How that for them He wept, He bled, He died;

How that He waits to welcome all, and ne'er His precious gifts to one poor soul denied, So that for all there's hope, for none despairHaste to the rescue, souls are to be won And bodies fed and clothed-oh! come and show

Your love to Christ for all that He has done. His love, how great-your services how few! And when the King shall sit upon His throne

Before the assembled world, at the last day He'll claim you by these tokens for His own, Your work of love by bliss untold repay, And prove how true to you that now believe, That 'tis more blessed to give than to receive!

t

Instead of 8, Merrion-square North, Dublin, address 35, Upper Fitzwilliam-street, Dublin.

LONDON: WILLIAM MACINTOSH,

24, Paternoster-row, E.C.

BIRDS' NEST.

CHILDREN'S PART OF THE REPORT.

THE story of the BIRDS' NEST for the past year is one in which we still find much of the loving-kindness and tenderness of Jesus. It was not only while on earth that He cared for little children, but now that He is in His heavenly glory, He still seeks and saves them. He still cares that they should be fed, and clothed, and trained in the way they should go. In light and darkness He still provides for them; and when, like the disciples, we may have been wanting the means to buy them daily bread, and have "toiled all night and taken nothing," suddenly we find provision made, and with Peter we say, "It is the Lord;

for Jesus has been on the shore all the time watching our struggles; and

when faith had been long enough tried, He Himself provided the "fire of coals" and food.

I have just been writing the large Report; but the list of collections take up so much room, that I had to keep all the details of our daily life for this, only in that I have mentioned one or two great things which I will repeat here more at length; because some may read this who will never see that, and I would not like any one to miss anything of the wonderful story of God's providence.

During the past year our Nest has increased; the family had grown so large that the mother birds were obliged to consider how to make room. There was not half room enough to wash and dress the little ones, and there was no place in which we could nurse up those who had sore eyes, or sore feet, or any other little

ailment; so in spring we thought a great deal about it, and we settled to build a new laundry out in the playground, and take the old one, which was part of the large building, for the comfort of the little ones. And now the old washing-troughs make famous baths, and the space upstairs, which used to be divided into a drying-room, and a folding and ironing-room, is thrown into one room, which we call a nursery; it is furnished entirely for the comfort of the little ones and their nurses. About 50%. of the money required was collected as a memorial fund for the dear friend who died in August of 1866. She had formed and carried out many plans for the happiness of the children, and they loved her very much indeed. So we got a card framed and hung over the chimney-piece, with these words illuminated