in all its blood, the sooner I shall be there. And the passion for the monastic life became so dominant, that there was a very real danger in some regions of the overthrow of the whole order of society. Men set themselves in throngs to reduce to a minimum their earthly needs and activities, and to wear down the flesh by austerities and mortifications; careless wholly what became of the world and all its mundane interests, scorning them too much to care if they perished. Nor is this an oldworld question. Always there is this startling contrast between their condition and calling present with men. Always, like Peter, when they realise their sonship, the powers and prerogative of their calling of God in Christ, they want to walk on the water, and to emancipate themselves from the material conditions of their present. They are tempted to rage at the limitations of their condition, the narrow round, the common task, the petty cares, amid which they are doomed to spend their weary days. Always, until they open their minds and hearts to take in the doctrine of the spiritual sacredness of the secular calling, and to hear the word by which the great apostle, with far-sighted prescience of the way in which things were tending, settled both the spiritual and the secular life of men on firm foundations, "Brethren, let every man wherein he is called, therein abide with God." but one thing that is not of God in the world, and that is the heart which is set on worldly things, and which brings into the world death and all its attendant woes. The Lord lent no shadow of a countenance to the notion that things, places, and callings had in them the essence of evil. the essence of evil. Wherever a good man lives and works there is a shrine as holy as a sanctuary, though he feed on crusts and work in rags; wherever a bad man lives and works there is a sty foul as Hinnom and profane as Tophet, though he speak from a pulpit, bless from an altar, or rule from a throne. The Lord's forerunner, John the Baptist, "came, neither eating nor drinking." He was a man of distinctly ascetic temper and habit; and had his teaching been all that was to guide it, the world might easily have been led astray. But Christ came in striking contrast, a contrast to which He Himself calls our attention and thought, "eating and drinking," and mixing Himself freely with the busy life of His times. While John was in the deserts, He was in the workshop, acquainting Himself by experience with all the toils and burdens of a workman's lot. When He came out into the world it is at marriage feasts, at Pharisees' banquets, in the throng of the temple, in fishermen's boats, in country villages and in broad highways, that we find Him; not frowning upon but blessing the manifold, worldly activity of mankind. He not only took upon Him our nature and hallowed it, but he took on Him our lot, with all its petty cares, and mechanical occu The apostle in these words, with wonderful wisdom and foresight, lays down a principle which, rightly understood and seized in all its bearings, secures the higher develop-pation, and earthly needs. By His daily life ment of the social and political life of mankind. It is, as has been pointed out already, the principle of order; we shall find that it is the principle of progress too. But what are the underlying truths; on what bases does it rest? Fundamentally it rests on the Incarnation. Philosophy has struggled with the problem of evil, and has been well-nigh maddened by it. Is the root of it in the flesh, in the world, or in the earthly needs and occupations of man's life? And it has always been tempted to proscribe the world and the flesh, and to prescribe an ascetic discipline as the only way of holiness to mankind. The Lord of glory taking upon him the flesh of our humanity, and living not outside but in our world, not in the deserts but in the streets and the market-places, answered the question and answered it for ever. The body is of God, the needs and occupations of this earthly life are of God, the domestic, social, and political life of man is of God; there is among us He consecrated our daily lives; and wrote on the very bells of the horses that carry on the traffic of our world, "Holiness to the Lord." His presence everywhere, where man had interest and occupation, hallowed the whole sphere of man's secular callings, and lifted the whole level of man's daily working life into the region in which he shares the tasks and tastes the joy of the angels, who abide with God in their ministry and are blest. For all this daily round of duty, these small occupations, these common tasks, are part of God's great scheme of the order of this human world. Christ calls them holy, because He made them; He ordains their conditions, He watches their progress; they are a part, and a vital part, of the Divine order of the world. It may be said with truth that sin has created much of the condition under which we are living, and that it has jarred all the relations of life and poisoned all its springs. Sin has got mixed God." Let the draper measure, and the clerk copy, and the tailor stitch, and the weaver weave, and the cobbler cobble, and the shoeblack polish, as the Lord's servant, feeling that the task has been set him to do thoroughly, that the Lord's eye is on him to watch him, that the Lord's hand is outstretched to help him, and that the Lord's up with the whole round of our earthly duties and our daily fellowships, and it may seem at the first glance as though we must throw them, as a plague-tainted garment, away. But that is not the Lord's counsel. He perpetuates our race with all its sinful proclivities, and He perpetuates the conditions under which we live and work. He sees in all this busy life of ours, with all its degrad-"Well done" will at last reward him, and they ing temptations and harassing cares, the working out of a great plan of development, the plan on which, in the beginning, He made the worlds. From the first His delights were not in the deserts of creation, but with the sons of men in their crowded, struggling, secthing life. All these callings, this various play of human faculty, this manifold production, this eager, intense, and destructive struggle for life, is part of His counsel, His plan for the full development of our freedom, and it works into the great harmony of the universal progress, whose perfect form is the kingdom of heaven. And He hallows and blesses these manifold callings because, poor and dull as many of them are, and mixed up with sin, they are His means of delivering us from sin, of teaching us to conquer it, and to trample it under our feet for ever. He sends us to our worldly tasks, all the daily round of dull, monotonous toil, by which the world's work is done, not to degrade us, but to redeem us; not to punish us by setting us tasks which, mechanical as they are and worthy of the beasts, are yet all that we are worthy to handle, but to train us, to begin a holy culture and discipline of our fallen nature on the lowest forms of duty, so as to prepare us in time for the higher lessons of the heavenly schools. Man was sentenced to toil in mercy; and the patient, resolute, persistent fulfilment of appointed tasks is a noble education, where the spiritual nature is growing under the hand of Christ, for the nobler tasks of eternity. But still, man says, the tasks are poor and mean, and they fret and gall, and cramp the soul! What good can come to a spiritual being, a citizen of the heavenly state, with God and the whole spiritual world within reach of his apprehension, in measuring tape, or writing copy, or minding spindles, or stitching clothes, or cobbling shoes, the long day through? It is a miserably bungled and ill-managed world, he is tempted to say, which sets him to do it. No wonder if he rages against the necessity, and extricates himself from it as far as he can. Nay, "Brethren, let every man wherein he is called therein abide with it have no nobler work, and worthier of a spirit, up there among the stars. From a spirit's point of view the work is nothing; the mind, the aim, is all. Slave or free, matters little; the mind to obey the unseen Master, makes the slave the workmate of the angels and of the elect spirits before the throne. To abide with God in a calling is to have supreme regard to His commandment; to accept the task as of His appointment, and to know that God, as well as man, has an end to gain in its being bravely and thoroughly done. Abide with God. That means, take all the burden, all the weariness, and all the pain to Him and be refreshed by His sympathy, invigorated by His strength, and inspired by His love. If we abide with God, the surroundings, the accidents of the work, vanish. It may be poor, mean, tiresome, by human judgment; there is but one feature there to heavenly judgments—a child of the Highest, a son of God, a brother of Christ, hearkening to the voice of the Lord who rules on the everlasting throne. Here, then, is the principle of the order which Christianity has assured in the world of human society-an order which is instinct with the spirit of progress; which, while it would save society from dread cataclysms on the one hand, so leads its onward and upward movement on the other, as to give sure promise of the time when Christ's kingdom shall come, and Christ's will shall be done on earth as it is done in heaven. But we may see here the principle of order, the conservative principle, but fail to see the principle of progress. We may be tempted to ask, Is not this the principle of stagnation ? Are not these patient, submissive virtues which Christianity enjoins, and which the life of our Lord so grandly illustrates, fatal to that eager, restless longing for progress, that noble ambition, by which human society grows? If a man abides with God in his calling, will he not be likely to grow too content with it, and to hold himself back in patient submission from higher and more worthy tasks? No; because this is a principle of culture. The man who abides the Corporation and other authorities to allow them to be rebuilt, thus obliging the working men to reside in localities where there are but few or none of the richer classes. To such an extent has this policy been carried out that there are at present one hundred thousand fewer of the working classes inhabiting the city of London, properly so called, than there were in the year ISOI. About twelve years ago, when the Sisters first took up their abode in Saint Philip's, Clerkenwell, the better class of inhabitants were as a rule simply lodging-house keepers, whose rooms were for the most part occupied by persons engaged in the City either as clerks or junior assistants in offices or houses of business. These as a rule were without any independent means of their own, so that scarcely any help in money to assist those in distress could be looked for within the district itself. And then again the church in St. Philip's district was miserably provided for, its whole endowments scarcely reaching £250 a year, and its offertories being so small that the vicar was hardly able to defray the church expenses. A vast majority of the inhabitants were of the poorer description of the working classes, a considerable portion earning a scanty livelihood by making cheap clocks, cheap flowers, cheap brushes, and other similar articles for which, as a rule, they were most inefficiently paid. Some idea of the miserable manner in which their labours were remunerated may be gathered from the fact that one old woman of seventy-two years of age, came under notice, who, though suffering from failing sight, contrived, with great difficulty, to finish twelve dozen tooth brushes a week (that is to say, fastening in the bristles with wire) for which she received the sum of 4s. 6d., out of which she contrived, possibly occasionally with the assistance of her neighbours scarcely better off than herself, to pay her rent and live; that is to say as far as keeping soul and body together. And yet bad as her lot was, it was almost enviable when compared with that of others of the same handicraft, some shops paying only 3s. 6d. the gross. It may easily be imagined how pitiable, in severe weather or when out of employment, must have been the lot of these poor creatures; and there were many other handicrafts as poorly remunerated as the class we have mentioned. Then, again, there were those who had families dependent on them for support, the poor mother being often obliged to contribute to the maintenance of : her children by hours of manual labour snatched from the time which ought to have been devoted to her own offspring. It was principally in assisting and comforting such cases as these that the good works of the Sisters were applied-feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and nursing the sick. Not only were the whole of the labours, performed in their good works, unpaid, but the funds necessary, not only for their own maintenance but for the relief they afforded to the poor who congregated around them, was contributed mainly from their own private means. At length others joined them; but although they brought with them. more funds of their own, the applicants for relief became in proportion still more numerous, so that in point of fact the liabilities increased in greater proportion than the funds the sisters possessed to meet them. They then resorted to private appeals to their friends, and the money they received was still further supplemented by an annual sale at the mission-house, of fancy work and common clothes provided by their own associates, as well as by a few of the more substantial class of parishioners, who gave generously both of their time and their money. As the exertions of the Sisters became better known, other friends came forward to assist them, as well as divers charitable societies, though hardly to the extent a work of the kind deserved. For example, the District Visiting Society gives to the vicar, the Rev. R. H. Clutterbuck, two annual grants varying in amount according to the severity of the season, but never exceeding a total of £50. The Charity Organization Society has during the past year kindly helped a few special The cases recommended by the Sisters. Philanthropic Society also supplied a few bread and coal tickets during the March of 1880. The Destitute Children's Dinner Society during the winter gave them a grant of £3 per month. Again, another society, that for Relief of Distress, kindly supplies them with 100 tickets per month during each winter season, the tickets being for groceries, coals, bread and meat. This last contribution is especially noteworthy, as showing the unsectarian manner in which the charitable funds in the hands of the Sisters are dispensed, the above society making it a special rule not to assist any charitable enterprises in which the poor of all religious denominations are not treated on an equal footing. An average of So to 120 poor people apply daily at the mission-house; no fresh cases are relieved without having first been | tutional weakness contracted in overcrowded visited and carefully looked into, and the and badly ventilated dwellings. After some sick have always the preference. Money time a locality was pointed out to them, is never given, but relief in kind, such as admirably adapted for the purpose, situated coal, groceries, bread and meat. Dinners at Boscombe, near Bournemouth. And then are cooked at the mission-house and sent out some friends came forward who supplied hot to the sick, on an average of about eight funds for the purchase of the grounds, a day, together with milk, tea, arrowroot, and as well as contributions towards the erection other medical necessaries. On Tuesdays of the buildings, though still far from suffiand Thursdays forty children are provided cient for the purpose the Sisters had in with a hot meat dinner at the mission-house, hand. Nothing depressed, however, they and on Wednesdays and Fridays soup is sup- continued their good work, and then other plied to the most needy families. A trained ladies joined them, with more or less private nurse lives in the mission-house and works in means, which they added unhesitatingly the district, binding up wounds and administer- to the funds for the establishment of the ing simple remedies under the direction of a Orphanage, as well as giving their gratuitous. medical man who resides in the neighbour- services as assistants, teachers, and nurses. hood, and who in cases of emergency most And most honourably and inflexibly have they kindly attends to the poor under the care of kept to their determination. the Sisterhood. But for fear of fatiguing our readers, we could dwell much longer on the other good works of the Sisterhood in Clerkenwell; but we have still to speak of another branch of the institution which cannot be without interest to the philanthropic public, and is certainly as well worthy of honourable mention as many other similar and better known institutions, which are far more liberally supported. In the course of their work in St. Philip's district, the hard lot of many destitute children, and especially young orphan girls, came particularly under the notice of the Sisterhood; the prominent result of their experience was that a large proportion of these poor children, who afterwards turned out badly, owed their fall rather to want of proper care and training combined with poverty, than to any natural tendency to do wrong. As the experience of the Sisters became the greater, this conclusion became so firmly fixed on their minds that at last they determined to establish an Orphanage, in which these poor girls should be not only well fed and clothed, but also trained up to become good and useful members of society. But here again a terrible impediment arose before them, and that too of such magnitude that nothing but invincible courage and determination could have overcome it. Noticing that debility of constitution, which generally arises from destitution, was one great cause of the inability of these young girls to obtain respectable remunerative employment, the Sisters, with sound judgment, decided that their Orphanage should be erected in some healthy locality by the seaside, in order to eradicate, as far as possible, the germs of consti Here we may call the attention of the reader to one particularly noticeable feature of the manner in which the Sisterhood have conducted the affairs, not only of the head, or Clerkenwell establishment, but of the Orphanage as well. In their organization may not only be detected the kindly feeling of good, womanly impulse, but an amount of shrewd common-sense and economical science in management fully equal to that of any institution of the kind in England. The Orphanage building itself is in every respect deserving of the highest praise. It is of handsome elevation, and yet no money has been squandered on it; although, at the same time, it might be enlarged for the accommodation of more pupils, did the funds of the Sisterhood allow the expenditure. It would be difficult to suggest to visitors, residing in Bournemouth, a more pleasant method of passing a few hours on a fine afternoon than a visit to the Sisterhood's Orphanage at Boscombe, that is, judging from our own experience in the matter. Nor need they fear any difficulty on their arrival, for nothing could be more courteous or obliging than the reception they are likely to meet with. On reaching the building, we expressed to an attendant our wish to inspect the Orphanage, and a few minutes afterwards the Sister Superior appeared, and kindly offered to conduct us over the whole building, inviting us, at the time, to ask any questions we pleased, and she would candidly answer them. Our first visit was to the children's dormitories, which were not only large and well ventilated, but over the whole a scrupulous cleanliness was apparent, which would not have done any discredit to the best regu lated household in England. Moreover, the ventilation was perfect in every respect; the greater portion of the windows opening to the southward, so as to catch the pure breeze from the sea. We afterwards visited the schoolrooms, where we found the greater portion of the children at their lessons. The girls in the institution, the Sister informed us, average from three to sixteen or seventeen years of age, all entering when very young. And here a very gratifying feature was to notice, among the orphans, the valuable restorative effects produced by cleanliness, regularity of living, good feeding, and kind attention in remedying the constitutional weakness occasioned by poverty, misery, and destitution. The younger class, averaging from three to five years of age, were seated together in a department by themselves. Many of these children, especially those from three to four years of age, showed evident signs of lack of vital stamina, this deficiency becoming less apparent in children a year or so older. One of the younger especially attracted our attention. In point of size she rather resembled a somewhat emaciated full-grown infant, but yet we found she was four years of age. On speaking to her, however, we discovered she was exceedingly intelligent, and answered clearly the different questions we put to her, and yet she was so small, that, without any exaggeration, she might almost have joined the party of American Midgets at present exhibiting in Piccadilly. On inquiring into her history, we found that she had fortunately come under the notice of one of the medical officers in St. Bartholomew's Hospital, who easily perceiving that the emaciated condition of the poor little creature was due rather to the effects of privation than any congenital peculiarity, made interest with some benevolent ladies, and the result was that the child was placed under the care of the Sisterhood in the Boscombe Orphanage. Small as she was at the time we saw her, we found that she had already considerably improved in health and strength; and the Sisters considered that she gave good promise of recovering from the effects of deprivations suffered in her earlier childhood. We were now introduced to a number of other girls, averaging from eight to fourteen years of age, who, under the care of two Sisters, were busily engaged with their studies. The school itself, we were informed, was under Government supervision, and the testimonials received from the inspector or examiner were of the most satis factory description. We next visited the apartments of the industrials, where we found them, perhaps. thirty in number, employed in different household occupations, all under the supervision of the Sisters. The only two paid officials in the institution are the head laundry-maid (who, from the manner she trained up her pupils, might almost be termed a professor of the handicraft) and, we believe, the cook; but in this last case we are not quite certain whether that duty was not performed by one of the Sisters. The laundry itself was a perfect model of its kind, every appliance, such as drying-closets, ironing-stoves, and every other appurtenance requisite, being there in abundance, but which we will not attempt minutely to describe, as very likely we might fail to do them justice. One attribute, however, connected with this part of the establishment, as with the kitchen and scullery, should be noticed—an amount of cleanliness and regularity it would be difficult indeed to surpass. In the girls themselves, both of the industrial classes as well as the elder children in the schoolroom, not the slightest trace of the privations they had suffered in their early infancy was to be detected. A more healthy, cheerful, and respectable body of girls it would be impossible to meet with in any class |