gations are usually smaller, for the men wander off into the woods and are not to be found in the huts as now. The service consists of evening prayer and a sermon. It is conducted with the utmost simplicity, but varied with as much music as possible. We sing as many hymns as can be conveniently introduced. I think that no stranger entering the church during service could fail to be struck with the great heartiness with which the navvies joined in it. Care is taken that all who can read should be provided with books, and the little trouble involved is amply repaid by the heartiness of the responses. From his desk the preacher looked Sunday after Sunday on an array of earnest faces, while the solemn thought pressed upon him that to many he was speaking for the first and last time. Every Sunday some new faces greeted him, while others were looked for in vain; for navvies are unsettled beings, always on the move, and many a one who came to church, and hoped to come again, found himself far away before the week was spent. And now our Sunday comes to an end, and with many a hearty shake of the hand, and with many a warm wish for our safe journey, we set off homewards.
Such is a navvy village as it has been, as it may be. Let it not be supposed that the above is a specimen of what is commonly found in such colonies. I have described an exceptional state of things; and, alas! the exception is a rare one. I had long supposed it to be so, judging from what I saw and heard at L W I found there in large numbers men who were perfectly ready to welcome and appreciate any effort made for their spiritual good, but to whom all the ordinary means of such good were almost unknown.
