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 A NAEEATIVE 
 | 
 
 BY GEORGE E M E. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION, 
 BY JAMES TV. ALEXANDER, D.D. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
 No. 285 BROADWAY. 
 
 1852. 
 
 :T 
 
' ' ROOKR MILLER' will prove a treasure to every practical philan- 
 thropist. I do not remember reading a narrative more admonitory, 
 suggestive, or encouraging. This I can say after thorough examina- 
 tion, for every sentence in the book I have carefully marked. Wher- 
 ever it goes, a blessing must follow. The usefulness of Mr. Miller in 
 his life was remarkable; it is my impression, that by this faithful 
 record of his trials and labors his influence will be felt for many gen- 
 erations in a degree and to an extent it is impossible to calculate. 
 
 "JOHN WADDINGTON. 
 
 M 9 SURREY SQUARE, 
 
 "A more worthy, diligent, kind, and useful person, could not bo 
 found hi the whole circle of those who are engaged in the service of 
 the poorer classes. ASHLEY." (Times.) 
 
 " Their calling is high and holy. Their fame is the property of na- 
 tions. Their renown will fill the earth in after ages, in proportion as it 
 Bounds not far off in their own times." LORD BROUGHAM. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE following pages have been written in the hope 
 that they may be found by many, neither uninteresting 
 nor unprofitable. The life of a good man, abounding in 
 earnest and patient labors for the interests of piety and 
 humanity, and distinguished for usefulness to both, can 
 never be a subject of indifference to rightly constituted 
 minds. 
 
 " Princes and lords are but the breath of king*, 
 A holy mail's tho noblest work of God." 
 
 But the life of such a man is not only fitted to interest, 
 it is adapted also to become a means of good of the 
 highest order. The influence of a person's character 
 and works does not expire with himself. It may be per- 
 petuated long after he has passed from the field of toil, 
 and become then even more powerful than before. 
 
 The Jews, in the days of Christ's caithly sojourn, 
 revered and honored, after death, the memories of those 
 prophets whom before they and their fathers had most 
 bitterly persecuted; and we all know huw frequently 
 those who most easily withstood all the commands and 
 counsels of a father, the entreaties and tcais of a mother 
 the instructions and exhortations of a toucher or a pas- 
 tor, while these lived, have after their deuth felt in their 
 words a power which could bo no longer resisted or 
 opposed. 
 
 " The idea of his life has sweetly crept 
 Into his study of imagination, 
 And every lovely organ of his life 
 
Vm PREFACE. 
 
 Has come apparelled in more precious habit, 
 More moving delicate, and full of life, 
 Into the eye and prospect of his soul, 
 Than when he lived indeed." 
 
 Nor is it those only who were more immediately con- 
 nected with the individual, and were the objects of his 
 benevolent solicitudes and labors, that are susceptible 
 of this influence, but all. To those who, in any depart- 
 ment, are engaged in the same great work, his zeal may 
 afford excitement, his energy impart strength, his modes 
 of operation give wisdom, and his success yield encour- 
 agement ; while to those who are dead to God, his whole 
 history may become a means of conviction and quicken- 
 ing. And surely we ought not needlessly to allow such 
 influence to be lost. In a world like ours, where evil is 
 so much in the ascendant, and has so many and such 
 mighty agencies enlisted in its favor, we can ill afford to 
 throw any influence away that is available for the ad- 
 vancement of truth and righteousness. By all that is 
 sacred in religion, and dear to humanit} r , we are bound 
 to gather it up, to throw it into the great mass that is 
 sustaining throughout the world the mighty struggle 
 against evil, and there to diffuse it as widely, and per- 
 petuate it as long, as may be. These, chiefly, are the 
 considerations that have influenced the writer in prepar- 
 ing the following Narrative, which now lead him to 
 send it forth to the world, and which, whatever may 
 become of it will be the grounds of his satisfaction in 
 having done so. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THE very striking work here reprinted was 
 known to me before the American publishers 
 determined to bring it out. It has already 
 awakened much interest in Great Britain, and 
 is destined to do the like here. For, different 
 as the condition of Europe is from that of 
 America, in many respects, there are some 
 things in which the lessons of one continent 
 are invaluable to the other. And though I 
 am persuaded the exchange in matters of reli- 
 gious enterprise is in our favor on the whole, 
 yet there are some portions of that debatable 
 land, lying between political economy and 
 religion, which have been more thoroughly 
 surveyed and traversed in England than in 
 America. The reason of this is easily found. 
 The evils of old prescriptive abomination, the 
 evils of over-population, pauperism and organ- 
 ized villany, the evils of great cities, in a 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 word, have there become so enormous as to 
 be intolerable. The energetic application of 
 some kind of remedy followed, as a matter of 
 course. We have as much perhaps to learn 
 from British Christians, in regard to territo- 
 rial subdivision, domiciliary census of vice 
 and woe, schools for the abject, night asylums 
 for the houseless, and courageous plunging 
 into the gulf after perishing felons, as British 
 Christians have to learn of us in regard to 
 wine and whisky, social religious meetings, 
 and church accommodation. In this matter of 
 cities and great towns, their peril was more 
 imminent. The horrible excrescences were 
 fungous and insupportable; no wonder they 
 called for the knife. It will be our wisdom 
 to learn means of preservation from their 
 attempts at cure. 
 
 Among a thousand blessings which we 
 enjoy as a free country, for which we ought 
 to bless God every hour of our lives, there are 
 some which belong to us as a new countrv. 
 Population has not yet trodden on the heels 
 of sustenance. The astounding inequalities 
 of property which in the Old World present 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to view, on one hand, the plantations and pre- 
 serves of a nobleman who can travel fifty miles 
 on his own land, and on the other hand, 
 roofless, floorless hovels, or parish unions, or 
 crowded jails, barracks, and guard-houses ; 
 inequalities sanctified by age, prejudice, and 
 heraldry, do not exist among us. And hence 
 the dishonesty of those clamors by which 
 demagogues turn truth into falsehood, by 
 uttering concerning our own fresh, lovely, 
 agricultural America, sentences which are all 
 too true of England, Scotland, and Ireland. 
 Yet after making every allowance for these 
 diversities, there is a marked tendency towards 
 the ills of the old country. We should be 
 wise in time, and should provide against im- 
 pending evil, by means derived from the 
 experiment of others. 
 
 It merits the solemn consideration of every 
 philanthropist, in other words, of every true 
 Christian, that the cities of America are rapidly 
 becoming like the cities of Europe. It would be 
 well, indeed, if we imported merely their fash- 
 ions, their luxuries, and their art : we are also 
 rapidly importing their vices. The resem- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 blance is nowhere so striking as in the very 
 lowest strata of society. 
 
 The thief or the beggar of New York or 
 New Orleans, is very like the thief or the beg- 
 gar of Glasgow or Paris. Similar conditions 
 produce the same results. Nay, not only do 
 our cities imitate the vice of the Old World, 
 but they import it ready-made ; and even the 
 pickpocket and burglar are often foreign per- 
 formers, British actors on American boards. 
 The dreadful and indescribable iniquity and 
 wretchedness of the lowest classes in cities, are 
 known by a very small proportion of good 
 people. There is no reason why every phil- 
 anthropic man should personally inspect these 
 haunts of sordid infamy, any more than that 
 he should enter the small-pox hospital or the 
 insane asylum. Yet are these hundreds of 
 thousands to be left to perdition ? Shall we 
 be forever kept at home from going to rescue 
 the publican and the harlot, by beholding 
 some "lion in the way" some lion of false 
 prudence, some lion of custom, some lion of 
 clerical or ecclesiastical etiquette? One of 
 the great revivals of this stirring, rapid age 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 may God grant it speedily would be a, re- 
 vival of the spirit of the good Samaritan in 
 all our brethren of the laity. These lines are 
 not penned to shield or excuse the clergy. 
 God forbid ! Our omissions are innumerable, 
 and are felt, owned, and repented of daily by 
 many a servant of Christ. But it is a serious 
 question, whether individual effort for the 
 reform of the profligate, and the conversion of 
 the impenitent, is not less frequent and urgent 
 than it was even twenty years ago ; while our 
 necessities are greater. We remember with 
 praise to God such men as Joseph Eastburn, 
 Harlan Page, Joseph Brewster, and Francis 
 Markoe, men who went far to seize and re- 
 store the single sheep or lamb lost in the 
 mountains, and we know some such men still 
 living. We prize and honor, and would aid 
 in the work of City Missions, and all that 
 silent but benign labor of the City Tract 
 Society, in which many excellent men have been 
 employed for years. But these are the very- 
 persons who best know how few come up to 
 the help of the Lord by individual effort, by 
 sacrifice of taste, feeling, and time, by actual 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 visitation of the wretched, and by personal 
 exhortation of the unconverted. " Money," 
 says a preacher who has ably pleaded this 
 cause, u is given more freely than time, or 
 direct personal effort. If their own tastes are 
 gratified, their own families provided with 
 the means of grace, too many have little re- 
 gard for others, or for the interests of the 
 church in general."* There are those of us 
 who can remember a much more general 
 activity in seeking out the haters of God, and 
 urging on them the claims of the gospel. 
 Perhaps both erroneous doctrine and impru- 
 dent measures sprung up during that revival 
 period, but weeds are apt to be rankest in 
 rich soils. Anything is better than to let sin- 
 ners go down to ruin, while we sit and muse 
 upon points of orthodoxy, and niceties of pru- 
 dish decorum. Souls are perishing in our 
 way by myriads. Thousands of professing 
 Christians in our churches are doing nothing 
 
 * " Moral Aspect and Destitution of the City of New 
 York. A Discourse at the opening of the Presbytery of 
 New York, Oct. 13, 1851, by the Kev. William Bannard, 
 Pastor of Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church. Charles 
 Scribner, 1851." 
 
INTRODUCTION". 
 
 in the way of personal exertion to prevent 
 their perdition. From such premises, can 
 there be any conclusion but one ? 
 
 Let no one hastily raise a cry of fanaticism, 
 as if the summons were to any strange, novel 
 work, or to engage in services unsuited to the 
 individual. The work is the ancient, estab- 
 lished, and acknowledged work of religious 
 beneficence, and it is not pretended that 
 every man is fitted for every work. There 
 are some, perhaps, whose bounden duty it is 
 to stay at home. There are some branches 
 of philanthropic duty which would be ill 
 attempted by any but the aged, or by Chris- 
 tian women. Yet there remains a vast field 
 of duty to bo performed by Christian men. 
 Too much has been conceded to the mercantile 
 world in this matter, till at length it is not an 
 uncommon thing for Christian professors, and 
 even church-officers, to spend years of life with- 
 out ever seeing the inside of a cellar or garret, 
 or ever standing by a poor man's dying bed. 
 Such duties they leave, according to the per- 
 verted usage of the day, to the gentler sex. 
 So far as this effect of over-hurried business 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 continues to operate on the church, so far we 
 may expect God's curse, both on our churches 
 and our business. The last part of the twenty- 
 fifth chapter of Matthew still abides in force. 
 In the following pages, the Eagged Schools 
 are mentioned. The class for which these 
 schools are primarily intended does not exist 
 let it be said with thanks in America. 
 Sporadic cases of abject poverty unquestion- 
 ably occur, chiefly in the persons of Euro- 
 peans ; but we have not arrived at that stage 
 in the progress of states, when whole genera- 
 tions of beggary form a sort of recognized 
 ^uild.* Yet here a remark made above must 
 oe repeated; we are treading closely on the 
 steps of Europe. Already our streets, and 
 alleys, and suburban fields, and play-grounds 
 exhibit a close approximation to the class 
 who fill the Eagged Schools. Methods of the 
 same general character, modified by differ- 
 
 * He who would learn at once how low human nature 
 may sink amid the vaunted civilization of England, may read 
 several papers in the " Household Words," the later num- 
 bers of Mayhew's " London Labor and London Poor," which 
 will be reached before long in the American reprint ; and the 
 "Life of a Vagrant," New York, Carter & Bros., 1851. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ences of country and habits, must be speedily 
 employed, or our Sunday news-boys and 
 roller-boys will become a generation of swag- 
 gerers and ruffians, ripe for war, piracy, and 
 murder. It has been my privilege to inspect 
 the Ragged Schools of Edinburgh and Glas- 
 gow, with a satisfaction which it would be 
 difficult to express. From a number of docu- 
 ments- now lying before me, I cannot refrain 
 from extracting some remarks by the eminent 
 clergyman to whom this enterprise owes its 
 origin in Edinburgh, remarks which called 
 forth the public commendation of such men 
 as the late Lord Jeffrey and Lord Murray. 
 
 " In a small, well-conditioned town," says Mr. 
 Guthrie, " with the exception of some children bask- 
 ing on the pavement, and playing with the dogs that 
 have gone over with them to enjoy the sunny side, be- 
 tween the hours of ten and one, you miss the Scripture 
 picture of ' boys and girls playing in the street.' Not 
 so in the Grassmarket. On one side of this square, in 
 two thirds of the shops (for we have counted them) 
 spirits are sold. The sheep are near the slaughter- 
 house, the victims are in the neighborhood of the 
 altars. The mouth of almost every close is filled 
 with loungers, worse than Neapolitan lazzaroni, 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 bloated and brutal figures, ragged and wretched old 
 men, bold and fierce-looking women, and many a 
 half-clad mother, shivering in cold winter, her 
 naked feet on the frozen pavement, a skeleton 
 infant in her arms. On a summer day, when in 
 the blessed sunshine and warm air, misery itself 
 will sing : dashing in and out of these closes, career- 
 ing over the open ground, engaged in their rude 
 games, arrayed in flying drapery, here a leg out and 
 there an arm, are crowds of children : their thin 
 faces tell how ill they are fed ; their fearful oaths 
 tell how ill they are reared ; and yet the merry 
 laugh, the hearty shout, and screams of delight, as 
 some unfortunate urchin, at leap-frog, measures his 
 length upon the ground, also tell that God made 
 childhood to be happy, and that in the buoyancy of 
 youth even misery will forget itself. 
 
 " We will get hold of one of these boys. Poor 
 fellow ! it is a bitter day ; he has neither shoes nor 
 stockings ; his naked feet are red, swollen, cracked, 
 ulcerated with the cold ; a thin, thread- worn jacket, 
 with its gaping rents, is all that protects his breast ; 
 beneath his shaggy bush of hair he shows a face 
 sharp with want, yet sharp also with intelligence 
 beyond his years. That poor little fellow has 
 learned to be already self-supporting. He has 
 studied the arts ; he is a master of imposture, 
 lying, begging, stealing ; and, small blame to him, 
 but much to those who have neglected him, he 
 had otherwise pined and perished. So soon as you 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 have satisfied him that you are not connected with 
 the police, you ask him, ' Where is your father ?' 
 Now, hear his story, and there are hundreds could 
 tell a similar tale. 'Where is your father?' 'He 
 is dead, sir.' 'Where is your mother?' 'Dead, 
 too.' 'Where do you stay?' 'Sister and I, and 
 my little brother, live with granny. 5 ' What is 
 she ?' * She is a widow woman.' ' What does she 
 do ?' ' Sells sticks, sir.' ' And can she keep you 
 all?' 'No.' 'Then how do you live ?' 'Go 
 about and get bits of meat, sell matches, and some- 
 times get a trifle from the carriers for running an 
 errand.' ' Do you go to school ?' ' No, never was 
 at school ; attended sometimes a Sabbath-school, 
 but have not been there for a long time.' * Do you 
 go to church?' 'Never was in a church.' 'Do 
 you know who made you?' 'Yes, God made me.' 
 'Do you say your prayers?' ' Yes, mother taught 
 me a prayer before she died ; and I say it to granny 
 afore I lie down.' 'Have you a bed?' 'Some 
 straw, sir.' 
 
 " Our stranger friend is astonished at this, not 
 we ; alas ! we have ceased to be astonished at any 
 amount of misery suffered, or suffering, in our over- 
 grown cities. * You have,' says he, ' splendid hospi- 
 tals, where children are fed, and clothed, and edu- 
 cated, whose parents, in instances not a few, could 
 do all that for them ; you have beautiful schools for 
 the gratis education of the children of respectable 
 tradesmen and mechanics : what provision have you 
 
12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 made for these children of crime, misery, and mis- 
 fortune ? Let us go and see tho remedy which 
 this rich, enlightened Christian city has provided 
 for such a crying evil/ We blush, as we tell him 
 there is none. Let us explain ourselves. Such 
 children cannot pay for education, ncr avail them- 
 selves of a gratis one, even though offered. That 
 little fellow must beg and steal, or he starves : with 
 a number like himself, he goes as regularly to that 
 work of a morning as the merchant to his shop or 
 the tradesman to his place of labor. They are 
 turned out, driven out sometimes, to get their 
 meat, like sheep to the hills, or cattle to the field ; 
 and if they don't bring home a certain supply, a 
 drunken father and a brutal beating await them. 
 
 " For example, I was returning from a meeting 
 one night, about twelve o'clock : it was a fierce 
 blast of wind and rain. In Prince's Street, a piteous 
 voice and a shivering boy pressed me to buy a tract. 
 I asked the child why he was out in such a night, 
 and at such an hour. He had not got his money ; 
 he dared not go home without it ; he would rather 
 sleep in a stair all night. I thought, as we passed 
 a lamp, that I had seen him before. I asked him 
 if he went to church. ' Sometimes to Mr. Guth- 
 rie's,' was his reply. On. looking again, I now 
 recognized him as one I had occasionally seen in 
 the Cowgate Chapel. Muffled up to meet tho 
 weather, he did not recognize me. I asked him 
 what his father was. ' I have no father, sir ; he is 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 dead.' His mother ? ' She is very poor.' ' But 
 why keep you out here ?' and then reluctantly the 
 truth came out. I knew her well, and had visited 
 her wretched dwelling. She was a tall, dark, 
 gaunt, gipsy-looking woman, who, notwithstanding 
 a cap of which it could be but premised that it had 
 once been white, and a gown that it had once been 
 black, had still some traces of one who had seen 
 better days ; but, now she was a drunkard, sin had 
 turned her into a monster ; and she would have 
 beaten that poor child within an inch of death, if he 
 had been short of the money, by her waste of which 
 she starved him, and fed her own accursed vices. 
 Now, by this anecdote illustrating to my stranger 
 friend the situation of these unhappy children, I 
 added that, nevertheless, they might get education, 
 and secure some measure both of common and 
 Christian knowledge. But mark how, and where. 
 Not as in the days of our blessed Saviour, when the 
 tender mother brought her child for his blessing. 
 The jailer brings them now. Their only passage to 
 school is through the Police-office ; their passport is 
 a conviction of crime ; and in this Christian and 
 enlightened city it is only within the dark walls of 
 a prison that they are secure either of school or 
 Bible. When one thinks of their own happy boys 
 at home, bounding free on the green, and breathing 
 the fresh air of heaven, or of the little fellow that 
 climbs a father's knee, and asks the oft-repeated 
 story of Moses ar of Joseph, it is a sad thing to 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 look in through the eyelet of a cell-door, on the 
 weary solitude of a child spelling its way through 
 the Bible. It makes one sick to hear men sinu tho 
 praises of the fine education of our prisons. How 
 much better and holier were it to tell us of an edu- 
 cation that would savo the necessity of a prison- 
 school ! I like well to see the life-boat, with her 
 brave and devoted crew ; but with far more pleas- 
 ure, from the window of my old country manse, I 
 used to look out on the Bell Rock Tower, standing 
 erect amid the stormy waters, where in the mists 
 of day the bell was rung, and in the darkness of 
 the night the light was kindled ; and thereby the 
 mariners were not saved from the wreck, but saved 
 from being wrecked at all. Instead of first punish- 
 ing crime, and then, through means of a prison edu- 
 cation, trying to prevent its repetition, we appeal to 
 men's common sense, common interest, humanity, 
 and Christianity, if it were not better to support a 
 plan which would reverse this process, and seek to 
 prevent, that there may be no occasion to punish. 
 
 " But, it may be asked, would not this be accom- 
 plished by the existence and multiplication of schools, 
 where, in circumstances of necessity, a gratis educa- 
 tion may be obtained ? We answer, Certainly not. 
 Look how the thing works, and is working. You 
 open such a school in some poor locality of the city ; 
 among the more decent and well-provided children 
 there is a number of shoeless, shirtless, caplcss, rag- 
 ged boys, as wild as desert savages. The great 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 mass of those in the district you have not swept into 
 your school ; but grant that through moral influence, 
 or otherwise, you do succeed in bringing out a small 
 per centage, mark what happens. In a few days 
 this and that one fail to answer at roll-call. Now, 
 an essential element of successful education is regu- 
 lar attendance ; for, in truth, the world would get 
 on as ill were the sun to run his course to-day, and 
 take a rest or play the truant to-rnorrow, and be so 
 'iilar in his movements that no one could count 
 upon his appearance, as will the work of education 
 with an attendance at school constantly broken and 
 interrupted. Feeling this, the teacher seeks the 
 abode of the chili], climbs some three or four dark 
 stairs, arid finds himself in such an apartment as 
 we have often seen, where there is neither board, 
 bed, nor Bible. Round the cinders, gathered from 
 the street, sit some half-naked children, his poor 
 ragged pupil among the number. ' Your child,' 
 says he to the mother, ' has been away from school.' 
 I pray the Christian public to listen her reply. ' I 
 could not afford to keep him there,' she answers ; 
 * he maun do something for his meat.' I venture 
 to say, nay, I confidently affirm, that there are 
 many hundreds of children in these circumstances 
 this day in Edinburgh. I ask the Christian public, 
 What are we to do ? One of two things we must 
 do, look at them. First, we may leave the boy 
 alone ; by-aud-bye he will qualify himself for school. 
 J Jogging is next neighbor to thieving : he steals, and 
 
16 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 is apprehended, cast into prison, and having heen 
 marched along the public street, shackled to a 
 policeman, and returned to society with the jail- 
 brand on his brow, any tattered shred of character 
 that hung loose about him before is now lost. As 
 the French say, and all the world knows, 'Ce n'cst 
 que le premier pas qui coitt.e' He descends, from 
 step to step, till a halter closes his unhappy career ; 
 or he is passed away to a penal settlement, the vic- 
 tim of a poverty for which he was not to blame, and 
 of a neglect on the part of others for which a right- 
 eous God will one day call them to judgment. 
 
 " There is another alternative ; and it is that we 
 advocate. Remove the obstruction which stands 
 between that poor child and the schoolmaster and 
 the Bible, roll away the stone that lies between 
 the living and the dead ; and since he cannot 
 attend your school unless he starves, give him food ; 
 feed him, in order to educate him ; let it be food of 
 the plainest, cheapest kind ; but by that food open 
 his way to school ; by that powerful magnet to a 
 hungry child, draw him to it. 
 
 " Strolling one day with a friend among the ro- 
 mantic scenery of the Crags and green valleys round 
 Arthur Seat, we came at length to St. Anthony's 
 Well, and sat down on the great black stone, to 
 have a talk with the ragged boys that were pursu- 
 ing their vocation there. Their tiii)iic.s were ready 
 with a draught of the clear, cold water, in hope of 
 a halfpenny. We thought it would be a kindness 
 
INTRODUCTION. IT 
 
 to them, and certainly not out of place in us, to tell 
 them of the living water that springeth up to life 
 eternal, and of Him who sat on the stone of Jacob's 
 Well, and who stood in the Temple and cried, ' If 
 any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.' 
 By way of introduction, we began to question them 
 about schools. As to the boys themselves, one was 
 fatherless, the son of a poor widow ; the father of 
 the other was alive, but a man of low habits and 
 character. Both were poorly clothed. The one 
 had never been at school ; the other had sometimes 
 attended a Sabbath-school. These two little fellows 
 were self-supporting, living by such shifts as they 
 were then engaged in. Encouraged by the success 
 of Sheriff "Watson, who had the honor to lead this 
 enterprise, the idea of a Destitute School was then 
 floating in my brain ; and so, with reference to the 
 scheme, and by way of experiment, I said, ' Would 
 you go to school, if, besides your learning, you were 
 to get breakfast, dinner, and supper there ?' It 
 would have done any man's heart good to have 
 seen the flash of joy that broke from the eyes of one 
 of the boyp, the flush of pleasure on his cheek, 
 as, hearing of three sure meals a-day, he leapt to 
 his feet, and exclaimed, ' Aye will I, sir, and bring 
 the haill land too ;'* arid then, as if afraid I might 
 withdraw what seemed to him so large and munifi- 
 cent an offer, he again exclaimed, ' I'll come for but 
 my dinner, sir.' " 
 
 * The wholi tenement 
 
18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 There are undeniable tokens of renewed 
 attention to the wants of our city population. 
 Some churches have long been engaged in a 
 missionary work of this kind, which has come 
 back upon themselves with blessings. Street- 
 preaching, which has bee a practised for more 
 than a century in Great Britain, is proposed 
 among ourselves. If to this could be added 
 a renewed experiment, under better auspices, 
 towards a supply of FREE CHURCHES, WITH 
 
 ABLE AND AWAKENING PREACHERS, a Visiting 
 
 of the whole population after Dr. Chalmers's 
 plan.* and a number of da} T -schools for the 
 most degraded, we could not long remain 
 without the sisrht of fruit. 
 
 o 
 
 The writer of these paragraphs discerns in 
 the subject of the following memoir a Chris- 
 tian brother of another denomination ; but 
 this rather adds interest to the narrative. 
 The labors here suggested are those which 
 make men undervalue lesser differences. I 
 faust I speak the mind of thousands in saying 
 
 * See Chalmers's Civic and Ecclesiastical Polity of Large 
 Towns. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 that I raise both hands and my whole heart 
 to praise God for the work he has wrought 
 among the poor and despised in city and in 
 wilderness by our Methodist brethren. They 
 have often gone where we could not go. Let 
 us follow their example, and share their 
 reward. 
 
 ' It is far from being intended to hold forth 
 Mr. Miller as a model. We neither inculcate 
 his particular opinions sometimes they are 
 not our own nor urge his particular methods. 
 But we commend the whole narrative to those 
 city Christians who desire to lessen the alarm- 
 ing mass of human misery, and so serve 
 Christ. Especially do we commend the book 
 to all officers in churches, all Sunday-school 
 teachers, and especially all colporteurs, tract- 
 distributors, and visitors of the poor. The 
 reader who rises from the volume unmoved, 
 and without a glow of new desires to be indi- 
 vidually useful to the suffering and the 
 wicked, must be made of sterner stuff than 
 many to whom these pages have been sub- 
 mitted. 
 
ROGER MILLER, 
 
 PAKT I. 
 
 ROGER WOODS MILLER was born at Carlislo, 
 September 19, 1808. His father, Ralph Miller, was 
 a Scotchman, and appears to have been gifted with 
 considerable natural talent and great energy of char- 
 acter. He had served in the army as a private 
 soldier for a number of years, but had, a little before 
 this period, while stationed in Scotland, received his 
 discharge. His pension, on retiring from military 
 service, was but ninepcnce a day ; but he was a 
 man of great bodily strength, and of some skill in 
 rock-blasting and canal and road making, and was 
 consequently, able very amply to supplement its de- 
 ficiencies as an income. He was, however, a man 
 of no prudence, and of no moral principle. Accus- 
 tomed, as a soldier, to travel about from place to 
 place, he cherished a liking for this kind of life, and 
 seems to have been incapable of settling long in any 
 one locality. Carlisle lay in the course of his wander- 
 ings, and on this account, principally, had become 
 the scene of his temporary abode. Though a hus- 
 
10 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 band and a father, he appears to have exhibited a 
 total want of those affections which are proper to 
 these sacred and endearing names. Domestic habits 
 he had none, and, if not " without natural affection," 
 he was certainly the slave of vices which prevented 
 its practical exhibition. Like too many of the pro- 
 fession in which, for some years, he had lived, and 
 in part, no doubt, as a consequence of the peculiar 
 circumstances and influences associated with it, he 
 was an abandoned and reckless profligate, and expend- 
 ed upon his own appetites and those of his worth- 
 less companions, what ought to have been sacred to 
 the wants and welfare of his family. His wife and 
 children, instead of cherishing with affection and 
 care, he was accustomed now to abuse with the ut- 
 most harshness and cruelty, and then to abandon to 
 neglect and want. Some time subsequent to their 
 settlement at Carlisle he entirely forsook them, and 
 Mrs. Miller was left with three helpless children to 
 perish or to subsist as they might. 
 
 It was at this time, and under these hard and ad- 
 verse circumstances, that the subject of the follow- 
 ing memoirs was born a dark and cloudy dawn, rot 
 unsuitable to the short and checkered day by which 
 it was destined to be succeeded. A kind and faith- 
 ful Providence took them under its care, and by 
 ways and means unknown to us graciously provided 
 for them. After the lapse of some time the fathei 
 returned, and removed his family into Lancashire j 
 and here again, after a short period, forsook them. 
 
CRUEL TREATMENT. 11 
 
 Mrs. Miller, compelled now to go into the world to 
 seek a livelihood, placed Roger Woods with an elder 
 brother in the workhouse at Blackburn. He was 
 at this time but six years old, but was sent with his 
 brother to work, first at the print-works of Mr. 
 Turner of that place, and afterwards at those of 
 another gentleman, by whom, at the same time, he 
 was taken into the house. Here, it appears, in ad- 
 dition to the continual confinement, rigid discipline, 
 and the monotonous and wearisome duties of the fac- 
 tory, he was doomed to extreme domestic drudgery, 
 aggravated and embittered by the harshness with 
 which, in a numerous household, he was treated. 
 After a stay of some months in this place, although 
 he had not then completed eight short years of life, 
 his master set himself earnestly to get the boy ap- 
 prenticed to him until the age of twenty-one. Ar- 
 rangements for this were actually made, and the 
 hapless child beheld himself ready to be chained for 
 full thirteen tedious years to a family whose severity 
 had rendered them hateful in his eyes, and to a trade 
 that had become an object of the deepest dislike, ac- 
 companied by domestic circumstances and treatment 
 extremely degrading and oppressive, and consum- 
 mated by no very cheering hope of ultimate com- 
 fort. 
 
 Revolted by the prospect that now opened before 
 him, and exasperated by the Bufferings he had al- 
 ready endured, he resolved on effecting his escape. 
 A favorable opportunity soon presented itself, and 
 
12 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 without money or clothes save those he wore, and a 
 small bundle he carried in his hand, this poor for- 
 saken child started for Manchester a distance of 
 twenty miles by a road of which he knew not a 
 step, hoping there to find his mother, and to mend 
 his lot. The journey took him two days and a half 
 to accomplish. His own account of the adventure 
 is touching : "It was my duty to go each morning 
 to a distance of two miles for milk. Taking advan- 
 tage of this, I got up on the morning of the day ap- 
 pointed (for his apprenticement) earlier than usual. 
 TJiey supposed it was that I might get back and 
 be ready sooner to be measured for a new suit of 
 clothes, and to receive the sum of two shillings for 
 spending money, which the overseers were to give 
 on the occasion. I put my shoes and stockings into 
 the milk-pan, a shirt in a bundle, and went my way. 
 After having got about a rnile and a half, I put 
 down the can in a field, and lost no time in getting 
 into the road for Manchester. Being very younsr, I 
 did not make much progress. I only got that day 
 as far as Mr. Turner's print-works ; I there met with 
 some men and boys whom I knew, and with them 
 I went in. The day was then advanced, and one 
 man told me that if I would be still all night he 
 would make me a bed with his printing blankets 
 under one of the tables ; but I must be sure to lay 
 still, or the watchman would find me out in the 
 night. He gave me some food, and I went to rest. 
 I was woktf up several times during the night, but 
 
FINDS HIS MOTHER. 
 
 13 
 
 kept myself still till my hospitable friend came in 
 the morning, who brought me a good breakfast, and 
 food to carry with me on my way. I then com- 
 menced afresh my task, which I completed on the 
 following day at noon, having slept the second night 
 in a hay-loft, by the permission of a gentleman to 
 whom it belonged." 
 
 On arriving at Manchester, hungry, faint, and 
 foot-sore, clad in tattered garments, and covered 
 with dirt, he set about searching for the object of 
 his fond pursuit, and, by perseverance, succeeded in 
 discovering her. " I was surprised," says the sister, 
 with whom his mother then resided, " one night 
 when (Joing up the house, where, with my mother, 
 I was then living, at being accosted by my name. 
 I looked and saw a little boy, ragged and dirty, who 
 said, ' Do you not know me, Elizabeth ?' It was 
 poor Roger, who had run away, because as he said, 
 they used him cruelly." His mother, who having 
 heard of his flight without knowing its cause, or the 
 direction he had taken, had been almost distracted, 
 now received him as one from the dead, and listened 
 with many tears to the story he rehearsed of tho 
 wrongs that had impelled him to flee, and of the 
 hardships he had encountered on his way. " We 
 washed him," says his sister, " cut his hair, and 
 after burning his old clothes, which were all in tat- 
 ters and so dirty that we put them on the fire with 
 the tongs, we purchased him suitable clothing, and 
 then got him % place at two-and-sixpence a-week." 
 
14 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 This " place" was in a cotton factory. " I was 
 then put," says he, referring to this event, " into 
 what is not improperly called ' infant slavery.' " A 
 person who has never visited and carefully investi- 
 gated a factory of this description, and understands 
 not the way in which such establishments were then 
 formed and conducted, would find it impossible ade- 
 quately to conceive of the unhappiiiess of a child 
 thus early doomed to labor in them. The atmos- 
 phere commonly found in them was extremely close 
 and oppressive, and impregnated throughout with 
 particles of oil and cotton, which gave to it a most 
 offensive and nauseous smell, and rendered it in a 
 great measure unfit for breathing. Their huge, 
 massive, and complicated machinery, presents at 
 best a spectacle truly appalling to the eyes even of 
 adults, especially when unaccustomed to it ; while, 
 from its incessant action, there arises a continual, 
 heavy, monotonous noise that drowns every other 
 sound, and perfectly stuns and confounds the ear. 
 A stranger could rarely at that time visit one of these 
 places, and continue in it for the space of but half 
 an hour, without experiencing more or less of head- 
 ache, and other painful symptoms of physical de- 
 rangement ; and never without being sensible, as he 
 quitted it, of a relief like that he would feel on 
 emerging from a noisome dungeon. Their influence 
 upon the health and spirits of those employed in 
 them was too clearly seen in the blanched cheek, 
 the faded eye, the wasted, dccrepid, or distorted 
 
FACTORY LIFE. 15 
 
 form, the unnatural lassitude and debility, and the 
 premature decay, by which they were, for the most 
 part, characterized. The children immured from 
 early morn till eve, within these huge, gloomy, and 
 unwholesome places, were subjected to an oversight 
 the most despotic, vigilant, jealous, and too ccm- 
 monly capricious and cruel. Meanwhile their per- 
 sons were continually encompassed with danger, and, 
 not unfrequently, by a slight inadvertency, the con- 
 sequence, in some cases, of weakness and fatigue oc- 
 casioned by the employment, a garment was caught 
 around a shaft or by a wheel, arid in a moment, 
 amid the mighty mass of machinery, the tender form 
 of a child was crushed. It is but fair to add, that 
 these factories are now in general improved in their 
 structure and arrangements, and that, in some in- 
 stances, no expense or pains are spared to render 
 them as wholesome and pleasant as the case will 
 admit ; and the condition and circumstances of those 
 employed in them, especially children, are incom- 
 parably better. At that time, however, the system 
 existed in its utmost rigor, and the factories were 
 but little better than prisons. 
 
 Such was the character of the places into one of 
 which young Roger was at this early age intro- 
 duced, and such were the circumstances amidst 
 which he was now cast. Confined here from six in 
 the morning till eight at night, his condition was 
 hard indeed, and was deeply felt to be so by him- 
 self. Such was the influence it exerted on his mind 
 
16 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 that he never, in after life, adverted to the time he 
 spent in the factory without seeming to shudder at 
 the recollection ; or spoke of the system generally 
 acted upon there, without expressing the deepest de- 
 testation respecting it, and sympathy for its young 
 and helpless victims. 
 
 Some time after his being placed here, his sister 
 married, his mother forsook him, and he was again 
 left to shift for himself. His weekly wages at this 
 time had risen to four shillings. This sum, received 
 at the end of each weary week, he had himself so to 
 lay out as to pay for his lodgings for the past, and 
 provide for the wants of the next. 
 
 His education, as might be supposed, had been 
 wholly neglected by his parents ; and, having him- 
 self had to give all his time and energies to the work 
 of self-support, he had been unable to repair the con- 
 sequences of this neglect. And, indeed, engrossed as 
 he was in a continual struggle for mere existence, 
 and exposed, meanwhile, to the influence of circum 
 stances adapted only to debase and deprave, it seems 
 marvellous that he should ever have thought of 
 scholastic or mental improvement at all, or taken a 
 step for its attainment. He had had, however, from 
 an early period, a strong sense of the value of knowl- 
 edge, and a desire to possess it ; and his way being 
 now opened, he entered with great delight the Sab- 
 bath-school connected with the Rev. William Roby's 
 Chapel, Manchester. The instruction offered him 
 in that school is all that, apart from the public min- 
 
PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 istrations of the Gospel, he ever received ; and who 
 can say to what extent it laid the foundation for, 
 and contributed to, the consummation of his ultimate 
 character and usefulness ? 
 
 It is a great and important use of the Sunday- 
 school system, especially as then applied, and as now 
 to a still greater extent applied in the Ragged 
 School, that i-t rescues the most neglected minds from 
 absolute ignorance of letters and of truth, and from 
 entire fwpelessness of scholastic and other mental 
 acquirements. This is in itself a great advantage, 
 but its value is immensely increased by the influence 
 it is adapted afterwards to exert upon those minds. 
 It never ends with itself, but uniformly and power- 
 fully tends to inspire a taste and awaken asj Orations 
 for further improvement, to create confidence as to 
 the practicability of its attainment, and to impart 
 the courage and strength necessary for the purpose. 
 Not unfrequently it has these eiiccts in a very large 
 degree, and so leads to ultimate results of the great- 
 est value. 
 
 It was thus in the case of this poor neglected 
 boy. With a mind naturally robust, ardent, active, 
 and enterprising, strengthened and quickened by the 
 adverse circumstances with which at every step he 
 had had to grapple, he had lived to this period with- 
 out having met with any one to introduce him to 
 the first and simplest elements of learning, or to lead 
 him to feel that even these were within his reach. 
 This, however, being now done for him by the Sun 
 2 
 
18 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 day-school, a new and fairer prospect unfolded itself 
 before him, a fresh and brighter day dawned upon 
 his being, a new life throbbed in his bosom : high 
 and unwonted aspirations arose in his spirit ; ener- 
 gies that had slept woke up into activity, and hope 
 scattered a hitherto unknown gladness all around 
 him ; and, animated and strengthened by these, he 
 set himself diligently to labor at the work of self- 
 education. Night after night, on returning to his 
 home, after being shut up within the walls of a 
 gloomy factory for fourteen hours and upwards, ener- 
 vated with its atmosphere, and worn out by its dull 
 round of duties, he busied himself, without assistance 
 or encouragement from any one, in efforts to learn 
 to write. 
 
 In connection with this desire and endeavor after 
 mental improvement, the Sunday-school contributed 
 to awaken and call forth the more benevolent sympa- 
 thies and energies of his nature, and to prepare him 
 for that work in which he afterwards became so dis- 
 tinguished. While receiving the valued instructions 
 of the school, he was led to appropriate a box to the 
 collection of subscriptions for the evangelization of 
 heathen lands, and was wont himself frequently to 
 deposit in it a portion of his own scanty and precious 
 earnings. He also, even at this age, became the sub- 
 ject of intense longings to become himself a mission- 
 ary of the cross ; and in fact, in the secrecy of his 
 heart, devoted himself to this noble office, and deter- 
 mined to seek the necessary qualifications. 
 
BARBER'S SHOP. 19 
 
 At the age of fourteen, he was hound apprentice 
 to a copperplate printer in Manchester, but his 
 master, it appears, was a worthless man, and in less 
 than three years after, failed in business. Roger was 
 again turned adrift on the sea of life. Incompetent 
 to fill a situation in thu trade to which he had been 
 apprenticed, he was some time at a loss what course 
 to take. At length, in his seventeenth year, he 
 opened a barber's shop, and by this means succeeded 
 for some time in supporting himself in comfort and 
 respectability. 
 
 In the meantime, he had passed from the benches 
 of the Sunday-school to the chair of a teacher, and 
 had been led to decision on the great subject of per- 
 sonal religion. What were the direct and subordi- 
 nate causes leading to this important step, and what 
 the circumstances immediately connected with it, do 
 not now appear. The strong probability is, that these 
 causes were the instructions and engagements of the 
 Sunday-school. All, however, that is certainly known 
 is the fact, that in 1S25 ha was received into, the 
 church assembling in Chapel Street, Salford. 
 
 It is well known to be the practice of barbers gen- 
 erally, in our large towns, to open their shops and 
 conduct their trade on Lord's-days. This is espe- 
 cially the case with those of an inferior order, and in 
 poorer localities. Such, in fact, is the degraded con- 
 dition, in a religious point of view, of great masses of 
 the people of our land, that the barber is required to 
 be in attendance during the entire Sabbath, and finds 
 
20 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 more employment frequently on that day than in all 
 the week besides. It is, consequently, the day on 
 which he principally depends for his support, and to 
 close his shop on that day is, in a great measure, 
 to forego this ; the more so, as his customers are apt 
 to take offence at such a step, and altogether to leave 
 him. Great, therefore, are the sacrifices, and, for a 
 time at least, sore the trials of the man. who in this 
 line of life avows his adherence to Christ, and is con- 
 cerned for consistency in his deportment and char- 
 acter. 
 
 It was so in the case of young Miller. When first 
 he hetook himself to the razor, he appears to have 
 opened his shop for trade on the Sabbath as on other 
 days ; but afterwards, on becoming a teacher in the 
 Sunday-school, and remembering what he had there 
 himself been taught of the sacredness of the Lord's- 
 day, he became unhappy, and determined to make 
 the best use he could of six days of the week, but to 
 do none but " the Lord's work on the Lord's-day." 
 This, purpose was no sooner formed than acted upon ; 
 but from that time his business declined. He sus- 
 tained the trial for some months, but at length, in 
 1826, things became so unfavorable, that he saw he 
 must alter his course in some respects or starve. Un- 
 happily, he listened to the advice of some professor 
 and fellow-member of the same church, less scrupu- 
 lous than himself, and opened his shop on the Sabbath. 
 " In a short time after," adds he, impressively and 
 instructively, " all my real enjoyment in religion, and 
 
IMPROVIDENT MARRIAGE. 
 
 all my desire to attend the means of grace, was 
 gone." 
 
 To what appalling consequences does one false stop 
 give rise ! In his case, many dark years of open 
 apostasy and extreme irreligion and vice ensued, :nsd 
 innumerable troubles, both temporal and spiritual, all 
 apparently resulting from this single act. In Novem- 
 ber, 1820. he married Ann Fielding, of Manchester, 
 whom he had known but three months, and of whom 
 he says, "she made no pretensions to religion ;" and 
 in February of the following year, found himself with 
 his wife, through the depressed state of trade, in cir- 
 cumstances of the extremest distress. At her sug 
 gestion, he sold off his few goods, and started with 
 her for London, resolved, that if his way should not 
 be opened there, before he was compelled to change 
 his last sovereign, he would " immediately enlist for 
 a soldier." 
 
 " I soon found," says he, " that the business of a 
 hairdresser in London was more than I could under- 
 take, and I therefore resolved to try what I could do 
 by getting a master to allow me to finish rny appren- 
 ticeship as a copperplate printer." In this, through 
 the good providence of God, he was successful, though 
 not until he had reached the point of depression as to 
 his finances, at which, accoruing to his determination, 
 he must have entered the army. The master to 
 whom he had engaged himself, was ]\ir. Ephraim 
 Brain, of Butcherall Hall, Newgate Street a good 
 man, a member of the Christian fellowship at Surrey 
 
22 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 Chapel, with which he himself afterwards became 
 united, 'i his gentleman received him. into his estab- 
 lishment, and allowed him to complete the period of 
 his apprenticeship on the most liberal terms. " I 
 was permitted to have two thirds of all I earned, ac- 
 cording to the prevailing standard of wages." His 
 characteristic energy and industry soon rendered him 
 a proficient in the art. Partly on this account, and 
 partly from a generous kindness towards him, his 
 master gave him a large portion of his best work, and 
 young Miller often carried away at the end of the 
 week more wages than many of the journeymen with 
 whom he wrought. He was now placed in circum- 
 stances of physical comfort, and favored with a de- 
 gree of temporal prosperity to which he had previous- 
 ly been a stranger. 
 
 There are persons to whom the smiles of providen- 
 tial favor do not seem to occasion spiritual harm, 
 who, on the contrary, appear to find in these only 
 additional means and motives for the cultivation and 
 exercise of piety. But with the majority it is far 
 otherwise. If adversity " has slain its thousands," 
 prosperity, " has slain its tens of thousands." Too 
 commonly it is but as showers and sunshine to the 
 roots of vice. It was so with young Miller. Feel- 
 ing that now the amusements and pleasures of the 
 world were within his reach, he became passionately 
 enamored of them. Unhappily, his companions in 
 labor were men devoted to them. His naturally 
 frank, cheerful, and generous disposition was fitted 
 
LESS COMFORT. 23 
 
 to make him in himself attractive to any society ; 
 and his skill and success in his trade, his ample means 
 of commanding worldly pleasures, and his newly con- 
 ceived desire for them added to it, rendered him spe- 
 cially so to his dissolute workmates, while his own 
 naturally social disposition and present particular 
 state of mind rendered him strongly susceptible of 
 their influence. How powerful in such circumstan- 
 ces must that influence have been ! and how perni- 
 cious its tendency ! He fell beneath it ! Vain amuse- 
 ments and sensual gratifications became the sole ob- 
 jects of his desire, and these he pursued with blind 
 and delirious eagerness. His home was deserteu 1 , 
 his wife and family abandoned to neglect, and the 
 fruits of his labor, that should have cheered and 
 blessed them, were recklessly squandered upon his 
 own lusts and those of his worthless companions. 
 One circumstance, it ought to be mentioned, that con- 
 tributed thus fearfully to corrupt and debase him, 
 was that of working on Lord's-days, a practice to 
 which, in an establishment he entered on quitting 
 Mr. Brain's, both he and his workmates were syste- 
 matically allured by a premium which was allowed 
 them of fifty per cent, upon their ordinary rate of 
 wages for all they did on these days. 
 
 In this condition of debasement and misery he 
 continued for nine years. Meanwhile, his children. 
 were growing up about him under the worst influ- 
 ences ; their education was wholly neglected, and a 
 moral atmosphere created and thrown around them 
 
24 R03ER MILLER. 
 
 that fostered that waywardness and depravity which 
 afterwards became, both to them and himself, 
 sources of the greatest bitterness. He was not, 
 however, permitted to proceed during all these years 
 in his downward course without frequent and power- 
 ful checks of various kinds. "My mind," says he, 
 " was never at rest, but I carried about with me a 
 conscience that was a very hell." And then there 
 were times when, the temporal prosperity, which 
 had but served to stimulate and feed his worst pas- 
 sions, and hurry him from depth to depth of guilt 
 and misery, was remarkably withdrawn, when his 
 sky was again shrouded in clouds, and the tide and 
 the breeze were turned against him. 
 
 On finishing the term of his apprenticeship, in 
 conformity with the foolish and mischievous usage 
 of the trade, he treated his fellow-workmen to an 
 expensive supper, which he provided at a public- 
 house. There, amid sounds of revelry and mirth, 
 he continued carousing nearly all night. ^loan- 
 while, his neglected wife, alone in her disconsolate 
 home, had been suddenly seized with an affliction 
 that deprived her of the use of her limbs. On re- 
 turning to his abode at about four o'clock the next 
 morning, he found her in a condition of the utmost 
 helplessness, in which she continued "for many 
 months." At the same time, trade declined, and 
 employment failed. Without any resources he was 
 cast ashore, and, together with his family, "reduced 
 almost to a state of starvation." At length, to got 
 
CRISIS. 25 
 
 away from the scenes and associations that had so 
 fearfully accelerated his downward course, he sud- 
 denly resolved to return to Manchester. Very 
 quickly his furniture was packed up, and in a few 
 days himself and family were landed in that town. 
 There th-y found trade depressed, employment un- 
 attainable, and were- compelled to subsist upon their 
 little stock of household goods. Shortly, this resource 
 failed thorn, and they were again, with five children, 
 on the brink of want, when, on the call of a former 
 employer, he returned to London the scene of his 
 greatest temporal prosperity, but of his greatest 
 spiritual prostration. "But," says he, "there was 
 one thing remarkable in connection with this event. 
 I determined, when I got on the coach for London, 
 that I would have nothing to do with my old asso- 
 ciates." The course thus happily resolved upon, he 
 was enabled for some weeks rigidly to keep. After 
 this, however, his resolution gradually gave way. 
 He began freely to mingle with his former compan- 
 ions in sin, and so ventured again within the first 
 circlings of that dreadful whirlpool which had before 
 so nearly drawn him into its dark and frightful vor- 
 tex. At this crisis, he was again rescued by the 
 gracious and wonder-working providence of God. 
 
 He had sallied forth one fine Sabbath morning, 
 the last in December, 1837, with a band of his 
 shopmates, one of those aimless, idle, and unhallowed 
 strolls by which working-men in large towns so fre- 
 quently desecrate God's day, "forsake their own 
 
26 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 mercies," and subject themselves to the most demor- 
 alizing influences ; and was passing \vith them the 
 Chapel in Tottenham Court Road, when a vener- 
 able Christian woman, tottering beneath the wi-iirht 
 of years, and slowly wending her way to the house 
 of God, supported by her staff, placed in each of 
 their hands a tract. It was " A Wonder in Three 
 Worlds." On returning home he read it, became 
 impressed and thoughtful, and in the evening of the 
 same day attended Craven Chapel. Years had 
 passed away since he was wont to resort to the 
 house of God, and now everything appears to have 
 been fraught with influence and suggestion to his 
 mind. The spectacle of so large an assembly of re- 
 ligious worshippers deeply affected him ; the sacred 
 songs poured forth by the sweet and harmonious 
 mingling of its many "blest voices uttering joy," 
 the solemn devotions in which they united, woke up 
 thrilling memories of the past, and prompted sad 
 and sorrowful reflections of the present ; while the 
 venerable aspect of the minister, as he slowly and 
 reverently ascended the pulpit, awed his spirit. 
 The text for the evening was Eph. ii. 1, ' : And 
 you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses 
 and sins." It was "a message from God unto" 
 him. He was deeply affected by the views he 
 received of his own spiritual debasement and misery, 
 and of his extreme guilt as aggravated particularly 
 by the fact of his having formerly made a public 
 profession of religion. His own reflections OA the 
 
BEGINNING- ANEW. 
 
 occasion are affecting 1 and instructive. Having 
 adverted to his fall and subsequent course, he 
 observes : " How important it is that young persons 
 especially, who think they stand and make a profes- 
 sion of religion, should ' take heed lest they iall ;' 
 for though it is well to have repentance, and be 
 humbled thus on account of innumerable sins, yet it 
 is far better to be without those sins. Oh, that this 
 had been my case ! Yet, on the contemplation oi 
 the mercy of God towards me, that I am still on 
 praying ground and pleading terms with Him, I am 
 overpowered with gratitude. 
 
 " ' Oh, the miracle of grace ! 
 
 Tell it round to sinners, tell ; 
 Men, and fiends, and angels, gaze, 
 I am I am out of hell.'" 
 
 During the time in which these important events 
 were taking place, his wife and children wore resid- 
 ing at Manchester. The youngest boy, Walter, had 
 died there, subsequently to his own leaving. This 
 event deeply affected him, and led him to think 
 much of the spiritual condition of the rest of his 
 family. He wrote to his wife, informing her of his 
 own change of heart, and directing her to come to 
 him with their children ; but emphatically stating 
 his intention to have them sent to a Sunday-school, 
 and his wish for herself to accompany him to the 
 house of God. This being fully and joyfully agreed 
 in, his family wert/ quickly with him. " I then 
 
28 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 took," says lie, " a small attic, in which we lived at 
 a low rent. As trade was bad, we had sometimes 
 only one meal a-day. But in all this we were 
 more happy than ever we had been before. The 
 children, who had been neglected, now went to day 
 and Sunday schools at Cr'vc.n, and we ourselves 
 attended the ch. 
 
 In the following April he became a candidate for 
 membership with the church assembling here. His 
 letter on the subject, addressed to the venerable 
 pastor, is int.- Alter adverting to the en- 
 
 couragement that had been given him by members 
 of the church to seek this privilege, lie says, " I have 
 paused on account of my not being known, and of 
 my dread of falling away ; but I feel it to be a 
 solemn duty, and should deem it a privilege of no 
 small value, to sit down at the table of the Lord. I 
 conclude to offer myself as a candidate to your 
 church ; and as I have been the servant of sin, so 
 now I pray, that I may be made a servant t<> the 
 cause of Him whom I have persecuted. Remember 
 me in your prayers, that whether admitted to your 
 church or rejected, I may be a student of the cross, 
 and that my chief grace may be humility." 
 
 His union with the church was, from some cause, 
 deferred for several months. In the meantime, he 
 continued regularly and devoutly to attend the pub- 
 lic services of God's house, diligently to seek the 
 spiritual welfare of his family, to visit the sick, and 
 
THE WANDERER RETURNED. 29 
 
 to promote meetings for social instruction and 
 prayer. 
 
 Under date of September 2, 1838, we have from 
 his own pen the following interesting entry : 
 " This is the first time I have sat down with the 
 people of God at the Lord's Supper at Craven. Oh ! 
 how solemn is the thought to me on taking a retro- 
 spective view /, the most undeserving of all, / go 
 there as a backslider, as one that has received end- 
 less blessings from the hand of God, but never till of 
 late saw my need of a Saviour, although I have 
 professed to know myself, and serve my God. 
 Lord, forgive the past, and bid me now look forward 
 to 'the prize of my high calling.' Teach me to 
 walk in thy statutes, to love thee more, and serve 
 thee with humility, with reverence, and godly fear. 
 May my communion be with the Father, and his 
 son Jesus Christ ! May this day's proceedings prove 
 to be the beginning of good things to my soul, and 
 its enjoyments but a foretaste of heavenly joys that 
 shall never end ! Lord God, into thy hands I now 
 commit myself. Oh ! teach me thy holy will, and 
 bless me with thy divine presence. Bless my father 
 in Christ and pastor, and his message to us, and 
 grant that as one holy family we may be knit to- 
 gether in love." 
 
PART II. 
 
 IT is " through much tribulation we must enter 
 the kingdom." That tribulation forms an essential 
 element in the discipline of our heavenly Father, 
 and an indispensable means of fitting us for all the 
 high purposes of our Christian calling ; of purifying 
 and elevating our own spiritual nalure, fitting it for 
 the reception of divine and celestial wisdom, devel- 
 oping our sympathies with the condition of others, 
 qualifying us for usefulness to them ; and finally, of 
 furthering our meetness for " the inheritance of the 
 saints in light." It is accordingly, for the most part, 
 allotted largely to the people of God, particularly 
 such as are destined for special service and reward. 
 It \vas so with Mr. Miller. He had been admitted 
 again to Christian fellowship but three months, when 
 he was suddenly, and under perhaps the most dis- 
 tressing circumstances, bereaved of his wife, and left 
 alone with the charge of fivo children, the youngest 
 of them but three days old. She died on Christmas 
 day, 1838. 
 
 From the time that he himself had been led to 
 return to God and to find peace and hope through 
 "believing, he had exerted himself anxiously and 
 
DOMESTIC TROUBLES. 31 
 
 prayerfully to promote the conversion of his wife and 
 family. In the case of the former his efforts appear 
 to have been crowned with success, and now, when 
 called to resign her to death, he v/as cheered with 
 the hope of a reunion in the skies. The result in 
 the case of his children, the two older particularly, 
 does not appear to have been in any degree so satis- 
 factory. Owing, it may be, to scrne extent, to the 
 neglect and to the many vitiating influences to which 
 they had previously been exposed, they had become 
 the subjects of a waywardness and perversity which 
 lie found himself utterly unable to control. Thomas, 
 the elder, became a source of the most painful 
 affliction and trial. Self-willed, dishonest, and in- 
 tractable, he forfeited the respect arid confidence of 
 all by whom he was employed, and rendered abortive 
 every effort for his welfare. He at length determined 
 to go to sea, and because discountenanced in seeking 
 this object forsook his home for the space of an en- 
 tire week ; his father, meanwhile, with a bleeding 
 heart, pacing the streets of London night and day, 
 almost continually, and led at last to conclude that 
 the wretched boy must have perished in the Thames 
 a miserable suicide. A few months after this he 
 again disappeared. As a last resource his father 
 consented to apprentice him to the sea. The ship 
 to which he was bound was one in the Norway 
 fishery. After a single voyage he ran away, and 
 having travelled full forty miles, arrived at Comp- 
 stall, near Manchester, destitute and almost naked. 
 
32 ROGEH MILLER. 
 
 Here lie managed, for some time, in various ways, to 
 eke out for himself a poor and precarious subsistence. 
 He was then driven by want to return to his father, 
 and was airain sent out to sea. In June, 1844, he 
 was apprenticed on board the Missionary ship "John 
 Williams," and fitted out for his voyage, at great ex- 
 pense to his father. And now the father's heart was 
 filled with joy, fondly hoping the event would be his 
 boy's salvation. " Thanks be to God," exclaimed he, 
 "he is now happy ! he has got the desire of his heart. 
 Though he has been at sea for four years, and seen 
 many perils, he has been only among wicked men ; 
 but now he is in a ship where every man is pious, 
 and each boy a son of pious parents. May the Lord 
 watch over the interests of the ship, and if permit- 
 ted to return, may my lad be numbered with them 
 who live by faith on the Son of God !" In this 
 hope, however, he was disappointed, for in Decem- 
 ber of the same year we find Thomas at Goulbourne, 
 in Australia, 250 miles off Sydney, in the service of 
 Captain -Ho well, a wealthy magistrate. He after- 
 wards left this place, and at length vanished alto- 
 gether from the view of his friends, and is supposed 
 to have been lost. 
 
 Robert, the next in age, followed in a great de- 
 gree in his brother's footsteps. From the same 
 causes, he too was apprenticed to the sea, and after 
 a few voyages perished off the coast of Shields. 
 
 But " as was his day, so was his strength." In 
 some notes, written under date of December 25th, 
 
LABORS OF LOVE. 33 
 
 1839, he says, after adverting to these events, and 
 particularly to the death of his wife, of which this 
 was the first anniversary, " Twelve months have 
 since passed away. I acknowledge the hand of God, 
 and own as host what He sees fit to appoint. I can 
 truly say that he has upheld rne. He has led me 
 into green pastures, and made rne to lie ({own beside 
 still waters. He has restored my soul, and now 
 shall my head be lilted up. . . . But I must 
 still sit at the feet of Jesus. Humility w<-l' nc'-omey 
 such a guilty, worthless worm. Lord, teach me to 
 be humble !" 
 
 During all this time, Mr. Miller exhibited uncom- 
 mon zeal and energy in the cause of the Lord Jesus. 
 The circle of his own family first engaged his efforts, 
 but it did not wholly engross them. Soon after be- 
 coming a member of the church at Craven, he es- 
 tablished and conducted three prayer-meetings, every 
 week, delivering at each of them a suitable address. 
 He also formed a Bible-class for young men, almost 
 all of whom afterwards became members of the 
 church at Craven, and, as a token of their gratitude 
 and esteem, presented him with a handsome copy 
 of Cruden's " Concordance to the Bible." At the 
 same time he was distinguished for extraordinary 
 activity in visiting the sick and dying. 
 
 In the midst of these humble but devoted labors, 
 he frequently looked around on the field of evangeli- 
 cal enterprise occupied by the various great societies 
 of our day, and read with thrilling interest the pub- 
 3 
 
34 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 lished reports of their operations. By these causes, 
 the missionary sympathies and aspirations which he 
 appears first to have conceived iu rouncction with 
 his earliest religious inspirations in the Sabbath- 
 school, were again called forth, and he sighed for a 
 larger sphere and fuller consecration to the great 
 work. Both of these he at length obtained in con- 
 nection with " The London City Mission." 
 
 This unassuming but great society is one of the 
 most nourishing of those originated by the benevo- 
 lent, the enterprising, and devoted David Nasmith. 
 It is in every respect one of the most admirable and 
 valuable institutions of the age. It consists of pious 
 and benevolent individuals of all denominations of 
 evangelical Christians, and its object is to employ 
 intelligent, kind-hearted, godly, and laborious lay- 
 men, in the regular and systematic visitation, espe- 
 cially of the poorer classes of London and its vicinity, 
 at their homes, privately to read and expound to 
 them the Scriptures, freely to converse with them on 
 all religious subjects ; to circulate religious tracts, 
 books, and the Bible ; to hold meetings for prayer 
 and Biblical exposition, and otherwise promote their 
 spiritual, moral, and general instruction and welfare. 
 
 No object could be more important, no agency 
 more necessary. London alone contains, at the pres- 
 ent time, two millions and a half of people a num- 
 ber more -than twice as great as that of the entire 
 population of Wales ; more than double that of the 
 inhabitants of all other country towns and cities of 
 
CLAIMS OF LONDON. 35 
 
 England and of the Principality together ; and 
 nearly equal to the whole of that of Scotland . And 
 this prodigious population is increasing a 
 of thirty thousand, a number equal to that of the 
 city of York, every year. Its need of spiritual agency 
 is not only proportioned to the greatness of its? popu- 
 lation ; it is immensely augmented by their living 
 upon one spot. Then its relation to all other parts 
 of these realms, and indeed to mankind at large, is 
 one of stupendous importance. It is the great em- 
 porium of the world, arid its principal centre of influ- 
 ence. All nations flow into it, and are extensively 
 and powerfully affected by it, for their weal or woe. 
 It is in many respects tficir mighty heart, and upon 
 it depends largely their moral and general condition. 
 Everywhere its spirit is diflused, its habits and cus- 
 toms are reproduced, and its virtues and vices are 
 reflected. Yet what are its circumstances with ref- 
 erence to the ordinary means of religious instruction 
 and evangelization ? It is well known that they 
 are such as do not provide for one half of its inhab- 
 itants. If every church and chapel in the metropo- 
 lis were filled by regular hearers, not more than 
 that number could be accommodated with the min- 
 istrations of the Gospel. At present this is very far 
 from being the case ; and yet such are the circum- 
 stances of the ministers of religion, as to render pri- 
 vate visitation and instruction by many of them all 
 but impracticable. In reference to the ordinary 
 means of religious teaching and culture, the condi- 
 
36 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 tion of the people of Christian England's great and 
 proud metropolis is worse, by one half, than that of 
 Scotland, Wales, or any other part of our own coun- 
 try, and in fact, in a great degree, than many por- 
 tions of the heathen world. It is a startling fact, 
 that Jamaica, Sierra Leone, New Zealand, and some 
 of the Friendly Islands in the South Pacific, are, 
 and have been for years, better provided for than 
 London. 
 
 Meanwhile, the most numerous, diversified, and 
 mighty agencies for evil are here concentrated, and 
 at work continually. Theatres and operas for every 
 class : gin-palaces and beer-shops, accompanied by 
 every conceivable attraction*; publications the most 
 lascivious, profane, and infidel, in the utmost vari- 
 ety, sent forth in daily tides over all society ; houses 
 in vast numbers dedicated to debauchery, and an ex- 
 tensive, subtle, and active agency systematically di- 
 rected to its promotion. 
 
 The actual moral and religious condition of a 
 great portion of the people is accordingly, as might 
 be expected, far worse than that of many heathen 
 lands. Full three fourths of that mighty population 
 live in the habitual neglect of all public worship 
 and sacred teaching. The Sabbath is very exten- 
 sively turned into a day of extraordinary traffic, of 
 dissipation, and profane pleasure. In the eloquent 
 language of a living writer, " In many districts the 
 ordinary market is quickened into the bustle and 
 riot of a fall ; the quiet of the week is broken up by 
 
STATISTICS OF VICE. 37 
 
 the carnival of the Sabbath ; the great volcano of 
 iniquity heaves, and rises, and discharges its desul- 
 tory contents for miles round . . . arid vice 
 holds her saturnalia." There is a vast leaven of 
 infidelity, sometimes more vague, sometimes more 
 decided. There are calculated to be not less than 
 23,000 habitual drunkards annually found helplessly 
 drunk in. the streets; about 150,000 are habitual 
 gin-drinkers. There are, it is stated, 20,000 beg- 
 gars, 30,000 thieves, 6,000 receivers of stolen goods, 
 4,000 annually committed for criminal offences, 
 10,000 persons addicted to {rambling, 5,000 houses 
 of ill fame, about 150,000 devoted to debauchery, 
 and 12,000 children being systematically trained to 
 follow in their steps, arid fill up their places. Most 
 truly has it been said, " The state of many parts of 
 heathen lands, to which foreign missionaries are sent, 
 is as a paradise compared with many parts of Lon- 
 don." " It is a fact," says a discriminating and 
 powerful writer in an early number of the Journal 
 of Civilization (and the case is still substantially the 
 same), "that in St. Giles's and the back streets of 
 Drury Lane, around Westminster Abbey, in the par- 
 ishes of Bethnal-green and Shoreditch, and nearly 
 all along the Surrey side of the river, a state ef so- 
 cial civilization exists as low as is to be found in the 
 far-olT rogions of Africa. . . . Here in England, 
 in Lon/ m, perhaps at our own back doors, wretch- 
 edness the most acute, infamy the most shocking, 
 exists upon the same square acre with a high con- 
 
38 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 dition of luxury and wealth." It is impcssible, 
 therefore, to conceive of a more urgent and solemn 
 necessity than that which existed, and which still 
 exists, for some such extraordinary agency as that 
 employed by this body. None such, however, ex- 
 cept the Christian Instruction Society, exist d pre- 
 viously to this, and that was then very limited in 
 its operations, both as to the time given to them and 
 the sphere they occupied. It was not till alter this 
 period, that it began to srt apart men for its work. 
 " The Pastoral Aid," and " The Scripture Headers' " 
 Societies, have arisen since, and are, in fact, : 
 spring of the City Mission. When this society com- 
 menced its operations in 1835, it had but four 
 agents, now it has 240 ; and most happy, and, in 
 some instances marvellous, are the results that have 
 arisen out of its labors.*' 
 
 Into the service of the mission Mr. Miller entered 
 in April, 18-10. The spirit in which he offered 
 himself for it may be seen from the following obser- 
 vations, written by him at the time : " I have a 
 long time endeavored to persuade myself that I am 
 not called to this important work ; but, after all, 
 when I read the word of God, and the reports of 
 this and other institutions, I feel compelled to look 
 upon myself as an indolent follower of Christ. I 
 have sought the direction of God, and the advice of 
 many friends, and have taken all pains to be guided 
 aright, and I am now induced, in dependence upon 
 
 * See the Reports and Magazines published Vy the Society. 
 
SCENE OF HIS LABORS. 39 
 
 the all-wise God, to offer myself to the London City 
 Mission." After passing through the usual exami- 
 nations he was received, and forthwith appointed to 
 the district which became the scene of his future 
 labors. It is that of Broadwall, Lambeth. This 
 district is bounded on the north by Stamford Street, 
 on the south by Great Charlotte Street, on the east 
 by Black friars Road, and on the west by various 
 courts and streets. It contained six streets and 
 thirteen courts, 440 houses and 710 visitable fami- 
 lies, and 1,368 adults. The courts and places are 
 miserably confined, and without provision for their 
 being ventilated or cleansed ; they are, consequently, 
 close and filthy in the extreme. " We have pene- 
 trated," says Lord Ashley, referring to this and other 
 similar localities, " alleys terminating in a cul de sac, 
 long and narrow like a tobacco-pipe, where air and 
 sunshine were never known. On one side rose 
 walls several feet in height, blackened with damp 
 and slime ; on the other side stood dwellings still 
 more revolting, while the breadth of the wet and 
 bestrewed passage would by no means allow us the 
 full expansion of our arms. We have waited at the 
 entrance of another of similar character and dimen- 
 sions, but forbidden by the force and pungency of 
 the odors to examine its recesses. Pass to another 
 district, you may think it less confined ; but there 
 you will see flowing before each hovel, and within 
 a few feet of it, a broad, black, uncovered stream, 
 exhaling at every point the most unwholesome 
 
40 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 vapors. If there be not a drain, there is a stagnant 
 pool ; touch either with your stick, and the mephilic 
 mass will yield up its poisonous pas, like the corus- 
 cations of soda-water. Here reigns a melancholy 
 silence, seldom broken but by an irritated wold, or a 
 pugnacious drunkard. . . . The interior of the 
 dwellings is in strict keeping, the smaller space of 
 the apartments increasing, of course, the evils that 
 prevail without, damp, darkness, dirt, and foul 
 air. Many are wholly destitute of furniture ; many 
 contain nothing except a table and a chair 
 few have a common bed for all ages and lot/: 
 but a large proportion of the denizens of these regions 
 lie on a heap of rags, more nasty than the floor 
 itself. Happy is the family that can boast of a 
 single room to itself, and in that room a dry corner." 
 The houses are inhabited chiefly by the lowest 
 order of shoemakers, coal-heavers, dustmen, coster- 
 mongers, small hucksters ; and several of the courts 
 particularly, were tenanted wholly by young thieves 
 and prostitutes. The larger and better streets are 
 narrow and badly drained, and are occupied by a 
 population extremely diversified in their social posi- 
 tion and physical circumstances, generally very 
 poor, and, in a religious and moral point of view, 
 most degraded. Of near 700 families, only 88 made 
 any pretensions to attending a place of worship, and 
 107 were totally destitute of the Scriptures. The 
 Sabbath was neglected, and made a day of business 
 and dissipation. Drunkenness, lewdness, profane 
 
STATE OF THE PEOPLE. 41 
 
 swearing, and violence, were almost everywhere 
 predominant, rioting amid the wreck and ruin of all 
 that is dignified or dear in individual, domestic, or 
 social life. The following case, recorded by Mr. 
 Miller, may be regarded as the type of a very 
 numerous class, and may serve to indicate the grand 
 source of their debasement and misery : " Mr. and 
 
 Mrs. M , of Place, are great drunkards. 
 
 Although Mrs. M. has not been able to walk for the 
 last twelve months but by the help of others, she is 
 constantly under the influence of drink. They have 
 a family of five children. The eldest boy has no 
 clothing, save a shirt; the eldest girl has only a 
 ragged frock ; and the rest are so utterly destitute 
 as to be compelled during the cold weather to keep 
 their bed. The room is dark, has no ventilation, 
 and has never been cleaned since they first entered 
 it. There is a single bedstead that serves for one 
 whole family, with a miserable bed, and scanty and 
 filthy covering. The whole scene is one of the 
 extrerncst wretchedness. On entering on one occa- 
 sion, I found Mr. M. at dinner. The table had 
 been put close to the bed for the accommodation of 
 his wife, she being destitute of all clothing. They 
 had four pounds of boiled neck of mutton in the lid 
 of a saucepan, which was used as the substitute for 
 a difch. The potatoes were rolling about upon the 
 bare table, and there was not a plate to be seen. 
 The family presented one of the most brutish scenes 
 I ever beheld. I have no hesitation in saying, that 
 
42 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 the children have never been properly washed, nor 
 have had their hair once combed out. They were 
 always accustomed to plead poverty ; but on inquir- 
 ing, I found Mr. M. was in a constant situation, and 
 had been for many years, and that he was in the 
 receipt of wages to the amount of l 5s. per week." 
 Such was the moral waste he was sent to reclaim 
 and cultivate. 
 
 In the meantime he had married a second wife, 
 who, as he records, became eminently useful to him, 
 especially as a helper in his work. Having remov- 
 ed with his family to the district allotted him, he 
 devoted himself to its welfare with singular but 
 characteristic ardor, courage, and perseverance. 
 The notices left by him of his labors and their re- 
 sults are, with comparatively few exceptions, of the 
 most general character, and consequently afford very 
 inadequate means for presenting any but an imper- 
 fect and meagre sketch of them. He was a man of 
 action, not of eloquence ; for the field, not the closet 
 or the forum. He had great practical skill and 
 power, but had not literary tastes and acquirements. 
 All his sympathies were with the deep, varied, and 
 wide-spread degradation and misery that lived and 
 breathed, that wept and groaned, on every hand 
 around ; and all his aspirations were for its amelior- 
 ation or removal ; and after this he panted and toil- 
 ed with an earnestness, patience, and perseverance, 
 rarely equalled. 
 
 His first report was presented in October, 1840, 
 
FIRST REPORT. 43 
 
 in which he remarks : " In the course of my visits, 
 I have had much to contend with, as the people 
 seem to be unacquainted with the nature of my work ; 
 but, notwithstanding 1 , I have met with a much more 
 favorable reception than I expected, and am led to 
 believe, that through the goodness of God my labors 
 will be blessed to the locality." 
 
 Among the first cases that came before him was 
 one exemplifying strongly, on the one hand, the awful 
 effects of dissipation, and, on the other, the powor of 
 
 early religious training". " At No. 5, Place," 
 
 says he, " I met with a young man, who, when I 
 spoke to him about religion, broke out into the fol- 
 lowing confession : ' I have lived a most wretched 
 life. My only aim has been to gratify my voluptu- 
 ous passions. I have spent upon them, during the 
 last twelve years, nearly X 14, 000. I have never, 
 during the whole of that time, been properly sober. 
 My mother, to whom I have been a perpetual grief, 
 gave me a religious education, and I am persuaded 
 I shall never fail to feel the effects of it on my miud. 
 I am under the accusation of my own conscience 
 continually ; and, sir, eventually it will lead me to 
 repentance not to be repented of, or it will lead me 
 to madness.' " 
 
 He was not permitted long to continue his ardu- 
 ous labors without seeing instances of what he felt 
 to be the highest order of usefulness instances 
 which filled his heart with emotions of joy far more 
 exalted than those of the warrior who sees his arms 
 
44 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 crowned with victor} 7 , and his enemy prostrate at his 
 
 feet. Calling on September 3, at No. 7, 
 
 Street, he found in the back kitchen a poor woman 
 extremely ill. " I stated," says he. " what was the 
 object of my visit. She replied, ' The Lord must 
 have sent you to me, for I am most miserable.' " 
 She was under an impression that she had commit- 
 ted " the unpardonable sin," and that there was no 
 hope for her soul. He succeeded in convincing her 
 of her error in this respect, and by persevering at- 
 tention and teaching was enabled to lead her to what 
 appears to have been a saving acquaintance with 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. " I now see," exclaimed 
 she, " that all my own works are of no use in saving 
 me ; that if I am saved, it must be through the 
 righteousness of Christ. But, sir, it is you the Lord 
 has employed to teach me this, and if you had not 
 come to see me I should have died deceiving myself, 
 and hell would have been my eternal doom." " I 
 continued," says Mr. Miller, " to visit her frequently, 
 until Oct. 26th. When calling upon her, she said v 
 1 It will soon be no more with me here, and I am 
 glad of it. The Lord Jesus is my friend, why should 
 I wish to stay away from him ?' As I parted from 
 her, she pressed my hand, and said, solemnly and 
 affectionately, ' The Lord be with you, my best of 
 earthly friends, and make you a blessing to the souls 
 of men. Farewell till we meet in heaven !' She 
 paused a few moments, and then said, ' The Lord is 
 my light and my salvation ; and a short time after, 
 
SYMPATHY WITH THE SUFFERING. 45 
 
 ' Jesus ! take me to thyself.' These were her last 
 words." 
 
 His office as a city missionary had to do only with 
 the spiritual welfare of the poor among whom he 
 labored. But while chiefly seeking this, he also 
 took a lively interest in their temporal circumstances, 
 and often exerted himself greatly in their behalf. 
 "Calling," says he, " in November, 1840, at No. 1, 
 - Place, I found a poor woman lying in one cor- 
 ner of the room in a state of extreme mid dangerous 
 illness. On inquiring into her condition, she told 
 me as well as she was able, that she had given birth 
 that morning to a still-born child. A surgeon had 
 been with her, the one provided by the parish, and 
 had prescribed for her, but had left her without med- 
 icine, and she had neither money, nor fire, nor food, 
 nor any one to attend her." In a few minutes Mr. 
 Miller provided her with medical and pecuniary as- 
 sistance, through which she was restored, and, 
 together with her husband, she became a glad attend- 
 ant at his religious meeting. 
 
 During the following month, he succeeded in in- 
 
 a number of females to unite for the distri- 
 bution of religious tracts amonic the poor girls " on 
 fkc streets" in arid about his district, and by this 
 means was enabled to restore in virtue and respecta- 
 bility a number of these most degraded arid wretch- 
 ed creatures. The following case formed the first 
 fruits : A member of the little female band above 
 referred to, meeting with one of these debased and 
 
46 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 unhappy girls, spoke to her affectionately of her 
 manner of life, and exhorted and encouraged her to 
 abandon it. After some demur and inquiry, the girl 
 finding that the thing was practical)!'', and that still 
 there was hope for her, consented, and was taken to 
 Mr. Miller's house. Sho was a native of Oxford. 
 Her mother was the keeper of a house of bad repute 
 in that city. There, amid the peculiarly debasing 
 and depraving influences of which such a house is 
 the centre, she had been bom and brought up, and 
 at length, after being trained for the purpose, had 
 been by her own mother devoted to infamy. She 
 had been sold for 10! How unnatural! how 
 monstrous the spirit of that mother ! how hard the 
 lot of that poor girl ! Not harder was the case of 
 those who were offered in flames as an holocaust to 
 Moloch, or thrown into the Ganges as a sacrifice to 
 the fabled God of that river. She abode at his 
 liouse for eight days ; after which he obtained for 
 her admission into the South London Asylum. Here 
 he continued to visit and converse with her on sub- 
 jects pertaining to her spiritual and moral well- 
 being, and was the means of effecting in her what 
 appeared to be a gracious and hopeful change. She 
 was removed on the 27th of January to Lock's-fields 
 Asylum ; and, after undergoing four painful opera- 
 tions, was thrown into a wasting condition. " But," 
 says Mr. Miller, " her faith and patience are such as 
 would render her a pattern to many of greater pre- 
 tensions. She rejoices especially in the recollection 
 
DESIGNS OF THE FEMALE MISSION. 47 
 
 that she has been brought to seek the Lord, and ex- 
 presses the utmost confidence in God, and resigna- 
 tion to his will." 
 
 The association of females above referred to was 
 in the following month, through his efforts, united to 
 the " London Female Mission," and became what is 
 now called the " Southwark Auxiliary'" to that so- 
 ciety. Its constitution and design will appear from 
 a statement published at the time. 
 
 "I. This society shall be called ' The Southwark 
 Auxiliary to the London Female Mission.' 
 
 " II. The design of the society shall be to promote 
 the moral and spiritual improvement of females. 
 
 " III. In order to accomplish this design, the fol- 
 lowing, amongst other measures, shall be adopted : 
 
 " 1. To form associations of mothers, of unmarried 
 women, and of girls, for the purpose of communica- 
 ting information calculated to help mothers in train- 
 ing their offspring, to enlighten the mind, to save 
 from temptation, and direct the energies of young 
 women of good character, and to assist in training 
 such as are growing up to womanhood, in a manner 
 that may render them a blessing to society. 
 
 "2. To promote the improvement of female ser- 
 vants, and to introduce those of respectable character, 
 when out of place, to the Servant's Home, 3 Mill- 
 man Place, Bedford Row. 
 
 "3. To secure a temporary refuge, with employ- 
 ment and instruction, for indigent young women of 
 good character, through the medium of the Refuge 
 
48 ROGER -MILLER. 
 
 for Indigent Females, SA, Princes Street, Red Lion 
 Square. 
 
 " 4. To assist deserving females in finding situa- 
 tions in which they may procure an honest livelihood. 
 
 "5. To secure the admission of fallen females, de- 
 sirous of returning to the paths of virtue, into the 
 Probationary House of the London Female Mission." 
 
 And the spirit in which this society arose, and in 
 which it was subsequently conducted, is well and 
 afiectingly represented in an appeal printed with the 
 above. It is that of 
 
 " THE OUTCAST." 
 
 OH, turn not such a with'ring look 
 
 On one who still can feel ; 
 Nor, by a col<l .and harsh rebuke, 
 
 An outcast's misery soul. 
 But think, ere thus the mourner's sigh, 
 
 The mourner's tears vou spurn, 
 That 'tis perhaps a friend on high 
 
 Who prompts my late return. 
 
 Oh, say not, then, the cup of wrath 
 
 I must submit to drain, 
 When in that safe and narrow path 
 
 I wish to tread again. 
 It is not thus the Gospel speaks 
 
 To those who cease from sin ; 
 The soul, Messiah's fold that seeks, 
 
 Is ever welcom'd in. 
 
 The haunts of vice might pleasing seem, 
 
 When first I long'd to stray ; 
 But, oh ! one hour dispelled the dream, 
 
 And dash'd my joys away : 
 
MAGDALEN. 49 
 
 Amidst the crowds in pleasure's bower, 
 
 My heart was still forlorn ; 
 And where I thought to find a flower, 
 
 I only felt a thorn. 
 
 And say not that my guilt is great, 
 
 I know, I feel 'tis true; 
 But while I groan beneath its weight, 
 
 I hope for pardon too. 
 Beyond the reach of grace divine 
 
 Myself I have not thrown ; 
 And once at least to guilt like mine 
 
 My Lord has mercy shown. 
 
 When such a wandering sheep as I 
 
 Was unto Jesus brought, 
 And all the cruel standers-by 
 
 A rigid sentence sought : 
 The feeble reed he would not break, 
 
 Though it was bruised sore ; 
 The gentle words the Saviour spoke 
 
 Were, " Go, and sin no more." 
 
 His home became for a time the office of the Aux- 
 iliary ; and here all their business, during that period, 
 was transacted. This institution became, in many 
 ways, a most valuable agency to him for usefulness. 
 The following is an instance. 
 
 In visiting a family in his district in January, 
 1841, he met with a young woman who had been 
 taken by a person out of the Magdalen Hospital about 
 a week before, with the promise of a home till he 
 should get her a situation. In this she had been de- 
 ceived by him. The little money she possessed on 
 leaving the hospital had ail been spent, and, she not 
 4 
 
50 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 knowing what to do, had come here to consult with 
 a friend. She said she could not think of going into 
 service unless with a pious family. On inquiring into 
 the case, Mr. Miller found it to be one " of the great- 
 est interest ;" he therefore recommended it to the 
 Southwark Auxiliary to the Female Mission, who 
 immediately provided her with what was necessary, 
 and afterwards found her a situation in the house of 
 one of the ladies, in which she appears to have con- 
 ducted herself with perfect propriety. 
 
 But there were many still more striking instan- 
 ces of the use he made of this institution, and of the 
 good he was enabled to accomplish through its agen- 
 cy ; one occurred about this time, which must be 
 
 mentioned. Fanny was a native of Tunbridge 
 
 Wells. She had at an early period gone into do- 
 mestic service, and had occupied a situation in a re- 
 spectable house in Brighton ; while there, she had 
 been induced to resort to the theatre, and led to con- 
 ceive a passion for the stage. By some means she 
 became acquainted with the performers, whom she 
 afterwards accompanied to London. Soon she found 
 her way to " the street.'' She was a tall and re- 
 markably fine-looking young woman, and was distin- 
 guished by great energy of feeling and of purpose. 
 One vice introduced another, and her entire moral 
 nature went rapidly to decay : extreme drunkenness 
 was added to other forms of the grossest licentious- 
 ness, and in all she became singularly bold, shame- 
 
ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. 51 
 
 less, abandoned. There was no description of wicked- 
 ness from which she would shrink. 
 
 Not (infrequently would she steal away at early 
 day with the clothes of the wretched men whom 
 she had caught by " her much fair speech and flat- 
 tering words," and pawned them for drink before 
 they arose from their miserable couch of sin and 
 shame. The watchman of Farririgdon Street she 
 fearlessly defied, and more than once felled to the 
 ground. She was, in fact, the terror of the neigh- 
 borhood, and even the police, from very fear, ab- 
 stained from interference with her, and carefully 
 stood aloof. She continued in this downward course, 
 until at length, in a fit of drunkenness and despera- 
 tion, amid the darkness and silence of night, when 
 the mighty mass of London's population were assem- 
 bled in scenes of pleasure or gathered around their 
 peaceful hearths, this wretched slave of sin had 
 hurried, with dismal and tumultuous thoughts, to 
 Waterloo Bridge, and was in the act of casting her- 
 self from its fearful height into the Thames below, 
 when a stranger, passing, arrested and saved her. 
 She was taken to a neighboring house, and subse- 
 quently to Mr. Miller. She was then but twenty- 
 two. . There were no signs of remorse or shame for 
 her past manner of life, and no solicitude to be res- 
 cued from it. She abode with Mr. Miller near a 
 fortnight, and then entered the White Lion Street 
 Female Penitentiary ; for her admission into which, 
 in the meantime, he had provided. Here she con- 
 
52 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 tinned for somewhat more than six months, at an 
 expense of five shilling's per week, obtained by him 
 for her ; after which, for her good conduct, she was 
 transferred to the Mearil Street Asylum, and pro- 
 vided for freely. She was a good needlewoman, 
 and as such became useful in the institution. She 
 was also a person of general practical ability, and 
 of active disposition ; she, accordingly, conceived a 
 wish to leave the asylum for service ; and, being 
 opposed in thi,, effected her escape from the institu- 
 tion. Mr. Miller, en hearing of it, hastened in pur- 
 suit of her. . He found her in a private house, and 
 induced her to accompany him to the house of a 
 lady of the Committee of Management ; in connec- 
 tion with whom he succeeded in getting her fur- 
 nished with suitable personal clothing, and intro- 
 duced her to a situation in a respectable family as a 
 domestic servant. She continued in service for 
 upwards of two years. She was then married by a 
 respectable artisan in London, a widower with two 
 children. Both he and his children, who before 
 were poor and wretched, notwithstanding constant 
 employment, became under her management com- 
 fortable in their circumstances, and respectable in 
 their appearance ; and their home, that had been 
 distracted and joyless, became the scene of order and 
 happiness. She also, with her husband, commenced 
 occasional attendance on public worship, which 
 they had been accustomed wholly to neglect ; and 
 frequently, in after years, did she weep most bitterly 
 
PLEASURES OF SIX. 53 
 
 at the remembrance of her guilt and shame. She 
 continued in frequent and intimate intercourse with 
 Mr. Miller and his family, and often said that she 
 looked upon him as her father, and that she could 
 not have loved him more had he been such. They 
 both fell victims to the terrible pestilence that 
 swept the Metropolis and devastated so many homes 
 and hearts in the summer of 1849. After having 
 assiduously watched and tenderly soothed one of his 
 daughters, who fell beneath that scourge, they both 
 retired to die by it themselves, the daughter ex- 
 pired on the Thursday, and they on the following 
 Sunday. 
 
 Many of these poor creatures, amidst all the levity 
 they exhibit, he found were the subjects of deep-felt 
 dissatisfaction with the way in which they were living, 
 and secret longings to escape from it. The following 
 case, which occurred to him in his visits during 
 March in the same year, will exemplify this : At No. 
 
 5, Court, he found a young woman, who said 
 
 she should be glad if she could get out of such a 
 course of sin, but feared this was impossible. She 
 said, " I am well convinced of its wickedness, and 
 when I think of it, it is more than I can bear. The 
 thought often drives me to drinking ; and what will 
 be the end of it I cannot tell." 
 
 One of the effects of his labors was the prevalence 
 of an esteem and love for the word of God, where 
 that word had been neglected and despised. On 
 visiting, in the May of this year, one court, he says, 
 
54 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 "Mrs. , of No. 5, called to me and said, 'I 
 
 want to see you before yon leave the court.' I 
 accordingly called upon her, and found her full of 
 joy. ' I've got a Bible, sir,' exclaimed she ; ' and 
 so cheap.' Then, goinar to her cupboard, she brought 
 forth her treasure, and hcldiivr it up for me to view, 
 said, ' There, sir, how much do you think I gave 
 for that?' I observed, ' It is without backs ; I sup- 
 pose you have given fourpenoe a pound for it.' 
 ' Yes, I have ; and it cost me ninepence at the but- 
 ter shop. Is it not a shame that the word of God 
 should be served PO ?' Then, after a short pause, 
 she added, ' But I must not be too hard upon the 
 poor creatures, as I should have done the same my- 
 self before you came to see me.' " 
 
 As might be supposed, his work was frequently 
 attended with great difficulties, and required no ordi- 
 nary measure of courage. Nor was that courage at 
 any time wanting to him. The following case will 
 
 illustrate this. " In Court there were three 
 
 men who were the terror of the place. Having 
 repeatedly heard of their determined violence against 
 me, and of their saying that they would kick me out 
 of their house if I should go there when they ? 
 at home a threat which all the neighbors believed 
 they would accomplish I at once resolved to call 
 upon them ; and as they were only at home on Sun- 
 days, I arranged to visit their families on one of 
 these days. I accordingly did so. The neighbors, 
 on seeing me enter the first house, were alarmed, 
 
WELCOME CHANGE. 55 
 
 and held themselves in readiness to interfere, in the 
 event of violence. The family was at breakfast ; I 
 apologized. The man bid me make no apologies, 
 as he had heard of me, and knew that my intention 
 was good. I had a long talk with him, and the 
 result was that he assured me that he should be 
 glad to see me at any time, and he thought he 
 should begin to go to some place of worship." The 
 effect was much the same in the other two cases. 
 
 There was one court (and there were several of 
 the kind) notorious for its extreme, gross, desperate 
 depravity. It was almost wholly made up of bad 
 houses. Their wretched inmates had so uniformly 
 and rudely insulted all religious visitors that called 
 upon them, that these had all at length given them 
 up. " I determined," says Mr. Miller, " to see the 
 keepers of the houses severally, and if possible to 
 reason with them, in order to get access for ourselves 
 and our tracts." He accordingly did so, and this 
 plan had, in a great measure, the effect desired. In 
 connection with tracts, he also gave them his card, 
 as his custom was in all such cases, and assured 
 them of his readiness, at any time, to assist such as 
 might wish to leave their vicious way of living. 
 This step greatly contributed to obtain for him their 
 esteem and kind regard. After this, Christian visi- 
 tors found no difficulty in getting access to them, 
 and one of these, an aged man, who had been 
 engaged as a tract distributor for twenty years in 
 the neighborhood, and now renewed his peaceful 
 
ROGER MILLER. 
 
 and beneficent labors, meeting Mr. Miller some 
 time after, said to him, " Why, friend Miller, what 
 
 have you been doing in Court ? Formerly, 
 
 the people would not have my tracts, and would 
 tell me that if I came there, they would put me on 
 the fire, but now they tell me they are obliged to 
 me. May the blessing of God still attend your 
 labors, my dear friend !" 
 
 As an instance of his diversified modes of opera- 
 tion, and the spirit with which he engaged in them, 
 the following case may be recorded " As I sat at 
 dinner on the 15th of June, 1841, a man came be- 
 fore the front of the house with a lot of machinery 
 to amuse the people with, a coach-wheel, a ladder, 
 and a number of pipes. He first, with great labor, 
 balanced the pipes on his chin, and then engaged to 
 balance the ladder, with a boy standing on the top 
 of it, but first required the crowd to give him some 
 money. There were about 300 persons present, so, 
 while he was collecting, I determined to distribute 
 tracts, and took with me a quantity of ' The Brazen 
 Serpent.' As soon as I began to move, the ring was 
 broken up. The people rushed to me for the tracts, 
 many of them thanking me for them. One man 
 tore his into pieces, on which I expostulated and 
 reasoned with him. He at length went off amid the 
 groans of the people, and made all haste to get 
 round the corner of the street." 
 
 " On returning home, on Thursday the 17th, T 
 found a poor young woman, who had obtained from 
 
A TOUCHING SIGHT. 57 
 
 a gentleman one of ray cards, and had come to my 
 house to request me either to get her into an asylum, 
 or to effect, if possible, her restoration to her home. 
 It being too late to take her home that night, I paid 
 for her night's lodging, and early on the following 
 day set off, with her directions, to seek her parents. 
 I found all in accordance with what she had said. 
 They are very comfortably situated, her father hav- 
 ing an income of 100 per annum. When they 
 heard of their child, they were deeply affected, and 
 immediately consented to receive her to their home. 
 I accordingly returned, and taking her with me back 
 again, restored her to the arms of her mother. Their 
 meeting together was a touching sight. I took my 
 leave of the now happy mother and daughter, hav- 
 ing first commended them to God in prayer." 
 
 The condition of the children, with whom the 
 streets and courts of his district were swarmed, was 
 extremely deplorable. In general, they were aban- 
 doned to the utmost neglect, were ragged and filthy 
 in their persons and attire ; they were also as untu- 
 tored in mind as the most degraded Indian or Hot- 
 tentot brood. They were left to run wild upon the 
 streets, and at an almost incredibly early age, had 
 learned to utter language the most obscene and pro- 
 fane. Neglected in his own childhood, and still 
 !y feeling the sad consequences of this, he knew 
 well how to commiserate the case of the poor ; and 
 for him to commiserate any case was to set about 
 seeking its relief. His was not so much a sentimeu- 
 
58 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 tal as a practical compassion. From the first, he 
 looked upon the condition of these children with the 
 deepest concern a concern amounting almost to dis- 
 tress and set himself about devising for it a remedy. 
 His plan was, in the first place, to set on foot an in- 
 fant school. This, for some months, he found him- 
 self unable to accomplish ; but by that determined 
 and persevering industry which was one of his great- 
 est characteristics, he succeeded at length in enlist- 
 ing for his project the sympathies of benevolent indi- 
 viduals ; and so, before he had completed his first 
 year of labor, he beheld it carried into effect. Eighty 
 children were at once received into the school, of 
 whom seventy-three had never before been within 
 any such place. These, in the course of a few 
 months, increased to 160, of whom 128 were here, 
 for the first time, brought under school teaching and 
 discipline. 
 
 Referring to this institution some time afterwards, 
 he says "It is of great value to me in my visits to 
 the people, as by it their prejudices are subdued, and 
 kindliness is excited towards me. It is also an 
 asylum indeed to many of the poor children them- 
 selves. Their parents bring them at eighteen 
 months old, and not unfrequently before they are 
 weaned ; and it is now no unusual thing to hear 
 children at play on the district singing some of their 
 school hymns, or pieces, who, but for it, would, in 
 all probability, have been singing profane and las- 
 civious songs instead." A pleasing incident connected 
 
INDIRECT INFLUENCE. 59 
 
 with it, recorded by him, may be here inserted. Two 
 
 of the children, named John and Mary , fell 
 
 victims to scarlet fever ; calling upon their mourn- 
 ing mother shortly after, he received the following 
 statement : " As they lay together in their last af- 
 fliction, John began to sing 
 
 " ' I think when I read that sweet story of old, 
 When Jesus was here among men ; 
 How he called little children as lambs to his fold, 
 I should tike to have been with them then. 
 I wish that his hand had been placed on my head, 
 That his arms had been thrown around me ; 
 And that I might have seen his kind look when he said ' 
 
 here he stopped, being interrupted by his sister, who 
 after repeatedly trying to join him, but finding her- 
 self unable, through weakness, gave it up, and 
 wished her brother to do so too. ' But,' says he, 
 ' sister, I must sing/ and so proceeded with the 
 words 
 
 " ' Let the little ones come unto me.' " 
 
 In less than an hour after they both slept in death. 
 
 The school became in his hands an important 
 agency for good, indirectly, also to the parents and 
 friends of the children. Here is an example : " Mr. 
 
 and Mrs. B , of Place, were extremely poor 
 
 and ignorant, and were in their persons, house, and 
 children, uncommonly filthy. When I first called 
 upon them, and told them the business and purpose 
 of rny visit, Mr. B., vociferating a stunning oath, 
 bid me begone, and never again trouble him ' with 
 
60 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 any of that 'ere nonsense.' I left a tract, and said, 
 'I will call again at some future day.' 'Yes, you 
 do,' replied he, ' and I will soon kick you out that's 
 all.' I however called. He was not at home him- 
 self, but I met with his wife, and found her but lit- 
 tle better than him. Her children, I saw, were in 
 her way, and occasioned her much vexation ; so I 
 invited her to send them to the infant school, repre- 
 senting to her the advantage that would arise out 
 of this, as she would herself get rid of them during 
 the day, and they would learn to read. I offered, 
 if she would wash their hands and faces, to take 
 them with me immediately. I accordingly c 7 iJ lake 
 them. This care for her children pleased her much. 
 I continued to visit them, and after some months 
 again met with Mr. B. at home. In the meantime, 
 his children had received considerable instruction, 
 and amongst other things, had learned to sing a num- 
 ber of pretty little hymns, and he himself had been 
 called to task but a few days before, for commen- 
 cing dinner without saying grace ; so instead of kick- 
 ing out" his friend, as he had threatened, he re- 
 ceived him most respectfully. ' I don't know how 
 it is,' said he, ' but the children seem to learn a great 
 deal at your school ; I should like to come and see 
 them.' The man, who, however," says Mr. Miller, 
 "was more of a bear than a man in temper, was 
 quite subdued and won. He began to attend a place 
 of worship himself, became increasingly regular in 
 
DISCRIMINATING SYMPATHY. 61 
 
 doing so, and ended ' an anxious inquirer for the 
 best things.' " 
 
 In visiting the people for whom he lived and la- 
 bored, he frequently met \vith cases of sorrow and 
 distress, that required great discretion and wisdom, 
 as well as warm and tender sympathy ; and afford- 
 ed occasion for the most beneficial exercise of both. 
 Nor was he wanting in these valuable attributes 
 when they were demanded. Calling, in November, 
 
 -', at a house in. Place, he found a neat and 
 
 clean-looking woman, who had recently taken up 
 her abode there. She appeared dejected, and seem- 
 ed anxious to avoid him. She took a tract with which 
 he presented her, and was about to close the door, 
 but by a little artifice he succeeded in preventing 
 this, when he proceeded to state the object of his 
 visit, and to engage her attention to his message of 
 love. " I soon found," says Mr. Miller, " that she 
 was the subject of grief ; and that it was on this ac- 
 count she tried to shun me." He therefore sought 
 the more earnestly to obtain an interview with her, 
 and gradually advanced within, as she retired 
 and became evidently more open to conversation. 
 " After a short time, I was requested," says he, "to 
 take a seat, while she began to tell me her tale of 
 trouble. Her husband, she said, had formerly been 
 a professor of religion, but now never entered a place 
 of worship ; that he had altogether ceased to care 
 for her, and had given his heart to another woman, 
 whom he kept ; that not less than four times he had 
 
62 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 broken up her home, and driven her to seek with 
 her parents a shelter ; and that still he constantly 
 abused her in the bitterest manner. ' As to my poor 
 soul,' she afTectingly added, ' I know that it is in a 
 most dangerous state. Into a church, or chapel, I 
 never go, or if I do and it is found out, I am beaten 
 in the most shameful manner. What can I do ? 
 shall I stay here to be treated worse than a dog ? 
 I shall be glad if you can advise me.' I said, ' If I 
 should advise you to leave your husband, this would 
 be most agreeable to your feelings ; but this, a Chris- 
 tian, I cannot do. My advice is, that you stand your 
 ground, and look to the Lord for direction and sup- 
 port. Tell him all your sorrows, and seek his fa- 
 vor and his help, through Jesus Christ, and he 
 will uphold and guide you. At the same time, act 
 in a kind and cautious manner towards your husband. 
 Forget all that is past, try to keep your house, and 
 all that is in it, in the greatest order, especially whea 
 he is at home ; but sec that you make the Lord your 
 trust." He then read a portion of the sacred word, 
 and knelt with her in prayer. " She wept much ;" 
 thanked him affectionately for his advice, and hoped, 
 as she said, " the Lord would enable her to follow it." 
 
 At No. 17, Court, there resided an aged 
 
 woman who, when he commenced calling upon her, 
 offered a very determined and offensive sort of resist- 
 ance to him in his work. " She refused my tracts,'' 
 gays he, " and told me she would have ' none of my 
 religious nonsense.' Seeing a little girl sitting near, 
 
A FOOL LONG ENOUGH. 63 
 
 evidently her grand-daughter, I gave the child a 
 little book containing pictures, which pleased her not 
 a little, and left." He continued to call from time 
 to time, till at length the poor woman began to con- 
 verse more freely and kindly with him, and took his 
 tracts ; not, however, for herself, but, as she said, 
 "for the child." In April, 1841, he commenced a 
 prayer-meeting near her house, and invited her, in 
 common with others, to attend. She refused to do 
 so, on the ground that her husband would not allow 
 her to go to such places. But one night she heard 
 the singing, and as her husband was not at home, 
 she was induced to steal .away there. " At the 
 close," says he, " I gave her my hand, and invited 
 her to come again. ' You have no need to ask me,' 
 said she, ' for neither husband, nor anybody else, 
 shall stop me from coming. It is the first time for 
 thirty years, and I have been thinking what a fool I 
 have been all this time. I'll come again, sir, let 
 what will come of it.' She afterwards mentioned 
 it herself to her husband, when he said, ' If I know 
 you to go there again, you and I shall have a fight.' 
 ' Nay,' said she, ' we won't do anything of the kind 
 there needs two in a fight. You may abuse me, 
 but you will not get rne to fight ; and after you havo 
 abused me I will go, for I have been an old fool long 
 enough.' ' Well,' said he, ' I tell you once for all, 
 if you go to any such place, I will break your legs, 
 and then you cannot go.' 'I do not think,' she re- 
 plied, ' you would be monster enough for that ; but 
 
64 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 if you should, then the missionary would come to 
 see me so break on, but go I will. If I neglect my 
 home, you will have cause to complain, but not till 
 then.' " Some time after, she wanted to buy herself 
 a dress, but her husband said she should not have 
 one at his expense, for if she would ''go to a gospel- 
 house," she should go " in rags ;" he would not 
 "pay for anything to go there in." She was often 
 tempted to stay away, because, as she thought, people 
 looked at her in her mean attire : but then again, 
 as she said, " the thought came, if I stop away the 
 devil and my old man will have just what they want, 
 and so I said I'll go, for the Lord only looks at the 
 heart." She accordingly continued regularly to at- 
 tend Mr. Miller's meeting, to go to public worship 
 on the Sabbath, and to endure in silence all her 
 troubles. Eventually one of her relations called 
 upon her, and after some remarks about her going 
 to chapel, said, " I have bought you a gown, friend, 
 and if you will get it made up you are welcome to it." 
 " As soon as she saw me," says Mr. Miller, " at my 
 next visit, she said, ' Here is the devil cheated again,' 
 and proceeded to relate the above story." She con- 
 tinued a regular attendant at the house of God, and 
 gave pleasing evidence of a hopeful acquaintance 
 with the truth. 
 
 During the month of August, 1841, a lady called 
 upon him, and informed him of a young woman, the 
 daughter of a Christian minister in the country, who 
 was an inmate of a noted house of bad fame in the 
 
FRIEND OF THE FORSAKEN. 65 
 
 neighborhood, who lay ill there, and was supposed 
 to be near death. He immediately determined to 
 seek her rescue, and hastened to the house where 
 she resided. It Avas one of the worst. He therefore 
 took with him a friend, a precaution he not unfre- 
 quently adopted. They found her in a miserable 
 kitchen with three other girls at her bed-side. " I 
 
 said to her, ' Is your name ?' She replied, ' It 
 
 is.' I told her who I was ; assured her that though 
 a stranger to her, I would be her friend, if she would 
 allow me ; and said, ' Will you go into an hospital 
 if I introduce you ?' ' Yes,' she replied, 'I will go 
 anywhere with you, if you can get me out of this 
 place.' I forthwith called a cab, and had her con- 
 '1 to Guy's Hospital, where she was immediately 
 admitted, and in two hours from the time of my going 
 to her, she was comfortably lodged in the hospital." 
 She continued here for some time. He then got 
 her into an asylum. At both he regularly and fre- 
 quently visited her, furnished her with tracts, and 
 otherwise sought to promote her moral and religious 
 ration. From the first her heart was' opened to 
 attend to the things she had read and heard ; and 
 it became increasingly evident that a thorough 
 change of character was being wrought in her. In 
 the meantime she became anxious to return to her 
 friends. Her father was the minister of a respec- 
 table Baptist congregation in a provincial town, and 
 two of her brothers were prosperous tradesmen : one 
 at the west end of London, the other in Birmingham. 
 5 
 
6G ROGER MILLER. 
 
 He wrote to all of them. They treated his letters 
 with all respect, but " would have nothing to do 
 with her." Her father determinedly resisted it, and 
 would not yield to anything that Mr. Miller could 
 say. For eighteen months he labored for her resto- 
 ration to her friends without being able to effect it. 
 At length the girl's health becoming worse, through 
 excessive confinement, her father consented, on the 
 assurance of Mr. Miller's confidence in her, to take 
 her -home again ; and also engaged (for he was a 
 widower), in case of her continuing steady, to commit 
 the entire charge of his house to her. She accordingly 
 returned. The expenses of her journey were defray- 
 ed for her. She was received by her father with 
 great affection, and soon gave him the most decisive 
 and affecting evidence not only that she had truly 
 returned to the paths of filial duty and of virtue, but. 
 also, that " she was most anxious lo be restored to 
 her heavenly Father, from whom she felt she had 
 wandered still more awfully." She became a can- 
 didate for union with the people of God, and her 
 father ha'd the intense delight of welcoming her into 
 the fold and flock placed beneath his own pastoral 
 care. She subsequently became very active and 
 useful in the cause of Christ, particularly in connec- 
 tion with Sunday-schools, one of which she com- 
 menced ; and as to the girl's department, superin- 
 tended. She at length returned to London, and 
 entered into business, was married by a tradesman, 
 and has continued to this day, in every point of view, 
 
A TYPE OF A NUMEROUS CLASS. C7 
 
 a highly respectable member of society. Language 
 cannot express the views and feelings with which 
 she ever afterwards regarded her benefactor. 
 
 There were a vast number of cases in which, 
 though, in the notices left of them, they present 
 nothing of a striking character, his labors were a 
 means of the highest good. The following may bo 
 mentioned as the type of a numerous class. Mr. and 
 
 ]y[rs. , of 25, Street, were a somewhat 
 
 aged couple. They had long lived together, stran- 
 gers to themselves and to God ; rarely if ever 
 attending a place of worship, and entertaining the 
 most perfect contempt for religion. " At first when 
 I called," says Mr. Miller, "they would not hear 
 anything I had to say, but I continued my visits. 
 They gradually became more and more free and 
 friendly, and at length I was permitted to read and 
 pray with them." After this, his calls were always 
 received with smiles of welcome and of pleasure. 
 Their minds were opened to receive his instructions 
 and counsels, and they became hopefully converted 
 to God. Writing of them early in April, 1841, he 
 says, ' ; The case of this poor man and his wife, at 
 my last visit, appeared truly affecting. Both wept 
 like children, and said with great feeling, ' Oh, sir, 
 if you had not come to us as you did, we should still 
 have been living in our sins. And we have often 
 wondered that you should have troubled yourself 
 to come a second time to see us, as we used you so 
 bad when you first called on us. We never go to bed 
 
68 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 now or get up without praying for you, as we know 
 that others serve you as we did, when you came to 
 us at first.' ' But, oh ! what mercy,' exclaimed 
 the old man, ' has the Lord bestowed on us, to think 
 that he should send his Son to die for a poor old sin- 
 ner such as I am.' " The poor old man was soon 
 after visited with an attack of paralysis which oc- 
 casioned his confinement to his room. His wife be- 
 came a member of the Wesleyan Society in Broad- 
 wall. 
 
 During the first year of his labors, 28 persons 
 most of whom had been flagrantly immoral and ir- 
 religious, were reclaimed ; 65 induced regularly to 
 attend public worship ; 5 were introduced to Chris- 
 tian churches; and 13 more in health, and 4 in 
 affliction arid death, were brought to what appeared 
 a saving knowledge of the truth ; 29 copies of the 
 sacred word were distributed, and upwards of 16,000 
 tracts put into circulation. 
 
 " But what are these among so many ?" Such, 
 both as to the persons benefited, and the means of 
 usefulness employed for the rest, was the language 
 of his burdened and yearning spirit. He felt oppres- 
 sively and painfully the comparative littleness of 
 these results, and especially the vast disproportion 
 between his own capabilities and the agencies he 
 wielded, on the one hand ; and on the other the 
 magnitude of the evil everywhere surrounding him, 
 and the stupendous greatness of the work required 
 to be accomplished. He accordingly set himself, 
 
SOWING BESIDE ALL WATERS. 69 
 
 amid the multiplicity of his own labors, during the 
 first year of his settlement in Broad wall, to form, in 
 connection with Surrey Chapel, an auxiliary to the 
 City Mission ; and notwithstanding some unfavor- 
 able prejudice and more indifference in the minds of 
 many, he, in conjunction with his excellent superinten- 
 dent, J. H. Harris, Esq., succeeded in so far preparing 
 the way, that at a public meeting held in the chapel 
 at the close of the year, it was organized and estab- 
 lished. A ladies' branch was subsequently added, 
 and first a second, and then a third missionary were 
 called in. It still continues in vigorous arid effective 
 operation, scattering the richest blessings of heaven 
 among the most abject and impoverished children 
 of earth. 
 
 It was eminently his endeavor to " sow beside all 
 waters," and it was not unfrequently his happiness 
 to find fruit where it might least have been expect- 
 ed. On Saturday, February 5, 1842, the late Mr. 
 Ducrow was to be interred, and an announcement 
 having appeared in the papers that his entire stud 
 of horses were to follow him, it was expected that 
 vast numbers of people would assemble to witness it, 
 which turned out to be the case. Before eight 
 o'clock the whole of the York and Westminster 
 Roads were crowded with spectators. Anticipating 
 this, he obtained grants of tracts from various per- 
 sons to the number of 4,000, and thus equipped, 
 went forth into the immense concourse of people to 
 scatter his seed. " I distributed," says he, " 3,000, 
 
70 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 and was surprised and delighted with the eager 
 manner in which they were received. On the even- 
 ing of the same day, a friend of mine was met by a 
 young man who had been to see the sight, and who 
 told him that he had seen a gentleman there giving 
 away tracts. "I got one," added he, "and I hope 
 I shall never forget the thoughts it gave rise to in 
 my rniud, while reading it." It was headed, "Pre- 
 pare to meet thy God." 
 
 His compassionate concern for poor dishonored 
 females, the readiness with which he embraced 
 their cases when they sought for moral and social 
 restoration, and the ability and success with which 
 he labored for this, became extensively known 
 amongst the benevolent and pious, and occasioned 
 great numbers of these unhappy creatures to be sent 
 to him. Early in the present year a Christian tract 
 distributor, engaged in his noiseless labors of love, 
 met with one of these poor girls just turned fourteen 
 years of age, who, weary of her way of life, was 
 anxious to get out of it. She was brought to Mr. 
 Miller. It turned out she was the child of infamy, 
 and had herself been systematically trained in it by 
 her abandoned mother, who died but a few days 
 after her unhappy girl was brought to him. He 
 first obtained her admission to an asylum, and after- 
 wards, at her own earnest desire, to the Lock Hos- 
 pital. On being discharged, she was destitute of 
 home and friends, and knew not whither to betake 
 herself. She dreaded to be thrown back into her 
 
ATTENTION TO THE IDLERS. 7l 
 
 former shame and miser}'. She returned to Mr. 
 Miller. For a few moments he hesitated over the 
 case, not knowing what, in the first place, to do 
 with her ; " and, as I hesitated," says he, " she, 
 with evident concern and alarm, exclaimed, c Oh ! 
 Mr. Miller, do not let me be turned into the streets 
 again. I will do anything sooner than this.' She 
 belonged to the parish of Lambeth, and to the guar- 
 dians'of this parish, with her consent, I accordingly 
 took her. They immediately received her into the 
 house, and thanked me heartily for my attention to 
 her." The poor girl would not afterwards go out 
 alone lest she should meet with any of her former 
 companions. 
 
 His was a department of Christian labor in which 
 especially he felt that " he that observeth the wind 
 shall not sow, and he that regardeth the clouds 
 shall not reap ;" and in which it was indispensable 
 to act in the spirit of the Divine direction, " In the 
 morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold 
 not thy hand, for thou knowcst not which shall 
 prosper, this or that." Himself an instance of the 
 usefulness of such a mode of Christian labor, he was 
 never at a loss for a motive and an encouragement 
 to engage in it. And he not unfrequently found the 
 seed he sowed with the most solicitude and doubt 
 was ttye first to spring np, to repay his labor and 
 refresh his wearied spirit. f< As," says he, "I was 
 first brought to think of going to a place of worship 
 myself by having a tract put into my hand on a 
 
72 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 Sunday morning after a stroll, I feel a delight in 
 giving them." lie was accordingly accustomed on 
 a Sabbath morning frequently to go forth to those 
 parts in the neighborhood of his district which were 
 most thronged with idlers, and there to scatter his 
 tracts as copiously as he could. " I put one," says 
 he, " into the hand of a young man who happened 
 to be passing. It was headed, ' Ye must be born 
 again.' The young man followed me for a time ; 
 and then asked me if I would allow him to call at 
 my house. I replied in the affirmative, and gave 
 him my card. On the day following he called upon 
 me and told me a long and painful story about his 
 sister, who had bartered away her honor and aban- 
 doned herself to infamy." Mr. Miller took the 
 opportunity of speaking to the young man himself 
 on the things that belonged to his peace. The 
 young man said that his father was a widower ; 
 that his mother had been a great drunkard ; that 
 she had often, to get drink, pawned his clothes, and 
 prevented him from going out on the Sunday ; and 
 that as he looked upon her when she lay in her 
 coffin he smiled upon her corpse, and thanked God 
 (for her death). He himself had also been a poor slave 
 to intemperance and dissipation. Mr. Miller found 
 that the tract he had given him the day before had 
 been read, and had made a deep impression on his 
 mind. He presented him with others. He then 
 sought out the unhappy sister, and obtained for her 
 admission to the hospitable inclosure of an asylum, 
 
A PUBLIC EXECUTION. 73 
 
 where she afterwards conducted herself virtuously, 
 and was restored to credit and society. Meanwhile, 
 he continued, both personally and through various 
 tracts and books, to seek the spiritual recovery of her 
 brother ; nor did he seek this without success. The 
 young man became a regular attendant on the pub- 
 lic services of Surrey Chapel. Mr. Miller then 
 sought to induce his father to attend ; and soon 
 father and son were seen neatly and respectably 
 attired resorting to the house of God. The latter 
 subsequently became a teacher in one of the numer- 
 ous Sabbath-schools connected with that chapel, and 
 was at length received into fellowship with the 
 church. "He is now," says Mr. Miller, speaking 
 of him some months after, " an affectionate brother, 
 and a dutiful son, though with great sacrifice to 
 himself. He is also wishful to be a faithful soldier 
 of the Lord Jesus Christ." His sister also exhibited 
 encouraging evidence of a gracious change of heart. 
 Every opportunity of getting into contact with 
 the most debased and depraved portions of our 
 metropolitan population was seized by him with 
 promptitude and eagerness, and improved with the 
 utmost diligence arid care. Having learned that 
 Good, the murderer, was to be executed on the 23d 
 of May, 1842, and anticipating a great concourse of 
 the worst characters, he furnished himself with a 
 large number of suitable tracts, and at an early 
 hour of the awful day was on the spot at work with 
 them. " I was at the front of the Old Bailey soon 
 
74 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 after four o'clock in the morning. To my surprise, 
 there were even then from three to four thousand 
 people assembled. My motive for being there so 
 soon was, to supply those with tracts who would 
 get close to the gallows, and especially to see the 
 class of persons who got there so early, The morn- 
 ing being fine, v/as very favorable to my purpose. 
 I counted no less than ninety prostitutes, who, with 
 the men that were with them, were strewed about 
 in a way the most shocking some sitting and some 
 lying upon the pavement. Many of the men were 
 drunk, and used the most abusive language to me 
 when they were presented with tracts ; but those 
 who were sober, received my tracts with all kind- 
 ness and good feeling. The crowd constantly in- 
 creased, and by six o'clock became immense. I 
 kept continually near the outside, and when the 
 unhappy man was brought out upon the scaffold, 
 found myself in Ludgate Hill. I was not a little 
 pleased to find that numbers of people were not 
 only eager to get the tracts, but also to read them. 
 I distributed 5,500. I saw r , however, that it would 
 have been impossible to have done any such thing 
 had it been left to the last." 
 
 Resistance to him in his work, far from prevent- 
 ing his going forward, was wont only to arouse him 
 to more determined and careful effort, which not 
 unfrequently resulted in partial or perfect triumph. 
 Distributing tracts in the street one Sabbath morn- 
 ing near the end of the same month, he placed one 
 
ABUSE FROM A FALLEN PROFLIGATE. T5 
 
 in the hand of a little man who, he knew, had 
 made a profession of religion, but had grievously 
 fallen. The wretched man threw back the tract, 
 and used abusive language. He was a widower, 
 and had one child, a girl, who attended Surrey 
 Chapel. This girl was with him at the time. Mr. 
 Miller took this treatment with submission and 
 silence. He, however, embraced the earliest oppor- 
 tunity of calling upon him at his home. He was 
 now enraged, "cursed both me and the tract," says 
 Mr. Miller, " threw it back furiously into my face, 
 and bid me leave his house. I said, ' My friend, it 
 would be very unwise for me to leave you in such 
 a rage without first inquiring for the cause. Pray, 
 is it the tract that you are offended at, or is it my- 
 self? I do not think, though you have cursed me, 
 that you really would wish either me or any fellow- 
 sinner to be cursed, would you?' 'Why, no,' said 
 he, ' that is not right, certainly ; but you know I 
 have been deceived by a lot of professors of religion, 
 and I now go to no place of worship.' ' Well, but,' 
 said I, ' God has riot deceived you, has he ?' ' No,' 
 said he, 'he has not.' 'But,' said I again, 'have 
 you not acted deceitfully with him ? What would 
 be your condition if you were to die now?' ' Why,' 
 said he, ' it would be a bad one, sir ; I am wicked, 
 and I am miserable.' ' So you may well be,' said 
 I ; ' you have not prayed for some months past, I 
 know. Can you expect to be happy ? You have 
 :: left off to be wise," and now you arc not content 
 
76 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 to go to hell yourself alone, but you are taking your 
 child there with you, that child which is the only 
 relic of your beloved wife, now numbered with the 
 dead. Is this as it ought to be ? How can you so 
 trifle with the soul of that child by keeping her 
 from the Sabbath-school ?' ' Oh ! spare me, sir,' he 
 exclaimed ; ' I know you are right, and I am wrong, 
 and all you have said is very true. It is not God 
 that has been unfaithful, but it is me. I ought to 
 have gone to God in my troubles, and not to have 
 done as I have ; but I thank you, sir, and I hope it 
 will be a warning to me. I hope you will come 
 again soon.' " He began again to attend public 
 worship at Surrey Chapel. 
 
 To persons of the most revolting and seemingly 
 hopeless character, he addressed himself without 
 despairing of success, and rarely did he find himself 
 to have altogether labored in vain. There resided 
 at No. 12 Plaoe, a man whose personal ap- 
 pearance and character were truly appalling. His 
 frame was uncommonly tall and athletic ; his face 
 was singularly large, and environed with huge gray 
 whiskers ; his eyes were big, fiery, and restless ; and 
 his entire countenance the index of a dark, perturbed, 
 and savage soul. He had seen his threescore years 
 and ten, a greater part of which he had spent at sea. 
 His manners were eminently of that rough and bois- 
 terous character that distinguishes a genuine tar, 
 and which seem like the moral reflection and coun- 
 terpart of the ocean on which he lives. He had also 
 
TRIUMPHS OF PATIENCE. 77 
 
 acquired all that coarse vulgarity, profaneness, sen- 
 suality, and violence, that too often characterize the 
 sons of the ocean. Their manners and habits he 
 still retained, and they were now accompanied by 
 great surliness and irritability of temper, the result 
 of age and adversity. Undaunted and undoubting, 
 notwithstanding, Mr. Miller called upon him, pre- 
 sented him with tracts, and sought to engage his at- 
 tention to religious instruction. For nearly eight- 
 een months his tracts were rejected, and he was 
 abused. He, however, still proceeded. Calling at 
 his house on the 18th October, 1842, Mr. Miller found 
 him from home, but met with his wife, who said to 
 him, " I hope, sir, you will not neglect to call and 
 !: to my husband, though he is such a black- 
 '.-], and has so insulted you before." " You may 
 depend upon it," said Mr. Miller, " I do not mean to 
 neglect him." " At this moment he came in. As 
 he entered the door, he beheld me, and immediately 
 stood still, as if to stop up the way. He looked at 
 me very angrily ; and surveyed me from head to 
 foot. I saluted him in the kindest manner I could, 
 and said, ' I am glad to see you better than when I 
 last called.' He looked first at his wife, and then 
 '.\\ at me, and said ill-naturedly, ' Well, and if I 
 am better, is it anything to you ? I have riot to 
 thank you for it.' 'No, my friend, but I hope you 
 will not neglect to thank God for it ; he is our great 
 friend, and let me tell you that he has promised to 
 do far more than this for you, if you will seek him.' 
 
78 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 ' Well, but what do you want here ?' said he, sav- 
 agely ; and shaking a big stick in rny face, he 
 added, ' I told you before not to come here any more, 
 did not I ?' 'I have come,' I said, ' to read to you 
 the word of God, and to pray for you that God may 
 change your heart before you die, for if you die in 
 your present state you can have no hope of heaven.' 
 ' Will this tract put a loaf of bread on my table ?' 
 demanded he. ' It may,' said I, ' do more than that, 
 if you read it with a prayerful heart ; for I tell you 
 confidently, that if you will seek heaven in preference 
 to this world's pleasures, God will bless you.' At 
 this moment, the wife took up the subject, and said. 
 ' You have always been very cross with this gentle- 
 man, and you know he comes from the chapel where 
 they visited you from' (referring to Surrey Chapel, 
 and some visitation and relief he had had, while ill, 
 from its noble benevolent society) ; ' you certainly 
 ought to be civil to them.' This seemed to subdue 
 him, and he put down his stick. I then said, ' But 
 I hope you will not be friendly with me merely on 
 that account, for that will be of no good, nor do I 
 desire your kind feeling on this account ; I did not 
 even know that you had been visited by any person 
 beside myself.' He then said, ' Well, I have no time 
 now, but if you will leave the tract I will read it. 
 As to praying, I must think about that, and you can 
 call again.' " It is pleasing to add, that in twelve 
 months after this, as the result of Mr. Miller's per- 
 severing labor, this aged sinner had become a regu- 
 
THE SERGEANT'S LETTER. 79 
 
 lar attendant on public worship, expressed deep in- 
 terest in the services of the sanctuary, and earnest 
 hope that he should continue to attend them as long 
 as he might live. 
 
 During the present year a special effort was made 
 for the spiritual good of that important and valuable 
 body of men the Metropolitan Police. To him, in 
 connection with one or two other of his brethren, the 
 work was entrusted ; and a letter subsequently ad- 
 dressed to him by a pious sergeant, may serve to in- 
 dicate at once the manner in which it was done and 
 received, and the influence which it originated : 
 
 "January 30, 1813. 
 
 ' DEAR SIR: At length I have a little leisure, and gladly 
 avail myself of it, for the purpose of addressing you on the 
 subject of your little book, issued to the whole of the Metro- 
 politan Police force. And I have first, as a member of that 
 force, to thank you for the Christian, benevolent intentions, 
 thus manifested towards the whole. ... It has indeed a 
 long time been a source of the deepest sorrow to my mind, 
 to witness the almost entire disregard to eternal things 
 amongst that portion of the men forming my own district; 
 and the occasional opportunities I have had of mingling with 
 others with whom I am not so immediately connected, give 
 sad demonstration to the fact, that a fearful majority of the 
 entire number are not merely living without God and without 
 hope in the world, but dishonoring and blaspheming the 
 name of the Most High, and indulging in habits alike degrad- 
 ing to the character, injurious to the body, and destructive to 
 the soul. There are, it is true, many exceptions to these 
 grosser immoralities to which I have alluded : in some, per- 
 haps, from more refined intellect, in others from superior ed- 
 ucation, or parental instruction and example; but where 
 
80 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 these exceptions may be made, there is still the absence of 
 all desire for the tilings that belong to their eternal peace. 
 There are also some further (happy) exceptions ; but alas I 
 they are few, very few, so few, that when I meet with one, 
 I am reminded of the poet's lines : 
 
 ' Broad is the road that leads to death, 
 And thousands walk together there ; 
 While wisdom shows a narrow path, 
 With here and there a traveller.' 
 
 " But, sir, I am happy to bear testimony to the fact, that 
 your little tract, so far as my observation extended, was re- 
 ceived with a respect and attention which at once surprised 
 and gratified me ; and I do think, for the most part, it had at 
 least an attentive perusal. And I find also that many have 
 carefully preserved them ; and who can tell but another, or 
 another, or another perusal may be accompanied by the Di- 
 vine blessing ? and who, also, can tell but that these little 
 books may, in some instances, be beforehand, and prove an 
 antidote to the baneful effects of others now abroad, calcu- 
 lated to lead or confirm them in errors destructive to their 
 immortal spirits ? And, oh ! what an acquisition to the force, 
 and what valuable servants to the public, would some of 
 these men be, had they the fear of God before their eyes. 
 But, alas, it is proverbial among them, and I except no rank, 
 that a policeman cannot be religious ; and some indeed say, 
 he don't ought to be, or have a very scrupulous conscience ; 
 that he has no time to attend to God's house, or to read God's 
 word, whereas many such will sacrifice much of the precious 
 Sabbath, enough to scan every page of a Sunday newspaper, 
 and those publications so disgraceful to their patrons, so in- 
 jurious to their readers. 
 
 " But I have wandered from the information required of 
 me, namely, if any good results have come under my notice. 
 Now, if my answer was this none, I would reiterate my for- 
 
A SINK OF INFAffY. 81 
 
 mer remarks, to urge and beseech you to a patient continu- 
 ance in well-doing, seeing such necessity exists as I have 
 shown. But, sir, I have reason to hope, that the reading of 
 your society's letter did, at least for the time, in many pro- 
 duce consideration ; and as consideration, you know, precedes 
 conviction, as conviction does conversion, you will not in this 
 matter despise small thing?, but hope that the seed thus 
 sown shall be as bread cast upon the waters, found after 
 many days. One man belonging to us, of no mean capacity, 
 in whom I had never witnessed any concern about his soul, 
 spoke to me on the subject of your letter, and spoke kindly 
 too of the individuals by whom they had been presented. 
 Finding he had read it with attention and apparent satisfac- 
 tion, I recommended to his notice another book, Mr. James* 
 ' Anxious Inquirer,' and from conversations I have since had 
 with him, as well as his subsequent attendance on the 
 means of grace, I may at least say of him, ' He is not far 
 from the kingdom of God.' May God carry on and perfect 
 
 in him his good work ! 
 
 " I am, dear sir, yours most respectfully, 
 
 There was one place in Mr. Miller's district dis- 
 tinguished strongly by its extreme filthiness, and by 
 the gross and almost unmixed depravity of its inhab- 
 itants. " It is," says Mr. Miller, " never cleaned 
 by any. of the authorities, and some of the houses 
 seem never to have had the floors washed from the 
 time they were first built. The filth and stench are 
 almost unbearable." The place contained an aver- 
 age of about twenty families, chiefly of the lowest 
 Irish, almost continually shifting. They -are nearly 
 all thieves and prostitutes all, that is, from about 
 twelve years old and upwards. It is a sink of in- 
 'G 
 
82 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 famy : rarely would decency permit him to enter 
 their rooms. He was commonly compelled to remain 
 outside to escape the loathsome and revolting spec- 
 tacles within, while he addressed to them some 
 words of instruction, of warning, and of exhortation. 
 Where he could, he scattered his tracts, and distrib- 
 uted his card as a guide to any one who might de- 
 sire to leave their criminal and wretched way of 
 living, and as a pledge to each of his assistance. 
 Nor did he ever despair. " In fact," says he, " I 
 have more hope of these than of many others, espe- 
 cially those who are always inventing tales to awak- 
 en sympathy and obtain temporal relief." Xor was 
 he altogether disappointed in the hope he cherished 
 with respect to them. There was a poor girl just 
 twenty years of age, and who but four months be- 
 fore had been a respectable servant, who had heard 
 him at various times speaking to her landlady, and 
 was now filled with a sense of the sinfulness of her 
 way, and came to the determination to starve rather 
 than continue any longer to live by it or in it. She 
 soon found herself hi danger of doing so ; she neither 
 had money, nor means of honorably getting it ; had 
 neither parents nor friends to whom she could fly for 
 shelter or relief. She continued to abide in the 
 house, but was steady to her purpose of abandoning 
 her way of life. Her landlady discovering it, harsh- 
 ly said to her, " Don't you intend to go out and get 
 some money ? you owe me already for three nights." 
 The girl brrst into tears, and said, " I cannot go out." 
 
THE BLIGHTED FLOWER. 83 
 
 " If that be it," said the landlady, " you had better 
 go to that parson-man that comes here with tracts, 
 and he will tell you how to get into the society." 
 "She inquired," says Mr. Miller, "for my address, 
 and immediately came off to my house. She repeat- 
 ed her call several times before she found me at home, 
 thus showing the earnestness of her desire and pur- 
 pose. She told me her painful story. I felt fully 
 convinced the girl was sincere, and promised to do 
 all I could for her." He supported her from his own 
 table for several days, during which he sought to 
 open the way for her introduction into a penitentiary, 
 in which at length he obtained for her an asylnm. 
 
 Being known extensively as the devoted and af- 
 fectionate friend of these poor creatures, he was fre- 
 quently resorted to for counsel and aid, not only by 
 themselves, but also by their friends ; and all seem- 
 ed to feel the fullest confidence, that if they could 
 but get their cases before him they were sure of as- 
 sistance and of success. 
 
 Mary was the only child of a very respect- 
 able tradesman, and had been " cherished like a 
 garden flower." Her fond mother had brought her 
 up indulgently, gratifying her wishes, but overlook- 
 ing her faults and protecting her in them. She was 
 the more indulgent because of the extreme severity 
 of the father. As might be expected, she became 
 wayward, disobedient, headstrong, towards her moth- 
 er, and set her at defiance. In opposition to her 
 parent's injunctions, she accustomed herself to re- 
 
84 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 main out at night till a late hour, always, however, 
 taking care to get home before her lather. At length, 
 when about sixteen years of age, she was led to re- 
 sort to a neighboring fair, where she stayed till it 
 was too late to return home without incurring her 
 father's displeasure. She was induced to remain out 
 the whole night. The poor girl fell into the^hands 
 of an artful seducer, and was ruined. The afflicted 
 mother hastened to lay the case before Mr. Miller, 
 and to seek his aid. At her request he set on foot 
 means of tracing the girl to her place of concealment, 
 which after a few days he succeeded in discovering. 
 The unhappy father, however, on learning the facts, 
 refused to receive her again into his house. ' I have 
 kept on my business for her,' exclaimed he bitterly, 
 ' more than for anything else ; but now my character 
 is so stained by my only child, I will sell all oiF and 
 leave London.' He accordingly did quit the metrop- 
 olis, having sold his business for 500. He, how- 
 ever, proposed to give a considerable donation to any 
 asylum which would receive her, and into one of 
 these excellent institutions she was at length, through 
 the efforts of Mr. Miller, and the agency of the 
 Southwark Auxiliary to the London Female Mission, 
 safely lodged. She ultimately married with comfort 
 and respectability. 
 
 By many of these wretched outcasts he was, after 
 their restoration by his instrumentality, blessed as 
 their greatest benefactor. Walking one day along 
 the street, a respectable-looking and well-dressed 
 
ADULT SCHOOL. 85 
 
 female accosted him. " Mr. Miller," said she mod- 
 estly, "I hope you will pardon me for speaking to 
 you in the streets, but I was going to your house to 
 thank you for your kindness to me. I am now able 
 to get a respectable and comfortable living. I have 
 been in service for twelve months and all through 
 your kindness." " I was surprised," says Mr. Miller, 
 "for I had lost all knowledge of her, and I said to 
 her, ' How have I been of service to you ? What is 
 your name ?' When she told me I was very much 
 delighted. It was a young woman I had got into 
 a probationary house two years and a half before. 
 She was at the time in a good situation in a highly 
 respectable family in the Blackfriars Road." 
 
 During the year 1843 his mind became much af- 
 fected with the extreme illiteracy and mental 
 degradation of many of the adult females of his dis- 
 trict. " Many," says he, " who are mothers, are 
 unable to write or read." For some time this per- 
 plexed him, but at length he was led to open for 
 them an adult school. This he first intrusted to the 
 care of several ladies who promised to take charge 
 of it ; but afterwards he committed it to his wife 
 and a few young ladies whom the late excellent Mrs. 
 Sherman sent to aid her. The attendance quickly 
 increased from thirteen to thirty-four. They met 
 together every Thursday evening ; and in connection 
 with devotional exercises, conducted by himself, 
 were taught reading, writing, and arithmetic, and, 
 
86 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 by an occasional short lecture, were instructed in 
 Divine truth and human duty. 
 
 In connection with a statistical account of his dis- 
 trict taken about this time (Feb. 1843), he writes, "It 
 
 will be seen in Court, where there were ncarffty 
 
 families, there are now hutfivc icomen of ill-fame. 
 Three years since every house was a brothel, and 
 all the court a den of thieves." 
 
 In a brief and hasty review of his labors, and 
 their results, at the close of his third year's engage- 
 ment in the service of the London City Mission, he 
 states " Besides the formation of the adult and the 
 infant schools, that of the Southwark Auxiliaries to 
 the City Mission and the London Female Mission, 
 the establishment of a Circulating Library, contain- 
 ing 70 volumes, eighteen fallen girls have been re- 
 stored, fifteen of whom are doing well, and one of 
 whom has gone into eternity, leaving pleasing evi- 
 dence of repentance towards God and faith in the 
 Lord Jesus, and thirty-four persons have been hope- 
 fully converted to God." 
 
PART III. 
 
 11 CAST thy bread upon the waters and it shall be 
 found after many days," is a divine utterance which, 
 considered by him as referring- especially to such 
 labors as his own, ever guided and animated him in 
 them. And many pleasing cases occurred to verify 
 to him its assurance, and to crown his hope. Here 
 is one : 
 
 " Calling one day, in September 1844, at 34, 
 
 Street, I met," says he, " with Mrs. M , a woman 
 
 whom I had visited some two years and a half before 
 in Guy's Hospital. She left the hospital as ' incura- 
 ble,' and as I had not seen or heard of her afterwards, 
 I had concluded she was dead. Her illness had 
 made so great a change in her appearance, that I 
 had no recollection of her person. But as I entered 
 her house she instantly knew me, and addressed me 
 by my name. I was not a little surprised to find 
 out who she was, and felt anxious to know whether 
 she had profited by the- instructions I had given her 
 so long before. I asked her if she still remembered 
 these. ' Yes,' said she, ' and I shall never forget 
 them as long as I live. I cannot now neglect the 
 house of God as I used to do, for the Lord has, I 
 
88 KOGER MILLER. 
 
 trust, made me to feel the blessedness of that new 
 birth of which you spoke to me. The world has 
 nothing in it now that I could love so much as Christ. 
 All is indeed vanity and vexation of spirit.' Inter- 
 rupting her, I said, ' And what about your husband ; 
 is he still unconverted?' * Yes, sir, he is so,' said 
 she, ' and that is my chief trouble now. I would do 
 anything to get him to go to the house of God. But 
 as God had patience with me, so must I have with 
 him, and I must and I will pray for him. And I 
 hope, sir, you will pray for him too.' " 
 
 Another pleasing instance of usefulness in relation 
 to a very important case, occurred in connection with 
 his labors about this time. A gentleman walking 
 one Sabbath evening in a principal thoroughfare, 
 met with a young person whose case deeply affected 
 his mind. Her personal appearance was interest- 
 ing ; she was of middle size, slender form, fair com- 
 plexion, remarkably beautiful features, genteel attire, 
 and modest bearing. Her appearance and manners 
 altogether were those of a highly cultivated and 
 virtuous lady. Reserve, dignity, and delicacy were 
 all blended in her air, and an atmosphere of purity 
 seemed to encircle her which appeared to forbid 
 every suspicion of her virtue, but which served only 
 to render more melancholy the fact of its loss ; there 
 was still, apparently, a lingering sense of its excel- 
 lence, although the priceless jewel itself had been 
 cast away. She was a poor devotee of shame, weary, 
 however, of her course, and convinced of its wicked- 
 
ELEGANT MISERY. 89 
 
 ness ; she was wishful to be rescued, but knew not 
 where to look for it. Her age was then but nine- 
 teen years, and, what is astounding, she was all the 
 time supported by a respectable medical man, to 
 whom she was engaged. Information of the case 
 was sent to the Rev. James Sherman, and forward- 
 ed by that gentleman to Mr. Miller. Immediately 
 Mr. Miller hastened to the house in which she re- 
 sided. He found her from home, but left his card, 
 with a message of his intention to call in the evening. 
 From doubtful motives, for she knew not what was 
 his object, she awaited his arrival, and was standing 
 at the door when he got there. She occupied the 
 front parlor of the house, for which, and its furniture, 
 she paid the enormous rent of 25s. per week. She 
 was extremely unhappy in mind about her degraded 
 and criminal way of life, and expressed earnest de- 
 sire to be taken out of it. "I gave her," says he, 
 " my card, and told her to call upon me at a time I 
 mentioned, promising to do my best to further her 
 wishes. She came, and a long conversation ensued 
 between her, Mrs. Miller, and myself." He found 
 that she had friends at the west end of London who 
 were highly respectable, and deemed it most desira- 
 ble to effect, if possible, her restoration to them. 
 Having obtained her approval of this plan, he set 
 himself about carrying it into effect ; nor did he la- 
 bor in vain. After a few days she was restored to 
 her brother, who was a respectable tradesman, and 
 who affectionately embraced her and received her to 
 
90 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 his house. She became an assiduous, tender, and 
 devoted attendant on his afflicted wife, and ultimate- 
 ly settled as the wife of the medical man to whom 
 she had been before engaged. 
 
 Near the same time a case engaged his attention, 
 which, though painful to contemplate, may serve to 
 some extent to illustrate what, is at length happily 
 occupying very largely the public mind, the dark 
 mysteries of London life. " Late in the night of the 
 last Sunday in October, 1843, when going up stairs 
 on my way to bed, I'heard the cry of a child and 
 the shriek of a woman proceeding from some place 
 behind my house. I threw up the window, and found 
 that it came from an adjoining yard. I hastened to 
 the spot, and learned from an almost frantic female, 
 to whom it belonged, that a young woman had been 
 discovered in the yard not only trying to conceal the 
 birth of a child, but also as it was supposed, to de- 
 stroy its life. Having sent my wife to attend the 
 wretched woman, I went for Mr. Shea, a neighbor- 
 ing surgeon, who in a few minutes was in attendance, 
 and spared no pains for the safety of the child and its 
 wicked mother. She was one of those miserable vo- 
 taries of shame who at that time swarmed in the 
 aeighborhood of Waterloo Road; she was without 
 <hoes, and her bare feet was seen protruding through 
 iier stockings. She was then but eighteen years of 
 age. Being asked what she intended to do for a 
 living for herself and child, she said, ' I shall do what 
 I have done before ; and as the child is living, he 
 
CASUAL WARD. 91 
 
 must do as others do if he still lives.' ' What is 
 that?' I asked. ' Why,' she said, 'there is plenty 
 of children get a good living by stealing, and so shall 
 he.' '' Sac was subsequently removed to Lambeth 
 Union House. .So filthy was she. that the poor women 
 in the house refused to touch her. 
 
 Early in 1 , at year (18-11), a new and inte- 
 resting sphere for holy and benevolent enterprise was 
 opened to him, which he immediately entered ; it 
 was in the Casual ward of St. Saviour's Union-House. 
 It is a well-known fact that there is always a large 
 mass of people in London utterly destitute of home. 
 Until a few years ago, these people were left without 
 any adequate legal provision for their accommoda- 
 tion. And as they beheld the night falling around 
 them, and the blithe and gladsome throngs of the 
 great metropolis skimming gaily along its brilliant 
 thoroughfares to their cheerful abodes, saw them- 
 selves without a shelter whither to retreat, or a place 
 iu that wilderness of life where to rest their weary 
 limbs. Vast numbers would betake themselves to 
 the public parks, and, seated with their backs against 
 the trees, would seek beneath the chilling shade of 
 these to relieve their weary, worn-out forms, to 
 waste the dismal hours of night, and, if they might, 
 to obtain, at least in some degree and form, the fa- 
 vor of 
 
 " Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." 
 
 Others betook themselves to the streets, especially 
 
92 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 in winter, and beneath the frosty shadow of the 
 workhouse, or some more friendly wall, or strewed 
 upon tho 3old. hard pavement stones, would seek 
 some sorry shelter and repose, grouping thickly 
 together and pressing closely upon each oilier, to 
 mitigate if they could the rigors of the night by the 
 mutual warrnth of their emaciated bodies, and 
 hoping that their forlorn and wretched condition 
 might move to compassion the parish or the police 
 authorities, and obtain for them relief at least in 
 some degree and shape. The condition of these 
 miserable creatures, however, had, for some time 
 before this, become a prominent subject of public 
 attention, and of some general sympathy. In many 
 of the workhouses wards had been opened to receive 
 them for the night, a provision made for their im- 
 mediate wants, and a breakfast supplied for them 
 before their departure on the following morning. 
 Such was the case at the workhouse of St. Saviour's 
 Union ; and Mr. Miller, perceiving the value of the 
 opportunity thus afforded for usefulness, threw him- 
 self, with all the Christian sympathy and influence 
 he could carry with him, into the midst of the wan 
 and woe-begone throngs that crowded eagerly to- 
 gether within this asylum. Writing of them at 
 the end of April, he says, " Finding that their 
 spiritual condition was not thought of in the great 
 arrangement, I resolved to visit them every night 
 from seven to eight o'clock, which I have done lor 
 the last three weeks. Their numbers are from ten 
 
WRETCHED INMATES OF NIGHT ASri.UMS. 93 
 
 to fifty a-night, and are always made up of new- 
 comers ; so that the total number of them with 
 whom I come in contact is very great. Many of 
 the poor creatures when they come in, are in the 
 filthiest condition, some in a high state of fever, and 
 sometimes a group of them is sent together to the 
 fever hospital, without delay. Among them I have 
 found very many who have been members of Chris- 
 tian churches, particularly of the Wesleyan body, 
 but who had wandered from the truth, and rmmy 
 who have been in Sabbath-schools. These 1 feel to 
 claim my special attention." His method was to 
 read to them the sacred Scriptures, to converse with 
 them in a spirit of kindness and familiarity, espe- 
 cially on subjects relating to their moral arid spirit- 
 ual well-being, to give interesting tracts and hand- 
 bills to such as could read, and to offer prayer with 
 them on behalf of all. " My visits," says he, " are 
 very favorably received by these poor creatures, and 
 great attention is paid by them while I read the 
 Scriptures and engage in prnyrr. I know not that 
 I may ever see any fruit from thcso endeavors, yet I 
 cannot be unmindful of the Scripture which says, 
 ' Blessed are ye which sow beside all waters.' " 
 
 The following remarks of his respecting these 
 curious and painfully interesting gatherings, arid the 
 influence of this new and kindly provision made for 
 them, may riot be regarded as unworthy of notice : 
 "It is a pleasing thing to see so many of these 
 wretched creatures each night protected from the 
 
94 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 inclement weathsr, who but for this would be ex- 
 posed to it ; but the intended good has also evils 
 mixed up with it. The report has gone forth 
 throughout the towns and villages of the country, 
 that if the poor come to London they will be able 
 to get a night's lodging, with supper and breakfast 
 (freely) ; and this, coupled with the notion that 
 there are many advantages to be met with here, 
 that according to the old adage ' its streets are 
 paved with gold,' lias led many to come to town 
 who would not have done so, and thus has served 
 to swell the numbers of these poor wanderers. I 
 here state only what I have gleaned in conversation 
 with many of them." 
 
 Welcome in general were his visits of mercy to 
 the sons and daughters of affliction, and not unfre- 
 queritly were his seasonable counsels and teaching 
 to them a means of good of the best description. 
 
 Here is an instance. Mr. F , of , was a 
 
 shrewd Irish Protestant, and a staunch teetotaller. 
 He ordinarily attended Surrey Chapel, and had 
 received clear and impressive views of spiritual 
 truth and evangelical doctrines under its able minis- 
 ter. He was visited with successive and extreme 
 aflt'.ctions for about three years continually, first in 
 the person of his wife, who, after a long affliction, 
 was taken from him ; then in a child, of whom he 
 was also bereaved ; and finally, in his own person. 
 During all this time Mr. Miller was his constant 
 and faithful Christian visitor and teacher. The 
 
THE LAST INTERVIEW. 95 
 
 poor man was led to see the hand of God in his 
 affliction, and that that hand was one of the purest 
 mercy, that smote him only to humble, that after- 
 wards it might exalt him. He was led to feel him- 
 self a great sinner, and with deep humiliation to 
 seek mercy of God in Christ. " I trust," said he to 
 his friend, " it is not presumption in me to believe 
 that he (the Lord Jesus) is able and willing to save 
 even such a sinner." And it was one of his greatest 
 delights to look back upon the way by which God 
 had led him. During his last affliction he was 
 wholly confined to bed. " I was," says Mr. Miller, 
 " his only Christian visitor ;" and with what views 
 and feelings the dying man regarded his visits, may 
 be gathered from Mr. Miller's account of the last 
 interview. It took place the night of Mr. F.'s 
 death. " I called," says Mr. Miller, " at a late 
 hour ; after saying how pleased he was once more 
 to see me, he added calmly, ' Remember all you do 
 or say here to-night is for the last, time, for I am a 
 traveller about to depart, and I shall not return, but 
 you may come to me. I have a true Friend with 
 me ; he knows the road, and I believe he will con- 
 duct me safely.' After reading the sacred word, I 
 knelt in prayer with him and his family. During 
 the exercise I was frequently interrupted with his 
 solemn and repeated ' Amen,' ' Amen,' and on rising 
 he took my hand and said, ' My dearest friend on 
 earth, accept a poor sinner's thanks for all your 
 kindness ; you have indeed showed great care about 
 
96 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 my state. I attended Surrey Chapel for seven 
 years, yet no one but yourself in all the congrega- 
 tion spoke to me, except the Benevolent Society's 
 Visitors, who might think my profession was put on 
 because of my illness or poverty ; but now, in a few 
 hours, my sincerity is to be tested, and I bless God 
 I have no fear about the matter, for God in Christ 
 hath done all things well. On his arm I lean, and 
 I glory only in him. Faivv/ell, farewell ! God be 
 with you and make you a blessing to many.' " In 
 a few hours after the " traveller" departed. 
 
 Another poor man, who, with his wife, had near 
 twelve months before become members of the church 
 at Surrey Chapel, and at this time lay upon his 
 death-bed, said to him the day before his departure, 
 after hearing of the end of Mr. F., " I, too, shall 
 soon go to my Father's house ; and, sir, it is to you, 
 as an instrument in God's hands, I owe my thanks ; 
 but for you I should have perished in my sins, I 
 should have died a miserable being. The time was 
 when I would have done anything that your visits 
 should have been anywhere else. Many had come 
 round before on Sundays with tracts, but I used to 
 think they did not believe them themselves, or they 
 would have been more determined. You evinced a 
 determined mind. Neither my frowns nor my for- 
 bidding remarks used to daunt you, and God crowned 
 your efforts with his blessing, not only to me, but to 
 my wife ; and my prayer is, that you may long be 
 spared to be a blessing to this neighborhood." 
 
CLASS FOR JEWISH CHILDREN. 97 
 
 At the suggestion of the late Mrs. Sherman, lie 
 next originated a class for the instruction of the 
 Jewish children in the vicinity. Eight-and-twenly 
 of these were quickly got together, from ten to eigh- 
 teen years of age. They were met on Monday and 
 Tuesday evenings, and instructed in the Scriptures 
 of the Old Testament. They would listen with 
 marked attention to the history of the Hebrew 
 patriarchs, and to any remarks upon their lives and 
 characters. And sometimes, when they heard of 
 their piety, they would give simple and affecting 
 utterance to emotions of a religious nature. " Ah," 
 they would say, " ire do not attend to these things 
 as we ought." Although not instructed in the New 
 Testament, they would voluntarily read in it, and, 
 in fad, did of their own choice acquire a consider- 
 able acquaintance with it. In general they fully 
 appreciated the instruction they received, and grate- 
 fully loved their friends by whom it was given. The 
 continued in operation for several years after 
 its formation, first under the superintendence of the 
 late /''rs. Sherman, and subsequently of ladies con- 
 nected with Surrey Chapel. 
 
 He had not unfrequently to meet with men hardly 
 less fierce and extreme in their opposition than the 
 savage hordes of New Zealand or Southern Africa, 
 and even more intractable, yet he never shrunk from 
 encountering, and rarely failed, by persevering kind- 
 ness, 1o overcome them. 
 
 There resided in Place, a bigoted and violent 
 
98 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 Romanist, who not only refused for many months to 
 accept a tract, or to hear a word Mr. Miller had to 
 say, hut also, says Mr. M., " many times declared he 
 would be the death of me if ever I came again into 
 the court where he resided ; that if he saw me going 
 to any of the houses he would drop something on my 
 head as I passed under his window. But the more 
 he threatened, the more determined I was to show 
 him that I would visit all the people." Mr. Miller 
 accordingly visited all the families, even those in the 
 same house with himself; " always, however," says 
 he, " holding myself in readiness as I ascended his 
 stairs for anything that might be done to injure me. 
 On one of these visits I ventured to speak to him on 
 subjects that I thought might be interesting, as to 
 the state of his health, and of the destitute poor, and 
 began to think that I had got him into an earnest 
 and friendly conversation, when all on a sudden 
 he rose up, seized the poker, and made a rush 
 at me. I instantly retreated down the stairs and 
 was followed immediately by the poker, which my 
 ungracious host had thrown after me. The next 
 day I went again to see him. He seemed much 
 surprised to see me again so soon. I said, ' I am 
 afraid you were not well yesterday, or that you 
 must have misunderstood what I said.' His wife, 
 who was out the day before, asked what had taken 
 place, and, on learning, became very angry with 
 him ; and so I got an opportunity of speaking to him 
 more at length, which I endeavored to do as ailec- 
 
POWER OF KINDNESS. 99 
 
 tionalely as possible." This in a great degree sub- 
 dued him. He henceforth received Mr. Miller's 
 visits ; after some time, consented to unite with him 
 in the reading of Scripture and prayer ; became him- 
 self a reader of the bible with which Mr. Miller pre- 
 sented him ; and was so eager for his visits, that they 
 could not too often be repeated. 
 
 The day of trouble is that in which especially the 
 minds of men arc open to offices of real kindness, 
 and susceptible of ready, deep, and lasting impres- 
 sion, from religious teaching conveyed in the right 
 spirit. Then chiefly is " its season." And a kind 
 word spoken " in its season, how good it is." And 
 it is a great advantage of systematic and regular 
 domiciliary visitation by Christians, that it frequent- 
 ly brings them into contact with their more deeply 
 fallen fellow-creatures at such times, qiul establishes 
 beforehand, a perfect confidence in the genuineness 
 of their sympathy. How powerful then is the well- 
 known, though perhaps previously disregarded voice 
 of Christian kindness, to open the heart to religious 
 instruction, and how forcible then are " right words." 
 Nor was Mr. Miller wanting in aptness to speak " a 
 word in season to the weary." His own varied and 
 painful experience had effectually taught him how 
 " to have compassion" on the afflicted, especially on 
 such of them as were " ignorant and out of the way ;" 
 while his deep-felt concern for their spiritual welfare 
 and the cause of Christ, made him ever ready to 
 turn, if he might, their suffering to the account of 
 
100 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 these. After calling in April, 1844, upon Mr. 
 
 R he says, " As I entered the house I found 
 
 it to be the scene of mourning, for a melancholy ac- 
 cident had taken place only the day before. Mr. R., 
 who was accustomed to amuse himself in the morn- 
 ing and evening of each day by a little carpentering, 
 had left some shavings strewed about the house ; 
 and Mrs. R. having stepped into the next house to 
 assist a poor woman in her confinement, had left 
 their daughter with another little girl at home to 
 play." The shavings became the means of amuse- 
 ment for the children. Mrs. 11. 's little girl having 
 decked herself out in ringlets taken from these, and 
 ascended a chair to gaze at herself as mirrored in 
 the glass above the mantel-piece, one of the loose 
 ringlets had caught the lire, and communicated it to 
 the rest, and in a moment lit up around her a fear- 
 ful conflagration, in which she had perished, lie at 
 once entered into their circumstances, threw his 
 heart into theirs, and sought, lirst, if not to impart 
 some consolation to their minds, at least to mitigate 
 somewhat the bitterness of their grief. " I endeav- 
 ored to lead the minds of the broken-hearted parents 
 to look at the event under some less gloomy views, 
 and then went on to speak of the influence it should 
 have upon themselves. I spoke to them of their 
 state and condition before God, and of their duty to 
 attend to this as a solemn admonition that they too 
 must shortly leave this world, and ought to seek the 
 necessary preparation for a better. I read with 
 
REWARD OF PATIENCE. 101 
 
 them portions of Scripture, and knelt in prayer. 
 They appeared composed and thoughtful. They 
 were led to look upon the awful death of their child 
 as a solemn warning to themselves ; both commenced 
 attendance at the house of God, which they had 
 wholly neglected, and sent their children to day 
 and Sunday schools." Mr. R. afterwards stated, 
 says Mr. Miller, that, " at any other time he could 
 not have sat to hear what was then said to him, but 
 would have put me out of his house ; as it was, he 
 regarded my visit as sent in the providence of God, 
 and received my statements and admonitions with 
 the meekness of a little child. He became hopeful- 
 ly converted to God." 
 
 The following is a more decided instance of the 
 
 advantage thus gained. " Mrs. D., of Place, 
 
 was a violent opposer of religion. For four years, I 
 regularly called upon her without being able to ob- 
 tain permission to read the word of God ; more than 
 once she put me out of the room, and in one instance 
 did her utmost to throw me down stairs. Fortu- 
 nately, I was more than a match for her in strength ; 
 had I not been, down I must have gone ; notwith- 
 standing 1 , she stormed and raved until she drew a 
 crowd of people around that filled the court, all of 
 whom united to censure and denounce her conduct, 
 and showed respect for me." At length, after four 
 years' anxious and fruitless toil, he saw her health 
 begin to decline. " I now," says he, " saw my op- 
 portunity, and carefully sought, by kindness, to com- 
 
102 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 mend both myself and the word of God. At last I 
 got her ear to the reading of that word. I was af- 
 terwards permitted freely to visit her as often as I 
 pleased. My visits became BO prized that they 
 never could be sufficiently frequent and lengthy ; it 
 was my joy to see in her what appeared to be a 
 sound and decided change of heart. She died pro- 
 fessing, as a poor penitent sinner, to rest only in 
 Christ for salvation. I am," adds he, "led to hope 
 well of her eternal state." 
 
 He was most sensitively alive to everything like 
 injustice on the part of one person towards another; 
 had great sagacity and readiness in detecting it, even 
 where most artfully disguised ; the keenest and 
 deepest sense of its baseness, especially when at all 
 aggravated ; and the strongest compassion for those 
 who were its unhappy objects, particularly when 
 young and defenceless. Such a case would at any 
 time instantly engage his sympathies, and call forth 
 all his energies, and it was in such cases that the 
 force and excellence of his character shone forth 
 
 most brightly. Here is an instance, " Eliza W , 
 
 a girl but fifteen years of age, had been brought be- 
 fore the Committees of the Southwark Female Mis- 
 sion and the London Female Penitentiary, as a fallen 
 girl, and, on the mere statement of her mother, had 
 been concluded to be such ; but, in consideration of 
 her age, she had been by them refused admission to 
 their institutions, it being deemed most advisable 
 that she should be under the care of her parents. 
 
PROTECTION TO THE INJURED. 103 
 
 On this, however, a lady, a member of the former 
 committee, sent her to me, in the hope that I should 
 be able to get her into an asylum. But on my in- 
 quiring into the case, I found that there was no evi- 
 dence to support the allegation, notwithstanding 
 there could be no doubt but that she had been a 
 naughty girl. I also found that the woman who 
 had brought her was her stepmother, and that, 
 whilst she preferred so grave a charge against this 
 one, she spoke of her own three children as being all 
 very good. This aroused my suspicions : I imme- 
 diately felt it my duty to attend to the case for the 
 protection of the child. My first step was to inquire 
 into her character, and then see her father. I found 
 that even her naughtiness was chiefly to be laid to 
 the woman's charge, and that her father had too 
 readily listened to the very unfavorable and false re- 
 ports of his wife. This investigation took place in 
 the presence of the mother, and it could soon be seen 
 that I had more influence over the feelings of Mr. 
 W. than she liked. I was concerned to avoid mak- 
 ing unpleasantness between them, if I could ; but at 
 all events, I was resolved to do my duty. I ap- 
 pointed a time when I would see her in the evening, 
 and engaged, in the meantime, to find a suitable 
 asylum for the girl. This I did. But when I went 
 to visit Mr. W., he was out, and was not expected 
 home till very late. I felt that this was a deep- 
 laid scheme of the woman, and said I would see him 
 if I searched the parish round. I then called at 
 
104 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 Lambeth Workhouse to see that the girl had been 
 taken there ; and, whilst talking with the matron, I 
 overheard a conversation between the two door- 
 keepers, which I thought I could turn to my account. 
 It was about that very girl. I said to the junior 
 one, ' Mr. Martin, you know that girl's father, don't 
 you ?' ' Yes, sir,' said he. ' You are going to have 
 a drop of gin with him presently, are you not ?' 
 ' Yes. sir,' he said, with a smile, ' and my mate too, 
 as Mr. W. has been to see if you had brought her 
 here.' I said, ' I should like to go with you.' ' Very 
 well, sir,' said he, * I will go now.' We went to a 
 public-house, where I saw Mr. W. very comfortably 
 seated to his glass of gin and water. I saw I must 
 now bring the matter to an issue. He at first said 
 he could not afford to pay for the girl's living in an 
 asylum. I said, ' Then put away the drink, for I 
 am resolved you shall know the facts of this case.' 
 I then entered into it with him, and he appeared 
 much affected ; fortunately there was no one in the 
 parlor but ourselves. He at length said, ' Well, sir, 
 if I live on two meals a-day, I will follow your ad- 
 vice ; and if you will take her to the asylum, I \vill 
 pay her expenses.' The Reformatory at Westcomb 
 Park, Maze Hill, Greenwich, is the only institution 
 of the kind which admits refractory young people 
 without their having received a magistrate's sen- 
 tence ; I sought, therefore, for her admission into 
 this, and obtained it at the rate of six shillings per 
 
SEASONABLE VISITS. 105 
 
 week. The father went with me, and paid one 
 month's charge in advance." 
 
 There was no description of usefulness he so much 
 desired and rejoiced in, as that which has respect to 
 the spiritual salvation of men, and there is no in- 
 stance of this that appears to have afforded him 
 more devout and grateful satisfaction than the one 
 
 of which the following is an account. Mrs. N 
 
 was a widow, with live small children. Mr. Miller 
 was led to visit her through an illness, by which she 
 was reduced to the brink of the grave. She was, 
 at that time, not only a stranger to the influence of 
 religion, but also was addicted excessively to drink. 
 She received with great readiness and eagerness the 
 instructions of her assiduous and friendly visitor, and 
 earnestly sought to profit by them. " Sir," said she 
 to him, on one of his visits, " a new thought has just 
 come into my mind ; it is, that this illness is not 
 unto death, but that you should be sent unto me, 
 and that I should become what you have just de- 
 scribed, ' a new creature' in Christ Jesus." She was 
 restored to health, but continued to receive Mr. Mil- 
 ler's visits, and attend his meeting. " At my request," 
 says he, " she attended my evening female adult 
 school, where she learned to read and write." She 
 also sent her children to the infant and Sunday 
 schools, became regular herself in attendance on the 
 public ordinances of God's house, and was at length 
 admitted to communion with the church at Surrey 
 Chapel. Amidst the cares and trials of a numerous 
 
 . 1*OV 
 
106 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 family, and circumstances of straitness and scar- 
 city, she continued exemplary in her Christian walk, 
 and was indefatigable in her efforts to lead others to 
 the house of God. In three years from the time of 
 her own conversion, she was instrumental in leading 
 " eleven persons to sit beneath the sound of the gos- 
 pel," and amongst them was " her own father, who 
 had been a most abandoned character," but became 
 through her completely reformed in his moral con- 
 duct, if not also the subject of a spiritual and saving 
 change. 
 
 The following is, in some respects, a still more 
 pleasing instance of usefulness of this description. 
 Mr. , of Place, had formerly been a pro- 
 fessor of religion, and a member of a Christian church 
 in the east of London ; but having removed his resi- 
 dence to this place had fallen into indifference as to 
 the obligations and blessings of religion, and the 
 means of grace. Mr. Miller, on discovering this, 
 made it his business to arouse and reclaim him. 
 While addressing him his daughter, a young woman 
 of about twenty, listened with, great attention, and 
 appeared to be impressed with the importance of 
 spiritual things. "I invited her," says he, "to my 
 meeting ; she promised to attend it. She did so, 
 and induced her father to accompany her. They 
 continued to do this for some months. They then 
 began also to attend a place of public worship. When 
 I saw the father was satisfied with the minister 
 under whom he sat, and that he evinced a love for 
 
INTEMPERATE MOTHER CONVERTED. 107 
 
 the house and ordinances of God, I urged him to get 
 his dismissal from the church to which he had be- 
 longed and seek an union with that with which he 
 worshipped. His daughter said, ' I should like to join 
 the church at the same time with my father.' " 
 Mr. Miller inquired into her motives for this, and 
 sought to elicit her true spiritual state ; and feeling 
 satisfied with her reasons, and being persuaded of 
 the reality of her conversion to God, he says, " I en- 
 couraged her to seek the union she desired." She 
 did so, and the father and daughter were welcomed 
 into the church together. This took place in Octo- 
 ber, 1843. In a monthly report for January, 1" 1-", 
 after referring to this event, he says, " I have now to 
 record the more pleasing intelligence that the mother 
 has been led to take the same steps." This now 
 happy woman had been one of the most wretched 
 slaves of drunkenness, and through her unhappy 
 passion for strong drink had been a source of contin- 
 ual scandal and sorrow to her husband. " In one 
 of her drunken fits," says Mr. Miller, "she scalded 
 her hand, and had to be removed to an hospital. 
 There I visited her. The word of God appeared 
 gradually to make its way, and my visits were val- 
 ued more and more. On her return home, I sug- 
 gested to Mr. the duty and importance of family 
 
 worship." This having been established, she after- 
 wards highly valued, as having been a means of the 
 greatest good to her. She also began to attend the 
 house of God, and when she there saw her husband 
 
108 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 and her child going to the table of the Lord, and 
 herself left to look on or go home alone, she became 
 distressed. She felt her heart to be with them, and 
 that she could not endure that she should not be 
 altogether with them. She made it a matter of 
 prayer, and was led to resolve on making a public 
 profession of religion, and seeking an union with the 
 people of God. She is now a member of the same 
 church as her husband and daughter. It is that 
 connected with the Independent Chapel, York Road. 
 Allusion has been made to his visits in the hospi- 
 tals of the metropolis. These abodes of suffering 
 and sorrowing humanity are singularly favorable 
 as fields for effective religious visitation, and most 
 desirable is it they should be fully and efficiently 
 occupied. The afflictions of which their inmates 
 are the subjects, and those they behold around them, 
 tend powerfully to subdue the spirit, and to rende* 
 it serious and thoughtful, and specially susceptible 
 of deep religious impression ; while their separation 
 from the business and bustle of active life, the quie- 
 tude and silence of the place in which they lay, and 
 the solemnity of the events and doings which are 
 ever and anon taking place before them, greatly con- 
 tribute to strengthen this tendency help to induce 
 this state of mind. Welcome to the poor sufferers 
 within the walls of these dwelling-places of disease 
 and pain is the voice of sympathy, of kindness, and 
 of heavenly wisdom, and the presence of an earnest- 
 ly pious and thoroughly Christian man, who will 
 
MUMMERIES OF A CHAPLAIN. 109 
 
 " show unto them the way of life." How important 
 and desirable that such should be abundantly pro- 
 vided for them. This at present is, in some instan- 
 ces at least, by no means the case. Each of them 
 indeed has a chaplain, but is there always sufficient 
 care that he is a man of the right description ? 
 After visiting in one of the wards of a principal me- 
 tropolitan hospital, in October, l^i-l, Mr. Miller 
 writes : " There have been of late many, very many, 
 important operations in the ward. Some have been 
 followed by death. To the survivors I have been 
 permitted to speak of the best things. They are in 
 general very much pleased to have some one to speak 
 with them freely and familiarly on these matters. 
 Having directed their minds to Christ as the sinner's 
 hope, one of them called me to her bedside, and said, 
 1 There is some good to be got from that, sir ; but I 
 assure you the mummeries that the chaplain talks 
 about are not worth hearing. A few weeks since 
 he came up and said, when prayers were over, that 
 on the day after he hoped he should see all of us 
 that could go to the chapel there, as it was his in- 
 tention to administer the sacrament, because it was 
 St. Matthew's day, which ought to be celebrated as 
 a holy day. In commemoration of him, therefore, 
 he said, " We shall administer that ordinance, and, 
 at the same time, I hope you will remember, that if 
 you do not take the sacrament before you die, it will 
 be utterly impossible for you to get to heaven ; but, by 
 this ordinance, all your sins are washed away." ' 
 
110 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 Such," remarks Mr. Miller, " is tlie doctrine of a chap- 
 lain of the finest hospital in London, and it will at 
 once be seen how dark this place is." If the light 
 the only light that is in thee be darkness, how 
 great is that darkness ! 
 
 Mr. Miller was under no official requirement to go to 
 these " houses of mourning." and indeed was permit- 
 ted to do so only in addition to his ordinary labors. It 
 was of his own spontaneous choice that he visited 
 them. Nor was it without great effort that he obtain- 
 ed access to them. The jealousy of chaplains, and the 
 prejudices of other official persons, for the most part 
 threw no small difficulty in the way. He, however, 
 by prudence and perseverance, succeeded in inspir- 
 ing confidence, in opening himself a way into almost 
 all of them, and in some obtained permission freely 
 to visit the patients. He sometimes met with cases 
 in these noble institutions of a very remarkable char- 
 acter. Here is one : " On the same day," says 
 Mr. Miller, writing on Nov. 23, 184-4, " there died 
 in Lazarus' ward, Guy's Hospital, a wretched man, 
 who would never suffer any one to speak to him on 
 the subject of religion. To all appearance he was 
 miserably poor. He professed to be unable to pay 
 for being shaved, and actually begged a penny from 
 another poor patient in the same ward for the pur- 
 pose. His wife, who is a decent woman, and his 
 children, of whom there were four, were all in the 
 greatest distress. Yet, when he died, there was 
 found about the person of the miserable man no less 
 
DEATH OF A. MISER. Ill 
 
 a sum than 31 8s. What a monster is such a 
 being ! The money was paid over by the steward 
 of the hospital to his widow, who, as sho received it, 
 literally fainted with joy. I used this case,' 7 adds he, 
 " in speaking to the rest in the ward, urging them to 
 lay up treasure in heaven, where moth and rust do not 
 corrupt, and thieves do not break through and steal.'* 
 All those to whom, in these kindly retreats of 
 suffering, he could get access, ho diligently sought 
 to instruct and bless, yet ordinarily his efforts among 
 them had special reference to particular persons to 
 whom he stood in some way related. These he 
 labored for with great assiduity and care, and was 
 the means, in many instances, of leading them to 
 enjoy a peace which the world cannot give, which 
 "neither life, nor death, nor any creature" is able to 
 take away. One only of these shall be mentioned. 
 
 It is that of Mr. H , of ward, St. Thomas' 
 
 Hospital. This poor man, afflicted in body, was 
 still more sorely troubled in spirit. His " sins had 
 taken hold" upon him, "his iniquities had gone 
 over his head." " He felt that he had done more 
 evil than any one, that his sins exceeded those of 
 every other person, and could not be pardoned." 
 ![< had sunk into despondency, and a deep gloom 
 had settled upon his spirit. " I sink in deep mire," 
 he had to complain, " where there is no standing." 
 "'1 am glad,'" said Mr. Miller, "'that you see 
 yourse' in such a light. Had you not done so, I 
 could not have offered to you the blessings of the 
 
112 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 gospel, or, at least, regarded you as in a state of 
 mind to receive them. It is to sinners the gospel is 
 sent, to the chief of sinners especially, and it is to 
 them that its promises are given. And He has 
 said, ' Let the wicked forsake his way, and the 
 unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return 
 unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, 
 and will abundantly pardon ;' and Christ has said, 
 ' The Son of man came into the world to seek and 
 to save that which was lost.' " This last word fell 
 into his heart ' lost !' exclaimed he, and the big 
 tears rolled down his cheek. I knew not whether 
 to regard them as tears of grief or joy, but as I con- 
 tinued to speak of the love of God, and of his wil- 
 lingness to pardon and accept the greatest sinner, a 
 new light seemed to break in upon his soul, and his 
 sorrow gave way to a rapture which cannot be 
 described, and can only be known by those who 
 have felt the same. I was not a little glad to leave 
 him with such a light upon that countenance that 
 had so long been covered with gloom." 
 
 While thus exerting himself, so far as he had 
 opportunity, for the spiritual good of these sons and 
 daughters of affliction, he sought also to enlist the 
 agency of others in the same work, and thus indi- 
 rectly to confer upon them the best blessings. So 
 he uniformly endeavored to get the esteem and con- 
 fidence of the sisters of the wards, and then to 
 induce them to take charge of a quantity of tracts 
 and to circulate them among their patients, and to 
 
THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 113 
 
 point out to him the cases in which any effect was 
 produced. This he succeeded in doing with many 
 of the sisters, and the following is an instance of the 
 success that attended this mode of operation : 
 
 "Visiting," says he, " in ward, Guy's Hospital, 
 
 in 1644, I was told of a poor woman who was too 
 ill to admit of any hope of her ever recovering, hut 
 of whose spiritual state the sister, a pious woman, 
 hoped well. I hastened to her bedside, and had 
 some conversation with her as to the world to come, 
 and her prospects with regard to it, when she said, 
 ' Oh ! it is of no use now to speak to me of those 
 things ; it is too late. I shall die and be undone 
 forever ; there can be no hope for me. No tongue 
 can describe the greatness of the sins I have com- 
 mitted.' I directed her attention to various portions 
 of the word of God, setting forth the freeness of sal- 
 vation, and the readiness of God to pardon and 
 accept the chief of sinners who come to him through 
 Jesus Christ, and dwelling particularly on Isaiah 
 lv-. 6, 7, with which I closed. During the whole 
 of this time she listened with an avidity which I 
 shall not soon forget ; and when at last I paused, 
 she cast her eyes upon rne as if to see whether 
 indeed I believed my own words, and then, with 
 a look which cannot be described, feelingly and 
 solemnly demanded, ' And will he save me ?' ' Yes,' 
 said I, ' if as a poor sinner you come to him in the 
 name of the Lord Jesus Christ.' ' I never could 
 pray,' she proceeded to state, ' till I came here ; 
 8 
 
114 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 since then, I trust, I have prayed in sincerity, 
 thanks to that little tract which the sister lent me.' 
 She lived but a few hours after, but was full of 
 hope, and died praying like the holy Stephen, 'Lord 
 Jesus, receive my spirit.' Thus," observes Mr. 
 Miller, " is seen the importance of making friends 
 of the sisters of these places, who will take charge 
 of a few tracts, and judiciously lend them to the 
 patients." 
 
 No description or degree of usefulness was thought 
 lightly of by him, and no opportunity of doing good 
 or preventing evil, in any form or measure, was 
 overlooked or slighted. On one occasion, when 
 visiting in Guy's Hospital, he was informed that a 
 patient, who was pointed out to him, was about to 
 go out that day, and should take the coach for her 
 home in the country at four o'clock ; but that a 
 girl, whom he knew to be of bad character, had 
 been with her, and had arranged to meet her, to 
 take her in the evening to the theatre, and after- 
 wards to her own home. He instantly saw in this 
 a plot for her moral ruin, and took steps to defeat 
 it. " I named the case/' said he, "to the sister of 
 the ward, who called the girl to me, in her own 
 private room. As soon as the girl understood that 
 the case was known to me, she said she had been 
 very much troubled about it, but knew not what to 
 do ; as, if she went to the coach, the other girl 
 would meet her there. I offered to see her safely 
 off, when she burst into tears, and prepared to 
 
FIRST METROPOLITAN RAGGED SCHOOL. 115 
 
 accompany me. I took her to the coach : the 
 other girl was there, but, as soon as she saw me, 
 ran off as fast as she could." 
 
 In the true spirit of a devoted Christian mission- 
 ary, he identified himself, as far as he could, with 
 every institution and eflort directed to arrest the 
 downward course of lapsed humanity. So at an 
 early period he hastened to seek an union with the 
 Surrey Chapel Auxiliary to the Religious Tract 
 Society, and became one of the most efficient and 
 useful members of its committee. In the same 
 spirit he immediately threw himself, though at a 
 distance from the scene of his labor, into the Sunday 
 Evening Ragged School, Jurston Street, Lambeth, 
 and never afterwards forsook it. This school is said 
 to have been the first of the kind that was formed 
 in London, and, in many respects, has been one of 
 the most efficient and useful. Here Mr. Miller was 
 engaged, first as a teacher, and then for three years 
 as the secretary. And here, from Sabbath to Sab- 
 bath, with rare exceptions, when the "multitude 
 kept holiday," and " went up" together, with Sab- 
 batic tranquillity, to the courts of the Lord, he, 
 with a few others " a band of men whose hearts 
 the Lord had touched" were wending their way 
 to meet the most miserable outcasts of society, and 
 patiently to labor amidst heart-sickening scenes to 
 redeem these hopeless ones from utter ignorance and 
 vice. As the secretary to this school, Mr. Miller 
 contributed greatly to its efficiency, and obtained for 
 
116 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 it a degree of public consideration and influence it 
 never enjoyed before. 
 
 He took a very lively interest in the case of poor 
 and neglected youths, both in and out of the school ; 
 arid never seemed more in his element than when 
 seeking to snatch them from impending ruin. The 
 following is an instance of this, and an example of one 
 of his modes of operation on their behalf. Charles 
 
 was a sharp and intelligent boy, and had 
 
 received what, in the ordinary sense of the phrase, 
 might be called a good education; but in all other 
 respects, had grown up in almost entire neglect. 
 His fkthcr, though an educated man, was an aban- 
 doned profligate ; and his mother was, if possible, 
 still worse. Mr. Miller induced the boy to attend 
 the Jurston Street Ilagged School. In September, 
 1843, Charles's father died. His degraded mother 
 spent all she could in drink, and would often wake 
 up her children at three or four o'clock in the morn- 
 ing to let her in. Poor Charles, destitute of care 
 and support at home, also found himself unable to 
 obtain employment abroad, and was sometimes re- 
 duced almost to desperation. " One Sunday night," 
 gays Mr. Miller, " while at school, this poor boy, 
 having suffered much through hunger, said, ' Mr. 
 Miller, if I don't get something to do soon, I shall 
 make a hole in the river, for I can't stand it much 
 longer.' I remonstrated with him, and urged him 
 still to try to get a place, ' Aye, it's all very fine, 
 Mr. Miller,' said the boy, ' but you know what sort 
 
AN OUTLET PROVIDED. 117 
 
 of characters we have in the neighborhood, and 
 you know, if I got a place to-morrow, my mother 
 would spoil it for me in a day or two.' ' Well, 
 Charley, would you like to go to sea,' said I. ' Yes,' 
 said he, ' and if you will only undertake to get me a 
 "berth, I will do anything you toll me !' 1 directed 
 him to the Marine Society, arid in a few days got 
 him a letter of recommendation to the Committee." 
 On the first meeting of the Committee, he was re- 
 ceived and sent on board one of their ships. In 
 three weeks after, he was bound apprentice on board 
 an Indiaman, and sailed for China. " The day after 
 his being bound, he called on me," says Mr. Miller, 
 " in full sailor's dress to thank me, when, after a 
 long conversation, he said he felt fully convinced 
 that his going away in this manner would prevent 
 his being either transported or hanged, for that he 
 must have done something bad, had he stayed here 
 much longer; and as he told me this, the tears 
 streamed down his cheeks. I knew him to be fond 
 of reading, and therefore presented him with a con- 
 siderable number of tracts, and gave him such couu- 
 Bfi as I thought would best suit his case. On leav- 
 ing, he said, "Well, sir, I shall never forget you ; 
 and if I should live to come back from China, I 
 hops I shall find you well, and that God will pay 
 you for all you have done for my good.' " 
 
 In the same spirit he threw himself into connec- 
 tion with the Christian Instruction Society of Sur- 
 rey Chapel ; penetrated with them from time to 
 
118 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 time, the miserable lodging-houses of the " Mint," 
 and sought among the degraded wrecks of humanity 
 that so thickly strew these shores of life, cast hither 
 by its adverse or indignant hearings, to diffuse the 
 healing truths and influences of a living Christianity. 
 This Mint, as its name imports, is the place where 
 formerly the coin of the realm was made. It was 
 at that time inclosed by gates, within which many 
 families of distinction had their dwellings. The 
 residences of some of these continue to this day. 
 But " how is the gold become dim, and the fine 
 gold changed." The distinguished residents have 
 long ago vanished. The property, at a later period, 
 was thrown into Chancery, and the place became a 
 mart for the sale of furniture, a haunt and harbor 
 for abandoned women, and a hiding-place and strong- 
 hold for thieves. Gradually it has been drained of 
 its trade by the more attractive thoroughfare of the 
 New Cut, and left in the almost sole possession of 
 the dregs of society of every species. It would seem 
 as if formed on purpose to attract and accommodate 
 these. It is extremely close, is furnished with but 
 little more light than suffices to make darkness 
 visible, and abounds in dark and narrow courts. It 
 affords almost every facility for the protection of 
 thieves, and the concealment of their prey. Its 
 houses, in some instances, run one into another, and 
 have different doors for ingress and egress communi- 
 cating with as many various streets. They are also 
 furnished with trap-doors and cellars. One of them 
 
LODGING-HOUSES REVENUES EXACTED. 119 
 
 is distinguished as having long been the dwelling of 
 the infamous " Jack Shepard." Such is the char- 
 acter of the people and the place that, before the 
 establishment of the New Police force, no one would 
 dare to pursue a thief within the gates. Once there, 
 he felt himself, and was felt by all, as safe as if en- 
 trenched in the most impregnable citadel. 
 
 It is now occupied by about nine hundred families, 
 generally numerous; arid of these, in 18-1G, only 
 twenty persons professed to attend any Protestant 
 place of worship. There are in it upwards of thirty 
 lodging-houses. It is difficult for any one not per- 
 sonally acquainted with these places, so abundant 
 now in all the poorer parts of the metropolis, to form 
 any fair arid full idea of them. They differ in size 
 accommodating from ten to upwards of a hundred 
 each. They are in general badly constructed, and 
 worse conditioned. Most of them are kept by per- 
 sons who themselves reside at a distance in the more 
 aristocratic parts of the city, or in the suburbs, deriv- 
 ing from them an ample income, and living in com- 
 parative affluence and splendor. In some cases sev- 
 eral are held by the same person, yielding them an 
 almost princely revenue.* They are sometimes let 
 to individuals at a fixed rent, to be re-let by them ; 
 
 * One man came to London a journeyman carpenter, with 
 but five shillings in his pocket, Jbut afterwards, in this way, 
 realized upwards of 10,000. A single family has been 
 found to hold a great number of these houses, and others, 
 notoriously " bad" iu different parts of the town, and to have 
 
120 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 in other instances they are intrusted to deputies to 
 be managed for the proprietors. They are, for the 
 most part, subjected to the least possible restriction 
 or regulation. Persons of almost every age, charac- 
 ter, sex, and social grade, mix indiscriminately to- 
 gether. " I have seen," says one familiar with them, 
 " the illiterate and the learned, the reckless S} 
 thrift, and the child of misfortune, the broken-down 
 tradesman, the artisan, and laborer, the mother 
 with her babe and her children of a larger growth, 
 and youths, fast shooting into womanhood and man- 
 hood, mixed promiscuously with fallen girls, aban- 
 doned women, and notorious thieves." 
 
 The modes adopted by them for obtaining a liveli- 
 hood are very diversified, and generally very strange. 
 There are beggars of numerous species, ballad-sing- 
 ers, sweepers of public crossings, costermongers, cab- 
 drivers, tumblers in public-houses, jugglers, knob- 
 biers, or mobsmen, with their fancy women, street- 
 walkers, and street-chalkers, highflyers or professional 
 writers of begging letters, cadgers, and thieves of 
 various hue and name, as counter-jumpers, till- 
 priggers, molbursers, whose business it is to dive 
 their hands into ladies' pockets, &c.* 
 
 Here many of the deformed, limping, half-naked 
 
 accumulated the sum of 90,000 to 100,000. In one in- 
 stance, in St. Giles's, both the proprietor and deputy were 
 Roman Catholic priests. See City Mission Magazine, Au- 
 gust, 1845. See Life of a Vagrant, a resident in their midst. 
 * See London L*>bor and the London Poor. 
 
VORTEX OF RUIN. 121 
 
 impostors, who perambulate the streets of London 
 during the day, and by a thousand deceitful arts 
 extort from and rob the public, may be seen at 
 night practically asserting their independency of 
 their crutches, rejoicing in their freedom from the 
 thraldom of their bandages, attired in their proper 
 costume and exhibiting their true characters, regal- 
 ing themselves extravagantly with costly meats and 
 drinks, dancing to the voluptuous sound of music, or 
 gambling and card-playing their favorite occupa- 
 tion uttering oft the most profane and filthy lan- 
 guage, and engaging in the most savage and san- 
 guinary combats, the walls resounding not unseldom 
 to the shriek of terror and the cry of murder. Justly 
 are they designated "the worst sinks of iniquity in 
 the metropolis." No person can once enter them 
 as an abode with impunity. He that ever crosses 
 their threshold, to abide in them though but for a 
 iiight, returns no more the same as he entered. 
 Decency forbids even the mention of the gross and 
 terrible abominations which, in some of them, are 
 continually exhibited. Here youths of both sexes, 
 some driven by the storms of adversity, and others 
 fleeing from their deserted masters and mistresses, 
 or hiding from their forsaken and broken-hearted 
 parents, seduced and runaway children, servants 
 and apprentices, are first placed in the midst of 
 objects and influences that deaden every moral sen- 
 sibility, then drawn into the worst companion- 
 ships, then schooled systematically into professional 
 
122 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 vagrancy and vice, and become at length abandoned 
 street-walkers, inmates of prisons, or tenantry of the 
 hulks and penal settlements. 
 
 It was into these houses that Mr. Miller and his 
 friends were accustomed, from time to time, on a 
 Sabbath afternoon or evening, to carry the lamp of 
 life. Here they read and expounded the word of 
 God, sung his praises, distributed tracts, familiarly 
 conversed, and otherwise sought to disseminate the 
 gospel. The number in attendance averaged about 
 forty. It was a strange and motley assembly, and 
 odd was the spectacle exhibited by them on such 
 occasions. Imagine the speaker, in the centre of a 
 large mess-room ; before him is a huge and blazing 
 fire ; around, on every hand, are benches and tables 
 occupied by persons of the above description. Some 
 are seated, some standing, some lounging or sleeping, 
 some cooking, some eating, some smoking, some 
 talking, criticizing the speaker, or what he says, and 
 most unceremoniously dashing in and out of the 
 room. But this is a favorable view : sometimes the 
 scene was one of the wildest uproar. One of these 
 is mentioned by Mr. Miller, under date of October, 
 1844. "I held (the day previous) a meeting at the 
 
 Lodging-house. There were near forty persons. 
 
 All went on very well, until a drunken woman 
 came in a noted beggar in the streets. As soon 
 as she entered, she said she was not of my religion, 
 so I should not preach there. The landlord appeared 
 and tried to put her to silence, but in vain ; for two 
 
DECAYED PROFESSORS. 123 
 
 men joined the woman, and were worse than she. 
 The tumult rapidly increased. Obscenity and blas- 
 phemy rolled from their tongues like a torrent. 
 Many regretted it, but could do nothing. I tried to 
 proceed, but was unable, so I concluded by giving 
 away some tracts." 
 
 There is a large number of persons scattered 
 through society, who have at some time been mem- 
 bers of Christian churches, and given evidence of 
 decided piety, but have subsequently fallen away 
 from the ways of God, and cast off all profession of 
 religion, who are, notwithstanding, secretly wretched, 
 and want but kindly to be smitten with the rod of 
 truth, to become like the rock in Horeb, fountains 
 of living water. One such case has already inci- 
 dentally been mentioned, as associated with tho 
 labors of Mr. Miller. Here is another : " Mr. 
 
 S , an aged man, bordering upon seventy, was 
 
 for many years a member of the Wesleyan body, 
 but for the last seven has been a wanderer from the 
 fold. From the first he gave a favorable reception 
 to my visits, and even began to appear at my meet- 
 ing. At the close of one of these he came to me, 
 expressing a desire to have some private conversa- 
 tion with me, and requested that he might be per- 
 mitted to call upon me for the purpose, as his 
 daughter was always at his house when I called 
 upon him. He accordingly came at a time I had 
 appointed, and related to me his history with refer- 
 ence to religion. He is another example of open 
 
124 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 apostasy, arising, in the first place, from the neglect 
 of closet prayer. Having finished the mournful 
 story of his declension and fall, he added, 'But, my 
 young friend, the Lord has not suffered you to come 
 to me alone. Your appeals to the conscience have 
 at times almost unmanned me. Your addresses at 
 the meeting have been all to me. I have seen the 
 time when I could not have sat to be talked to by 
 one of your age. But now, sir, I thank God and 
 you for your visits, and I wish now to say how I 
 should like, again to be numbered with the people 
 of God, if you think proper I should be. But what- 
 ever you advise I will gladly do.' I gave him a 
 letter of introduction to one of the members of the 
 Methodist Society, Broadwall, who has since received 
 him into his class : and the poor man says he feels 
 at home again, and prays that he may stray no 
 more." 
 
 The afflicted and the aged were amongst the 
 objects of his special solicitude, and his visits of 
 mercy to their cheerless abodes were joyously wel- 
 comed as the greatest privilege, and in many cases 
 appear to have been a means of the highest good. 
 
 Mrs. M , of "W Street, was the subject of 
 
 great affliction. Through many weary months she 
 watched and waited at the bed of an afflicted hus- 
 band, whom at length she followed to his grave. 
 He was " her all on earth," and bereft of him she 
 saw herself alone in the wide world without a soli- 
 tary friend, and encompassed with poverty on every 
 
THE WORKHOUSE. 125 
 
 hand. Mr. Miller attended her in her trouble, un- 
 folded to her the love of God in Christ, the blessings 
 and consolations of that love, and the way to their 
 obtainmerit. Welcome to her was the voice of 
 Christian sympathy and kindness which she heard 
 in him, and still more the tidings of heavenly bless- 
 ing which he proclaimed. Those tidings she was 
 led to believe, and those blessings she was led to 
 seek and find. She made the Saviour her trust, 
 ' : and on him," says Mr. Miller, " her mind has 
 been stayed amid all her difficulties and troubles. 
 I am her only Christian visitor, and so she would 
 say sometimes, ' Oh, sir, until you came to me I was 
 a stranger to God and to all that is good ; but now 
 I hope I can say, " The Lord is my light and my 
 salvation too." ' After many fruitless struggles to 
 maintain herself, she found at length the attempt 
 was hopeless, and she was compelled at last to 
 accept the asylum of the workhouse. I saw her as 
 she returned from the relieving overseer with her 
 order for the house. She burst into tears and said, 
 1 Oh, Mr. Miller, I do feel it very hard, after work- 
 ing all my life, to be compelled to go into the 
 house.' I said, ' Well, but, my friend, you will be 
 far more comfortable there than out, and I shall sec 
 you each week, which is oftener than I can see you 
 now.' On hearing that she took up her apron, 
 wiped away her tears, and said, 'Do you visit 
 there?' ; Yes, every Friday,' I replied. 'Then,' 
 said she, ' I shall be content. God bless you.' " 
 
126 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 In these secluded places, where there is so little to 
 diversify employment, or break the dull monotony 
 of life, the visits of a frank, sympathizing, and faith- 
 ful man of God, are in general most welcome. His 
 words are listened to with no ordinary respect and 
 love. They are perchance the on]y words of kind- 
 ness and of counsel which ever fall upon their ear, 
 and not a little glad are they to get hold of a fresh 
 and interesting tract from time to time, to fill up the 
 vacuum of life, to vary the dull beat of daily duty 
 or engagement, and to supply them with some mat- 
 ter of new arid pleasing thought and conversation. 
 How eligible are such places us scenes of Christian 
 visitation ! llow full of promise and of hope to 
 those who lovingly enter, and well arid wisely occu- 
 py them ! How loudly is it called for by them ; 
 how imperfectly enjoyed ! The union house of iSt. 
 Saviour's had been perhaps in this respect provided 
 for as well as any, but not so well as to leave no 
 room for further help and elibrt. This Mr. Miller 
 perceived. Attracted by the necessities, not the 
 riches ; the spiritual wants, debasement, and mise- 
 ries, not the temporal distinctions, splendor, and lux- 
 uries of these less favored children of earth, and less 
 successful competitors in the race for fortune, he 
 sought access to this place. And hither, with per- 
 mission of the guardians, he resorted every Friday 
 afternoon, conversing freely and affectionately with 
 the inmates on the things that belong to their peace, 
 and circulating amongst them religious tracts and 
 
APPOINTED CHAPLAIN. 127 
 
 books. Every week he distributed fresh tracts to the 
 number of 300 or 400, besides the books he lent. 
 
 For four years ho continued thus weekly to visit 
 all the poor in that house, and deep was the interest 
 he felt in this department of endeavor. In April, 
 1845, an event tool: place which brought him into 
 a new and more important connection with them. 
 The Rev. E. Newth, who for many years had, in 
 conjunction with the morning chaplain of St. Sa- 
 viour's, conducted religious service with the whole 
 of the inmates, having to remove into the country, 
 resigned his office. Mr. Miller had occasionally of- 
 ficiated for Mr. Newth, and was endeared to the 
 poor by his affectionate and careful visitation of 
 them ; and now that Mr. Newth was retiring, they 
 united in the request that he would seek to succeed 
 him. By their desire, and with the advice of gome 
 of the best of his own friends, Mr. Miller addressed 
 the board of guardians on the subject, when the ap- 
 pointment was immediately given hitn. He com- 
 menced his labors on the 2d of May, and continued 
 freely and diligently to perform them, addressing 
 from 300 to 400 people with acceptance, from week 
 to week, to his death. His benevolent exertions 
 amongst these less favored partakers of our common 
 humanity, were a means to some of the highest good. 
 
 Here is an instance. " Mr. C is a blind man. 
 
 He has long been the subject of deep conviction of 
 sin and great concern for the condition of his soul. 
 He says it is owing to what I have said to him on 
 
128 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 these subjects from time to time. His great diffi- 
 culty has been to know how so great a sinner could 
 be made fit to go to heaven, or could be forgiven. 
 I directed his attention at different times to various 
 portions of the word of God calculated to remove 
 this difficulty, and to guide him into the way of 
 salvation. God has been pleased to bless these in- 
 structions, and he is now, I believe, a possessor of 
 that liberty which is known only to the people of 
 God." 
 
 Another and more interesting case is recorded by 
 
 him. " When I first visited Mr. , in the St. 
 
 Saviour's Union, he was a stranger to all religion. 
 He had often heard me read in the ward, but, until 
 I distributed the tract ' All's Well,' he was a ' hearer 
 only.' He read this tract many times. The follow- 
 ing Sunday he attended my meeting, for, as he af- 
 terwards told me, ' he could not rest/ At length 
 he opened his mind to me, and desired to be directed 
 as to his uniting himself with the people of God. I 
 watched him closely for eighteen months, and find- 
 ing him a consistent follower of Christ, I hesitated 
 not in advising him. He became a communicant at 
 St. Saviour's, as he preferred the preaching of the 
 Rev. J. Benson. But' after this his career was 
 short. He was taken ill and removed to the infir- 
 mary, where I visited him. He was very anxious 
 to know that he was not deceiving himself. He had 
 many conversations with me on this point : at length 
 his mind became more and more fixed on Christ and 
 
AT DYRHAM PARK. 129 
 
 his \vord, so that, while he heheld in himself noth- 
 ing but perfect weakness, he was enabled to cast 
 away his doubts and fears. The influence of this 
 man's piety was felt by many in the house, so much 
 so, that some say now, when his name is mentioned, 
 ' He was indeed a good man, though we had known 
 him to be a very wicked man.' He was respected 
 by all for his kind advice, and at times for rebuking 
 the use of bad language. The last time I saw him, 
 he said, ' If you never see any other good of your la- 
 bors in this house, I hope you will be grateful, for 
 God has made you the instrument in my conversion, 
 and I hope you will have many more conversions.' 
 In this peace of mind he died. His last prayer, I 
 un told, was for the outpouring of the Spirit of God 
 on my labors in that house ; may that prayer be 
 heard and answered." 
 
 During the summer months of each year he was 
 accustomed, for the benefit of his health, to spend a 
 portion of time upon the estate of that excellent 
 Christian gentleman, the Hon. Captain Trotter, of 
 Dyrham Park, during which he visited and con- 
 versed with the families and individuals resident or 
 employed on the estate, held religious services, and 
 distributed tracts amongst the laborers, who at this 
 time of the year were very numerous ; many of them 
 Irish Romanists. These incidental efforts appear to 
 have been highly valued by the people among whom 
 they were put forth, and in some cases were greatly 
 useful. Several examples might be adduced. Here 
 9 
 
130 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 is one. Being on the captain's estate on Sunday, 
 June 1st, 1845, Mr. Miller held a meeting for prayer 
 and exposition of the Scriptures, which was attended 
 by upwards of 200 of these poor people. il The 
 morning following," says Mr. Miller, " I went to one 
 barn where there were about twenty-five Irishmen, 
 intending to engage with them in reading and 
 prayer. The day being wet was favorable to my 
 purpose. As I entered the barn it appeared com- 
 pletely dark. I stood in the light of the doorway at 
 which I entered, where they all could see me, ; 
 said aloud, ' Well, my lads, I hope you are all in 
 good health this morning ?' * Ah, Mr. Miller,' shouted 
 out one at the top of his voice, from the more dis- 
 tant part of the barn, ' 1 have been thinking of 
 ever since, and if you will stop till I come do 
 will shake hands with you. God bless you ! It is 
 this three or four years since I have seen you.' By 
 this time he reached the place where I stood, an 
 certainly if a tight grip and earnest shake of th 
 hand are any proof of affection, there was no wan 
 of it in Barney Renegau. 'Now,' said he, 'm 
 lads, listen to him, he will tell you what is good 
 and may God bless him that he may ncv-. 
 bread.' " This odd and rude sort of introdncl 
 found to be of real service to him. "The 
 most attentive while I spoke, and read, and praye 
 with them, and afterwards united to pour forth will 
 overwhelming profusion their best and wamiei 
 wishes for me. But Barney llenegan left the re! 
 
DOMESTIC LABORS AND FRUITS. 131 
 
 ul walked with me somewhat more than a mile, 
 lling me how he had been led to cast off Popery, and 
 hat persecutions he had had in consequence to en- 
 ire in Ireland, and how the New Testament I had 
 Iven him three years before, had been his constant 
 jmpanion and comforter. ' I had,' said he affect- 
 iirly, ' no other friend in the world.' " 
 
 When there, in February 7, 1843, he established 
 
 t the house of a farmer on the estate, a weekly 
 
 : for religious conversation and prayer, which 
 
 Dntiuued to be held for some years, and was some 
 
 hat numerously attended. 
 
 The numerous member's of the captain's house- 
 si d were the objects of his affectionate and assidu- 
 Torts, and there were those among them to whom 
 jors were a means of great and lasting good. 
 l this the following letter, copied from one written 
 V T the French governess of the family, will afford 
 teresting illustration : 
 
 " Dyrham Park, March 31. 
 
 " Mv DEAR ME. MILLEB, I would have answered your 
 hid letter sooner, if I had not been prevented by the diffi- 
 ilty of expressing myself in English ; but I -will now put 
 side all fear, and trusting in the Lord, I will try, hoping that 
 ou will forgive my mistakes. The reading of your letter 
 ade me very glad. I was pleased to see that, even absent, 
 ou continued to care for the welfare of my everlasting soul ; 
 therefore assured that I shall be most thankful for any 
 dvice and encouragement you may give me, and your letters 
 [ways shall be welcome to me. Your departure left every 
 ne who knows you in sorrow ; but it was the will of our 
 icaveuly Father, and complaining would not only be useless, 
 
132 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 but ungrateful towards him who provided so well for us dur- 
 ing Mr. T.'s absence. We have every reason to believe that 
 youi residence among us has proved a blessing to some, as 
 fur as we poor mortals can judge ; we think so, for since you 
 came, there has beat a change in some of the maid-servants. 
 May the Lord grant his blessing on th jir efforts. I was very 
 sorry not to have seen you before your departure. I ha 1 
 many things to ask you, but particularly to thank you for all 
 the trouble you had taken in teaching us; God, in his ever- 
 lasting mercy, will reward you for all you did, and all you do 
 now for poor, sinful, perishing soul?. Dear Mr. Miller, how 
 often I wish I could have the opportunity of conversing 
 again with you, of expressing freely what I feel, and what I 
 want. My earnest desire is to live entirely after God's com- 
 mandments, and to devote the remainder of my days to my 
 Saviour ; but there; are many temptations within and without, 
 and I feel I do not go on as I ought to do. I will be candid 
 with you, dear friend, and tell you that I very often think 
 that my faith is not the true faith; this thought makes me 
 feel sometimes very miserable tell me, is this thought a 
 temptation of Satan 1 At other times I would not exchange 
 the peace, the joy I found in my Redeemer fur all the world 
 could afford. Oh then, only then, do I feel happy ; then 
 is Jesus my Saviour precious to my soul I love him above 
 all, but not enough. I grieve, mourn over the coldness and 
 ingratitude of my heart, particularly when I meditate on his 
 wonderful love for us, and on his great sacrifice ! Dear Mr. 
 Miller, pray for me, pray for anew and contrite heart, a heart 
 full of love for him ' who loved us.' You know what St. 
 James says, ch. v. 16 ; your prayers must be answered. The 
 texts of scripture you sent me are very comforting. They 
 led me to examine myself, to see if indeed I was one of our 
 Saviour's sheep, if indeed those beautiful promises nro also 
 for me. I would not deceive you nor myself, so I will tell 
 you that some parts gave me great comfort, others distr 
 my mind, and made me think how very little I have done, 
 
REAPING IN JOT. 133 
 
 till now, to show my love and gratitude to him who died for 
 such a sinner as I am. If you knew, Mr. Miller, how God 
 dealt with me, and what have been his mercies towards me 
 I can say, that in the furnace of adversity, his hand waa 
 leading me; whispering t- my fainting heart, 'It is I, be not 
 afraid.' Oh, his promise is ever sure.. John xiv. 18. I am, 
 rather afraid to tire you witli such a long letter, but remem- 
 ber that you asked me to speak freely, and so I do. How 
 are you now ? Is your health better than when you wrote to 
 me ( May the Lord soon open the way for your removal from 
 town. I assure you many are the wishes to have you near us ; 
 but we must wait the Lord's own time he knows better. 
 How glad I should have been to have met you in London, 
 where I spent a few days. Do not be surprised if I stop you 
 one day or another in the street ; it is such a pleasant thing 
 to meet a Christian friend, particularly in the Babylon you 
 
 inhabit. Mrs. C sends her very best regards to you; 
 
 we meet sometimes, for a little reading and prayer, and when 
 we kneel down at the throne of grace, you are not forgotten. 
 "With many thanks for your very kind note and advice, 
 believe me, my dear Mr. Miller, yours truly in Christ, 
 
 In the latter part of the year 1845, Mr. Miller 
 was visited with much domestic and personal afflic- 
 tion, and was laid aside almost wholly ibr several 
 months. But during this time an event took place 
 for which he had labored long before without any 
 apparent success an event which now afforded him 
 great delight, and which may encourage others to 
 toil on even when no appearairces of fruit may present 
 themselves. There was a young man in the count- 
 ing-house of his superintendent, who had obtained a 
 strong hold of his affectionate sympathies. The young 
 
134 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 man had been respectably brought up, was of amia- 
 ble disposition, and reputable moral character, but 
 did not see that anything more was necessary. " I 
 embraced," says Mr. Miller, " every opportunity of 
 getting into conversation with him, and of throwing 
 light upon his mind. At the same time, as I felt 
 more than ordinary interest in him, and often grieved 
 over his love of theatrical amusements and reckless 
 waste of his property, upon these I made him the 
 subject of many prayers." For more than two years, 
 Mr. Miller continued thus to seek his good, apparent- 
 ly without effect. At length the desired change 
 was brought about. Mr. C had been one Sat- 
 urday night to a theatre, and the evening following, 
 as it might have seemed by chance, he strolled into 
 Surrey Chapel. The Rev. James Pridie, of Halifax, 
 was the minister for the evening, and the text was, 
 "Young men exhort to be sober-minded." What 
 he then heard recalled all that his friend, Mr. Miller, 
 had told him from time to time, and he felt that he 
 could go on this way no longer. The day following 
 he sought a private interview with Mr. Miller, and 
 told him of the case. " It seemed," said he, " as if 
 you had been telling the minister all about me, and 
 it brought afresh to my mind all your conversation 
 with me." " Like the stricken deer that seeks the 
 shade," says Mr. Miller, " he came to pour out to me 
 the anguish of his soul. We read, and conversed, 
 and prayed together for several hours, during which 
 he wept much, and seemed unwilling to leave me. 
 
PRAYER ANSWERED. 135 
 
 And when lie heard that for more than two years he 
 had been the subject of my prayers, he was greatly 
 surprised and affected. ' No wonder, then,' said he, 
 ' that I have been so unhappy in the theatre. How 
 I could be esteemed worthy of your prayers I cannot 
 tell ; but I must look to you to be my friend, and 
 whatever you may advise me, I shall be most will- 
 ing to do.' He shortly after became a member of 
 the church at Surrey Chapel, a diligent and efficient 
 Sabbath-school teacher, and an active Christian." 
 
 He was at the same time gladdened with the re- 
 port of another case, presenting a delightful triumph 
 of long-protracted and apparently unavailing efforts. 
 "In the year 18-12 I first visited a family which 
 was frequently the subject of great discord and 
 
 strife. Mr. W , the head of the family, is a good 
 
 man, and, like Joshua, endeavors with his house to 
 serve the Lord ; but his mother, who lived with 
 him, was strongly averse to religion ; and hence 
 came all their trouble. She could not endure the 
 religious order of her son's house ; always did her 
 utmost to escape the pain of being present at family 
 prayer. She finally left the house, and went to re- 
 side in the town of Macclesfield." Mr. Miller had 
 frequently visited and expostulated with her, labor- 
 ing to convince her of the sinfulncss of her state, arid 
 to lead her to repentance, but apparently without 
 success. While, however, at Macclesfield, the truth 
 was made to take hold of her mind. She had es- 
 caped from the home and offensive piety of her son, 
 
136 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 but it was only to brood over her own sir. and the 
 misery to which she was exposing her soul. She 
 was led, after some time, to a place of worship ; it 
 was an Independent Chapel. There her convictions 
 were deepened, and her trouble increased. " She 
 wrote," says Mr. Miller, "to me, telling me the 
 state of her mind, and asking my advice. I exhorted 
 her to continue in her attendance at the house of 
 God, telling her that I know the minister, and com- 
 mending him to her. I also gave her such other 
 counsel and encouragement as I thought suitable to 
 her case ; and during my stay in the country, I was 
 comforted by a letter from her, in which she states 
 she has been received as a member into the church 
 under the pastoral care of the Rev. S. Bowen." 
 
 His was a district that literally swarmed with that 
 " curious race of human beings" so abundant in all 
 parts of the metropolis, known as the objects of 
 Ragged School philanthropy, children and youths 
 who have been left, without instruction, restraint, or 
 control, to run wild upon the streets, exposed to 
 every wandering temptation, doomed there to eke 
 out for themselves a miserable subsistence, mostly 
 casual, always demoralizing, often criminal ; and, 
 consequently, lost in ignorance, vice, and misery, or 
 have been systematically trained to crime and in- 
 famy. They are indeed a remarkable race, " bold, 
 perty, and dirty as London sparrows, but pale, feeble, 
 and sadly inferior to them in plumpness of outline. 
 Their business, or pretended business, seems to vary 
 
SWARMING OUTCASTS. 137 
 
 with the locality. At the west end, they deal in 
 Lucifer matches, audaciously beg, or tell a touching 
 1 tale of woe.' In the central parts of the town, 
 Holborn, the Strand, and the regions adjacent to 
 them, the numbers very greatly increase ; a few are 
 pursuing the avocations above mentioned of their 
 more Corinthian fellows. Many are spanning the 
 gutters with their legs, and dabbling with earnest- 
 ness in the last accumulation of nastiness ; while 
 others, in squalid and half-naked groups, squat at 
 the entrance of the narrow, fetid courts and alleys 
 that lie concealed behind the deceptive frontages of 
 
 our large thoroughfares But it is in 
 
 Lambeth and Westminster that we find the most 
 flagrant traces of their swarming activity." 
 
 When, in the year 1844, the "Rookery" in St. 
 Giles' was pulled down, large numbers of the most 
 wretched and degraded people who had harbored 
 there, crossed the Thames, and settled in the locality 
 in which Mr. Miller labored, and its surrounding 
 neighborhood. Many of these had large families, 
 made up almost wholly of youths of the above de- 
 scription. The event thus contributed to swell pro- 
 digiously the number of these forlorn and miserable 
 sharers of our common humanity who had previously 
 abounded in the district. Within an area extending 
 but little beyond the scene of his labors, there were 
 2,746 youths of this class at from 7 to 14 years of 
 age, of whom 972 attended no school whatever, ex- 
 cept the Sunday Evening Ragged School in the 
 
138 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 neighborhood, with which he was connected, and 
 where the instruction given was, very properly, al- 
 most purely religious. But few of them attended 
 this. It is with reference to this, and other contigu- 
 ous parts, that the noble writer above quoted, > 
 " There the foul arid dismal passages are thronged 
 with children of both sexes, and of every age from 
 three to thirteen. Though wan and haggard, they 
 are singularly vivacious, and engaged in every sort 
 of occupation but that which would be beneficial to 
 themselves and creditable to the neighborhood 
 Their appearance is wild ; the matted hair, the dis- 
 gusting filth that renders necessary a closer inspec- 
 tion before the flesh can be discerned between the 
 rags which hang about it, and the barbarian freedom 
 from all superintendence and restraint, fill the mind 
 of a novice in these tilings with perplexity and dis- 
 may Visit these regions in summer, and you are 
 overwhelmed by the exhalations ; visit them in 
 winter, and you are shocked by the spectacle of hun- 
 dreds shivering in apparel that would be scanty in 
 the tropics. Many are all but naked. Those that 
 are clothed are grotesque ; the trousers, where they 
 have them, seldom pass the knee ; the tailed coats 
 very frequently trail below the heels. In this guise 
 they run about the streets and line the banks of the 
 river at low water, seeking coals, sticks, corks, for 
 nothing comes amiss as treasure trove. Screams of 
 delight burst occasionally from the crowd, and leave 
 the passer-by, if he be in a contemplative mood, to 
 
A SAD SURVEY. 139 
 
 wonder and rejoice that moral and physical degra- 
 dations have not yet broken every spring of their 
 youthful energies." 
 
 Many of them are without any home, and never 
 know the luxury of a bed ; many others have none 
 but the wretched lodging-houses. And any who 
 have retreats of their own, are found, when traced 
 to these, to be encompassed with every form of evil 
 that can offend the sense and deaden the morals. 
 These chiefly are the ranks from which our prisons 
 are replenished from time to time, and our penal 
 settlements peopled. They live mainly by begging 
 and stealing. Mr. Miller had long contemplated 
 the condition of these swarming outcasts with amaze- 
 ment and distress, and had looked in vain around 
 him foi some means of rescue. He particularly 
 wished to obtain for them the advantage of some 
 general education, such as their age and circum- 
 stances would admit of their receiving. But how 
 to do this, was the difficulty. Filthy, ragged, dis- 
 eased, and crime-worn, their personal appearance, 
 apart from everything else, would prevent their ad- 
 mission to any British or National schools, and cut 
 them off from all hope of education, except through 
 schools specially adapted to their case, and exclu- 
 sively confined to them. Mr. Miller having been 
 accustomed, for some years, to take a leading part 
 in the Sunday Evening Ragged School in Jurston 
 Street, had seen much of the working of such insti- 
 tutions, and acquired considerable fitness to conduct 
 
140 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 them. He accordingly determined to establish " A 
 "Week Evening Ragged School for Youth of both 
 Sexes," but for purposes more comprehensive. The 
 difficulties of such an undertaking, under his circum- 
 stances, were very great, and required vast moral 
 energy and perseverance to overcome. These he 
 fairly surveyed and fully estimated, but did not for a 
 moment shrink from. " Gigantic," wrote he, " as 
 this plan may appear, I feel persuaded that I have 
 only to begin the work in a spirit of faith and pray- 
 er, and the mountain will disappear." For several 
 months he was engaged in seeking a suitable place 
 for it, without being able to find one satisfactory to 
 himself. In the meantime, " I was favored," says he, 
 " with the company of the Right Hon. Lord Ashley, 
 who for some days visited with me from house to house, 
 and from room to room, in one of the most wretch- 
 ed and inhospitable parts of my district, and wit- 
 nessed scenes of the most revolting and heart-rending 
 description. At the close of one of these days, as his 
 lordship sat in my house and spoke of the scenes he 
 had beheld, I mentioned my project of a week even- 
 ing school for the neglected youth. His lordship 
 immediately said he would do all in his power to aid 
 me in it, and accordingly, in a few days after, he 
 met at my house several ministers and gentlemen, 
 whom I had invited to consult with hirn on the 
 matter, when the following resolution was passed 
 unanimously : ' That from the statement just made 
 by Mr Miller, City Missionary of Broadwail, it is 
 
A RAGGED EVENING SCHOOL. 141 
 
 the opinion of this meeting that a week evening 
 school for ragged children in this locality is needful 
 and practicable, and that we form ourselves into a 
 committee to carry the same into eflect, and that 
 three gentlemen be appointed to look for suitable 
 premises in which to commence operations.' " 
 
 This latter business, however, almost wholly de- 
 volved upon himself. His infant school was then 
 held in one part of the upper room of a large erec- 
 tion, chiefly of wood, in Broadwall, the lower story 
 being out of use and unfit for any. At his sugges- 
 tion this place was chosen, and to fit it for the pur- 
 pose contemplated, it was subjected to very exten- 
 sive alterations. The improvements were made 
 chiefly under his personal direction, and the bulk of 
 the costs, which amounted to about 30, was pro- 
 vided for by his exertions. 
 
 The alterations were completed with all possible 
 expedition ; in the meantime excellent teachers had 
 been found by him ; and on the evening of the 13th 
 July, 1846, the school was opened. Crowds of 
 dirty, ragged, bold, and reckless youths, far exceed- 
 ing every expectation, presented themselves as can- 
 didates for admission. Only a part of them could 
 be taken in ; seventy of each, boys and girls, being 
 deemed as many as could be at first efficiently in- 
 structed and governed by two teachers. Those 
 admitted were accordingly restricted to this number. 
 A strange and motley group they were ; the pencil 
 of Hogarlh only could do justice to the pathos and 
 
142 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 the humor of the spectacle they formed. Many of 
 them had been the frequent inmates of prisons, 
 some, of almost all those in and about the metrop- 
 olis, but were, with reference to the discipline of 
 these, emphatically 
 
 " Worse for mending, washed to fouler stains." 
 
 Some were from the worst dens of infamy, kept by 
 i heir own parents, and some were themselves its 
 victims, at once the offspring and devotees of 
 shameless impurity. Some were the children of 
 convicts, and in the way too likely to occasion their 
 becoming such themselves ; many were orphans ; a 
 large proportion subsisted by what they got upon 
 the streets, as costermongers, vagrants, thieves, &c. 
 And yet there was about them something interesting 
 and hopeful. The girls were maidenly and modest 
 in their demeanor, and the boys had vivacity and 
 kindly humor. It was evident they regarded the 
 idea of their going to school as forming matter for 
 "fine fun." On the evening when opened, the boys 
 and girls were for a short time assembled in the 
 same room, and, after being duly instructed about 
 what was proposed to be done for them, and what 
 would be expected from them, they were addressed 
 by their newly-installed master on the subject of 
 obedience. Cunning glances were rapidly inter- 
 changed in all directions, every variety of imagina- 
 ble grimace was exhibited, now and then a good- 
 natured jest was uttered, commonly at the master's 
 
HOW TO MAKE A DONKEY GO. 143 
 
 expense, or a strange antic performed ; and in a few 
 instances attempts were made to upset all order and 
 turn the business into fun. After several unsuccess- 
 ful essays at this, one bold fellow sang out "at if I 
 had a donkey vot vouldn't go," and the whole 
 mass burst into a loud and wild laugh. The master 
 paused, and then said, " Well, now, suppose you 
 had a donkey what wouldn't go, and you had a load 
 of corn to carry to a given place, and you found 
 yourself in consequence conquered, would that be 
 right in the donkey?" "No, sir," answered every 
 voice. " Certainly not," said the master ; " and I 
 hope that young man does not mean to compare you 
 to donkeys. I should be sorry to do so, for you have 
 minds that can think and reason, you have souls 
 that will not die, and my desire is, to lead you to 
 exercise those minds, and to learn the value of your 
 souls. But let me here just say, you must not look 
 on the donkey as being everywhere that stupid and 
 unmanageable sort of animal which the cruelty of 
 Englishmen has made him. If he is well fed arid 
 regularly cleaned, he is a pretty and useful creature. 
 In some countries, even princes would think it no 
 disgrace to, ride upon one ; and if you and I become 
 more acquainted, I shall be able to tell you of a 
 Prince of princes who rode on one. But now, to 
 come back to the point we had in hand, there is the 
 donkey and the load to be carried, and this young 
 man wants the donkey to go ; tell me what is to be 
 done." "Why, hold a bunch of carrots before his 
 
144 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 nose, to be sure," responded one, drily. " That," 
 said the master, " would be very kind of you ; and 
 you may depend upon it, that donkey would like 
 it much better than the broomstick, such as many 
 beat and torture him with ; and I am very much 
 obliged to that youth for the bunch of carrots, 
 mid it is my intention to hold out to you such in- 
 ducements as may lead you to continue under my 
 care until you know the value and importance of 
 instruction ; so now, my boys, follow me into our 
 own school-room." " This is a jolly good cove, aint 
 he ?" said the lads, good-humoredly, as, with many 
 strange grimaces and antics, they moved off after 
 him. " I shall like this school." 
 
 But it was not always in such mild and manage- 
 able forms that their disorderly tendencies and ec- 
 centric dispositions showed themselves. There were 
 a number of Irish lads who had, on some account, 
 conceived a feeling of hostility towards the rest, and 
 entered into a conspiracy against them. They had 
 determined to fall suddenly upon their supposed ene- 
 mies, on leaving school, and had furnished them- 
 selves with short sticks, which they attempted to 
 conceal beneath their clothes. Thanks tp their tat- 
 tered garments, this device failed : for, from beneath 
 the garb of some, whose jackets had long before 
 taken leave of their sleeves, and, in fact, were but 
 the ragged remnants of their former selves, the sticks 
 looked out and told tales in school. These unsightly 
 weapons, thus unluckily protruding from their worn- 
 
145 
 
 out scabbards, quite defeated their wicked plot, and 
 gave occasion for a wholesome lecture on " peace." 
 Notwithstanding, a second attempt was made soon 
 after ; although in this instance the viper was killed 
 before it was fairly hatched, it was deemed desira- 
 ble in future, for a limited time, to secure the pres- 
 ence of a policeman. It happened, fortunately, that 
 the one obtained was a young man of kindly dispo- 
 sition, and of some sympathy with the work, he hav- 
 ing been accustomed in previous years to teach in a 
 Sabbath-school : he accordingly took a lively inter- 
 est in the operations of the boys and girls, some- 
 times hearing them read, and then helping them in 
 their sums, and so the lads, out of very respect and 
 love, called him the "King of the Peelers." 
 
 Degraded as these poor outcasts were, and fallen, 
 as they seemed to be, even beyond help and hope, 
 they were by no means entirely destitute of a sense 
 of the importance of instruction. One poor boy, 
 being observed for several nights to sleep, was asked 
 how it was. " I think," said he, " it's 'cause I gets 
 up so early in the morning." "At what time do 
 you get up, my boy ?" he was asked again. " At 
 four o'clqck," was the reply. " And why do you 
 get up so soon ?" " 'Cause I sells watercresses, and 
 if I didn't go at that time I couldn't get 'em." 
 
 Of the privations to which these hapless youths 
 
 are subject, few have any idea. Perceiving two 
 
 boys much taken up with something, and apparently 
 
 at play, the master called upon them to give up the 
 
 10 
 
146 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 playthings to him ; they put into his hand a short 
 pipe arid a small paper of tobacco. They were but 
 thirteen years of age. " Who gave you these ?" 
 said the master. " I bought them, sir," was the re- 
 ply. " Why, do you smoke, R ?" The little 
 
 fellow colored up, and said, "Yes, Mr. C ." 
 
 " On putting it upon the mantel-piece," says Mr. 
 Miller, " I said to a young man near me, one of the 
 scholars, ' Who would think that that little fellow 
 smoked?' 'They have that,' said he, 'instead of 
 wittles. When they are at the water-side, and have 
 no grub, they smoke instead of eating.' " These 
 poor boys were what they call mud-larks, a descrip- 
 tion of youths who are accustomed to attend at the 
 river-side on the ebbing of the tide, and wade into 
 the mud in search of coals and other store that 
 chance may have thrown in the way, and who de- 
 pend upon these acquisitions for their support. 
 
 Notwithstanding their great and manifold priva- 
 tions, they were not unwilling to pay for the advan- 
 tages of education, so far as they could. Many of 
 those who wished to write, very readily paid for 
 their own copy-books ; and a considerable propor- 
 tion of them, when informed by Mr. Miller that the 
 Ragged School Union would sell them Bibles for Gd. 
 each, and that they might subscribe for them in the 
 smallest sums, as they might be able, immediately 
 gave in their names. " I'll have one," said one 
 girl before all the rest, lifting up at the same time 
 her halfpenny in her hand ; " put my name down, 
 
FIRST STEPS OF IMPROVEMENT. 147 
 
 sir." Her mother was the keeper of a house noto- 
 rious at once as a harbor for young thieves, and a 
 retreat for abandoned girls. 
 
 All that was first attempted or contemplated in 
 this school, was to give instruction in a kindly and 
 attractive manner to these wretched objects, in read- 
 ing, writing, and arithmetic, in the Sacred Scrip- 
 tures, in religious and moral truth, and other 
 branches of human knowledge, as far as might be 
 practicable. But there was subsequently introduced 
 a new and important arrangement, intended practi- 
 cally to train them to the habit of industry, and to 
 an acquaintance with certain useful kinds of handi- 
 craft. The girls were taught plain needlework, and 
 the boys tailoring and shoemaking. Classes were 
 formed for instruction in each of these arts, and 
 competent persons engaged to teach them. By the 
 end of the first half-year after their formation, it 
 was announced that " the tailors had made numer- 
 ous caps and several pairs of trousers, the button- 
 holes only being the work of their teacher ; and that 
 the shoemakers also, had made surprising progress." 
 An incident is given in the first annual report illus- 
 trative of this. It was Mr. Miller's practice to ob- 
 tain for the school, as far as he could, gifts of cast- 
 off clothes, first, as an exercise, to be repaired by the 
 scholars, and then to be given as rewards for indus- 
 try and good conduct. They were found more eli- 
 gible for this purpose even than new garments, inas- 
 much as they could not be pawned by their friends, 
 
148 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 as those not unfrequently were, for mere drink. One 
 of these gifts deserves notice. A gentleman having 
 previously, within a few days, presented the school 
 with three parcels of cast-oil' clothes, called at the 
 secretary's house with a fourth thus humorously en- 
 dorsed 
 
 " I leave at Mr. Miller's door, 
 My clothes' donation number four. 
 One ragged shirt, two ragged stocks ; 
 Some ragged gloves and ragged socks, 
 One ragged coat to warm the cool 
 Of ragged boys in th' ragged school ; 
 But not so bad a stitch or two 
 Is all they want to make them do. 
 Wishing all happy, I remain, 
 Their humble servant, Joseph P." 
 
 In one parcel there were sent, among other things, 
 a pair of boots, which were afterwards given to one 
 of the hoys to mend. Mr. Miller perceiving him 
 doing his best at soling and heeling them, and mistak- 
 ing them for a pair of his own he had given, prom- 
 ised the boy a shilling towards a new pair for him- 
 self in case he should " finish them nicely ;" Mr. 
 Miller intending to wear them as a proud trophy of 
 success in this dear department of his labors. They 
 were satisfactorily completed, cleaned, and put upon 
 the shelf, to await an occasion worthy of them. But 
 when the occasion came, and he attempted to put 
 them on, he discovered, tc his sore disappointment, 
 that they were not his. They were afterwards 
 found to have been sent as a gift to the school by 
 
SYSTEM OF TRAINING. 145 
 
 that devoted and valuable friend of the ragged juve- 
 niles, Joseph Payne, Esq., barrister-at-law. To him 
 they were accordingly forwarded, with the history 
 of the case ; he readily paid the cost, and subse- 
 quently, on great ragged-school occasions, with hon- 
 est pride and pleasure, wore and esteemed them as 
 the substantial badges of a moral triumph far more 
 exalted than any achieved by the warrior's sword. 
 
 The girls, also, were very assiduous in their de- 
 partment, and soon learned to turn out well-made 
 garments with considerable despatch. Lord Ashley, 
 in an article already adverted to, referring to this 
 school with a view particularly to this peculiarity in 
 its arrangements, observes : " We may describe one 
 lately established as a sample of the extension and 
 improvement which we may generally anticipate. 
 The system is that recommended by the British and 
 Foreign Society. The studies begin with Scripture 
 lessons, are carried through all the gradations of 
 the primer, slate pencil, and Cocker, aided by a 
 variety of attractive illustrations, and end with a 
 hymn. This is the case four nights of the week, and 
 on the fifth (and here is the new feature) the chil- 
 dren having commenced as usual, are disposed of in 
 industrial classes ; the girls to every kind of needle- 
 work, the boys to the crafts of tailoring and shoe- 
 making. Admission to the industrial classes is treated 
 as a reward, none being allowed to join them who 
 do not present a ticket as an evidence of their regu- 
 lar attendance during the former days of the week. 
 
150 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 The number present on the last evening of which we 
 have a return, were 63 girls and 42 boys, all brought 
 from the most miserable localities. All were dili- 
 gent and well pleased with the notion of mending 
 their own clothes. A bargain was struck between 
 the two classes of lads, that the tailors should mend 
 coats for the shoemakers, and the shoemakers return 
 the compliment to the tailors. Though the number 
 which have been admitted into the school amounts 
 to 283, yet the average attendance, such is the spirit 
 of rambling, goes no higher than 53 boys and 71 
 girls. The school is open from half-past six to nine 
 o'clock. 
 
 " The expenses of this establishment," continues 
 his lordship, " are moderate ; the entire cost, includ- 
 ing wages to master-tailor, master-shoemaker, and 
 mistress of the needle-girls, being only about three- 
 pence a week for each child, on the average attend- 
 ance of 124, and not much more than a penny on 
 the full complement of those admitted." 
 
 " Since the above was written," says Mr. Miller, 
 writing a few months after, "the school has made 
 great advances. Each youth is now permitted to 
 purchase clothes in the school at half the cost price 
 of the raw materials, and such is the influence that 
 arises out of this, that boys to purchase a shirt or a 
 pair of trousers, and girls to obtain frocks and under 
 garments, bring all the money they can get, even 
 their farthings, and at the present time there are 
 not less than 108 different garments being paid for 
 
PROGRESS MADE. 15 1 
 
 by as many scholars. The privilege is confined to 
 the young people actually attending the school, and 
 the plan is found to be much better than that of 
 giving the clothes. The small shop-keepers in this 
 district who sell sweetmeats, now complain that the 
 scholars spend no more money with them." 
 
 It ordinarily took no very short period to complete a 
 purchase, and not a little glad were the poor urchins if 
 by any unexpected good fortune it was hastened. One 
 boy had given his name for a shirt and paid towards 
 it a penny, and there stopped for some time ; one 
 day, at length, as he entered the school-room, he ex- 
 claimed, " Here is sixpence ; that is ALL for my shirt, 
 qgd will pay for it." " How did you get the six- 
 pence ?" said Mr. Miller. " A gentleman asked me 
 to hold his horse, sir ; I did so a good while ; and 
 when he came out he could not find any halfpence, 
 so he said, 'Never mind, here is a sixpence for you,' 
 and drove off. So it was a slice of good luck for 
 me, sir." 
 
 Within six months there was paid by them into the 
 school fund, for garments, the sum of l 10s., which 
 would have been spent in useless and hurtful trash. 
 
 " I just add," says Mr. Miller, " that seventy-three 
 of the scholars have purchased bibles, most of which 
 havo been paid for by farthing subscriptions, and 
 eighty-four have paid for their own copy-books." 
 
 An attempt had been made also, at an early period 
 in the existence of the school, to teach them scientifi- 
 cally to sing. One evening of each week was ap- 
 
152 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 propriated to this purpose, and lessons were given, 
 and exercises conducted, on Mr. Hullah's system, 
 under the superintendence of an efficient master ; 
 and it is surprising what progress these rude, untu- 
 tored, barbarian youths, who seemed to have no 
 " music in their souls," made in this pleasing, puri- 
 fying, and ennobling art. It was delightful to wit- 
 ness the manner in which they chanted various por- 
 tions of the Church Service : it would not have dis- 
 graced the orchestra of the proud cathedral-pile of 
 the world's metropolis. 
 
 It was one of the objects contemplated by ?.Ir. 
 Miller and his friends in the formation and manage- 
 ment of this school, to promote the introduction of jy 
 scholars received into it who behaved themseWs 
 well into situations in which they might honoflridy 
 support themselves. This object to some extent wfc 
 accomplished, and very gratifying was the evidence 
 supplied, by the way in which the -Jouths filled 
 those situations, of the efficiency and excellence of 
 the institution in which they had been o generous- 
 ly taught. A- lady who, on visiting the school, was 
 led to take two of the girls into her service, kindly 
 engaging to give them, for their encouragement, each 
 6 per annum, afterwards wrote to a member of the 
 committee the following pleasing testimony of? their 
 worth : 
 
 " MY DEAR SIR, I have much pleasure in inform: 
 that the two girls I took as servants from the Broadwall 
 Raggsd School are going on very well. Their willingness 
 
SATISFACTORY RESULTS. 153 
 
 and anxiety to oblige more than compensate for any ineffi- 
 ciency in their work, and I prefer them much to the gene- 
 rality of servants to bo had in the usual way. I have not 
 detected (hem in any falsehood, and there is a willingness to 
 attend divine worship which I am much pleased with. 
 ' I remain, dear sir, 
 
 u Yours very truly, 
 
 "To Lieut. Blackman, R.N." 
 
 Thus were his fondest anticipations, in connection 
 with this great undertaking, more than realized ; 
 and affecting demonstration was given of the sound- 
 ness of those views in which it had originated, and 
 which .are so truthfully and beautifully expressed in 
 lh<> lines of Louisa Stuart Costello, on " Ragged 
 lMfc)ols," a copy of which was found treasured up 
 among his select papers. 
 
 " In the depth of a forest, dreary and dark, 
 The traveller welcomes the glimmering spark 
 
 Mls l|im press onward thrpugh labyrinths dim, 
 Hope, in the vista, is shining for him. 
 fis robe may be miry, his sandals be torn, 
 His aspect be haggard, his features be worn, 
 And some at his bearing may start in araaze ; 
 And fear to approach him, and shudder to gaze ; 
 But tend him, and nurse him, the future will show, 
 In the travel!^ rescued, nor brigand nor foe. 
 Twas but toil and fatigue that had clouded his brow, 
 Still the ligflt was within, and shines brilliantly now. 
 
 ry's world there are beings who stray, 
 With no beacon to cheer and encourage their way; 
 They are squalid, unnurtured, despised, and forlorn, 
 And thepolish'd pass by them with loathing and sconi. 
 
154 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 But let the door open, and welcome them in, 
 Let the work of their rescue from evil begin : 
 Be they taught; be they fed, and a gleam will yet shine 
 To prove in their nature a part is divine. 
 The torch may bcturn'd towards earth, but the flame 
 Rises ever to heaven for from heaven it eaiue." 
 
 Very much against liis own wish, his oldest boys 
 made choice of a sea-faring life. Unable to prevent 
 this, he sought to turn it to the account of his use- 
 fulness. Availing himself of their agency, ho 
 endeavored, through religious tracts, to diffuse tho 
 knowledge and influence of the gospel on the seas, 
 and learned from his eldest son that, on a foreign 
 shore, English seamen would receive and read Eng- 
 lish tracts with the utmost avidity. On Thursday, 
 19th February, 1S4G, going on board the ship in 
 which Robert, his second son, was to sail, lie was 
 invited by the captain to tea with him. <; In the 
 cabin," says he, " I found three other captains, 
 whose ships lay alongside. After tea they proposed 
 a hand of cards. At first I was at a stand what to 
 do, whether to retire or to protest against the prac- 
 tice. I resolved on the latter, and succeeded in get- 
 ting them into a conversation on religious subjects. 
 Card-playing was a principal topic ; I expatiated at 
 length on the evil of this practice. One of them, 
 in a very triumphant manner, said he supposed I 
 did not know how to play, and that that was my 
 way of getting out of it. I said, ' My friend, I am 
 sorry to say, if I were disposed to play, I should bo 
 
EVILS OF CARD-PLAYING. 155 
 
 man enough to play you a hand at any game you 
 might choose ; but I have a better card to play, and 
 I should be glad if you would join me.' I continued 
 to speak of the evil of the practice, when one of the 
 captains said, ' Mr. Miller, you are a stranger to me, 
 but you might have known my history. I have 
 been twenty-two years captain, and had, after bring- 
 ing up my mother's family and supporting one of my 
 own, saved 300. But I began about two years 
 ago to keep company and play at cards, and now, if 
 I were to die this night, I have not a shilling to 
 leave my wife and children, and it has all gone in 
 this way ; and the other day, when I read a tract 
 given to my mate by your boy, I thought I should 
 have gone out of my mind.' At this statement, 
 made with much feeling, the other captains seemed 
 deeply moved ; arid shortly after they said to me 
 
 that they always looked upon Captain C as a 
 
 man of considerable properly. They all accom- 
 panied rne ashore, and, on taking leave of me, prom- 
 ised me they would abandon card-playing, read 
 their Bibles, and attend a place of worship when 
 th'-y could. I promised regularly to supply them 
 with suitable tracts for their ships, and subsequently 
 obtained a grant of ten shillings' worth from the 
 Religious Tract Society for immediate use amongst 
 them." He afterwards visited the vessel several 
 times when it was in the Thames, distributing reli- 
 gious tracts, and conversing with the crew, and ulti- 
 mately established in it a loan library, obtained by 
 
ROGER MILLER. 
 
 him as a grant from the Religious Tract Society. 
 Through this he also got on board the rest of the 
 vessels in. the same trade, of which theic were seven, 
 and, besides circulating numerous tracts from time 
 to time, established in each of them a similar lib: 
 
 In the course of his labors, he sometimes met 
 with instances of ignorance concerning sacred things, 
 such as would hardly be credible to those who are 
 accustomed to look upon society only in its brighter 
 and better aspects, and was the means of leading its 
 unhappy subjects to that knowledge which is " life 
 eternal." Such was the case in reference to Mary 
 
 S . She was a young woman of about eighteen, 
 
 of some personal beauty, and, generally, of a very 
 prepossessing appearance. " When," says Mr. Mil- 
 ler, " I first called upon the family to which she 
 belonged, I found her in a bad state of health, and, 
 as I thought, not likely to get better. I soon dis- 
 covered she had not been in a place of worship for 
 many years. She was a quick-minded person, and 
 in some matters rather intelligent, but was so igno- 
 rant as to religion that she was wholly unacquainted 
 with the name of Jesus Christ, except as a bye- 
 word and as it is used in bad language. She knew 
 nothing of the history or character of the Saviour, 
 or that there was anything sacred connected with 
 his name. I read a portion of the word of God to 
 her. She said she had never heard it before, and 
 had never before heard anything read out of that 
 book, and that such things as it contains were never 
 
GRATITUDE OF A CONVERT. 157 
 
 talked of iu their family. I felt much affected with 
 her case, tor she was iii many respects an interesting 
 young woman. I gave her a Bible ; she read it 
 with great attention, and drank deeply of its inte- 
 resting contents." He also personally visited and 
 instructed her with great care arid assiduity during 
 the period of her sickness, expounding to her the 
 Scriptures, and teaching her " the way of the Lord 
 more perfectly." She soon carne to look upon him 
 as her best earthly friend, and to give the most 
 earnest attention to the things she heard from him 
 from time to time. " On the first day of her getting 
 out," says Mr. Miller, " which was Sunday, she 
 went to Surrey Chapel, and was much delighted 
 with the service, and there she continued to attend 
 regularly from Sabbath to Sabbath, till she returned 
 to the situation she had left on account of her ill- 
 ness. Before returning, she called at my house, 
 thanked me warmly for all I had done for her, and 
 said she hoped I would pardon her, if she should 
 call upon me at any time when she might be at 
 home. I warned her of the temptations to which 
 she would be exposed, supplied her with a select 
 packet of tracts, arid commended her to God in. 
 prayer. She has since called upon me twice, arid I 
 am pleased to find, that though she has much to 
 contend with, both from the family she lives in, 
 arid her fellow-servants in the house, she continues 
 steadily to attend New St. Pancras' Church, and to 
 hold fast her Christian profession." 
 
158 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 It was about this time a case came full under his 
 notice of the most revolting character, but which 
 occasioned an interesting" display of his characteristic 
 benevolence, courage, fortitude, and strength. 
 
 "Mr. is a cabinet-maker, a good workman, 
 
 and might always be employed, but is, together 
 with his wife, an abandoned and notorious drunkard. 
 He is, in consequence, so ragged and filthy in his 
 person, that hardly any master will have him on 
 his premises. His wife is like himself. She is 
 commonly sitting, when at home, in one corner of 
 the fire-place. The floor of the room, which is 
 never washed, is covered with a thick coat of the 
 most offensive filth, and the children, of whom there 
 are five, the day long play in a state of nakedness 
 about it. I have visited them for two years. I 
 have often read to them the word of God, but have 
 encountered from them much opposition. In June 
 last, as my wife was in the act of locking the street 
 door, before retiring to rest, she heard repeated cries 
 of ' Murder,* from a boy, who seemed to be almost 
 mad with fear. She opened the door and inquired 
 for the cause. ' Oh ! Mrs. Miller,' exclaimed he, 
 ' my father has killed my mother he has split her 
 head open.' 
 
 On hearing this, I put on my coat and hat, and 
 hastened to the spot. I found all the people up and 
 at their doors, and the policeman at the top of the 
 place, dreading to go down alone, and absolutely re- 
 fusing to do so, until some other officer should come 
 
REVOLTING SCENE. 159 
 
 to accompany him. I went down to the house and, 
 
 on entering the room, saw Mrs. in a state of 
 
 nudity from head to foot, and covered with blood. 
 The other four children were running- wildly to and 
 fro in the room. Finding she was able to pace the 
 room, I immediately withdrew from the revolting 
 scene. In vain did I ask any of the women living 
 in the adjoining house to go into her. ' She may 
 
 die,' said they, ' and be d ,' and so refused to 
 
 go. I returned home. I found my wife at the 
 door, anxiously waiting to see me come out of the 
 court in safety ; as I was telling her of the case Mr. 
 
 passed, in company with a prostitute and two 
 
 young thieves, all of whom I knew well. I said, 
 
 ' Mr. , why don't you go home, and try to make 
 
 matters all right with the old woman, and not go on 
 in this way ?' He said, ' My wife is mad, and not 
 fit to live.' I replied, ' But that is no reason why 
 you should be her executioner ; come along with me, 
 and see what is to be done.' To this he said, ' Well, 
 I'll go, if you'll go with me ; but I won't go alone.' 
 ' Come, then,' I said, and together we went. All 
 this time, the policeman had stood at the entrance of 
 the place. The moment the infuriated woman saw us 
 enter the room, she sprang forward, intending to 
 seize her husband ; but he, being aware of her, step- 
 ped out of the room in an instant, when she seized 
 me by the collar of the coat with both hands, de- 
 claring she would have my heart out before I left. 
 The blood was streaming from her head profusely, 
 
160 ROGER, MILLER. 
 
 and I must say I began to be somewhat alarmed, 
 for by this time she had become so infuriated, that 
 she knew no one. But at this moment, throe of the 
 most abandoned women got into the room and forced 
 her from me ; while two others pushed me into 
 another room on the same floor, and I thus escaped 
 unhurt. On returning home I went to bed, but not 
 to sleep ; for as I lay, I thought of the state of the 
 poor creatures, and how that Sabbath-day would be 
 spent, that had been thus begun. I could not help 
 weeping for the sins of my wretched neighbors. On 
 the following morning, before going to my place of 
 worship, I went to see them ; I could not rest con- 
 tent until I had discharged this duty. I looked on 
 them as objects of pity, and felt that it is only by the 
 grace of God that I am made to differ. The wretch- 
 ed woman was up, and when she saw me come into 
 the room, she turned her head away from me, for 
 she was ashamed to look me in the face. I said, 
 * How are you this morning ? I was truly sorry to 
 see you in such a state a few hours since.' She said, 
 4 Mr. Miller, I am ashamed to look at you. I am 
 ashamed of myself. I never could have thought that 
 you would have come here again, and so soon too.' 
 I said, * My friend, the reason I carr.e is because I 
 pity you, and would gladly do anything I could to 
 bring you to a better state. Pray tell me how did 
 you get; the wound in your head ?' She said, ' My 
 husband did it by throwing a ginger-beer bottle at 
 me, in which we had some rum he brought home. 
 
DOMESTIC CALAMITIES. 161 
 
 He had been at work all the week, and we quarrelled 
 because he would not give me any money for food, 
 which neither I nor the children had tasted all day. 
 This, and the wound in my head, probably were the 
 causes of the ruru having such an effect upon me ; 
 and what, again, made me worse, was that I saw 
 
 he was going with and , and you know 
 
 what they are.' During all this time the husband 
 lay asleep on a few dirty shavings, in a corner of 
 the room." This family afterwards removed to 
 some other locality, and were lost sight of. We 
 know not, therefore, what may have been the results 
 of his labors in their case. 
 
 During the latter part of the present year, he was 
 again visited with a long succession of painful do- 
 mestic afflictions. For three months, his wife was 
 compelled by indisposition, to reside at a distance in 
 the country ; and on returning home, was confined 
 to her bed three weeks with typhus fever, which had 
 been brought home by him after visiting three cases 
 of this disease in succesoiori. Before he was well 
 clear of this, another, and a sorer trouble befel him. 
 His second son, Robert, who, through his own ear- 
 nest wish, long persisted in, notwithstanding every 
 effort to induce him to abandon it, had been appren- 
 ticed to the sea, was, together with the vessel and 
 crew to which he belonged, lost. Mr. Miller's own 
 account of this sad event is affecting. " The last 
 time the ' Beaufrmt' (for that was the name of 
 the vessel) was in. I was on board twice and dined 
 
 11 
 
162 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 with the captain. He spoke of my boy in very 
 pleasing terms, not only for his attention to his duty. 
 in the vessel, but also his conduct generally ; that it 
 was marked by all on board, who sometime^ on ac- 
 count of this, ridiculed him as a Methodist. This 
 inspired my heart with the hope that the many 
 prayers I had offered on his behalf Avert- being 
 answered. I bid my dear boy farewell, but little 
 thought it was for the last time. It was then Oc- 
 tober, and our hope was that he would return in 
 time again to spend his Christmas-day with us. In 
 due time they sailed from Newcastle for London, in 
 company with another vessel of the same firm. But 
 a storm came on and the two ships parted. The 
 Beaufront being a larger vessel, went out to sea, 
 where she must have sunk with every soul on board, 
 and amongst them my dear boy. Alas ! alas ! this 
 is a severe trial for me a dark and mysterious dis- 
 pensation. But, Lord, thou hast said, ' What I 
 do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know here- 
 after ;' and I would say, ' The Lord gave and the 
 Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the 
 Lord.' " 
 
 He continued, with great firmness and vigor, to 
 perform his peaceful labors amidst all his afflictions, 
 and to be honored to snatch from ruin many of the 
 
 hapless objects of his care. Emma was a fine 
 
 sharp-looking girl, of but sixteen years of age. She 
 had been brought up in a Sunday-school, but. alas ' 
 had fallen a prey to temptation, and gone with those 
 
SELF-DESTRUCTION PREVENTED. 163 
 
 " whose feet go down to death, whose steps take 
 hold of hell." She had been on the streets but four- 
 teen days, when far from being satisfied with such a 
 life of drunkenness and debauchery, she had become 
 intensely disgusted with it, and was overwhelmed 
 with remorse and misery for her present conduct. 
 Unable to continue in it longer, and yet seeing no 
 way of escape, she was seriously contemplating self- 
 destruction. It was a solemn crisis in her history, 
 and Providence interposed for her rescue. By what 
 seemed accident she met with one of her companions 
 in vice and shame, to whom she opened her mind. 
 " Go to Mr. Miller, then, the Missionary of Broad- 
 wall," said the other unhappy creature, " if you 
 don't like the streets ; he'll do all he can to get you 
 into a penitentiary." This was just what she wanted. 
 Hope dawned upon her darkened spirit. She instantly 
 felt assured it was the way of escape, and according- 
 ly went to his house the same day. " Having," says 
 Mr. Miller, " obtained all needful information, I pro- 
 vided her a lodging, and then made my way to her 
 parents. I found them to be respectable people. 
 They kept a laundry, and said that the girl being 
 fully competent to the work, was of great service to 
 them. The mother agreed with me that it would 
 be best for her to go into an asylum, but appointed 
 a time when she would come to my house and see 
 her child. She accordingly came, and after some 
 preliminary conversation I sent for Emma, who was 
 ignorant of her mother's being there. She came 
 
164 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 into the parlor, and the scene which then presented 
 itself was one of the most affecting I ever witnessed. 
 Hard indeed a very stone, must be that heart that 
 could have gazed upon it unmoved. We left them 
 alone together for a short time, after which I re-en- 
 tered the room, and proposed we should all kneel to- 
 gether in prayer, and seek the divine guidance and 
 blessing in reference to the course that should be 
 taken. Immediately all united in prayer. It was 
 a solemn and touching season. In a few days she 
 was sent, through the Southwark Female Minion, 
 to the London Penitentiary, where she conducted 
 herself well." She corresponded occasionally with 
 Mr. Miller, and always expressed the most lively 
 gratitude for his kindness in rescuing her from shame 
 and ruin. At the end of six months she left the 
 asylum, but continued to visit Mr. Miller, and, at last, 
 became the wife of a respectable green-grocer. 
 % Allusion has been made to his deepfelt sympathy 
 with the temporal suffer ings of the poor around him, 
 and his efforts for their relief and rescue. Every 
 day brought occasion for the exercise of these, and 
 called forth some fresh design. In December of this 
 year, some saw-mills in his district caught fire, aiul 
 conveyed it to the cottages of four poor families liv- 
 ing near. A number of men, under pretence of 
 saving their goods, entered their cottages, and plun- 
 dered or destroyed almost the whole of them. Mr. 
 Miller having first mentioned the matter to Lord 
 Ashley, and obtained a handsome subscription from 
 
SYMPATHY WITH TEMPORAL SUFFERING. 165 
 
 that nobleman, proceeded to draw up an appeal to 
 the wealthy families around, and soon succeeded in 
 replacing the goods of these plundered poor, and in 
 scattering gladness again over their darkened homes 
 and hearts. 
 
 " Poor, yet making many rich," is a Christian 
 paradox that was strikingly exemplified in him, and 
 the blessings of many that had been " ready to per- 
 ish" came upon him. Mr. B was a tall and 
 
 fine-looking man, of nearly seventy years of age. He 
 was found, with his wife, by Mr. Miller, in circum- 
 stances of great temporal privation, and extreme 
 spiritual darkness and insensibility ; " without God, 
 and having no hope in the world." Both were af- 
 terwards led, through his assiduous and persevering 
 labors, to a saving and satisfying acquaintance with 
 Christ, and introduced to the fellowship of Christian 
 
 believers at Surrey Chapel. Mr. B was also 
 
 provided by Mr. Miller with a truck, and furnished 
 with a quantity of firewood, with which to enter 
 into business ; and earned for himself and aged wife 
 a comfortable maintenance. He was subsequently 
 taken into the service of the excellent Messrs. Har- 
 ris & Co., of Broadwall, as a watchman, and acquit- 
 ted himself with great satisfaction to them. He re- 
 garded Mr. Miller as his best earthly "riend, and 
 was accustomed to look to him for counsel on every 
 occasion. "I am old enough," said he, " to be your 
 father ; but you, rather, are a father to me, and 
 more than a father." Towards the close of the pres- 
 
166 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 ent year, 1S4G, Mr. B was visited with severe 
 
 personal affliction, which increased rapidly, till it 
 terminated in death. "I visited him," says Mr. 
 Miller, " on the third day after the attack. He said, 
 'My dear friend, I know I shall not get better of 
 this bout ; you have been a kind friend to me for 
 between five and six years, do not now leave me for 
 a single day, for I shall not be long here, and I don't 
 want to have anything in my ears but the word of 
 God. Oh ! what a mercy it is that I should have 
 been permitted to hear of the way of salvation for 
 poor sinners !' I had previously visited him, daily, 
 but after this I did so twice each day ; and when 
 his sight was gone, he would say, as he heard my 
 footsteps in the room, ' Is that Mr. Miller ?' He was 
 favored with great peace through believing. His 
 favorite portion of Scripture was the eighth chapter 
 of Ilomans. He died rejoicing in the Lord as his 
 rock and his strength, and was interred at the ex- 
 pense of his excellent masters. Before the funeral 
 left the house, I visited the family, addressed them 
 on a portion of Scripture suitable to the occasion, 
 and engaged with them in prayer. This exercise 
 was very solemn, and productive of good to a son- 
 in-law, whom I have since been called to visit." 
 
 In the midst of these benevolent and useful labors, 
 he received the mournful intelligence of his mother's 
 death. From the time he became the subject of 
 religion, he had exerted himself to promote her 
 spiritual welfare. With a view to this object, he 
 
SUMMONED TO HIS MOTHER'S FUNERAL. 167 
 
 had kept up a frequent correspondence with her. 
 Although there does not appear decisive evidence 
 of her conversion to God, yet there is some reason to 
 hope concerning her. In a letter addressed to him 
 by the Rev. S. Bo wen, of Macclesfield, that gentle- 
 man says, " Your good mother is not in Maccles- 
 field at present ; as long as she tarried here, she was 
 punctual in her attendance upon the means, 
 and, so far as I could see, conducted herself in every 
 way very becomingly." On receiving the sad tid- 
 ings of her death, he immediately resolved to hasten to 
 Manchester, the place where the melancholy event 
 had taken place, to render to her remains the last trib- 
 ute of filial reverence and love. It was on Saturday, 
 the 5th June. 1 M 7. He gathered his family around 
 him in domestic worship, read John xi., expatiating 
 with much feeling on different parts of the sadly- 
 pleasing narrative therein recorded, then for the last 
 time knelt with them in prayer. In devotion, prob- 
 ably from the peculiar circumstances of the time, 
 he was singularly copious, earnest, and solemn. How 
 affecting to those who were present is the memory 
 of that hour ! He then proceeded to fulfil an 
 engagement he had made with Lord Ashley, rela- 
 tive to the approaching meeting of the friends of his 
 ragged school, at which his lordship had promised 
 to preside, and to arrange some affairs affected by 
 his sudden call from London ; and in the evening 
 left by the mail train for Manchester. He was not, 
 however, permitted ever to see that town, or to ad- 
 
168 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 vance far upon the way. As the train approached 
 the Wolverton station, it was, through some remiss- 
 ness of one of the policemen, turned into a siding, 
 which threw it into a violent collision with the car- 
 riages there stationed. Mr. Miller and six other 
 passengers were killed upon the spot. 
 
 It is a remarkable and pleasing fact, stated by a 
 surviving fellow-passenger, that Mr. Miller arid the 
 party accompanying him in the same carriage had 
 agreed to close the day with devotion, and at the 
 time when the sudden and solemn event took place, 
 were actually engaged in singing the Evening 
 Hymn. How appropriate to that event are the 
 words of that hymn ! 
 
 " Teach me to live that I may dread 
 My grave as little as my bed : 
 Teach me to die, that so I may 
 Rise glorious at the judgment-day," <tc. 
 
 When searched, after death, his pockets were 
 found filled with papers containing plans of useful- 
 ness, and printed notices of the annual meeting of 
 his ragged school, which was to have taken place 
 the week following. His intention was to obtain 
 assistance for these during his absence in the coun- 
 try, and thus, in his case, is beautifully seen 
 
 " The ruling passion strong in death." 
 
 "Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when 
 he cometh, shall find so doing !" 
 
GRIEF AT HIS LOSS. 169 
 
 The report of his death went forth through the 
 whole community almost with the rapidity and force 
 of an electric shock. Among all classes it was felt 
 that a real and great public loss had been sustained. 
 This was especially the case with those who had 
 best known his works and worth. "We have 
 lost," exclaimed the Committee of the London City 
 Mission, "one of our very best missionaries. He 
 has been for seven years in the employ of the Mis- 
 sion ; never was there a more truly missionary 
 spirit possessed by any individual ; he was con- 
 stantly devising schemes of usefulness, and seemed 
 to live for other people rather than for himself." 
 Lord Ashley, who, with characteristic sagacity, mag- 
 nanimity, and generosity, had discerned and appre- 
 ciated his worth, notwithstanding his distance from 
 him in social position, and had fought with him 
 side by side in the great conflict against ignorance, 
 vice, and misery, gave repeated utterance to the 
 tenderest lamentations, reminding us of Judah's 
 generous and noble bard, when pouring forth his 
 sorrowful and beautiful elegies to the mountains of 
 Gilboa, where " the shield of the mighty had been 
 vilely cast away," and the form of his beloved Jona- 
 than, "the" beauty of Israel," had fallen a gory and 
 ghastly corpse. Resolutions were passed and for- 
 warded to his widow by the Committee of the Reli- 
 gious Tract Society and that of its auxiliary at Sur- 
 rey Chapel, and by the various schools with which 
 he was associated, expressive of their sense of his 
 
170 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 worth, and of the greatness of the loss which they, 
 and the public in general, as well as his family, had 
 sustained. Lord Ashley first, and afterwards the 
 Committee of the Mission, under the same feeling, 
 appealed to the Board of the North Western Rail- 
 way Company for compensation to his family, and 
 that Board, responsively to the feeling, voted a 
 handsome provision for his widow, and for the edu- 
 cation of his two older children ; while the public, 
 in a grateful sense of his value, adopted -the younger 
 ones, and speedily lodged them in those noble insti- 
 tutions, the public orphan schools of the metropolis. 
 Nor were the poor, degraded, and wretched people 
 for whom he had lived, insensible to the greatness 
 of the loss they had suffered. This was affectingly 
 shown, especially at the funeral, which took place 
 on Thursday, June 10. 
 
 As his remains were conveyed to Ken sail Green 
 Cemetery, the place selected for their reposal, a vast 
 concourse of people, from all parts of the neighbor- 
 hood, followed them, giving the most affecting ex- 
 pression of their deep grief. 
 
 "Living," said the Rev. John Branch, of Water- 
 loo Road Chapel, shortly after the event, " in the 
 neighborhood, I am constantly hearing the lamenta- 
 tions of the poor at this occurrence. Nor is this 
 feeling confined to pious individuals, or to those 
 alone who have been benefited by his visits. Even 
 the wicked and profligate seem to feel that they 
 have lost a friend. On the day of his funeral, many 
 
LAMENTATIONS OF THE POOR. 171 
 
 of the shops were partially closed in Broadwall. 
 Small domiciles, where the poor people sell firewood, 
 hearthstone, cats' meat, &c., had one or more shut- 
 ters up, and most of the private houses had the 
 shutters closed as a testimony of respect for their 
 departed friend. Groups of very poor people were 
 on that day seen at the corners of the streets lament- 
 ing their loss, some with tears. One poor Irish- 
 woman said, in my hearing-, ' God help me, what 
 shall I do now Mr. Miller is gone ! and sure he 
 wished us well.' On a subsequent occasion this 
 poor woman remarked to me, * I wish I had fol- 
 lowed his advice ; I have tried very hard sometimes. 
 Drink is my ruin. Mr. Miller was always at me 
 about drink. I thought, at one time, he would 
 have made a good job of me. I used to leave off 
 for three weeks at a time, but I went back again. 
 And now, Lord ! what shall I do ? Mr. Miller is 
 dead !' Here she wept bitterly. On my pressing 
 upon her attention the i'act, that her sin was ruinous 
 if persisted in, and that God would help her if she 
 sought his help, she replied, ' Ruinous ! did you say ? 
 You may say that. Everything is in pawn again, 
 and the children are nearly starved. I kept sober 
 until Mr. Miller was put under the turf, after I 
 heard he was dead. I could not do less, out of 
 respect for him. But now he is gone, it is all gone/ 
 On the day of the funeral, upon inquiring for the 
 house, a man said to me, ' Do you want Mr. Miller'e 
 house, sir ? it is further on.' ' Did you know Mr. 
 
172 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 Miller?' I inquired. 'Know him, sir? I should 
 think I ought,' was the reply. ' He was the man 
 who, under God, convinced me of my sin, and took 
 me to a place of worship.' I met another person 
 shortly afterwards, who told me that he was a 
 teacher in the ragged school, and had been brough* 
 to a saving acquaintance with the truth through 
 Mr. Miller's visits. Perhaps the most remarkable- 
 expression of attachment manifested by the poor, 
 was the numbers who followed the mournful proces- 
 sion in its way to the cemetery at Kensall Green. 
 Unfortunately for them, the course of the procession 
 from Broadwall was over Waterloo Bridge, at which 
 a toll of one halfpenny is demanded of every passen- 
 ger who passes over on foot ; and such was the 
 poverty of this humble but warm-hearted funeral 
 cortege, that numbers were obliged to return, when 
 they had accompanied the remains of their religious 
 instructor so far, not having sufficient to pay the 
 toll. I looked at them at this spot from the coach- 
 window, saw their tears, and heard their lamenta- 
 tions. 
 
 " It would occupy too large a space to attempt to 
 relate all I have heard at different times respecting 
 Mr. Miller's influence on the district ; but I cannot 
 help noticing the shock that was felt at the work- 
 house of St. Saviour's and Christ Church Union, 
 which he visited generally. One poor man told 
 me, that of all the troubles he had passed through, 
 and all the losses he had sustained and they were 
 
MISSED IN THE WARD OF THE SICK. 173 
 
 very many he had never suffered such a loss 
 before. ' Ah !' said a poor woman in the sick ward, 
 with whom I was reasoning concerning the extent 
 and consequent impropriety of her grief as a follower 
 of Christ, ' you don't know, sir, how great our loss 
 is. If God's people lose their pastor and that is a 
 great loss they can go to another ; but I can 
 scarcely leave my bed, and Mr. Miller CAME to us. 
 How some of us have reckoned the time until he 
 arrived ! Oh, pray that I may be enabled to reckon 
 this among the " all things that work together for 
 good." ' 
 
 " On entering a court in Broadwall, to visit a poor 
 man one day, a short time since, there was a sad 
 disturbance. Some of the people were quarrelling 
 and fighting, and a group of persons were standing 
 at the entrance of the court, to whom I observed, 
 ' This is sad work.' ' Yes, sir,' replied one of the 
 men, ' we want poor Mr. Miller here again. He 
 used to quiet us.' Nor were his visits valued alone 
 by the very poor. The poor, in general, in this part, 
 seem to feel that they have lost a friend, who con- 
 stantly had their best interests at heart, and one who 
 was ever ready to serve them." 
 
 A large body of his missionary brethren followed 
 him to the grave, arid an impressive address was 
 delivered by the Rev. John Robinson, one of the 
 General Secretaries to the City Mission. On the 
 evening of the following Sabbath, a funeral sermon 
 was preached by his pastor, the Rev, James Sher- 
 
ROGER MILLER. 
 
 man, at Surrey Chapel, when the doors were crowd- 
 ed by multitudes of the poor, who eagerly sought to 
 hear the last of him who, in life and death, had heen 
 their faithful, their devoted friend. 
 
 The character of Mr. Miller is sufficiently evident 
 from the foregoing pages. A few lines will compose 
 his portrait. Though uneducated, he was in no de- 
 gree coarse ; though unlettered, ho was not scantily 
 endowed with mental gifts. His understanding was 
 vigorous, and distinguished for strong common sense. 
 On all practical questions his mind was prompt and 
 powerful in operation, and his views clear, sound, 
 and comprehensive. He had real piety, but it dis- 
 covered itself chiefly in action. His great charac- 
 teristics were simple, disinterested, and generous 
 kindness of heart, and unconquerable energy and 
 firmness of will. There was sometimes an appear- 
 ance of egotism, but this is only what ordinarily at- 
 tends an earnest spirit and powerful will, and is per- 
 haps, in some degree, inseparable from these. Tak- 
 ing him all in all, he was a line sample of sanctified 
 humanity, and of missionary piety and philanthropy. 
 And in him is verified most fully and forcibly the 
 beautiful language of Lord Brougham : " Resting 
 from his labors, he bequeathed his memory to the gen- 
 eration whom his works have blessed, and sleeps 
 under the humble but not inglorious epitaph com- 
 memorating one in whom mankind lost a friend, and 
 no man got rid of an enemy." 
 
IN closing these brief Memoirs, a variety of im- 
 portant reflections are suggested : a few only shall 
 be mentioned. The first has reference to the condi- 
 tion of our metropolitan population. We have had 
 some painful glimpses of the state of the people 
 among whom Mr. Miller labored ; these glimpses, 
 however, but very faintly and imperfectly reveal to 
 us the depth and extent of the mental, moral, and 
 physical debasement and misery and the social dis- 
 order in which they exist. Yet it is a melancholy 
 fact, that in this respect it is by no means worse 
 than that of a very large proportion of the popula- 
 tion of London ; in fact, it is far from being as bad. 
 Without subscribing to all the inferences invidiously 
 drawn from it by a fierce French orator, or seeing in 
 it, as he professes to do, the dark and sure prognos- 
 tic of England's approaching downfall, we must 
 nevertheless acknowledge that th condition of a 
 large proportion of the population of our great metrop- 
 olis is in all respects most appalling. It is high 
 time that public attention should be most earnestly 
 directed to this state of things, and every effort put 
 forth for its immediate and universal amelioration. 
 
176 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 Another reflection arising out of this brief recital 
 has relation to the true remedy for their condition. 
 Enlightened and sound legislation, practical science, 
 secular education, sanitary regulations, and improved 
 physical circumstances generally, may accomplish 
 much, and should by all means be applied to the 
 utmost. Moral means may achieve still more. The 
 temperance movement, in particular, strikes at the 
 root of the great mass of moral and social disorders 
 that prevail among us, and it will be a bright omen 
 of approaching good to society and to men, when the 
 influential classes of the country shall throw them- 
 selves heart and hand into that sublime enterprise. 
 But these alone will not expel the great plague. It 
 proceeds from a cause that lies too deep for them to 
 reach arid control. From within, "out of the heart, 
 proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, theft, 
 covetousness, murders, and such like." These arc 
 the streams that desolate society ; the lava waves 
 that burn up in it all that is lovely and blest. In 
 nine cases out of ten, these are the causes, more or 
 less directly, of all outward suffering ; and there can 
 be no removal of the great moral, social, and physi- 
 cal malady till it is traced to this its true source, and is 
 combated by means that will grapple effectually with 
 it here. On the other hand, whatever avails to rec- 
 tify the depravity of the spirit, avails also, sooner or 
 later, to heal almost every other disorder. t; This, 
 sir, is no place to serve God in," said a poor v. 
 residing in one of the lodging-houses of the ^iint, 
 
THOUGHTS. 177 
 
 when brought under the power of religion ; and im- 
 mediately she removed into a better locality, and 
 sought improved outward circumstances. Such is 
 the uniform effect of the recovery of the spirit to re- 
 ligion and to virtue. But this recovery no merely 
 human means can effect. It is the peculiar work of 
 " the glorious gospel of the blessed God." This is 
 the divine remedy. Not only is it the power of God 
 to salvation, to them that believe, both Jew and 
 Greek, but also it is fitted to command belief. 
 " Faith cometh by hearing." This the facts record- 
 ed in the above short narrative fully prove. Mr. 
 Miller himself is a remarkable instance of rescue, 
 from what might have seemed a hopeless depth of 
 moral debasement and misery, and the sufficiency 
 of the gospel as a means of spiritual renovation. And 
 almost all the cases recorded in it arc additional in- 
 stances of this. Nor were it difficult to increase 
 their number a thousand-fold. There was a woman, 
 the wife of a gentleman of eminence a woman who 
 had sunk into habits of the grossest vice, and ap- 
 peared to have gone beyond the possibility of recov- 
 ery. For some reason she had been taken up by 
 the police and lodged in a station-house ; while here, 
 she extracted the steel busk from her stays, and 
 breaking it into halves, succeeded with their ragged 
 ends in severing some of the arteries of her body. 
 She then leaned over the rails, in the hope she would 
 bleed to death, but having fainted, her noise attract- 
 ed the attention of the other prisoners, who hastened 
 12 
 
178 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 to her help. Medical aid was procured, and her 
 wounds bound up. Again she meditated removing 
 her bandages, tearing up her wounds, and renewing 
 the fatal process of draining her body of the vital 
 current. A missionary visited her at this juncture, 
 and read to her from the word of God the marvel- 
 lous and soul-subduing text, " God so loved the 
 world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that who- 
 soever believeth in him should not perish, but have 
 everlasting life ;" and asking the policeman to kneel 
 with him, prayed to God in her behalf. " Is it pos- 
 sible," thought she, " that this stranger can pray for 
 me, that he has sought and found me just when, for 
 the second time, I meditated my own destruction ?" 
 From that time she became a perfectly new charac- 
 ter. She returned to her home, which she has ever 
 since adorned and blessed. She is now a member 
 of a Christian church, and is exemplary both as a 
 mother and a wife. 
 
 And no marvel. There is a singular, a divine 
 adaptation in the gospel thus applied, to meet tho 
 deep-felt wants of a fallen spirit, to command its 
 sympathies, its confidence, and its love ; to awaken 
 its loftiest aspirations and its hopes, to quicken its 
 palsied susceptibilities and energies, and raise it from 
 helpless prostration to moral uprightness, majesty, 
 and strength. It has, accordingly, ever been the 
 glory of Christianity that it has gone down with its 
 warm and living sympathies to the deepest abysses 
 of human darkness, debasement, and sorrow, brought 
 
THOUGHTS. 179 
 
 up thence the spirits that seemed to have sunk 
 furthest from the sphere of help and hope, and re- 
 animated them, when ready to perish, with new and 
 immortal life that it has rushed to the rescue of 
 the most helplessly enthralled, and achieved its 
 grandest triumphs where every other agency had 
 failed, and every human hope had perished. 
 
 Another thought, suggested by what has passed 
 before us, is the necessity cf tliorough systematic 
 domiciliary visitation for the dissemination of the 
 influences of Christianity. The great bulk of our 
 metropolitan population never enter a Protestant 
 place of worship, or come within reach of the public 
 ministrations of our sanctuaries. Some are so igno- 
 rant as to have no idea of the use and purpose of 
 these. A house was visited in Waterloo Road, 
 where, in one room, were assembled a great-grand- 
 father, a grandmother, two grandchildren, and four 
 great-grandchildren. Not one knew anything of 
 letters, nor anything of Christ, and all were so utter- 
 ly ignorant of everything pertaining to religion, that 
 when the visitor knelt down for prayer, they all 
 burst into a laugh at the strangeness of his posture, 
 repeatedly stopped him with inquiries of the simplest 
 kind imaginable, and then, on his rising, wonderingly 
 said, " Be we all to get up ?" Another wretched 
 woman, who had attended an Irishman in Maryle- 
 bone during his last moments, and at his earnest re- 
 quest had sent for the clergyman of the parish, and 
 but a short time before he expired, had obtained for 
 
180 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 him the administration of the Lord's Supper, said 
 to a missionary who called in just after his spirit 
 Jaad fled, " I am afraid it was not done quite prop- 
 erly, for," raising the dead man's iip, " you see he 
 couldn't get the bread down ; do you think it is all 
 right?" 
 
 And those who are better taught are in general 
 too far fallen to have any desire or esteem for the 
 public services of the sanctuary. Vast numbers, 
 also, are utterly unable, from their condition and 
 circumstances, ever to show themselves there, how- 
 ever disposed, or indeed to emerge by daylight from 
 the dark retreats where they hide themselves with 
 their misery and shame. Hundreds of females, in 
 the very prime of life, labor day and night, and for 
 seven days in the week, without being able to do 
 more than keep body and soul together. For the 
 making of a shirt, which costs them at least a long 
 half-day's closest application, they receive seven or 
 five farthings. At this wearying task they toil till 
 their forefingers are often completely ploughed up, 
 and the bitter tears start from their eyes ; and then, 
 when the task is finished, are not unfrequently sent 
 back without their money, because the blood from 
 their fingers has tinged the shirts. Rarely have they 
 more garments than suffice to cover their persons, 
 and hardly do they obtain what avails to support 
 existence. Often near mid-day, sitting down to the 
 first scanty meal of tea, without sugar, and of stale 
 and butterless bread ; and at the end of the day, 
 
THOUGHTS. 181 
 
 boiling up some weak remnant of coffee for the last. 
 Hundreds of tailors work, with their wives, day and 
 night to obtain an average wage of five to six shillings 
 per week. And the case is no better with many in 
 other departments of honorable labor. There was a 
 man, a native of the county of Essex, who had for- 
 merly occupied a respectable position as a shoemaker 
 at the West end of London. Through improvidence 
 and dissipation, he had fallen in his circumstances 
 by degrees, until at length he had settled in one of 
 the most miserable localities as " a translator" of 
 old boots and shoes into new ones. His miserable 
 room lay about a foot beneath the surface of the 
 ground. For a floor, he had only the bare earth, 
 with a few broken fragments here and there. The 
 walls on ever}' hand were black with smoke. The 
 only window was small ; many of the panes of glass 
 were broken, but their places were so supplied with 
 paper, that the objects within were hardly visible. 
 His own appearance was in keeping with that of his 
 room. His beard was long and dark, and his entire 
 person almost as black as his walls with smoke and 
 dirt. He could not, without difficulty, be recognized 
 in his dark hole as a living being. He had no body 
 linen of any kind, and had not worn any for more 
 than two years. In fact, a short fustian jacket, and 
 a pair of fustian trousers, both worn till they were 
 as smooth and thin as a piece of brown paper, con- 
 stituted the whole of his wardrobe. He had no bed, 
 and had not lain upon one for upwards of ten years. 
 
182 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 A wood-seated chair without a Lack on which he 
 sat to work, a large tea-tray, defaced and rusted, 
 which, resting on a massive stone, formed his stall ; 
 and another large stone, situated at the opposite 
 side of the hearth, for the accommodation of 
 any friends that might come to visit him, together 
 with an old coffee-kettle and a few broken pots, 
 formed his entire stock of household furniture. 
 During the day he labored in his honorable and 
 useful work of " translation," and when exhausted 
 at night, put his head in his hand, his elbow 
 on the hob, and slept. In these circumstances of 
 degradation and \vretchcdness, he uttered no com- 
 plaint, and insinuated no request to be relieved, for 
 he regarded them as a just retribution for his neglect 
 of former opportunities. He was fully alive to his 
 degradation, yet never sought to proclaim it to oth- 
 ers, or in any way to excite their sympathies. He 
 looked upon it as the hand of God. Often he thought 
 of public worship, but looked at himself as forever 
 cut off from attending it. This wretched man was 
 visited, instructed in the way of life, until it became 
 evident that he was a changed man. He was then 
 furnished with clothing sufficiently good to enable 
 him to appear in the house of God. He thenceforth 
 regularly attended thrice a-day, and has been for 
 three years a creditable member of the church at 
 Surrey Chapel. But for a systematic domiciliary 
 visitation, he must, humanly speaking, have been 
 left in darkness and lost in sin. And in this respect 
 
THOUGHTS. 183 
 
 there are thousands, and tens of thousands, in his 
 circumstances. By these, they are necessarily cut 
 off from the public means of religious instruction, and 
 must either have the gospel carried to them or per- 
 ish for lack of knowledge. 
 
 Another thought, suggested by this narrative, is 
 the value of lay agency in the exposition and appli- 
 cation of the remedy. Of this, the facts here re- 
 corded are demonstrative. And they are far from 
 standing alone. There are innumerable others 
 equally decisive. The religious history of our own 
 country, of America, of India, and Polynesia, are 
 crowded with them. Let the value of this agency 
 be reckoned by its actual usefulness in every land 
 where it has been employed, and whether viewed 
 among the red Indian population of the wilds of 
 North America, or the more refined and effeminate 
 millions that swarm on the sultry plains of Hindos- 
 tan, the rude islanders of the Southern Sea, or the 
 more civilized masses of the population of Britain, 
 everywhere it will be found to be immense. Evils 
 there are, undoubtedly, incidental to its use. But 
 they are not necessary, and the only proper effect of 
 the fact is, to call forth greater care and effort, well 
 and wisely to direct the mighty power. Here lies 
 the whole difficulty : The selection of the right 
 men men of real, simple, earnest piety and kind- 
 ness of sound understanding and practical charac- 
 ter, of activity, energy, and perseverance, and their 
 
184 ROGER MILLER. 
 
 judicious and effective direction. And surely, if it 
 t's thus valuable, it ought, especially in these event- 
 ful and solemn times, to be most diligently arid ex- 
 tensively applied. If an effective breakwater is to 
 be thrown up against the advancing tide of Popery 
 and superstition, and the thick darkness that already 
 covers the degraded millions of our city population 
 is to be rolled away, every agency must be invoked 
 and laboriously plied. " Blessed are ye that sow 
 beside all waters, and send forth thither the feet of 
 the ox and of the ass." 
 
 We gather, finally, from the facts that have 
 passed before us, how much may le done bt/ i/uli- 
 viduals of tlic humblest rank and least favorable 
 circumstances, through earnest philanthropy, holy 
 zeal, and consecrated energy. These were the great 
 characteristics of Mr. Miller, and these, humanly 
 speaking, the only sources of his success in the be- 
 nevolent and pious labors in which he was engaged. 
 And wherever these are found, similar results are 
 found in connection with them. Witness the life 
 of Thomas Cranfield, " the useful Christian," of Sa- 
 rah Martin, and a thousand others. There is, in 
 fact, no calculating the extent of good which any 
 individual may effect if but his heart be fully set upon 
 it, and there be thrown into it all his might. Were 
 every Christian thus to act, what oh, what might 
 be hoped to be achieved ! The salvation of God 
 would then break forth like the light of morning. 
 
THOUGHTS. 
 
 185 
 
 The darkness, superstition, vice, and disorders of 
 many generations would melt away as mist, and the 
 age come quickly on when earth, in all her dwell- 
 ings, would enjoy a continual Sabbath, and cele- 
 brate responsively to heaven a world-wide and a 
 lasting jubilee. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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