For instance, take the temptation which comes through the natural appetite, hunger. Here is a man who has been at a religious meeting, or received some good advice, or, perhaps, just come out of prison, with the memories of the hardships he has suffered fresh upon him, or the advice of the chaplain ringing in his ears. He has made up his mind to steal no more, but he has no means of earning a livelihood. He becomes hungry. What is he to do? A loaf of bread tempts him, or, more likely, a gold chain which he can turn into bread. An inward struggle commences, he tries to stick to his bargain, but the hunger goes on gnawing within, and it may be there is a wife and children hungry as well as himself; so he yields to the temptation, takes the chain, and in turn the policeman takes him.

Now this man does not want to do wrong, and still less does he want to go to prison. In a sincere, dreamy way he desires to be good, and if the path were easier for him he would probably walk in it.

Again, there is the appetite for drink. That man has no thought of sinning when he takes his first glass. Much less does he want to get drunk. He may have still a vivid recollection of the unpleasant consequences that followed his last spree, but the craving is on him; the public-house is there handy; his companions press him; he yields, and falls, and, perhaps, falls to rise no more.

We might amplify, but our Scheme proposes to take the poor slave right away from the public-houses, the drink, and the companions that allure him to it, and therefore we think the chances of reformation in him are far greater.

Then think of the great boon this Scheme will be to the children, bringing them out of the slums, wretched hovels, and filthy surroundings in which they are being reared for lives of abomination of every description, into the fields, amongst the green trees and cottage homes, where they can grow up with a chance of saving both body and soul.

Think again of the change this Scheme will make for these poor creatures from the depressing, demoralising surroundings, of the unsightly, filthy quarters in which they are huddled together, to the pure air and sights and sounds of the country. There is much talk about the beneficial influence of pictures, music and literature upon the multitudes. Money, like water, is being poured forth to supply such attractions in Museums, People's Palaces, and the like, for the edification and amelioration of the social condition of the masses. But "God made the country, man made the town," and if we take the people to the pictures of divine manufacture, that must be the superior plan.

Again, the Scheme is capable of illimitable application. The plaister can be made as large as the wound. The wound is certainly a very extensive one, and it seems at first sight almost ridiculous for any private enterprise to attempt dealing with it. Three millions of people, living in little short of perpetual misery have to be reached and rescued out of this terrible condition. But it can be done, and this Scheme will do it, if it is allowed a fair chance. Not all at once? True! It will take time, but it will begin to tell on the restering mass straight away. Within a measurable distance we ought to be able to take out of this black sea at least a hundred individuals a week, and there is no reason why this number should not go on increasing.

An appreciable impression on this gulf of misery would be immediately made, not only for those who are rescued from its dark waters, but for those who are left behind, seeing that for every hundred individuals removed, there is just the additional work which they performed for those who remain. It might not be much, but still it would soon count up. Supposing three carpenters are starving on employment which covered one-third of their time, if you take two away, the one left will have full employment. But it will be for the public to fix, by their contributions, the extent of our operations.