ey. The great aim of these services is educational. They are
intended to afford such an insight into the meaning and use of the Book
of Prayer, that the deaf and dumb may be enabled to join intelligently in
the public worship of the Church of England, and undoubtedly it is
desirable that the terrible sense of isolation so natural under the
circumstances should be got rid of, that the deaf and dumb should feel
that they are part and parcel of the universal Church. Nevertheless
there must be a deaf and dumb pulpit from which may flow the ever
fructifying stream of Christian truth--a pulpit which the deaf and dumb
may feel exists especially for them. Of this pulpit at present the Rev.
Samuel Smith is the most distinguished orator, and as you watch him,
though you cannot understand him, you cannot but wonder at his marvellous
skill. Evidently his heart is in his work; equally evident is it that he
has to complain of no wandering eyes. Every hearer is intent, many seem
really devout and find the privilege one not lightly to be esteemed. The
deep strain of the organ is not there, you miss the song of praise, you
hear no penitential chant. From no living tongue falls the sweet promise
of salvation and eternal life, from those sealed and silent lips escapes
no audible prayer. Yet we know that

"God reveals Himself in many ways,"

and that He may be met with even among the deaf and dumb.

A SUNDAY IN JAIL.

Most travellers by the Great Northern Railway must have been struck with
a feudal castle apparently, just what you might expect to see on the
Rhine, but certainly not such a building as you would look for in the
immediate vicinity of the Cattle Market and of Mr. Mark Wilks's
overflowing congregation. As you approach it, all around you are genteel
villas and desirable residences; the neighbourhood has an air of comfort
and respectability; the inhabitants seem substantial and well to do--in
short, to belong to the upper strata of that middle class which in our
land, at any rate since the last of the Barons fell on Barnet Common, has
been a powerful influence for good in England and all over the world.
You would scarce fancy that feudal castle, with its "jutty, frieze, and
coigne of vantage," was a jail, or that inside it there were shut up
between three and four hundred rogues and vagabonds, old and young, male
and female, who have outraged the laws of their country, and have been
sent there, if possible,