I shall not easily forget the evening when Mrs S— came amongst us again, bringing the new baby, as they usually do, to introduce to the meeting. The regular business had not commenced, and I was going about from one to the other, taking the money for the work. After congratulating her upon her recovery, and welcoming the new baby, she passed on to a seat by the fire, that some of them were trying to make extraordinarily comfortable for her. I saw a little group gathering round her, talking about the baby (we are rather in the habit of making a good deal of the last baby); and presently, as in the course of my work I passed near this group, I heard her say, “You have been just like kind sisters to me. It was the best day of my life when I came here, and I shall never forget how kind you have been to me.” “O Mrs S—,” said a kind, cheerful woman, who had the good sense to see that the expression of strong feeling was too much for the poor, weak mother just then, “never you mind about that; it did us good to do it: and you must make haste and get well and strong, and then we shall come upon you to help us some day.” The sequel to this story is too pleasant to be omitted. During the Christmas week, or as soon as possible afterwards, we invite the poor women of this society, with their husbands, to partake of a social cup of tea together. The nicely lighted and prettily decorated rooms presented last year a most cheerful appearance. About a hundred and fifty of these poor people assembled, with fifty or sixty of their richer neighbours. That evening I saw, for the first time, the husband of Mrs S—. They were sitting together, and she was nursing her baby; but they both looked uneasy. The drunkard and his family are so accustomed to “hide themselves away from view,” that the bright light and numerous company made them feel how shabby they were. A few kind, encouraging words were at first necessary to reassure them, and make them feel that they were welcome. Presently, I had the pleasure of observing that they had become thoroughly interested in what was passing, and the clouds had passed away from their countenances. I do not think that any exhortation was given that night to drunkards especially,—in fact, I believe that the subject was never once mentioned in any way. The platform was occupied by gentlemen of no common standing. Amongst the speakers, were some of the leading philanthropists of the day; and it is not matter of surprise that the words of these earnest men should have conveyed to their audience something of the intense love and sympathy which pervaded their own hearts. It was an evening that many will long remember with pleasure; but to our poor friend (Mrs S—) it was the beginning of a new life. After the meeting was over, her husband said to her—