congregation soon had it up again. Thus has this edifice passed through two ordeals of like character. The church had just begun to recover from its first disaster. The liberality of its people had placed it out of debt, and while in the enjoyment of a splendid prosperity it was stricken down before the very eyes of the powerless people who loved it most. No one could do anything but watch the rapid demolition, and behold the rafters swing and the building rock and shake, and observe the long sinewy flames grapple with the walls and hurl them to the earth. There were strong men that day who wept when they witnessed the destruction. And when the sad work was done, some gathered near the ruins and looked down upon the site that had held a church while they were yet babes, and old gray-haired veterans who had worshipped here all their lives, felt that death would not be so bitter now since church and home were gone forever. The insurance on this church was very light and the loss is very heavy. The pastor saved literally nothing of his own effects and his fine library and the intellectual labour of twenty years, passed from his gaze with the rapidity of the whirlwind. The fire next crossed the street, and attacked Mr. Harding's houses, destroying his residence, and that of Mr. Joseph Allison. Queen Street shared the common fate; and on the side of Germain Street opposite the church, in the building where Mrs. Crane had her seminary for young ladies, the inmates were forced to escape in the International steamer, and get away from the fire by water. The street was impassable, and all hope of getting through to a locality which had not yet been reached by the flames had to be abandoned. Terror seized the ladies for the moment, but the courage which sometimes comes with despair, made them cool enough to think of the water. The strength of iron came to them, and in a moment they were saved. It was before this house that a woman fell on her knees and offered up prayer; and here it was that another woman, fearing the judgment day at hand, gave utterance to loud wails and cries, that sent a pang to every heart. In the melee, an old lady belonging to the Home for the Aged was lost, and her feeble sisters in adversity moaned and mourned for her all through the night. The next day she was found, and joy came to some hearts that had known no like emotion for several years. Those kindly old ladies living so long together were as one family, and a vacant chair at the table cruelly reminded them of the broken homes they had too often seen. The houses across Queen Street, on this same side of Germain Street, were not long in following. Pagan Place, the old residence of the late Edward Allison, Stephen Blizard's house on the other side, John W. Cudlip's residence, in Germain Street, seemed to burn at the same time. The Bay View Hotel--a valuable structure that reminded the spectator of the old feudal time, when castles were residences of the great, was erected in