uint.

After one of his frequent absences in search of health, Parson Plaford
related with great gusto a real case of conversion. On one particular
morning a prisoner was released, who expressed sincere repentance for
his sins, and the chaplain's _locum tenens_ had written in the discharge
book that he believed it was "a real case of conversion to God." That
very morning, I found by comparing notes, also witnessed the release of
Mr. Kemp. All the parson-power of Holloway Gaol had failed to shake
his Freethought. _His_ conversion would have been a feather in the
chaplain's hat, but it could not be accomplished. The utmost that could
be achieved was the conversion of a Christian to Christianity.

On another occasion, Parson Plaford ingenuously illustrated the
character of prison conversions. An old hand, a well-known criminal who
had visited the establishment with wearisome frequency, was near his
discharge. He had an interview with the chaplain and begged assistance.
"Sir," he said, "I've told you I was converted before, and you helped
me. It wasn't true, I know; but I am really converted this time. God
knows it sir." But the chaplain would not be imposed upon again. He
declined to furnish the man with the assistance he solicited. "And
then," said the preacher, with tears in his voice, "he cursed and swore;
he called me the vilest names, which I should blush to repeat, and I had
to order him out of the room." "Oh," he continued, "it is an ungrateful
world. But holy scripture says that in the latter days unthankfulness
shall abound, and these things are signs that the end is approaching.
Blessed be God, some of us are ready to meet him." These lachrymose
utterances were the precursors of a long disquisition on his favorite
topic--the end of the world, the grand wind-up of the Lord's business.
We were duly initiated into the mysteries of prophecy, a subject which,
as South said, either finds a man cracked or leaves him so. The latter
days and the last days were accurately distinguished, and it was
obscurely hinted that we were within measurable distance of the flaming
catastrophe.

Over forty sermons fell from Parson Plaford's lips into my critical
ears, and I never detected a grain of sense in any of them. Nor could
I gather that he had read any other book than the Bible. Even that he
appeared to have read villainously, for he seemed ignorant of much of
its contents, and he told us many things that are not in it. He pla