The disciple whom Jesus loved died, and was buried from his own garden September 9, 1892. Almost the last verse his pen ever transcribed was that which he wrote to Miss Frances E. Willard on the death of her mother: But weep not for those who shall sorrow no more, His last words were, "Love only; love the world." In the garden, as he lay there sleeping so restfully, the Hutchinson family sang one of his early heroic poems of freedom; and then, just before he was carried away to the Friends' cemetery, a sweet voice repeated one of his hymns-words so saintly that they may well end our study of his religious beliefs: When on my day of life the night is falling, And, in the winds from unsunned spaces blown, My feet to paths unknown. Thou who hast made my home of life so pleasant O Love divine, O Helper ever present, Be thou my strength and stay! I have but thee, my Father! let thy Spirit Some humble door among thy many mansions, Some sheltering shade where sin and striving cease, There, from the music round about me stealing, And find at last, beneath thy trees of healing, Camden M. Cobern ART. VII.-THE REDEMPTION OF THE SLUMS. THERE are those who are disposed to take a gloomy view of the future of Christianity. To our mind there never was a better prospect of its final prevalence. There are various reasons for such confidence, one of which is found in the fact that we are at last beginning to realize our duty to the cities, and especially those parts of them sometimes called "the slums." It was high time to do something. We need not here describe the growth of the cities in proportion to that of the rural districts of our country. Is it not written in the books of the Census Bureau? Moreover, the startling figures have been repeatedly published in the journals of the day and made the text of many an earnest exhortation from the pulpit and the platform. It is, likewise, unnecessary to dwell on the effect upon the morality of the cities of this rapid increase in their size, since it is pretty well understood that it is precisely "the dregs of society" that tend to settle in the centers of population. The cities, then, have in the last decades grown as rapidly, if not more so, in wickedness as they have in the number of their inhabitants. What, meanwhile, has the Church been doing? Much, doubtless; but anyone who will take pains to investigate the matter will find that, except in one of its branches, its growth has been almost entirely among the better classes. The Catholics alone have held their own or made advancement in the slums of our cities. "Yes," some will say, "and that is the reason why they are no better." We should say, rather, that it is the reason why they are no worse; for though, of course, we cannot approve of all the doctrines and methods of Romanism, we are convinced. that thousands are deterred from vice and crime, and other multitudes sustained in virtuous courses, through its influence, and that, therefore, the dark corners of our cities are not as dark as they would have been had the priest, too, gone when the minister deserted them. Yes, "deserted," severe as it may seem, is the proper term to use in this connection; for not only have the Protestants, until lately, not grown in the districts in question, but they have actually withdrawn from them and sold their houses of worship to the Catholics. This is as true of the Methodists as of the other denominations. In Boston, for example, not only the old church on North Bennett Street, but Father Taylor's Bethel, the scene of some of the most glorious achievements of Methodism, is now a Catholic sanctuary. Of course, we know why the Protestants left the North End of Boston and the corresponding quarters of other cities. "Our members," they said, "are moving to the newer wards or into the suburbs, and the church must go with them." That might be a reason for moving a club, but it is not a warrant for leaving a house of worship. In the first place, it assumes the contrary of a fundamental principle of Christianity. It implies that the religious advantages to be given to a community may be measured by the ability or the disposition of the said community to pay for them. Jesus, however, said, "The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister;" and the Church deserves the name Christian only when, as it has done in all its missionary enterprises, it gives as freely as it has received. The desertion of these so-called "downtown churches" has, in many cases, been the more culpable because it was financially unnecessary. Some time ago we heard a story of a minister who was called from a distant field to serve a church that was, by many of its official members, supposed to be on the verge of dissolution. When he arrived he asked them the reason of their fears. "Why," they replied, "our people are moving away, and those that are taking their places in the neighborhood are of another sort." "Then," said he, "let's have another sort of church." He went to work on this idea of adapting his church to its environment, and it immediately entered upon a new period of prosperity, which still continues. Only a few years ago there was a deal of talk about abandoning Grace Church, in Boston; but there happened to be among its members a number of men who loved it enough to make some exertion to save it, and now, although it is not so well situated as it might be, it is one of the most prosperous Methodist societies in the city. These are our reasons for using the term "desertion." In this hasty sketch of our relation to the task of redeeming the slums we have used the past tense. We believe that the Methodists, like the other Protestant denominations, have mistaken the mind of God and failed of accomplishing their entire mission in their eagerness to acquire influence among the respectable; but we are equally convinced that Protestants generally are awaking to their responsibility to the hitherto neglected classes, and that there is henceforth to be increasing effort for their salvation. It is a divinely inspired movement. Let us see how it may best be furthered. Most Methodists, we suppose, if asked on what means we must chiefly rely to redeem the slums, would, without much hesitation, reply, "The preaching of the Gospel." They would open missions in convenient places and introduce the usual methods of winning souls. This seems to be the idea of the official declaration of the Church with respect to our work in the cities. It commends to us the so-called "City Evangelization Union," the object of whose branches is to furnish aid to needy churches, organize new church enterprises, and conduct mission work among the religiously destitute (Discipline, 364). We believe in preaching, and we would have the Gospel, the news of God's love for men, proclaimed wherever they could be gathered to listen to the message. Such a plan would require a goodly number of preachers; for it is not a difficult matter, in a large city, to get a congregation. In the summer one can in a few minutes, if allowed to do so, collect a crowd about one in the street or on the Common, and with simple, earnest words hold them until the object of such a meeting is accomplished. In the winter it is a still simpler matter. Then it is only necessary to secure a room, on or near a thoroughfare, where there is plenty of light and warmth, and there will be a congregation whenever it is open. If notice be given that those who have no other place to lodge will be allowed to sleep on the floor after the service every seat will be filled, and however long the meeting may last few will lose their patience. On Sunday one is almost sure to find from twenty-five to a hundred men more or less disposed to be entertained at any of the cheap lodging houses. To be sure, a crowd of this sort does not furnish the best material for saints. It is, in fact, largely composed of the "bummers," whose only employment is that of collecting nickels from the thoughtlessly benevolent for the support of rumsellers. Not long ago a gentleman saw one of them receive a coin from another passer and, being curious to know He went how he would use the money, followed him. directly to the nearest saloon and presently reappeared, wiping his mouth and showing other signs of temporary satisfaction. The gentleman waited until he was out of sight and then, going into the saloon, asked the proprietor what the man had purchased. "A glass of brandy," said the rumseller; "and he drank it to the health of the fool that gave him the money to pay for it." It is not often that a man of this stamp is touched by the Gospel. If he seems affected he will usually be found to be trying to "work" the missionary for "the price of a meal " or out of pure mischief. In addition to these incorrigibles, however, there are apt to come to a mission persons of a different character-young men recovering from "a spree," to find themselves robbed and deserted, with others, male and female, who are seeking a place to spend an idle hour. They are attracted by the singing; but their interest does not always stop there, for now and then one is moved by the prayers and exhortations heard to begin a better life. These, and not the bunmers who need a thorough course of the law to be prepared for the Gospel-are the class that the mission really reaches; and if they were far fewer than they are it would be worth while to rake the filth of the slums to save them. Let us, then, establish missions and preach the Gospel in its simple power to as many as possible. But suppose that a young man, out of work and utterly destitute, is converted. What next? Is he, at the close of the meeting, to be turned into the street with a "God bless you! Be faithful!" to sleep on a doorstep or find a refuge in the nearest police station? Or is he to be provided with a ticket and sent to a neighboring lodging house, to lie in filth, pestered by verinin, but more sorely tortured by the drivel or profanity of his drunken roommates? And, if he endures-as some, thank God! have done -this ordeal, when he rises in the morning resolved to be a man among men is anything to be done for him; or is he to be left to wander from shop to shop or from store to store, receiving thoughtlessly or contemptuously curt answers to his appeals for a place to earn an honest living, until his strength is exhausted and he is tempted to doubt the existence "of Christian charity under the sun?" The case of the woman who has been a "sinner," suggested by the above quotation, is |