hospital," as the Bethnal-greeners lovingly call it, is a transformation of a disused, dingy, and battered warehouse. In the course of fifteen years about five thousand cases have been received, whilst nearly a hundred and fifty thousand patients have visited the dispensary. Here twice a week a Gospel service is held, and eager crowds, representing every form of sickness and disease, and every grade of helpless poverty, may be seen responding to the efforts of the workers, who fulfil our Lord's command, "Heal the sick, and say unto them, The kingdom of God is come nigh unto you." As to the work of those who serve in the wards of "that cool, beautiful Hospital," as a poor, over-driven woman called it, we have received the testimony of

a

recent inmate, "They are just angels! That's all about it!"

One cannot wonder that this, the first Mission Hospital in London, where by patient skill the strong prejudice of the bird-fanciers, half

penny toy vendors, match-box makers, and silk weavers of Bethnal Green, against being nursed away from their own apologies for homes has been so successfully overcome, is regarded with almost reverent affection by the Mildmay workers. Here many of the students from The Willows receive, in the surgery and dispensary, as well as in the wards, much valuable practical instruction. It is interesting to note that the work has grown so satisfactorily that larger and better premises are about to be opened.

Dr. Burns Thomson, the founder in the Cowgate, Edinburgh, of the first medical mission, and the apostle of the movement, has found a quiet retreat at Mildmay, and still employs the remnant of his strength in giving weekly Bible readings to the deaconesses, as well as in supplying practical guidance in the selection of agents.

"In one way," writes Miss Goodwyn,' the Lady Superintendent, "at Bethnal Green we are at a disadvantage. For while we must have skilful nurses and physicians, in addition to their professional qualifications they must be real, earnest Christians. We might often secure skilful worker, who would be lacking in the one essential qualification. But as Christians we feel we must be thorough, that we may thus commend God's love to our patients."

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"Have pity, have pity, Lord!" murmured Mrs. Pennefather as she lay on her death-bed, and the eager watchers thought that the plaintive plea had reference to her own sufferings; but in a few moments the feeble voice continued, "Have pity on those who do not know Thee."

That cry of compassion for the lost and homeless finds practical expression in the rescue and preventive work connected with many of the twenty Mildmay missions in London. At The Haven, in the Borough, Southwark, the dancing saloon of a low restaurant is now occupied by the mission room. The Shelter,