is just one of those streets which a respectable person would never think of turning down unless business called him thither. But none the worse for the Home on that account. We should feel inclined to

say, all the better. It is precisely the kind of street which Dr. Barnardo's boys would naturally seek, without being overawed by the dignity and respectability of the place. The site, therefore, is admirably chosen, inasmuch as by the gentlest of all steps it lifts the dirty and ragged outcasts up from the gutter, and places them on the path of decency, industry, and righteousness.

So much for the outside. Inside the place is a real Home. There is no Mr. Bumble to terrify the boys, and treat them as if they were scarcely human. There are no officials, bearing such dignified and frigid names as Master" and "Matron." On the contrary, the Home contains a "mother;" and we were delighted to find that the manager -a quiet, genial, benevolent-looking, middle-aged man- was the "father," all the boys recognizing him by that name. This is as it should be. Such a fact gives to the establishment the warmth, the glow, and the reality of Home. On the occasion of our visit we were shown by the "father," first of all, into the dormitories. The top room of the building is surrounded with hammocks made of pieces of strong canvas stretched on irons. There is no bedding of any kind except the canvas itself; but wrapped in a warm horse-cloth kind of blanket, the poor waifs and strays, accustomed to sleep in a barge, a barrel, or a barrow, find such a bed a real luxury. The floor below was filled with strong iron bedsteads, furnished with mattresses, sheets, pillows, and blankets. These, the "father" told us, were for the working boys, who paid something for their support, and for the destitute ones who by industry and good conduct had merited promotion. Each boy has a separate bed; he has also a bracket on which to place his Bible, an iron basket in which to put his working clothes, and a cupboard for his Sunday ones. A central bed on each side of the dormitory is occupied by a monitor, who looks after his division, and is responsible for its conduct. In another part of the premises were lavatories, and a large bath, which every candidate must enter when he first enters the Home. In one room several boys were engaged in shoe-making; in another several more were taught brush-making; still another room was occupied by several youthful tailors; and a joiners' shop has just been added. Each of these departments is under the management of an efficient foreman. In the tailoring department, most of the work is to make garments for the boys. The sales from the boot-making department are between £200 and £300 per year. But the brush-making department seems most prosperous. It turns over nearly £1000 a year, and realises a handsome profit. The school-room was the most interesting place of all, for there were the Home boys all busy at their respective tasks. A motley group they were. Looking upon that array of faces in the spacious room, a single glance told that as in some vast reservoir there are pent up forces which if uncontrolled would carry desolation far and wide, so in that school-room-or else physiognomy goes for nothingthere were under those heads of hair, only to be described as fields of stubble, and in those scowling looks and massive jaws, the making of sufficient criminals of the Bill Sykes type to stock a moderate sized town. Others of them had nice intelligent faces, and all seemed happy

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as they lustily sang one of their school hymns. If we may judge from the writing of some, the school will not fail to send out a fair percentage of decent scholars. The boys are called in the morning at six; at halfpast they breakfast on bread, with dripping or treacle, and coffee. The bread is cut into slices with an immense knife, which is fastened at the end to something in the table, much after the fashion of the knife cloggers use to cut clog soles with. Prayer follows breakfast, and halfan-hour's play follows prayers. Then comes school or work, with dinner at twelve and tea at six; then another half-hour's play, followed by school till nine, when the somewhat considerable family retires to bed. It costs about £16 a year to feed, clothe, educate, and teach a trade to one boy. The following list will show the results of a single year's work:

Dr.

To these must be added a still greater number who, although not in the Home, were in the same year, by means of the Wood-chopping Brigade and the City Messenger Brigade, etc., more or less helped to earn their own livelihood. The work grows, and it deserves to grow. Barnardo is a moral physician, doing what he can, by the help of God, to heal one of the open sores of this metropolis. The chances are that nine out of ten of the boys under his care, if they were not so trained, would become a curse to the State; and when "it is calculated that each habitual criminal on the books of Scotland Yard, in what he steals, destroys, wastes in police-rate, in prosecutions, and gaols, costs society £200 a year, we cannot but believe that it is money well spent which for £16 pounds a year converts a would be criminal into a respectable and industrious citizen. But Dr. Barnardo does more than this. The reformation effected in these boys is not merely a saving to society; in many cases it is the saving of a soul from death; and looked at in that light, the work exceeds all price. We rejoice to learn that the work is increasing in magnitude year by year. An infirmary has just been attached to the boys' Home; a Cottage Hospital is anxiously looked for; a Village Home, consisting of fifteen cottages, is fast being completed, and is intended for destitute girls; and last, but not least, £4,000 have been obtained towards the £5,000 necessary to start a Training Ship for boys. We hope that the Doctor will have health and strength to mature all his benevolent schemes, and pray that the Divine blessing may ever attend his labours of love. J. FLETCHER.

SCRAPS OF CHEER.-A minister of the Particular Baptist body says, "I take in the 'G. B. Magazine.' Think it the best going. I wish to aid its circulation: hence my order." The italics are his. The Nonconformist of Feb. 9, says, "The General Baptist' is always edited with spirit. We have articles on the Miraculous Origin of Jesus,' 'Dr. Barnardo among the City Arabs,' 'Political Establishment and the Christian Church,' and several other subjects of the day, as well as of all days." A church officer says, "It ought to be read, marked, learnt, and inwardly digested by every member amongst us."

CHURCH AND STATE IN ENGLAND.

No. III.-The State Church and Conversion.

THE New Testament is full of admonition concerning the necessity of a change of nature-a putting off of the old man, a new livingness of purpose-"Ye must be born again." The bulk of English Christians earnestly seek to engage themselves in prayer and such Christian effort as will conduce to the conversion of sinners. We are not all agreed as to the evidences of conversion, or the mode in which it should be manifested. Some earnest souls are satisfied that they "found peace" in religion at a certain definite moment, and they may be pardoned for expecting a similar experience to be realised by others, who may otherwise have found that the seed of truth very gradually germinated and took root in their hearts. In this, however, all are agreed who call themselves Evangelical Christians-that a change of heart is necessary. What would such people say of a church which, as such, had nothing to do with conversion? We have our Missionary Societies, our Home and City Missions, all seeking the conversion of souls; strange indeed would it be if the Church of England as by law established had nothing to do with conversion! Good people of "quiet digestion " will perhaps think the very suggestion monstrous; let us leave the suggestion then, and simply inquire whether the fact is monstrous. What reply does the style of architecture adopted in our parishes give to the question, whether the Church Establishment urges the importance of conversion? The apostle asks, "How shall they believe in him whom they have not heard, and how shall they hear without a preacher ?" (Rom. x. 14.) Church architecture settles this question at once, for the parish churches are invariably built on the principle "how not to hear." The pulpit never occupies the place of honour; it is "cornered," so that the "altar" may be dignified by position, if not by "baldachinno." The parish churches are intended for public worship, and not for preaching. The parishioners are supposed to be already converted (in baptism perhaps), and the parish church is built for the convenience of those who come to worship. Of course, conversion must precede true worship. A rebel must swear fealty before he can loyally come to the throne. Church architecture is intended for singing and liturgical response, processionals, and acts which are subsequent to conversion; not for services aiming at conversion.

What does the church service say about conversion? It proceeds upon the assumption that all are converted; and all therefore are invited on common ground to join in prayer and confession. Here again the work of preaching to the unconverted is shelved, and the sermon is not necessarily part of the service at all. What provision is there here for the unconverted?

Are the church officers converted? Are churchwardens and parish clerks always pious? or are the former more associated with long tobacco pipes than with prayer and devotion? In this parish their meetings are usually held in a tavern; and a neighbour lately disturbed at one in the morning was reminded by the stammering and groping farmer lying at his doorstep that it was Easter vestry day!

What guarantee does the church require that the priests are converted? They sign the thirty-nine articles, they conform to the prayer-book, they pass a literary and theological examination; but are any inquiries made as to whether they are converted characters or not? I reply

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without hesitation, that there are none imposed by the Church Establishment. Many earnest dignitaries and priests in the church would doubtless think it their duty to confer most prayerfully with a neighbour who intended entering "holy orders;" but this is a private friendly act, and is not part of church work at all.

What does the church teach instead of conversion? prayer-book answer.

Let the

"We yield Thee hearty thanks most merciful Father, that it hath pleased Thee to regenerate this infant with Thy Holy Spirit."

It would not be consistent in the prayer-book, after giving thanks for regeneration during infancy, to patronize further effort for that conversion to be gained, while it was already obtained. The "Church" disdains the cumbrous mode of benefiting sinners by using the penitent form; it ignores the work of preaching to sinners, and appealing to the unconverted, and with the graceful platitudes of the parliamentary prayer-book, thanks God that the work was done without preaching or hearing, "through the sprinkling of water!" Glorious expedition!

This view is strengthened by reference to the preface to the prayerbook, where, after adverting to the "licentiousness of the late times," on account of the increasing number of Baptists, it is said that the form of baptismal service for those of "riper years" may be "useful for the baptizing of natives in our plantations, and others converted to the faith." Does not this imply that all who are confirmed without this form of baptism are not "converted to the faith," and really do not need conversion?

This argument is not in any way met by the fact that many individual priests and laymen preach the necessity of conversion; there are at least as many who do not. We are inquiring as to what the Church Establishment authoritatively sets forth; and the candid reader should find at least one prayer or paragraph in the prayer-book which maintains the necessity of conversion-for all sinners, whether natives of a colonial plantation or born in an English palace-before gainsaying the position here taken.

One of the Jubilee Melodies declares

"If you want your souls converted,
You had better be a praying."

It is to be feared that if you have that want, the Church Establishment, supported at a cost of several millions for the sake of religion, is just the place where you will not find it supplied. Thank God that there are dissenters then.

The Church of England has official cognizance of a great many things. Her ministers are bound under severe penalties to marry all who require marriage, to bury all who may die in the parish (if they have been christened, which is the Anglican converting). The Church of England has with careful policy retained a monument of the successful strategy of priests who lived in the days of pious ancestors, by having charge of the probate courts where wills are proved. Filthy lucre is so offensive, money is so heavy a burden, that the priests have always until this day cleverly had a hand in the matter of will-making, helping to bear the burden of the rich man's money, and so fulfilling the law of Christ. A strange shop this is to have the sign "Church" written over it. If you want to get a will proved, a wedding settled, or a corpse interred, the Church of England as by law established can oblige you.

If you want conversion" Well, sir, that article is not in the prayerbook, except a small quantity for negroes in the plantations; you had better call at the little Bethel lower down the lane!" I say again, what a grand thing that there is a "little Bethel down the lane !"

The Manse, Tarporley.

R. FOULKES GRIFFITHS.

REV. R. H. HAWEIS ON BAPTISM.

A FEW Sundays ago it was my unutterable privilege to hear three sermons; and I only regretted that I could not hear thirteen. I had a holiday in London, and enjoyed the rare luxury of being in the pew instead of the pulpit; a luxury only fully appreciated by those who are locked in the pulpit nearly all the year round. Still it is not often I regret that I am a preacher; but I do sometimes; occasionally when from an intolerable sluggishness of brain, or an over pressure of work, or some defect of preparation, or failure to become en rapport with my audience, I preach a miserably poor sermon: and again, when I have the joy of listening to men who compel one's whole nature into sympathy with theirs, and for the time, accomplish the feat of making their hearers self-oblivious.

There are such men-men whose intense life is contagious, who make your brains think with theirs, fire you with their zeal, cheer you with their overflowing joy, force into you their convictions, and brighten your life with their hopes. Sometimes it is whispered that the power of preachers is on the wane, and there are misplaced men enough in the pulpit, as elsewhere, to justify the unwelcome suspicion; but I believe that some of the finest men this English nation has in it are preachers of the word; and that the perfection and crowning of pulpit effectiveness is in the dawning future, and not in the richly storied past.

One of the men I heard on my holiday Sunday was the Rev. R. H. Haweis, a unique preacher, of energetic intellect, singular daring, glowing fervour, and impassioned eloquence, He is one of the broadest clergymen of the "Broad" section of our church by law established; and strange to say, on the occasion of my visit was discoursing on baptism and sudden conversions.

His idea of the rareness of "sudden conversion" I have long held and taught: and anything more definite, distinct, and emphatic in the way of thorough endorsement and vigorous vindication of our "views" as Baptists, it has never been my lot to hear; not even from that strange creature the Baptist bigot thumping his Bible in the gloomy conventicle of the village back street. He began with an indignant repudiation of the dogma of “baptismal regeneration,” urged with such terrible energy of insistance by the High Church sect just now. Christ, he maintained, taught Nicodemus the necessity of baptism; and the New Testament represented the inward change as preceding the outward and visible sign. The merit of Baptists was this, that they demanded reality, and would have it, the thing before the sign of the thing, the "conversion" before the public witness to it. And the necessity for the Baptist, said the preacher, with incisive rebuke, "is in your formality, and hollowness, and hypocrisy. You are unreal. You are for the sign, and forget the thing, and therefore the Baptist, in his zeal for reality, will not suffer a practice which seems to feed formalism and insincerity. True," continued Mr. Haweis, "the Baptist is a little blind," but he speedily followed the stinging accusation with Mark Antony's words, "so are we all." Hence I do not care to protest against the soft impeachment, on the principle of the farmer who declared it was a very different thing to join everybody at church in saying WE are miserable sinners," and to permit a neighbour to call out to you before you've passed the church gate, "YOU'RE a miserable sinner." One blind man excites our pity; but if all were blind, no doubt we should rejoice in our blindness as in a universal law.

And was there nothing in favour of infant baptism? Only an appeal, ad misericordiam, to the effect that no father likes to think of his child being outside the visible church, and therefore takes him to the priest for baptism. Probably Mr. Haweis has other arguments for this practice. It is not fair to say he has not but the only reason assigned then, for departing from New Testament teaching, is the need of yielding to this weak and unintelligent parental desire by which that very unreality Mr. Haweis condemned is more abundantly strengthened than by anything else. JOHN CLIFFORD.