The Man with the Book; or, The Bible Among the People

ALL who knew "Roley-poley," as the children delighted to call him, were convinced that something was wrong with him or his affairs. He was regarded as one of the respectables of the Court; and as he left home, with his huge narrow-edged basket, covered with a white cloth, upon which were displayed slices of rolled currant-pudding and plum-cake, he looked the pink of cleanliness. His rosy, contented face, white calico cook's cap, of which he was very proud, and his clean apron, were as charms to his supporters,—the roughs and gutter children. The partner of his life was also a partner in the provision business, as she sold sheep's-trotters outside the doors of the public-houses. Though both were turned sixty they were healthy, and their room had an appearance of comfort. It was plain that they prospered, as in the afternoon they left with well-filled baskets, and at night returned with them empty. Business difficulties were not therefore the cause, and yet the good-natured little man became ill-tempered, sharp with his customers, and "cranky" with every one; and then his meek little wife began to look wretched and speak of her "troubles." Liquor was not the cause, as "Roley-poley" was a sober man: so the conclusion arrived at was, that his "opinions," which of late had become very peculiar, were at the root of the evil. This was confirmed by his venturing an attack upon the Missionary, with whom he had been generally on good terms: and this is how the event occurred. The reader of the good Book was standing in a door-way with a group of boys, whose tossing for pence he had stopped by an offer to read them the story of a young man who was thrown into a den of lions. As "Roley-poley" passed with his basket there was a diversion of attention and a fingering of pence, with such a look at the tempting spread that the retailer approached to do business. The youths paused in their purchase to hear the end of the narrative, which may have irritated the poor man, as he looked spitefully toward the Book, and exclaimed, "That all contradicts itself, and it's made up of lies by the parsons, what doesn't produce nuffin, to keep us down and to get our money, and it says, it does, that God come from Teman, and nobody knows about that and Him; and it's bad, cos it says we are to be like a man what told people to steal a donkey. My opinion is, 'No religion and our rights.'" He then toddled away, as one who had let off the long condensed steam of "his opinions."

Next morning the Missionary entered his room to seek an explanation, and was told that "such as him wasn't wanted."

"Yes you be, master," exclaimed that meek little woman, with positive anger. "He's a-turning infidel, cos them shoemakers has lent him Tom Paine's book, which he was reading all two Sundays; and now he's miserable, and talks wicked, and goes to them infidel meetings, and doesn't stop out with the basket, cos he ain't content-like, and wants other people's things."

"She's a wixen," retorted the husband; "and a wixen what hasn't got reason, which is the worser sort of wixens: and she is always a-reading her mother's book, 'The Whole Duty of Man,' which is a parson's book, and agin our rights."

The domestic jangle was stopped by the visitor observing, "It is quite right in religion to use our reason; as the Bible tells us to 'prove all things, and to hold fast that which is good.'" And he then, in a soothing tone of voice, and with simple illustrations, proved to the poor man that God is, and that He is the Rewarder of them who diligently seek Him; and then assured him of his interest in the loving heart of the Saviour.

The old man listened, and it was evident by the manner he pursued his work of pudding-making that he was the subject of an inward conflict. After washing his apron, he poured the flour into the dirty old tub with such vengeance as to create a cloud of dust, and then he mixed with such energy that his arms were soon covered with whitey-brown flakes. By the time the dough was deposited upon the table he was calmer, and toward the end of the operation the rolling-pin was gently used. Rising from his seat the Missionary said kindly, "I am sorry for you, as you have been injured. The men have done you more harm by lending you that book than if they had broken your arm. You have struggled on together for a great many years, and ought now to be trying to make your last days your best days. That bad book will prevent this, and will rob you of the hope of meeting together in heaven. Do, my good friend, read your Bible, and ask God to take the wicked thoughts out of your mind."

The wife, who was preparing her trotters in another tub, burst out crying; and the tears started into the poor man's eyes as he said, "I'll give 'em up, sir, and I'll take to your Bible; and the name of the book I had is 'The Age of Reason,' and the 'bus-washer has it, and we was told not to let you see it."

A bad book, among a people so ignorant as the dwellers in Paradise Court, is worse than a beast of prey at large: so thought the visitor, as he hastened to the room of the family who had received the book, in hope of its capture. The man, an omnibus-washer, had just returned from his work, at which he had been employed since three in the morning. He was dirty and haggard, but this was his usual condition; but the dark frown upon his brow and the surly way in which he received the visitor were new to him. He was one of those to whom positive good had been done, and who had evinced his gratitude. He had a sickly wife and six children, and his hard earnings were only seventeen shillings weekly. As in bad weather he worked a greater part of the night, he had, no doubt from a feeling of exhaustion, contracted the habit of having a quartern of rum as soon as the public-house opened, which habit greatly reduced his wages and led to after-drinking. No wonder then that his family were at times in a starving condition. His boy of seven was deaf and dumb, and a great object of pity. One day a neighbour, to quiet his moaning as he sat upon the stairs, gave him a penny. The child hastened to the baker's and bought a loaf of bread with it. As he entered the room gnawing it, the other children, in savage hunger, sprang upon him and tore it out of his hands. This came to the knowledge of the Missionary, who called upon the man to reason with him about the spending of his wages. The Widow had already been there, and had convinced the wife that more could be made of the money if both were agreed. As the results of the conference the man was induced to sign the pledge; and to help him in forming habits of sobriety, arrangements were made for him to receive a breakfast of bread, butter, and coffee, at a house which opened at five o'clock in the morning, and that free of cost. By the time a fortnight was over the man had improved in health, and was firm in his resolve to keep the pledge and to continue his early breakfast. Good results followed, for the wife became cheerful, the children happy, and the room assumed an appearance of comfort. A cloud had however now gathered over the family, the man absented himself from home, and the wife's Sunday shawl and wedding ring had again disappeared. Their visitor was therefore concerned about them, and this accounts for his hurrying to their room. At first the man was sullen; but in reply to the remark, "I fear that you have neglected your promise to read a chapter daily?" he replied, "I'm the best scholar down here or in the yard either, and I've found out how we are kept down by the 'haristocrats;' and now I understands what are our rights, I'll have my share of the wealth which is the people's which produces it." And then, clenching his fist, he exclaimed, "And if fighting for it is to be done I'll do my share."

The visitor tried to secure his attention to the reason and religion of the matter, but was stopped by the wife, who to his astonishment, chimed in with the declaration, that "the people were becoming enlightened, and were not to be kept down by religion, though some who believed in it were good and some were bad." After listening to them for a sufficient time to acquaint himself with the full extent of the damage they had received, he said sharply, "You have not had time to think over the opinions you have accepted: when you have done so you will discover your mistake, and I trust find to your joy that the words of the Lord are pure, making wise the simple." And then he left, with a sad heart at the discouragement received.

Upon his next visit to the owner of "The Age of Reason," the Missionary tried to convince him that he was doing positive harm by circulating his book of "advanced opinions," and instanced the parties to whom we have referred. "I admit," he replied, "that the immediate result of unsettling the mind is productive of apparent evil; but we free thinkers, like good surgeons, wound to heal and amputate to save. We do not expect to annihilate the theological system of ages without damage to individuals and to society. Our principles will revolutionize and destroy until we are able to build up a new moral system." He then told the visitor that a Branch Secular Society of thirty members had been formed at a neighbouring coffee-house, and added, "After business on Saturday evenings we intend to hold a discussion for the purpose of making new members; and as I have the privilege of inviting a friend, I shall be glad to see you there."

As several residents in the Court had joined the Society, the Missionary felt that it was his duty for their sakes to accept the invitation, and he therefore entered the room at the appointed time. Its arrangements were certainly comfortable and attractive, the walls were neatly papered, and round the room were twenty ornamental brackets, and upon each of these the bust of an infidel writer, such as Byron, Chubb, Paine, Shelley, Shaftesbury, Voltaire, and others. Under each bracket was a small shelf, upon which were the works of the man represented by the bust, and the effect was very pretty. There was also a shelf with such books as "A Short and Easy Method with the Saints." Upon the table were the various infidel publications, and three Bibles—the Authorized Version, the Douay, and Priestley. There was also a Dictionary, and an auctioneer's hammer for the use of the Chairman. This personage, an ironmonger's foreman, was voted to the chair, and congratulated the members upon the success of the new movement. He then announced the subject for discussion: "Does man require a revelation?" and called upon the Secretary, a secular bookseller, to open upon the negative side. He did so in a really clever speech, clearing his way by stating truisms about the force of the human intellect, man's capacity for knowledge, and his power over the material world. He then made an onslaught upon Christianity, charging it with all the evil done in its name, and much more, and proceeded to establish the proposition: "Science the providence of life; spiritual dependency leading to material destruction." He then took pains to show "that morality is independent of Scriptural religion," and besought his hearers to reject the Book, which reason and modern discovery proved to be false, and to rely upon philosophy and science for the attainment of social and political equality with their upraising and happy influences.

Upon taking his seat he was applauded, and then the Missionary rose, with his pocket Bible in his hand, and said, "I trust that you, Mr. Chairman, and the members of this Society, will extend to me the courtesy usually shown to strangers, by allowing me to speak to the affirmative of this question; and as this is my first attempt to take part in a debate, I am sure that you will grant me your forbearance should I inadvertently trespass upon your rules of discussion. Now, as your Secretary has placed philosophy and science in antagonism to this Book, and stated that these are the weapons of your warfare with which Christianity and our social state are to be destroyed and supplanted, let me reply by taking the position, 'That philosophy is only groping in the dark for the Bible, and that science is only hobbling after it.' (Laughter.) This is a great subject, and we ought to approach it with modesty, because many of the best, the noblest, and the most learned of our race have believed in the Bible. Sir Isaac Newton from his observatory scanned the starry canopy, and then confirmed the statement of the Hebrew poet, that 'the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth forth His handy work.' And let me here remind you that true philosophy—skill in the science of nature—is after all a spiritual product from the exercise of man's intellect upon the works of creation: as, for instance, the atomic theory is the fruit of reason in chemistry. You have therefore to accept the arguments of philosophers whose reasoning contradicts your senses, as when they tell us that the earth goes round the sun. If then in natural phenomena we have to use our reason in accepting or rejecting the theories of men, does it not lead to the conviction that reason itself requires to be enlightened and directed in matters beyond its power of action? It is in necessary truths which man by searching cannot discover, that communications from the Creator becomes needful; and this Book contains such revelations: true philosophy therefore leads up to it. And now let me, on the authority of the historian Neander, remind you that before Christianity gave the idea no one thought of forming a system of enlightenment which could extend to the people. The Stoic, Epicurean, and Platonic forms of philosophy recognize two classes of mankind—the noble-minded who formed their disciples, and the gross multitudes whom they avoided as sunk hopelessly in degradation. The Founder of the Christian religion, however, rose above the human philosophers, by proclaiming His mission to the common people, and in this way raising humanity to the standard of an universal brotherhood." The speaker was here stopped by shouts of contradiction; but he produced silence by holding out the Bible, and exclaiming in an impassioned manner, "Philosophy and science can lead man to the intellectual enjoyment of nature and to maxims of wisdom: they can also trouble him with grave perplexities. They teach him that matter is indestructible, and that there is a constant restoring of the face of nature; and in this way they raise in his mind the important questions, 'Are my intellectual powers to be destroyed while matter only undergoes a change?' and 'If a man die shall he live again?' You who reject this Book look down into the grave and discover a darkness which can be felt but not penetrated. We, however, who accept this revelation, look into its darkness and discover flashes of celestial glory which make a passage-way to an immortality of blessedness. The song of victory over death belongs to the Christian philosopher, who, looking into the grave, exclaims with joy, 'The Lord has risen indeed, and because He lives I shall live also.'"

As the speaker resumed his seat there was a great sensation among the infidels. All had listened with breathless attention to his closing remarks, but the old free-thinkers regarded him with angry looks, while the young men cheered heartily. It was some minutes before a member rose to reply, and he did not grapple with the question; he rather railed at the man with the Book, and gave an opinion that "he was an enthusiast, and ought not to be allowed to enter their houses, as his influence in their families and among their neighbours would ruin the secular cause, and promote priestcraft." As this was personal, the Christian visitor rose, and with a pleasant remark to the Chairman left the room.

For a time the infidel society flourished, as its members put forth much inducement and effort, and effected a large circulation of their books, publications, and tracts. The Missionary however fought a foot-to-foot conflict with them, by visiting each member at his house, by changing their books for those containing an antidote, and by a large circulation of well-chosen tracts. As they removed their discussion class to a neighbouring hall, and secured an attendance of from 140 to 180 men, amongst whom were many foreigners, he for fifty-two Saturday evenings attended and took part in the debates. These efforts were made to result in good; the Missionary however had the sorrow of seeing several of his people confirmed in unbelief. One of these was a labourer, who read the "Age of Reason," attended a discussion, and was ever after an enemy to the truth. There were others who used the infidel objections they heard as a means to harden conscience, that they might pursue their evil ways. Among these were two women, called by the people the "'strology woman," and the "imp woman."

The former of these belonged to a gang of fortune-telling impostors, who lived in the poor neighbourhoods of West London. One of these was a scissors-grinder, whose wife was a mulatto. When travelling with his machine he used to circulate cards among female servants, with his address, and the announcement that his wife "repaired parasols and cut cards." Another of the party was a vulgar over-dressed man, who styled himself "professor," and kept a magic mirror, to which silly girls were attracted by the promise of a peep at their future partners. The "'strology woman" assisted those persons when so pressed with business as to require aid, and she did a little lying on her own account among a lower class of dupes. The room at the corner of the Court was suited for her black-art purposes, as persons could slip in unnoticed, and there was no passage for other lodgers. She was about forty years of age, and unmarried. She only received her inquirers after six in the evening, and then she dressed in a gaudy kind of Eastern costume, with fantastic head-dress, and large coral necklace, from which was suspended a bunch of heavy charms. The front was the waiting room, and the back was the audience chamber. This latter was well furnished and strangely decorated. Over the mantle-shelf was a badly painted chart of the twelve signs of the zodiac, and at the side a picture of Daniel's vision of the four beasts. Upon the table was a Prayer-Book, several well-worn packs of cards, a celestial globe, and a number of "nativity" papers, with space for filling in. At the side was a small deal table covered with bottles and powder papers, containing marvellous novelties for her foolish "inquirers." "Fate powders (made of brick dust), with directions for use, so as to produce dreams of the future,"—threepence. "Compression of the damask rose, to give to the face a not-to-be-resisted charm" (rouge and lard in small pill box),—sixpence. "The spirit of love: a fascination" (common scent in small bottle), tenpence; and other articles of equal attraction. The woman boasted that among the girls who thronged to consult her were many respectable young women, to whom she had spoken and given cards in the parks and streets. At first she avoided the Missionary, and when he succeeded in speaking to her she listened with marked respect; his faithfulness however very soon produced a rupture, and it happened in this way. One evening a group of poor girls assembled, before the woman, who was from home, returned to open the door. The Missionary, who was passing, gave tracts, and explained to them the sin and folly of consulting a wicked woman about the future, which was only known to the Almighty. While he was speaking the "'strology woman" came up, and the girls in their confusion scampered away. To his surprise she asked him into her consulting room, and in a bland, deceptive tone remonstrated with him for interfering with her affairs. "I will," said the Visitor, "answer you out of this Holy Bible, that you may know that it is the great God, and not myself, speaking to you." And then he opened it and read, "When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand."

"Them girls," she continued, "them silly girls like to be befooled, and none of 'em 'ardly believes the cards when I cuts 'em, and what I says about their stars and nativities; but it amuses 'em, and does 'em no harm."

The pages of the Book were turned over, and the words read, "Ye shall not steal, neither deal falsely, neither lie one to another." But she added in a softer tone of voice, "Astrology is true, as it says in the Bible of the stars, that 'they are given for signs,' and that 'He gives wisdom to understand secrets;' and that is why the Professor has a Prayer-Book, and I has one here, that they may feel that it comes of religion; and it does lots of good, and makes 'em steady and religious like, and it's no sort of harm."

The leaves of the Book were again turned over, and the Scripture read: "O full of all subtlety and all mischief, thou child of the devil, thou enemy of all righteousness, wilt thou not cease to pervert the right way of the Lord?" As the Book was closed a frown gathered upon her face, and springing from her chair she, with awful imprecations, ordered the reader out, telling him "that he was a deceiver, as lots of people in the Court knew that the Bible was a lying Book."

The "imp woman" was quite a different style of person. She was of middle age, and had three miserable little children dependent upon her, as her husband had absconded. These, with several others whom she borrowed as business required, provided a good living, as she supplied several of the low theatres with imp children, used in pantomimes and plays to represent huge frogs, cats, and other animals, also angels and goblins. She was a large consumer of gin; and it was well known that she gave abundance to her children, to stop their growth, as they decreased in value as they increased in size. Employers at the theatres used to come to fit the skins and to instruct the children in their duties. These were of the most ludicrous kind, and her boy of six did the monkey so well that for two Christmas seasons he earned a pound a week. This training in the skins was painful until the children got "into shape" as it was called. One afternoon the Missionary approached the door, which was partly open, and was startled by the stifled sobbing of the youngest,—a tiny girl of not quite five years. Upon entering the room he saw that the sobs proceeded from a blue fiend, which was wagging its forked tail and shaking its bat-wings upon the table, the woman standing over the creature with a cane. "This is shameful," he exclaimed, taking the fiend into his arms; and then he burst the cord, and set the child free. He then turned toward the mother and said severely, "This case was made for the child last year, and if your cruelty in forcing her to move in it was known, you would have six months' hard labour. As this Book says, you must be without natural affection, and it "would be better for you all to go into the workhouse, or to beg your bread, than to live in this way."

"You ain't got no business to come here!" exclaimed the woman in a rage. "And she's a hobstinate hussey, she is; and as for natural affection, there's men better than you as knows as the Bible keeps us down and ain't true. And I does love my children, and I must get a living for 'em, sitewated as I am."

The child trembled, and threw her arms round the neck of her deliverer. To calm them both he said quietly: "You know very well that I am everybody's friend, and I can't help caring for your little children. When the Saviour was on earth He blessed little dears like this, and we who know the Bible to be true must love and care for them."

As he paused she burst out crying, and the child, seeing that the storm was over, sprang into her arms, hugging and kissing her in a most affectionate manner. It was a touching sight, and cleared the way for an important conversation. The mother admitted that the health of the children was suffering from their training and exposure to the night air when returning from the theatres, and upon the visitor promising to place her eldest boy, aged seven years, into a Refuge, she with evident gratitude promised "to give up the imp business, and to be a Christian, and to work her fingers to the bone for her poor forsaken children." The little people evidently understood and believed her, as they clapped their hands with delight, and danced round the room after their departing friend.

Among the group of broken-down men who made the tramp's lodging-house their home, was a decrepit person who had evidently turned sixty years of age. His companions always addressed him as "Strong Bill," a name so opposite to his appearance as to require an explanation. This was given one winter's day as the Reader of the Book sat with several of them before the kitchen fire. A stranger entered who, after depositing several pockets full of broken victuals upon the table, approached the fire and stopped a serious conversation with the exclamation, "Well, if it ain't Strong Bill—haven't seen you, old fellow, for years. How are you getting on?" The man of powerful name shook his head, struck his breast, and in a sorrowful tone replied, "Very queer, very, not the same man as I was. Tell this 'ere gent, Bobby, 'cause as how he wouldn't take it in if I said it myself, what I did when I was a young chap—how I was known all over London as 'the strong man,' how I dressed tight and carried two weights, each a real hundred, about with me, and as how I used to get rings of people round me by throwing up the weights and catching 'em like baby balls. Didn't I get lots of money, that's all; but it's all up now, it's all up." The stranger readily confirmed this statement, and enlarged upon the feats of strength once performed by his old acquaintance. "It's a great thing to have a well-built frame, and a man ought to rejoice and thank God when he feels as strong as a lion," observed the Reader; "but the inside strength is best of all; we are weak creatures—the strongest of us, without it," and then he with feeling read and commented upon the words: "Blessed is the man whose strength is in Thee." "I knows nothing about that 'ere," said 'Strong Bill;' "but I em a weak sinner, I em a bad lot." "Then come to my meeting to-morrow evening, and I will read and talk about 'strength and weakness.'" "We will, master," several exclaimed. They came, and in his weakness the once strong man was made glad to hear of Him who in mercy strengthens weak sinners with the mightiness of God.

In this way ignorance and infidelity, in their varied forms, were met and grappled with; and though disappointments and annoyances were of daily occurrence, there were at times gracious and unexpected proofs of blessing. The most pleasing of these occurred one morning as the Missionary was passing down the Court. The young infidel, who had for several weeks treated him with reserve, opened his window, and handing him a parcel of books and publications, said with a tremulous voice, "I believe, sir, upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and have laid down my weapons of rebellion; and in proof of it I give you these books, which have damaged my own soul, and by which I have injured others." This confession of faith so surprised the man who had been set for the defence of the truth, that he was unable for the moment to reply; he however took the parcel, and passing into the room seized the hand of the convert and exclaimed, "The Lord Jehovah hath dealt mercifully by you, and blessed be His name."

The door was then closed, and the young man, in reply to inquiries, made the following statement: "Upon the first night of our discussion I was made miserable by your speech, as I saw that ours was a system of negations, and that our pretensions to philosophy and science were but groping and hobbling after revealed truth. Since then I have read many books against the Bible, and at times have been made comfortable in unbelief. Your speech, however, on Saturday week carried conviction to my mind, and the next day I offered up my first prayer for light and salvation. The past week has been one of bitterness, and I yesterday decided to cast myself in simple faith upon the mercy of the Saviour, and to acknowledge Him before men."

Need we add that he was strengthened in the faith of the Gospel, and that his spiritual father knelt with him in prayer. The Missionary hastened over to the Widow's with the parcel, to examine its contents, which were very curious. There were twenty numbers of the Reasoner, many numbers of the Free Thinker and the Red Republican, eighteen copies of "Why should the Atheist fear to die?" several volumes, and among them the long sought for "Age of Reason," the book which had wrought so much evil among the people. The writer has now this book before him, and he never saw a volume more worn. The covers and edges are nearly destroyed with handling, and every page is soiled. The frontispiece, which has been carefully preserved, shows contempt for the ordained servants of God, as the text does of His holy Word. It represents a fat Bishop, running away from a rock upon which the word "reason" is inscribed, with a lamb under one arm and a sheaf of corn under the other. At the meeting that evening the reclaimed infidel sat beside the Widow, and to the astonishment of the people knelt reverently in prayer. At the next discussion he spoke on the Christian side, and boldly acknowledged his change of opinion and his faith in Christ. For several months he gave evidence of a change of heart; and as he expressed a desire further to confess Christ by partaking of the Sacrament, he was introduced to the Rector; and after he had undergone a suitable preparation, the Missionary had the great joy of kneeling with him at the table of the Lord, there to commemorate that blood-shedding whereby alone we obtain remission of our sins, and to receive the richer blessings of His grace.

The Book in the Court:

ITS CERTAIN GOOD.

"As winter streams that long have lain
In icy fetters darkly bound,
When spring returns leap forth again
And fill the vale with song and sound;
So did their spring-time now return,
And love dissolved the icy chain,
And smothered hopes began to burn,
And Jenny was herself again."

Mrs. Sewell.

CHAPTER VI

A PRAISE MEETING—DEATH OF THE WIDOW—JOY OF THE BLESSED—OUT OF THE PRIZE RING—A FAREWELL SPEECH—A FAGGER—A STRANGE PREACHER—DUSTY AND THE FIDDLER—PRAYING IN THE CELL—INDIAN GIRL—GENESA—INFIDEL SOCIETY DISSOLVED—WORKS FOLLOWING—THE BANNER OF LOVE.

The Book in the Court:

ITS CERTAIN GOOD

"My Word that goeth forth out of My mouth, it shall not return unto Me void." Isa. lv. 11.

TIME glided on pleasantly, as time always does when occupied with the activities of the Christian life, and brought the Missionary to the third anniversary of the day upon which he first entered Paradise Court. As that had become a commemorative day of deep interest to many of the inhabitants, their visitor had arranged with them to raise an Ebenezer of praise. As he entered the Place with his old friend the Superintendent, there were pleasant greetings on every hand. The children ran in a flock to meet him; and as if to show the good they had received, the eldest girl of the "translator," who three years before had boasted that "his children knew nothing of superstition," held for his inspection a reward-card which she had received at a Sunday-school. Salvation had come to that man's room, and he rejoiced in it, and his wife and family were made glad. The Court itself gave indications that good influences had been at work there, as its general appearance was cleaner, and window-sills were ornamented with flower-pots and boxes. The gift of a few flowers had given pleasure to those of the poor who had come from the country, and had served as texts for lessons upon the value of pure air and cleanliness; while to many it was a discovery, that though the atmosphere was foul and black, they might have a thing of beauty and fragrance at their windows for part of the year. The appearance of the people was much the same, as all looked poor, and some had tattered clothes; but the police knew that rows had almost ceased, and that there was less depravity and law-breaking than formerly; and better still, the visitor knew that the restoring influence of grace had upraised some of the families, as he could make his way to rooms in which the Bible was valued, and in which its teaching had led to saving faith and holy living. On Sunday morning, as usual, women went to market, and returned with aprons full of provisions; but these were not so numerous as formerly, and those who did so showed their sense of wrong-doing by making excuse for their conduct. A disposition for hearing the truth had been created, as the Widow's room had long become too small, and the meeting had to be removed to double rooms in a street just by. These proofs of blessing had led to arrangements for a praise-meeting in the Widow's room at twelve o'clock, and it was filled with men and women who had managed to spend part of the dinner hour in holy exercise. The hymn, "Praise ye the Lord, 'tis good to raise," was sung; the hundred and forty-fifth Psalm was read, with a short comment upon the words, "All Thy works shall praise Thee, O Lord, and Thy saints shall bless Thee;" and then the language of praise ascended from that poor Court as incense to the throne of heavenly grace. In the evening a tea was given in the meeting-room to the forty persons who usually attended. Two hours were spent in social intercourse, and two in hymn-singing, prayer, and the hearing of suitable addresses. The Wesleyan and Independent ministers took part in the proceedings; and when the Rector, who had joined the party, pronounced the Benediction, the people separated, praising and blessing God.

There was only one thing which cast a shade over the happy meeting, and that was the state of the Widow's health. All noticed that while her happiness was intense, her words were few; and there were grave shakings of the head, and anxious remarks about her not having been like herself for some time past. This was evident when, as usual, upon the following Wednesday she took dinner with the Missionary. This arrangement had been made out of consideration to her, and in order that they might consult together about the details of the work. That hour of conference with his wife and the Widow was of importance, as a knowledge of individual character (so valuable to those who would be wise in soul-winning) was obtained, and plans of action arranged. Upon her way back to the Court she was silent, and leant heavily upon the arm of her friend. On the following Wednesday she was unable to leave her room, so part of the evening was spent with her in sweet converse about the covenant which is ordered in all things and sure. At parting she said softly, "I am so happy, and so close to heaven that a waft would take me in;" and then after a pause she added, "To see Jesus: the fairest among ten thousand!" After this she grew more feeble; but when her friend called in one evening she seemed better, though drowsy. He therefore offered up a short prayer and left. Early in the morning two women came in haste to his house, to say that the Widow was dead. He hurried back with them, and found the Place in a state of commotion. The people were standing in groups, and round the door was a company of weeping women. He passed them, and with soft tread entered the chamber of death, as he felt the solemn influence which pervaded the room. In the stillness of the night the angels had been there, and had taken a redeemed soul back with them into the everlasting habitations of the blessed. The shutters had been partly opened, and a gleam of light was thrown upon the bed, where lay, as though prepared for burial, the remains of the soldier's widow. Taking the icy-cold hand affectionately in his, he gazed into the face, which appeared to be set in calm sleep, and felt that no pains of death had been permitted to distress the holy dying of the aged saint. Upon the table lay the open Bible, with her spectacles upon a page of the Psalms, and near them her quarterly ticket, with "Ruth Peters" written upon it. The doctor, who had seen her the day before, said that an inquest would not be necessary, as he could give a proper certificate; the remains were therefore left in the care of several women, who loved her as a mother.

The same kind hand which had supplied the needs of the Widow, provided a suitable funeral. Ah, and that was an honourable burial, for she was carried to the grave by six men of the Court, who left their work for the purpose; and as the coffin was borne through the Place, followed by several of the neighbours, with the Missionary as chief mourner, the people made great lamentation over her. And when the earth was dropped into the grave, with the solemn utterance, "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust," all felt that at the resurrection of the just that body would be raised and made like unto Christ's glorious body.

The Missionary hastened from the funeral to meet the County Member, as he had arranged that evening to visit the district. The honourable gentleman had been so pressed to place boys into "Homes," that he decided to see the people for whom he was asked to do so much. In the evening, when they entered the Court, there was, for so crowded a place, deep silence; and as they passed from room to room, they had to speak words of comfort to the people who were sorrowing for the loss of their friend. And they were sweet words of heavenly consolation which the stranger uttered. As he left the Place he leant for a moment upon a post at the entrance, and said thoughtfully, "I wish you had told me about that Widow, as I should like to have known her." Soon after he sent the Missionary a book in memory of his sainted wife ("Our Friends in Heaven"), and wrote in it, "Not death, she said, but life, life, life, eternity!" And when the days of his sojourn were accomplished, he with like words crossed to the celestial side of the river. And may he not know the Widow now? May it not be one of the joys of the heavenly state to hold sweet converse with saints about whom we have only heard upon earth? May it not indeed be an employment of enduring delight to be continually enlarging our acquaintance,—to know and to be known of the innumerable company of the redeemed?

The removal of the Widow was a felt loss, but the bereavement was the means of leading several of the poor to yield themselves to God. The worker had lost his right hand, and yet the work was made to prosper. For several months the attendance at the meeting increased, though there was a constant drafting away to the regular ministry. At one of these meetings he took for exposition the speech of St. Paul to the elders of the Church at Ephesus. At the close he referred for the second time to the words, "Therefore watch, and remember that for the space of three years I ceased not to warn every one night and day with tears;" and after an effort gently to break the news, he said abruptly, "I am about to leave you, as the Lord in His providence has made it plain that He has important work for me to do elsewhere." This announcement brought the meeting to a close, as the people left their seats and surrounded him with expressions of real sorrow.

For some days after there was earnest visiting in the Court, as the Missionary felt the responsibility of speaking to the people for the last time; and as a proof of the power of domiciliary visitation in overcoming opposition to the truth, not one person, from the beginning to the end of the Place, uttered an offensive word; while many gave him a hearty welcome and a tearful good-bye. Take for instance, the "prize-fighter," who had not quite recovered from a successful pugilistic encounter with a Birmingham man, for ten pounds a side, as his face was bruised and discoloured, and his right arm disabled. He received the visitor with what to him was a painful smile, and then in a confidential manner said, "It tain't sir, as I 'em a-gettin soft, that I've resoluted; but I haven't got over that backhander you gave me out of that Book, as was, 'Will a man fight his Maker?' and the way you closed in was stunnin; and says I to myself, I 'em knocked over the ropes, and I'll let the whiskers grow, and take to costering; that's summut, ain't it?" "The wearing of whiskers," was the reply, "will put you out of the prize-ring; and you will find that there is more happiness in getting an honest living with the blessing of Almighty God upon you, than there can be in wearing the 'Champion Belt of England' with His curse." "Haven't I wished for him to be out of the magic circle," exclaimed his wretched, vulgar-looking wife, "as you see the feeling is awful when your 'usband is going to be pitched into and knocked to a mummy; and you must be a fighter's lawful wife to know the feelin when it's a-goin on. If you drinks 'ard, why you can't leach 'im and poultice 'im, as is a tender job: and if he's beat, you gets nuffink; and when he beats, you treats ring pals and wagabons; and the money it tain't no good, and it tain't Christian-like as you says; and if you'll stick to him, though you are a-goin, I'll wade through seas of blood for you, as the sayin is." Their friend smiled graciously at this assurance, and then taking a seat, opened the Book, and read to them about Him who was wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities.

The day before leaving, the Missionary announced his intention of bidding the people farewell at six o'clock next evening in the open Court, and of then introducing his successor to them. As at the appointed time they entered the Place, it was so densely packed that they with difficulty pressed to the bend in the middle. A chair was handed from a window, and as their friend stepped upon it the murmur of voices burst into a loud cheer. Looking round, he saw an expression of sorrow upon that mass of upturned faces, and near him stood the reclaimed infidel, the fighting man, the chanter, Tom and Bess, and others for whom he had a Christian affection. For a few moments he remained silent with emotion, and then with faltering and afterwards with firmer voice said, "I think, my good friends, that I have shaken hands and said Good-bye to each of you in your rooms; but I have thought it well that we should have a last meeting, and together ask our heavenly Father to bless and to take care of us. The four years I have gone in and out among you have been years of happiness; at first we did not understand each other, but from the time you discovered that my one object in life was to lead you to the Lord Jesus Christ that you might be made good and happy, you have regarded me as your friend. Some of you have believed to the saving of your souls. (A cry of "Bless the Lord.") Let me, as your father in Christ, beseech of you to regard this Holy Book as you do your necessary food,—to live lives of daily, constant prayer, always looking to Jesus. There are others here who respect me as the King's messenger, but who do not care for the message of a Saviour's mercy, which I have delivered to them. You are going as fast as time can carry you to the grave,—to hell: faster and faster from heaven. Listen to my last words, as I shall meet you when the dead, small and great, shall stand before the judgment seat of Christ. Turn from your evil ways, from your drunken habits, your Sabbath breaking, your iniquities. And in the name of Jesus, because He died upon the cross to save you, ask Almighty God to pardon and to give you His Holy Spirit, that you may be Christians indeed." And then raising his pocket Bible, and looking up to heaven, he continued, "Let us all so live that we may meet in glory: the Widow is there, and some out of this place have already followed her. Let us hate sin, trust in the Saviour, and press on for the crown of life." Here the emotion of the people became so great that several exclaimed, "We will," and others "May the Lord have mercy upon us." The speaker then said, "I will now introduce your new Missionary, by asking him to read something to us out of the good old Book; you will then see him and hear his voice: when he has done, I will offer prayer; after that he will stand in my place to you. Receive him as one sent from God, to show unto you the way of eternal life, and prove your love to me by treating him as my friend."

The stranger then took his place upon the chair, and read the hundred and third psalm, after which the old friend rose to offer the parting prayer. As the words, "Let us pray," rung through the Court, battered hats and fur caps were removed, so all the men stood uncovered, and several of the women knelt down; while at the windows and in the crowd, many covered their faces with their hands. The prayer was short but earnest. At its close the word "Amen" was uttered so loud and clear, that it seemed to come from a church congregation, rather than from that strange gathering of worshippers; and after the Benediction the word was uttered with still deeper feeling; and then, amidst the tears, the thanks, and blessings of the people, and humbled before God, because of the mission blessings received, the man with the Book passed out of Paradise Court.

He did not, however, and has not to this day, lost interest in the people. At intervals he visited in the place with the Missionary, but on each occasion found some of his old friends gone, and at length, his acquaintance there became very small. Among those who remained, was drunken (now sober) Sammy. He became a member of the Baptist chapel, and never broke his pledge. His attendance at the means of grace and at temperance meetings was regular, and he won the respect of Church members and abstaining companions. When the friend who had stopped him in the road to ruin called, he treated him with a respect approaching to reverence. He died at the age of seventy, after a short illness, in which he gave evidence of meetness for heaven.

Persons who have left the Court, have frequently been met with in the streets and elsewhere, and several remarkable proofs of good were in this way brought to light; as, for instance, in the case of a little deformed man of uncertain age, strange expression of countenance, and rather weak intellect, who shared a back attic with a crossing sweeper, and paid one shilling a week rent. He called himself a "fagger," and lived as quite a number of men do, by searching the streets of London by night and at early morning for lost money and property. These "faggers," may be seen walking at a steady pace, or trotting gently, glancing keen looks along the road and pavement. They always pause at corners where omnibuses stop; at the doors of theatres and other likely places. In the season they all make for the "Haymarket," as the place where valuables such as rings may be found, and when the "cafés" close, they make for home, searching as they go.

Our "fagger," as a child of the night, was rarely seen by day. He was indeed quite a recluse, as he shrunk from the derision to which his unsightly appearance subjected him from the children and his ignorant neighbours. So they only saw him when he shuffled out at night, or trotted back early in the morning. He for months refused the Missionary admission to the room, and was angry when his landlord, the sweeper, insisted upon receiving the visits, and he used on these occasions to seat himself upon his stool in the corner with a sulky expression of face. After a time his confidence was obtained, and it was then discovered that the poor simple man was utterly ignorant of saving truth. He had entered upon life as a "City Arab," could not read, had never been into a place of worship, and had not even heard the name of the Saviour. Little did the sower think, as the seed of the kingdom fell so freely from his hand, that it was to find good ground in the heart of the poor "fagger." He became deeply interested in the readings from the Bible, and at the farewell visit he drew his stool nearer, and his eyes brightened as the sweeper and himself listened to St. John's narrative of the crucifixion.

Nearly a year had passed after this visit when a group of eight or ten persons assembled in Oxford Circus. It was long after midnight, and bitterly cold. The Missionary who was passing, approached, and two policemen to whom he was known, informed him that the well-dressed man who lay upon the kerb, with a frightful gash upon the forehead, was in liquor, and had fallen against the lamp-post. As the man was stunned, if not seriously injured, the police were advised to take him to the hospital, and one of them left to get a stretcher for that purpose. By this time a number of depraved men and women had gathered round, some of whom uttered ribald jokes, one woman suggesting "that as the gent was dead, they had better search his pockets for money, with which to drink to his memory." "And if dead," exclaimed the Missionary in a voice so loud and solemn that the people were startled: "if dead, his eternal state is fixed; the day of mercy over; and there is a fearful meeting with the Judge of heaven and earth." For a few moments there was silence, when a man near the lamp said, "He knows nothing about it, as no one ever came back from the other world to tell us." Before a reply could be given, an odd-looking little man who had pressed into the circle, exclaimed, "He does know: he's got it in his Book. They nailed Jesus to the cross, they did; He got out of the grave, He did; He's alive a savin' us, He is; it's in the gent's Book, it is: he knows it;" and then the little "fagger," for it was he, trotted away, as if astonished at himself. "That poor man is right," said the Missionary, "The Lord Jesus is alive to save sinners." No more could be said, as the policeman arrived with the stretcher, and as they bore the injured man away, some of the crowd followed, but many who were sinners remained to hear the Gospel more fully.