as they are, they can speak a good word for the well-remembered Henry Pearson. "Polly Pond," as "a lady's book," finds favour among them, as do other similar productions. An old fellow comfortably reclining on a bench shows a disposition to be boastful of his good sight and reading powers, but is soon compelled to apologise for his inability to spell out a couple of lines from "Poor Tom." Yes, it is true that he is growing old, and his eyes are becoming treacherous, and so, holding the tract at arm's length, he remarks, "Well, sir, yer see, I've 'ad a little beer to-night." How much drink under such circumstances might be accounted "a little," it was not possible to learn, though his wife admitted, "He've 'ad a good deal, sir." They were not willing to admit that they ever committed any flagrant sin. "Though we hev a little beer, we don't do no 'arm; we don't thieve, nor rob nobody," remarked the woman who spoke before. "Ah, but drunkards shall not inherit the kingdom of God," replies my companion.

As we elbow our way about the crowd in the hot, smoky atmosphere, the tracts continue to be civilly received, and remarks, both humorous and otherwise, are offered for our enlightenment and entertainment. One dark-complexioned gentleman, whose height does not greatly exceed five feet, evinces considerable irritation at being publicly pointed out as "an old snob." Then followed honourable explanations in his youthful days that man was taken by the hand and started in life by the good missionary Henry Pearson, and Henry Pearson placed him at the shoemaking craft, besides giving him much valuable instruction and advice. It may not be desirable to have one's private history proclaimed from the housetops, or what may be equivalent, to have one's secrets published in a thronged beerhouse on a Saturday night, but with a look combining scorn and injured innocence, the late "snob" insists that "a man must rise." Had his knowledge been greater he might have named several worthy men who have risen, and risen none the less honourably because they also once were called "snobs." Go where you may, you find members of two of our most useful crafts, those of the tailor and the shoemaker, subjected to odium on account of their calling. What is the reason for this?

We did not conclude our evening round without gaining at least one welcome piece of information. Itinerants who visit among the lower orders in the manner described have abundant reason for encouragement, and have grounds for the hope of God's one day reviving his work in the world. How must civilisation have progressed even among the masses since the times of early Methodism, when ribald mobs sought every opportunity of opposing and maltreating those who desired their present and eternal good. The very words of Scripture are now spoken or read in public-houses by men whom even the most depraved respect for their work's sake. To accompany one of these evangelists for the purpose of watching his work is sure to excite your admiration, and may also prove bracing to your finer instincts, by strikingly revealing the hidden power lying within the words of Inspiration. In our late visit we were more than well received, and more than civilly treated. The worth of holy things was openly

recognised. One brawny fellow, who begged for a copy of "Mother's Last Words," stoutly maintained that that highly popular tract was the best thing in our language, and a production which no man, however steeled his heart, could listen to without tears; a rash affirmation, perhaps, as coming from one whose acquaintance with literature was not of the broadest kind. Who, however, could do otherwise than respect such a man's opinion? I was glad to hear that preference for a good little book boldly spoken in a London beershop, at 10.45 p.m., on a Saturday night.

It is not too much to say that the most demoralizing scene we visited during the entire evening was a music-hall in a main thoroughfare. There, indeed, we saw an agency in active working order, warranted to ruin young persons surely and swiftly. The confusion and noise in the gilded and expensively-decorated bar were indescribable, while in the great hall, the admission to which was one shilling, there were, perhaps, over a thousand persons present. There were brilliant lights, sensual scenery, skilfully-performed music, and questionable songs, besides intoxicants ad libitum, such as each chose to order. What mofe potent means could be devised for encompassing the moral overthrow of the young, especially of inexperienced and unsuspecting girls, who are too often blindly led into the fatal arena? One need not hesitate in denouncing tavern music-halls as breeders of moral pestilence, and as an abuse of the liberty awarded by the State to licensed victuallers. Undoubtedly such places should be summarily dealt with by the legisla ture. In no well-ordered community should low concert rooms and drinking-saloons be allowed to combine and work together in their work of corrupting the people; and were the licensing powers of each parish handed over to the vestry, those whose families are imperilled by the present state of things might have a chance of checking a growing evil. Very few publicans, comparatively, have music licenses, so that, happily, these remarks affect but a small section of the trade. Concerning the Christian visitation in general of their houses, I repeat that the mission is a noble attempt to reach the masses, many of whom, perhaps, would not be easily reached by any other road. The public needs only to become more fully acquainted with the working of the public-house mission, to award it their support, their sympathy, and, above all, their prayers.

Cannock Chase.

TWO DAYS AT THE CAMP, BY W. R. SELWAY.

O long as it is necessary to maintain a large number of men in a highly civilized community, whose labour, such as it is, shall be wholly of an unrem une rative character, and who form a class separate and apart from the rest of the people, with hopes and aims differing from that of their fellows, and maintained at the public expense for a definite duty, it is of the highest importance that not only should the implements with which they are equipped be of the best and most serviceable

character, but the men themselves trained in all that pertains to their calling. Hence it becomes necessary to mass thousands of men, drawn from the lower grades of society, in one spot, that they may learn more effectively the arts of their profession. Cannock Chase, to the eye of a civilian, seems admirably adapted for such a purpose; its hills and valleys and broad plains, more or less undulating, covered with heather, the bilberry, bunchberry, fern, and other moorland plants, afford no indication of the rich mineral treasures lying deep below, which at various spots are being brought to the surface for distribution over the country. The sands and gravels, relics of former sea-beds and beaches, afford admirable drainage for the surface-water, while many streams furnish the necessary supplies for the soldier and his steed.

On the occasion of our visit, we found the camp in two divisions, with a very considerable stretch of heath between them. The bellshaped tents, arranged in beautifully regular lines, with the horses of the cavalry tethered in long, straight rows, with the artillery, the control, the engineers, and the hospital tents, &c., form a picture so novel and striking as not readily to be forgotten; but our presence in so unwonted a scene was not to witness military display, or to be initiated into the mysteries of a soldier's career, so much as to ascertain what, if any, provision had been made for the moral and intellectual welfare of the men who were thus to spend a month away from their usual haunts, to undergo a good deal of physical labour, but to have much idle time. hanging upon their hands. The soldier carries no more in his kit than he can well avoid, as his time is to be spent on the march or in the camp. When not on duty he is cleaning his accoutrements, lounging in his tent, or, it must be said, too often drinking in the canteens, or away from his officer's eye, in the beer-houses of the neighbouring town, which on Sunday evening presented an aspect but little creditable to the British soldier or to modern civilisation. It must not, however, be supposed that there are not bright exceptions, as we found a number of the Guards met together every evening for prayer under a hedge-side near their camp; but the only provision made by the authorities, beyond the daily supply of food, is that of the regimental canteen, into two of which we looked, and could discover nothing for the men's comfort but barrels of beer. In the midst, however, of the principal camp we discovered a small colony of tents; one, a kind of shop or canteen, where hot tea and coffee were being rapidly disposed of, eatables of a plain but good kind, lemonade and other similar drinks, needles and thread, paper and envelopes, and other multifarious articles useful to the soldier, were being sold. Alongside was another, having the inscription, "For soldiers only;" but obtaining permission to enter, we found a number of rudely-constructed tables and seats, the former being covered with the London daily newspapers, the Illustrated London News, Graphic, &c., numerous religious and temperance publications, sundry materials for pleasant but harmless games, inkstands, pens, &c. In connection with these tents were three other smaller ones, used as store and sleeping-places for the attendants, while in the open ground at the rear, large boilers and a camp oven were in active operation under the care of a stalwart cook, who, like his comrades, had been a soldier; and near the entrance to the reading or recreation tent

was a covered van, such as is used by travelling gipsies, a most unusual appendage to a camp, in which dwelt the presiding genius and active spirit of the whole, in the person of Miss Robinson, of Guildford, who having spent a month in this van amid the rain and fog of Dartmoor, during which time her clothing was never thoroughly dry, had come on to this camp, and was now happily rejoicing in sunshine. Miss Robinson, "the soldier's friend," had kindly placed herself at the disposal of the National Temperance League, whose committee was very desirous to do something for the comfort and welfare of the men while in camp, and to counteract in some manner the terrible temptations to which they are exposed. The Duke of Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief, kindly gave his unqualified authority, and ordered that the generals commanding should afford every facility; thus, probably for the first time in the history of the British army, has a civilian establishment, unconnected in any way with the War Office, and for the sale only of unintoxicatiug drinks, been permitted to enter a camp. The Temperance League provided the funds and arranged as far as it could be done in London, all the preliminaries, but the work could not have been carried out without Miss Robinson's devoted zeal; her previous knowledge of the wants and feelings of the soldier enabling her to do just what was required, and at the right time. Not only have the tents (there is one in each camp) furnished supplies of food and drink, but, by means of a waggon, large quantities of hot coffee have been served as early as five o'clock, to regiments lying from two to three miles away, to the great comfort of both officers and men. At Dartmoor, as at Cannock, the Temperance tent has been used each Sunday evening for divine service or prayer-meetings; while during the day, Bibles, religious publications and books are upon the tables for the free use of any soldier who chooses to come: on our visit, about two o'clock on Sunday, it was nearly full of men, either reading or writing. The Post Office has a receiving-place at the camp, but refused Miss Robinson's request to issue Post Office Orders, and as soldiers appear to be unable to keep money in their pockets, it became necessary that she should herself undertake the duty of remitting money for the men. From Dartmoor more than one hundred pounds was sent from a great number of men, some of the amounts being very small; the amount sent from Cannock bids fair to be even greater. These sums have for the most part, doubtless, been saved from the public-house. The confidence of the soldier in his friend is shown by his bringing his open letter with the money he wishes to send, which Miss Robinson takes to the town, obtains the order, encloses it, secures, and posts. Thus, what the Times denominated "a novel experiment," has been most successfully carried out; the men have been provided with creature comforts of a wholesome character, with pleasant recreation, moral training, and spiritual guidance. The cost in money has been large, that of time and energy has been greater; but then it has demonstrated that the soldier, like every other human being, is to a great extent a creature of circumstances, and is willing to avail himself of help when it is offered to him.

We found on the Sunday that divine worship was conducted in the camp by ministers of the Established Church, by the Wesleyan

chaplain, and by a Presbyterian; the Roman Catholics being marched to a hapel of that persuasion in the town. At head-quarters the sight was brilliant and imposing as the men marched up to attend service upon a piece of tolerably level greensward, having in the background the general's tent, and behind a steep sloping bank, forming a kind of amphitheatre, covered with civilians. The Life Guards in their bright and glittering helmets, headed by their band, playing martial strains, were the first to arrive; these were quickly succeeded by men of various regiments, until some thousand or twelve hundred men were massed around three sides of a square: at the upper and open side a small table, brought from a neighbouring tent and covered with a railway rug, indicated the preacher's position; on either side were the respective commanding officers and their suites, in very varied but strikingly brilliant uniforms, while all around was a dense mass of civilian onlookers, and away almost as far as the eye could reach, stretched over the Chase, the white tents of the First Division of the camp, amid which were here and there dense masses of horses, where the Artillery, Life Guards, Engineers, &c., had their quarters. The clergyman, a reverend canon from the neighbouring cathedral, whose name it is not necessary to mention, having taken his stand at the improvised desk, commenced the services in a full, sonorous voice, which augured well that every one in the great crowd would hear. Two or three campstools had been found for as many ladies, all the rest of the congregation, of course, standing the whole time: on a previous Sunday the worthy bishop had kept them in that position for more than an hour and a half. Having a place immediately behind the preacher, we were enabled carefully to observe the men, very many of whom appeared to join with great interest in the service, which, it is needless to say, was conducted somewhat after the manner adopted in churches, the preacher making a most judicious selection from the Book of Common Prayer, and reading with emphasis and feeling a chapter from the Gospels. The singing was disappointing, for although hymn books were handed round to most of the soldiers, and the tunes were the familiar ones of "Rousseau" and "Singing for Jesus," but very few of the men sang, although a few officers near us did so with a will: had it not been for the Guards' band, which played the airs, this part of the service would have been very dull. The preacher took no text, but proceeded to address the men on the importance of regarding little things, and whatever the effect might have been upon others, we came away feeling that of all little things, that address was certainly of the smallest. Some good advice and instruction were given, such as might have been useful amongst a class of boys in a day-school, but it was a miserably lost opportunity of proclaiming the gospel to a vast crowd of military and others.

General Lysons, commanding the camp, is extremely rigid in prohibiting any preaching or addresses by other than the authorised ministers. A worthy "brother" mounted a little knoll in the midst of the tents, nearly a mile from head-quarters, and having vigorously rung a bell for some time, to gather a congregation, was in the act of singing a hymn, when an orderly, galloping up, peremptorily stopped the proceedings by ordering the would-be preacher off the ground and the men to their tents;