When the judgment of God was about to fall upon the first-born of Pharaoh, Israel, directed by the blood-stain on the door-post, found a secure refuge "in the shadow of the Great Rock." And is it not a cause for gratitude that this Rock is always to be found just when and where its cool and refreshing shadows are most needed—“in a weary land?”

In an overland route to the Far West, years ago, our little party had travelled all day, and until a very late hour in the night, across a desolate, dusty, treeless plain, without food or water for the animals, and almost despaired of relief, when our guide discovered the rough outlines of a great rock rising sentinel-like upon the dreary plain. Under one of its spurs was found a beautiful streamlet, along whose winding way were narrow strips of beautiful meadow-land. Under the shadow of that great rock we rested until the morrow. And when the morning came it brought with it an oppressive sun, from whose burning heat and the glare of desert sands that rock was our sure and only refuge. No friendly tree was there, inviting us to its grateful shade, but our refuge in the cleft of the rock never failed us.

How delightful an assurance has the child of God in the fact that no land through which his journey lies is so weary and desolate but there lies all across it the shadow of a great Rock! It is the presence of Jesus. Let us dwell in this broad shadow always. How refreshing the peaceful stillness at Jesus' side! "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”

Repentance.

B.

ITH the same height of desire thou hast sinned, with the like depth of sorrow thou must repent. Thou that hast sinned to-day, defer not thy repentance till to-morrow. He that hath promised pardon to thy repentance hath not promised life till thou repent. Quarles.

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44

Through Fire and through later."

IRE! fire!" The cry rang through the streets, and from all directions came hurrying crowds-men, women, and children; their faces showing out in the light of the gas-lamps, which were paling before the awful ruin-speaking glow fast spreading over the city.

"Where is it?" "What is it?" is being asked on all

hands; and now the confusion increases as the rushing, rattling fire-engines appear on the scene, clearing a way through the crowd with the firemen's warning cries and the engines' tearing course. At last the truth is known, and shouts of excitement, which, though not so intended, sound almost like exultation, break forth; and the mob presses on with yet more panting haste as the word is passed from one to another, "The Pantechnicon.”

The fire meanwhile has made fearful speed, for at first the water supply was scarce, and though at length many engines have opened siege on the flames, it is soon evident that the great warehouse cannot be saved; so the gallant men of the fire-brigade direct their efforts to the dwellings which stand thick around the doomed building, and are in imminent danger of sharing its fate. From these the inhabitants are flying in panic, carrying with them such portable property as can be hastily laid hold of.

It was no common fuel on which those flames were feeding. In that great depository were massed the household stores of many noble and wealthy families, who, absent at their country homes or abroad, had lodged much of their choicest property in the Pantechnicon. The entire furniture of many a London residence was there, in ccases where the house was being enlarged or embellished,cor aa removal was in contemplation. Hundreds of carriages were on the premises. Many persons travelling had stored plate and jewels in the depository; but it was rumoured that the strong-room, set apart for the stowage of these valuables, was secure from risk of fire.

For many hours the engines pour their deluge on the burning mass, and drench the houses round; and now the fire is burning out for lack of fuel, and the neighbourhood is saved.

The writer and a friend passed the scene of destruction a few days after the fire; and through an opening in the street frontage of the ill-fated warehouse we saw the vast area, so lately covered with piles of treasure, rising many

storeys, now thrown open to the sky, and choked with heaps of indistinguishable ruins. Day by day the hopes of unfortunate depositors as to the rescue of property from the wreck had dwindled away; while, day by day, new revelations appeared in the public press as to the treasures the storehouse had contained. Not only had much been saved from fire merely to be destroyed by water; but the overthrowing of the crumbling, tottering walls, needful for safety of life and limb before the salvage men could enter on their work, had crushed many a delicate and costly article which by some strange accident fire and water had spared.

A waggon drawn up near the ruin was being loaded with large, ragged sheets of scorched metal. "What are these ?"

I asked a fireman, who stood by.

"The fire-proof shutters of the doors," he said.

"And these?" I asked, pointing to a large heap of twisted, rusted iron bars.

"The iron laths from the ceilings, sir."

"Then the building was considered fire-proof ?"

Yes, indeed it was. Many people who had property there worth tens of thousands didn't think it worth while to insure for a single farthing."

"Is it true the strong-room is safe?"

"Yes, sir, we are pretty sure of that; though it may be a long time before we get near it through all the rubbish.” "But I saw in some paper that lumps of melted silver and remains of jewellery had been found in the ruins."

"Ay, sir, you see some folks thought the whole place so safe they didn't care to pay the extra storage for the strongroom, so they left their valuables to take chance with the rest of their goods: it seems to me worse for them than anybody."

As I turned away many thoughts crowded on my mind as to the lessons taught by that sad, memorable fire. "The deceitfulness of riches," the transitoriness of earthly things, is a hackneyed truth-in word, admitted by all; but it is

seldom so powerfully illustrated as in that destructive conflagration, when literally "riches took to themselves wings, and flew up as an eagle towards heaven."

I was also reminded how our risk of loss and suffering is just in proportion to the abundance of the things which we possess; how truly on "great treasure" is written "trouble therewith." Should not this consideration, I asked myself, go far to make us content with such things as we have?

And then another thought occurred to me : "They didn't care to pay the extra storage," the fireman had said, concerning the heaviest losers by the fire," and so they left their valuables to take chance with the rest." We all, whatever our earthly circumstances, have committed to us a treasure of great price—a soul capable of "glory, honour, immortality." How are we caring for its interests? Where have we stored our hope of eternal life? Are we leaving it to take its chance with the things of a passing world? There is but one safe depository for it. The "inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away," is reserved in heaven for those whose hope is in Jesus, and in Him alone. It is true that such saving of the soul involves the sacrifice of that which is dear to the natural heart: all confidence in the flesh, all self-righteousness, must be given up; and many think the price too costly. But a day is coming "which shall burn as an oven; when all the proud shall be stubble;" when every refuge of lies shall be swept away. Shall we not then, while there is time, flee for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before us in the gospel, in the all-atoning death of Jesus-a hope sure and steadfast as God's oath can make it? In that day of terrors, when God, in flaming fire, shall take vengeance on those who obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, no manner of hurt shall be found on the souls committed to His keeping. "They shall be Mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, in that day when I make up My jewels."

But not only was there a fire-proof strong-room provided in the Pantechnicon for special treasure; the owners of