rich man, and I will just tell you what I do, guv'ner. I get up early and go to the stable and clean my horse-for you know that must be done and do you know, directly I open the door, my horse looks round, begins making a noise, and I believe if he could speak he would say, 'I know you are not going to take me out to-day, for this is Sunday; and then he begins prancing, and I really believe, guv'ner, he begins to know all about it; and then I pats him down and tells him he is going to have a day's rest, as well as his master, and then he begins again, so that I have a job to keep him still; and strange to say, he only does this on Sunday mornings. I then go home and clean myself and go to church, aud again in the evening, and I assure you, I am all the better man for it; and when Monday comes, I get up quite fresh, and my horse is in order for work, and somehow or other I do not wait long on the rank before I get a job."

Visitors among the night cabmen pursue an arduous calling, and witness some remarkable scenes. Their constituents number a thousand men or more, all of a somewhat lower standard than their comrades of the day. Many of the drivers are aged men of quiet, respectable habits, and very teachable. In the night, too, perhaps more often than in the day, are depraved characters met with-men who have abandoned themselves to vice or gross sensual indulgence, and these stand aside by side with others whose only disqualifications for higher duties are their years and bodily infirmities. "Some kind friends have sent me to visit you," was the salutation of a missionary, when first appointed to the work of night visitation. "May God Almighty bless them," was the reply of several voices. The evangelist may be found on the stands even on cold, stormy nights, talking to men of Christ and salvation, and some will invite him to step inside a cab, where, shielded from the weather, both may speak at leisure. In coffee-rooms and public bars he is found, and years ago, before the new Act for closing refreshment houses came into force, he addressed many motley congregations between sunset and sunrise. He has had a congregation numbering between fifty and sixty persons, and composed of fallen women, cabmen, pugilists, mock niggers, thieves, low actors, and homeless outcasts. The people encountered at such times are civil and even attentive, and sufficiently garrulous to speak of their experience without hesitation. One will tell you without either shame or bravado that he has been imprisoned a dozen times. Another will confess to having received a university education. Yet another will tell of a sister, who, living far away in the country, writes him religious letters. Perhaps even a barman who remembers the lessons of youth in the rural Sunday-school will give his good wishes to the work. This is indeed a labour one may desire to see prosper; for as one far gone in depravity said, "If you do good to but one such as we are in a month, it will reward you." And speaking of his own work among the outcasts of the night, a missionary says, "I meet with no Pharisees. None attempt to justify their conduct. All I have to do is to direct them to him who came into the world to save the lost."

Thus on summer nights, when the delicious atmosphere tempts idlers to linger in the open air, as well as in the trying winter time, when even hard-pressed casuals, as they sup upon "toke and skilly,"

bless their luck in having a place to sleep in, when the chill wind thins the streets, and drifts and freezes the snow, the missionary to the night cabmen pursues his way. As he approaches a stand he may be mistaken for a "fare," and though the men may experience momentary disappointment on discovering their mistake, they are sure to give their friend a welcome. There are few places into which that friend cannot enter-places even which are most difficult of access. Because the men experience considerable hardship in not being able legally to procure refreshments between the hours of one and four o'clock in the morning, certain enterprising publicans obligingly risk breaking the law for their own profit and their customers' convenience. "It's all right, guv'ner," said one of the nocturnal brotherhood, at 2.40 a.m., to a landlord, who, while serving refreshments to a famishing crowd, was naturally disconcerted at seeing a stranger with a bundle of tracts and papers enter by the guarded door as if quite familiar with the business. "It's all right, guv'ner; this is a very particular friend of ours, who is out night after night trying to do us good." After so satisfactory an introduction, Mr. Landlord will with seeming grace accept a British Workman. To others not in the secret, and who probably would have preferred not being disturbed, it seems akin to the Eighth Wonder of the World when one goes about talking of religion in the middle of the night. Those who are hospitably disposed, and who consider themselves under an obligation to "pay for anything," make the well-meant and really kind enquiry, "What will you take, sir?" We have heard these offers made to the "tract man," from the bar, but have never known them to be accepted.

When the eagerly-looked-for four a.m. arrives, the houses may legally open their doors, and in the vicinity of the principal railway termini, the coffee-room masters do not wait a minute over the time. The warm, inviting boxes are at once occupied with cold, fasting cabmen, and not unfrequently the night missionary will take his seat with the rest. While the company are drinking their steaming coffee, perhaps a portion of the New Testament is read and explained. Say it is the fifteenth chapter of Luke. "Now, my men, what do you think of it," is asked. "Well, I will tell you what I think of it; it fetched tears from my eyes. When I was a boy at school I learned that chapter. I am just like that young man. But never mind, I shall be better some day, perhaps. It's a long lane that has no turning." This looking forward to "some day" is opposed as unreasonable and unscriptural. To be as wise as the Prodigal Son, we must "arise to-day." Then sympathising sighs come from one and another as a man reminds his companions of a comrade of theirs, who, after having braved the discomforts of the street during a certain night, died while sitting at breakfast when light and comfort came in the morning. A sad story surely, and one full of meaning! "We ought to think of religion more than we do," remarks one. "Ah, that we ought, mate," replies another. The diary of one missionary explains to us the nature of his work in the streets while the great city is asleep, e.g.

"One night we had a fearful storm of thunder and lightning. It was awfully grand, especially the latter. I happened to be at the Great Northern Railway Station, when a large number of cabmen congregated,

and while conversing with them, another cabman came up and said the lightning had struck his horse down, and he was so frightened that he couldn't bear to be alone. The men huddled together fearfully alarmed, the most wicked man the greatest coward, as is always the case.

"At length a man said,

Well, sir, it's awful, ain't it? Do you think

it is anything like the Day of Judgment will be?'

666

No,' said another;

What are you talking about? The Day of Judgment will be worse than that, for the whole world will be burnt: won't it, sir?'

“I said, 'I want to hear some more of your opinions before I give my

answer.'

"Another then said, 'The thunder will be louder than now, because it will wake the dead in their graves. That seems impossible, though, sir; but when you come to think on it, God can do anything. Why, he could blow the world to atoms.'

"The man whose horse had been struck down, said, 'Well, I thought the end of the world had come, and I wasn't prepared for it; that's a fact.'

"Another said, "Then there will be those that be drowned in the sea, I suppose them will come, and all?'

"Several rejoined, Well to be sure; what a lot of people.'

"I then expounded a portion of St. Matthew xxiv. ; 2 Peter iii., and other passages, showing them that the Lord Jesus will descend from heaven with a shout, and all his holy angels with him, and then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory, and before him shall be gathered all nations, and he shall separate them one from another as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats.' I reminded them of the old woman who always said her prayers in a thunderstorm, but at no other time, and of the sailor who only prayed in a storm at sea; and exhorted them to seek a change of heart by repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ."

Such is the nature of Christian work among night cabmen. Prior to the passing of the new Act for closing public-houses between one and four a.m., there were among these nocturnal toilers, more often than now, young men of loose character, who served such thieves as frequented the thronged places of pleasurable resort. A man would thus become the employé of a certain person, and each would become acquainted with the other's ways, and be a party to his doings. The "fare" would be favoured with credit when" out of luck," until such time as he got "a pull." In many instances, however, they who work the night cabs are old and worn-out characters, whose hardships and woful appearance are enough to excite sympathy. Some of them are cripples, and others are afflicted with disease. A man will necessarily take to night work when no longer able to compete with younger rivals in the day trade. Their sufferings in frosty weather are especially severe, while they bravely maintain the struggle to keep home intact. They think any suffering preferable to entering the paupers' "house." "Sir," said one of this class, after receiving a largetype Bible, "My Bible has quite cured me of complaining, for when I read what my Saviour suffered, I feel ashamed to murmur." What the hardships really are, both of the night and day men, can scarce be

realised by the most painstaking fare. Some will for months occupy no other bedroom than their cabs, because able to procure no better accommodation; others, who adopt the system of paying a certain sum per day for their vehicle, will not, during sixteen or eighteen hours' work, receive sufficient to satisfy their master, and so may be compelled to raise money by extraordinary means. A man may even be under the necessity of pawning his clothes in cold weather, as well as other articles sorely needed by wife and children, in order to raise money demanded by his master. The cab and omnibus men deserve Christian sympathy. The expenditure of missionary effort among their ranks will in the longrun prove to be a valuable investment; for in proportion as these indispensable public servants are raised into a better condition will the public be gainers. If the men have earned a bad name, those who employ them have not been entirely faultless. As are the masters such the servants are.

In turning from cab and omnibus men to the police force, we may mark the improvement which has taken place in the men during the last twenty years, for the reform has partly been brought about by the well-directed efforts of Christian workers. The lot of the single policeman is now comparatively luxurious; but times were when the accommodation provided for him by commissioners was both scant and comfortless. The police quarters at the stations were confined, and at the best of seasons were not over clean, while the sleeping apartments were not allowed to be frequented at will. The company of men in each house was allowed only one common place wherein to eat, smoke, dress, and converse. Each man cooked on his own account, and the growth of good temper and courtesy was little favoured when two or more hungry fellows wanted a frying-pan simultaneously, or when the fireplace was not able to contain all the saucepans which required a position at the same time. The weaknesses of the men also appeared on the surface in various ways. Feasts and fasts were partaken of at the same board: one extravagant epicure might be seen taking a pound of beef at a meal, while another, erring in an opposite direction, might dine thrice off a single herring. These inconsistencies no longer characterise the section-houses, and single constables find their lot in London a garden of plenty and enjoyment when compared with the lot of their predecessors. The stations are now remarkable for cleanliness. There are washing-rooms and reading-rooms, while the old system of disputing about culinary utensils is superseded by a substantial daily repast, prepared by a competent cook, of which all the men partake at a fixed charge, the cost bearing a favourable comparison with that of the old system.

The constable on duty and the constable off duty so far differ as to constitute separate studies of the same person. It is said that a policeman who would attain perfection in his profession should not be a native of London, seeing a Londoner may be tempted to counterfeit sharpness or sagacity while lacking those natural gifts. Let your model policeman be a native of a provincial town, a person of respectable birth and of some education, and he will not be likely to disappoint his instructors A writer in The Quarterly Review, who visited the drill at Scotland Yard, once wrote:

6

"The eye had only to run along the 'gamut of men,' if we may so term the fresh recruits drawn up before us, in order to see from how many ranks of society the police brigade is reinforced. Smock-frocks, shooting-coats, frock-coats, tail-coats, some seedy and worn, some still good and fresh, denoted the condition in life of their owners, and the necessities to which some of them were reduced. Young men flushed with hope come from the provinces to push their fortunes, and after a brief struggle find themselves stranded, and accept this, the most readily obtainable respectable service. The policemen perfect in their natural drill next undergo a mental one. Drawn up in a line, a sergeant or inspector questions them as to their duties. Supposing you see two men fighting, what would you do?' Or 'If you were to see a house on fire, how would you act? Sometimes the constable addressed answers the question, but more generally his interrogator does it for him. When drilled and catechised to the full pitch he doffs his plain clothes for a uniform, and comes out in the full bloom of a policeman. But he is still a neophyte, and before he is entrusted with a beat he attends at a police court in order to watch the manner in which trained constables conduct themselves in the witness-box. Having learned to give evidence clearly and briefly, to listen to ludicrous scenes without smiling, and to hear bad language with imperturbable patience, he is marched off to the division in which he has elected to serve, and with his armlet on his wrist, his staff in one pocket, and his rattle in the other, he patrols his beat."

One autumn evening it was our privilege to spend some hours in the section-house of a western suburb under most favourable circumstances. It was the day for holding a sort of annual festival, and the private part of the house was quite alive with pleasant-looking people in holiday attire. It was also the first and the last time of our listening to the spoken words of the Hon. and Rev. Baptist Noel. The wives and children of the constables gathered in strong force, and were in cheerful mood befitting the occasion. Though the supply of tea, cake, and bread-and-butter was large, it was not larger than the demand, and the kind city missionary who appeared on the scene as the general in command, found his energies heavily taxed in superintending the repast of his numerous dependents. There was the usual proportion of laughing and chaffing, but many of the company discussed graver matters while attending to the good things on the table.

What observer of life present at that memorable meeting could ever forget the event of the evening-the entry into the room of Mr. Noel? How sweetly that kind, placid face could yield to a smile in acknowledgment of kindly attention from those for whom he was ever willing to spend his strength. Those men who were acquainted with their visitor were evidently in love with his character, and our then newly-won acquaintance, the city missionary present, assured us that he believed Baptist Noel to be the greatest man in England. The address which followed was full of wisdom, admirably adapted to the occasion. "If I were a policeman, I should like to go well armed." All he said turned on that aphorism, and a deep impression was produced by the unmistakable earnestness of the gifted speaker.

Of the manner in which Christian work was begun among the police