CHAPTER XVIII.

A PROPOSAL.

Pamela Graydon had been Pamela Trevithick for three years, when one day in late summer Sylvia, still Sylvia Graydon, was entertaining a visitor in her London drawing-room.

It was Lord Glengall, a shade greyer, a shade leaner, but looking well nevertheless, and brown with southern suns.

"And so," he said, "we shall travel back to Ireland together."

"It will be a delightful and unexpected pleasure to have your company."

"You are glad to return, Sylvia?"

"Glad! It is no word for it. I am hungry for the velvety wind that blows across the mountains. I am so tired of these glaring streets, of parties, and dinners and luncheons, and functions of all kinds."

Lord Glengall laughed.

"To tell you the truth, I am amazed and amused to find your father in the midst of it all."

"Papa! Oh, papa is the veriest Piccadilly lounger. He has returned to it all as freshly as if he had never left it. He discovered troops of old friends--without a misgiving--as soon as ever he came in for the title."

"He doesn't pine for Carrickmoyle?"

"Now and again. When the desire becomes very strong, he and I slip away to Euston some evening, forgetting all our engagements, and, for a few days, our new circumstances, at Carrickmoyle, where Bridget cooks our chops and makes us potato-cakes just as of old."

"I am glad to hear Bridget is still to the fore."

"She is not a day older."

"She never carried out her threat of marrying my gardener?"

"Mr. Grady is still a widdy-man, as they used to say in the dear country."

"But to return to your father. The _magnum opus_ has become an accomplished fact. You see, I haven't been so far out of the world as not to have heard that."

"Yes. It has been a great success. He is as much in request at learned societies and conversaziones as he is in fashionable drawing-rooms. To think of the years he vegetated at Carrickmoyle!"

"Happy years, Sylvia."

"I could hardly hope for happier."

"He will be in soon, Sylvia?"

"About half-past five," consulting a little watch fastened to her gown. "You can endure my company till then."

"I shall try to. But am I not keeping you from afternoon calls or something? I saw a carriage at the door as I came in."

"I have sent it away. I was rejoiced to do it. Papa will be simply wild with delight at your falling from the clouds like this."

"He hasn't forgotten me, then?"

"How should he? The only drawback about Carrickmoyle has been that we could see from it the cold chimneys of Glengall."

"Ah! we shall warm them," said Lord Glengall, beaming at her. "We shall have fine jinks if only you and your father will spend six months of the year at Carrickmoyle. I am no Londoner, and never shall be. But I shall be able to endure six months of solitude if I know I am going to have you for the remainder of the year."

"You will not long be left solitary. You cheated the country the last time by disappearing again before it had had time to rejoice over you. Your return will flutter the dovecotes for thirty miles around."

"You are very kind, Sylvia," said Lord Glengall simply. "But you have not told me half the news," he went on. "How is Molly?"

"Flourishing. Mick has got his company. He wouldn't leave the service on any consideration, and I think he was right. They are as much in love with each other as ever; and they have a beautiful boy."

"Ah! that is right. Molly deserved to be happy."

"She did, and so did Mick. Mick is a dear old fellow."

"And Pam, Sylvia?"

There was no consciousness in his voice.

"Pam, too, is a success. She has been a beauty for three seasons, strange to say."

"And it is a happy marriage?"

"Perfectly happy. They are ideally well suited."

"I am glad of that. How does Pam get on with her mother-in-law?"

"Fairly well, I believe. Lady Jane keeps herself to herself, which is lucky for Pam. I never took to that lady. But she is devoted to the heir. She wouldn't strike you, somehow, as a grandmotherly person, but it is so."

"There is an heir?"

"Yes; he is two years old, and he has a baby sister of seven months."

"Ah! how you young people have been making history since I left. I shall not know this new world of your making."

"You find me changed?"

"Lovelier, Sylvia."

"It is nice to have you say that."

"Still greedy for conquest, even though it is only an old fogey?"

"Ah!"--with more intensity than he thought the occasion demanded--"you never can be that!"

"You are always kind, little girl. When I look into your eyes, I fancy it is the old Sylvia I am talking to, and not a fine lady."

"It is the old Sylvia."

"The Sylvia I knew would never have worn this"--touching a fold of her dress.

"She would, if she could. It is only a Paris tea-gown. She was happier in the prints at sixpence a yard from Guirk's shop in Lettergort."

"Happier, Sylvia? What have you been doing with yourself since?"

"Growing old and faded with trying to occupy several houses at once and doing a great many things I detest."

She laughed at him from where she sat in her youth and beauty, and he laughed in answer.

"Where are the lads who used to be in love with you?"

"All married, except Algy St. Quintin; but he has long given up asking me. We are good comrades."

"No more than that, Sylvia?"

"No more than that. I wouldn't lose sight of him for anything. He is just the same imp of mischief, as Bridget used to call him. His coolness is phenomenal, and his impudence so deliciously incongruous with his cherubic boy's face."

"There is no one else, Sylvia?"

"There is no one else."

"Ah! you are so hard-hearted, child. Or is it that you will stay with your father?"

"Not altogether that. I've seen no one here I would marry."

"Yet you have met all sorts and conditions of men."

"All sorts and conditions, but not the right one."

"The right one will come."

"He might come--he may have come, and not have found me the right woman."

She looked at him an instant; then she suddenly blushed hotly, and her eyes fell and rested on the jewelled fingers in her lap. So full was her attitude of yielding and submission that it might well make the heart of a lover leap.

A sudden, bewildering idea came to the man before her. For an instant he was dazed with the shock of it. Then he stood up and paced the room in great agitation.

"Sylvia," he said at last, pausing before her where she still sat, a lovely image of submission, "Pamela was right when she did not marry me."

"She was right because she did not love you."

"How could she love me? I might have been her father."

"That is no reason. Love does not take count of such things."

"Ah, Sylvia! What has love to do with grey hairs?"

"If there is love, they are better than gold."

"Sylvia, do you know what madness you are putting into my head?"

"I cannot know unless you tell me."

Sylvia's eyes were raised to his with a flash of the old audacity.

"Perhaps I dare not tell you."

"Ah, do!"

"If I were a young man and you would do it, you might turn this work-a-day earth to Paradise for me."

"And why not now?"

"Ah! child, you do not know what you are saying. What could you, a beauty and an heiress, see in me?"

"I am glad I am beautiful to you. But why should that and the other things stand between me and my happiness?"

"Your happiness, Sylvia?"

"Ah, yes! You wouldn't see it, but I always thought there was no one in the world like you. You chose Pam before me, and even then I accepted your will, but I loved you still."

"I chose Pam because she was unhappy, because there seemed no other way. It did not break my heart to give her up, though it was a blow. It does not hurt me now to hear of her as Lady Trevithick. But I dare not risk the same thing with you."

"Why?"

"Because it would be so easy to forget my years, and love you with a young man's ardour, and more than a young man's faith."

"Then why not love me?"

"Ah! Sylvia, it is your kindness, your compassion. I could not endure to be thrown over now, even though I am well on in my forties."

"I shall not throw you over. Look at me, and you will see."

He looked at her, and made a step towards her.

"Then you will make the world over again for me?"

"And you for me?"

"Ah, Sylvia!"

"Yes. How hard it was to persuade you. There will be lots of people who will want to marry you once it is known you have come back. You might have liked someone better than me. And I have waited for three years."

"You fairy princess, what do you mean by condescending to a mortal's grey hairs?"

"We shall be so happy, you and I and papa. We shall lead the country life, though he'll have to come to London now and again for his serious 'frivolities.' And I shall make you care for me. Now you do not care for me nearly so much as I do for you."

"You bewilder me, Sylvia."

"Ah! yes, you will care for me. I shall not let you cheat me."

"You talk as if my youth were not flown, you lovely child."

"It is not flown. You do not mean to say you used up your youth during those hard years that lined your face and sowed grey hairs in your head? Ah! no, you were saving it up for me."

"It is _too_ incredible!"

"Take time, then, to think, good gentleman," said Sylvia, with laughter dancing bewitchingly about her mouth; but her eyes were tender.

"If I take time, all this will take wings like a dream and fly away."

"Then keep it," said Sylvia.

"My life--what remains of it--will be devoted to you."

"It is time you should say that. You have been going after false fires, while I have been true all the time."

"You to me, Sylvia!"

"I to you. But if I had not almost asked you, you would have left me to single blessedness. Ah! there is papa's ring. He will be glad."

"He will think it folly, Sylvia."

"Ah! no, he won't. Dear, wise papa, he was always anxious for you to marry one of his daughters."

TIRED.

On the weary waves of the world To and fro This tired life of mine has been whirled! In the flow And ebb of every dangerous tide My thoughts have drifted far and wide, As on a bleak and bare hill-side Drifts the snow.

I sought for rest afar, afar, But found it not; I dreamed sweet dreams, if such things are Sweet which we wot Are false. I woke again to know The weight of an unceasing woe, And journeyed onward, bending low To a hard lot.

At length to my weary soul I said, "Soul of mite, The empty restless life thou hast led, In shade and shine, In winter's cold and angry beat, In summer's languid parching heat-- Poor soul!" I said, "It is not meet Such fate be thine.

"There is a rest, oh! my tired soul, Far away, We soon may reach that happy goal Beyond to-day. Far, far beyond those darkening skies There is a Land which Rest supplies-- Peace, endless peace, that never dies. Come away!"

H. BROOKE DAVIES.

LIGHT THROUGH DULL PANES.

_A VISIT TO THE EARLSWOOD ASYLUM._

(_Illustrated from Photographs by Cassell and Co., Ltd._)

[_This is the first of a special series of illustrated articles on representative philanthropic institutions. Each article will describe the scope and work of the institution concerned, and will in addition contain detailed information as to the methods of admission, with special reference to the "voting" system._]

The young Queen Victoria had been ten years on the throne of England. In this decade the wheel of philanthropy seemed to turn with increased impetus. It had been set in motion before the dawn of the nineteenth century, for then asylums for the blind, the deaf and dumb, and lunatic had been established. Now various institutions and schemes of benevolence were springing into existence in aid of other classes of sufferers. There was still something wanting, a lady maintained to Dr. Andrew Reed--a powerful friend of the afflicted and needy; she asked him to help the feeble-minded. He demurred; he doubted whether there were sufficient cases to call for a special institute. If she could find six in six days, he promised to take up the matter. Six days produced twenty eligible from their poverty and infirmity, and the well-known philanthropist kept his word. The National Asylum for Idiots was inaugurated at the Mansion House in October, 1847, and was established at Highgate in January, 1848. Since then it has received upwards of 3,000 cases, and the institution now at Earlswood has served as a model for others in different parts of Europe and our colonies.

The need of such asylums encircles the world; for wherever humanity has spread children may be born with inherent infirmity, or the "heart ache and a thousand natural shocks which flesh is heir to" may cloud the brightest intelligence. The poor and sick in mind must ever appeal for help to the rich and strong and capable. The mysterious "something wanting" in intellect is a grievous calamity, even when good friends and wealth can procure all possible compensations. In a family where the necessities of life depend on the power to work, it reduces existence to a miserable burden. It was especially for the poor that the National Asylum was established. The pleasant building standing on the breezy uplands above Redhill can accommodate nearly 700 patients; and twice a year, on the last Thursday in the months of April and October, needy cases, from five years old and upwards, are elected on the foundation by the votes of subscribers. There are generally from 130 to 150 applicants, though funds only allow the admission of about one-fifth of the number. Presentations for life may be secured, but it is a happiness to know that the term of five years, which is the rule in election, is sometimes sufficient to teach a boy a trade, or a girl to make herself useful in housework, needlework, or a laundry. Patients entered for five years may be re-elected. Lately one of them wrote to his friends, "It will be soon time to get me in again for another five years. I hope that it will be all right; I like Earlswood."

Why should a boy able to write and to take thought for his own affairs be in an asylum for imbeciles? A visit to Earlswood would be the most effectual answer to the question. It is hard to know where idiocy begins and ends. There are skilled workmen in the printers', tailors', carpenters', and other departments, who, to a casual observer, betray nothing wanting.

Many of their exhibits, as well as specimens of the girls' and women's needlework, were sold at the Arts and Crafts Exhibition at Lancaster in 1897, where a section was open to institutions for imbeciles, and seventeen prizes were awarded to Earlswood. But there are other patients whose limited intelligence renders them oblivious of their own infirmity or their own names; between the two extremes there is every degree of feebleness of mind. Those who consciously suffer least are likely to call out the greatest compassion. It is natural to turn away and try to forget the sight of a human creature going on all-fours, or of great helpless babies, without the charm or sweetness of infancy, sitting up with bibs on, waiting for the meal for which they cannot ask.

"It must be sad and painful to a visitor," the matron said, "to have a passing glance at the worst cases, but to live amongst them, as she had done for eleven years, was full of interest. Nearly all were capable of some improvement."

A home where everything is done to promote their health and happiness is, for the weak-minded, a new world. To be taken from conditions of continual disadvantage, and placed under the charge of guardians whose first duty is to work and watch for the awakening of soul and mind, brings hope and comfort into their life. A poor constitution is often added to the disadvantages of the imbecile; and in families where their friends cannot constantly protect them they are often exposed to teasing, and driven into fits of fury, ending in chronic bad temper, by the mischief or malice of their companions.

"No one is allowed to tease them here," a nurse remarked, in speaking of the patients' affection and their general disposition to get on well together. They are classified, so that they meet companions on equal terms. The lowest have not the spirit or independence to defy lawful authority; to the highest but refractory, degradation to a class below is the most salutary punishment that can be inflicted. They soon try by their conduct to rise to their former level. Anyone in charge giving a patient a blow would be liable to criminal prosecution. The vicious or dangerous cases are not admitted, and the authorities do not encourage the re-election of those who give absolutely no promise of improvement. The vacancies ought to be filled by candidates to whom care and treatment will be of use. In the great busy world outside Earlswood are muscular limbs dwindling or growing stiff for want of exercise, and hands framed for skill which are only filled with mischief by the active spirit against whom Dr. Watts left an immortal warning. They need not remain idle, for special training can supply much that Nature has denied.

It requires a great deal of patience to teach this class of pupils a useful calling, as more than one instructor remarked when the doctor conducted a visitor through the various workshops. Some are unwilling to learn; in Earlswood, as in all communities, each variety of disposition is represented, as well as every degree of lack of ability.

"You can't make me work, you know, doctor," one patient maintained, "for I am only an imbecile."

Happily, in this little world which, in spite of its limitations, manufactures and supplies for itself most of the necessaries of life, all are not ready to make capital out of their infirmity. The master-carpenter lamented the loss of a former diligent pupil, who had been worth one pound a week to the institution, and he showed with pride the doors and panels of another, who he said might now earn his own living anywhere. This clever young carpenter had been at Earlswood for three years, and in the workshop for two. He bore a high character, and was so attached to the asylum that, when he was at home for a summer holiday, he came back for a day. Yet before his admission his relations had been unable to manage him.

The master-tailor called one of his "best boys" to show the waistcoat he was making. A good-looking middle-aged man descended with alacrity from the table--where, in the time-honoured custom of his trade, he worked in an attitude calculated to cause persons of other callings violent cramp in the legs--and shook hands all round with great warmth and friendliness. Directly he had displayed a piece of work, in which his instructor took pardonable pride, he returned with renewed diligence to his needle and thread. This man's interest in tailoring is so keen that when he, in his turn, does duty in the kitchen, he returns to his cloth and his favourite attitude for every available moment. Seated together with the first-class workmen are others, smiling over their attempts to learn stitching or to make button-holes. They may possibly never get beyond samplers, but time will show.

In the shoemakers' shop similar degrees of skill and industry were manifest. One man held in his hand a finished boot that he had made from the beginning, whilst others could only be trusted to black and polish. So it was with the rest of the twenty-five trades and callings in which last year 198 men and boys were employed, each according to his several ability. Perhaps the highest attainments are seen in the printing department--the only one that undertakes outside work. Besides the necessary printing for Earlswood and the London office, 232 private orders were sent out last year, and a profit was made of £150. On the occasion of my visit, a young compositor was not quite ready to show his proof to the doctor, who inquired what he was doing. He had just set up the programme for a patients' party, and had made it conclude with "Musicle Chairs"; he wanted to correct the spelling before it was inspected.

One elderly man, deaf, with an impediment in his speech and afflicted in mind, had his own workshop. All around him were evidences of his artistic skill. He looked tenderly at his own drawings, but the objects of his special admiration were the various magnifiers and reflectors he had designed and made to help him in fine carving. H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, who is interested in Earlswood, has lately presented him with some elephant tusks. It was a pleasure to this artist to display the lightness of an ivory landscape brooch. A piece of tortoise-shell at the back, with a judicious arrangement of the golden and dark blotches, made it a transparency. When held up on one side to the light, it was a sunny scene; whilst on the other it was dark, with a full moon.

In spite of gentle manners and artistic skill, this man would probably be unable to live or turn his talents to account outside an asylum. He belongs to a class who for practical purposes never outgrow mental childhood. Years roll by. Time brings them grey hairs and other signs of his flight, but never carries them beyond the need of fatherly care. Many with far less intelligence seem to realise this.

It is pathetic to hear in some wards the cry of "Mother!" and see a smile of fancied recognition when a stranger appears. One middle-aged woman who called out "Mamma, mamma!" had some information, cheerful but incoherent, to impart. Then the name of "George" suddenly arrested her flow of trivialities, and her face puckered into a grotesque expression of distress. She raised her hand and pointed upward, saying, "George up there." The sorrowful remembrance was, however, transient; the next instant she was all smiles. The eddy on the surface of her smooth life soon caught the sunshine, but its presence was sufficient to call out fresh compassion for the poor souls whose wits may have been lost under a weight of trouble heavier than they could bear.

The sad pages in the life-history of some of the most helpless are, however, blotted out of their memory, or only dimly recalled by a fragmentary remark. The sound of laughter in the recreation-room, sitting-rooms, and playground is almost constant. If it shows the vacant mind, it also bespeaks content. Pleasure and enjoyment are circumscribed, but so also is the capacity for suffering in mind and body. The patients have almost as little temptation to anxious thought for the morrow as the ravens or lilies.

In a narrow sphere a trifling event assumes great dimensions, and the day may be easily filled with pleasures. The delight with which one middle-aged patient said that she was going to have a new dress had all the innocent glee of childhood. A lad who called out "Tick, tick!" at the sight of the doctor was immediately made happy by being allowed to listen to his watch.

Various little treats are planned as rewards for good conduct. In the winter, those who do well are invited once a week to join in games in the recreation-room. Yet the Head Governess is of opinion that the little ones are never happier than when they are at lessons. According to their ability, they go through the course usually adopted in elementary schools, and have the same physical exercises. The elder girls are employed in housework or in the laundry. Many, no doubt, enjoy the new experience of being usefully employed, and industry and willingness are rewarded by an afternoon walk to the town, a small amount of pocket-money, and a reward at the New Year.

The sense of right and wrong, and of responsibility, develops with exercise. Of the many letters received last year at Earlswood from the patients or their relations acknowledging the good results of training, the Resident Physician looked upon one from a man discharged five years ago as the most satisfactory. But for a course of treatment the writer would probably have remained all his life as a burden on his relations. He is now earning ten shillings a week in a grocery business. After making this satisfactory announcement, he continues: "I belong to a Bible-class. I am also in a club, so, if I am ill, my mother gets ten shillings and sixpence per week, and my doctor's bill paid." With inquiries after old friends, special love to two, this patient remains a "loving friend." How many men with all their faculties do more? And how many others fall below his standard of duty and gratitude! In days of old, one out of ten to whom the same miracle of mercy brought new life and health returned to the great Healer and gave glory to God, and he belonged to a class from whom least might have been expected. A good proportion of the strangers to many privileges, as the feeble-minded must ever remain, often live as examples of doing their best. A man is accepted according to that he hath.

The highest and the only certain principle of good conduct is kept before all who enter the asylum. Twice a day they meet for prayers, and before and after meals grace, sung in the great hall to the accompaniment of a fine organ, fills the corridors with music, in which many of the patients delight. The resident Religious Instructor last year found a note slipped into his hand, addressed, "Mr. Small, from me." A patient wrote:

"DEAR SIR, I wish to ask you, in a nice kind way or other, to have two of my hymns on the 5th of February, which is Saturday. Please have them in the evening--Nos. 500 and 532--and you may quite expect a nice pocket-book from me.--Your friend, PERCY."

It is not unusual for boys to ask that their birthdays may be celebrated by singing their favourite hymns.

Their teacher finds that lessons on the life and miracles of our Lord always have a charm for the patients. Even those unable to read or intelligently follow the prayers can enjoy Sunday; then they receive pictures illustrating Bible incidents, and can, at least, hear the hymns at the evening service, which in summer is held under the trees. Methods of teaching must be adapted to the varied capacity, but the lesson of the compassion of our Lord for every infirmity is common to the 600 patients whom Earlswood now shelters, whilst 130 are waiting for admission.

One class may enter by payment, which varies according to the circumstances and requirements. The lowest payment is sixty-five guineas a year, and it includes entire maintenance and clothing for twelve months. There are no vacations, unless the friends desire it. Private patients do not mix with those on the foundation either at meals or in the recreation-room. Some have their own sitting-rooms and special attendants.

Another class of patients may enter by part-payment. They are elected from a list of candidates whose friends fill a position that would preclude their gaining free admission, but who are unable to make the ordinary payment. The minimum sum of fifteen guineas is required annually so long as the child remains in the asylum.

A large number of subscribers' votes, 700 at least, are required to place a candidate for ordinary election on the foundation. Before canvassing, a form must be obtained from the office, 36, King William Street, London Bridge, E.C., in order to see if the case is deemed eligible by the Board, whether for free or part-payment election. For the well-being of the community in general, rules cannot be broken. Great disappointment and trouble are sometimes occasioned by an attempt to canvass before ascertaining that a candidate will be approved by the Board. The receipt of parish relief at any time disqualifies a candidate. Certain regulations, the result of experience, have been made regarding receiving and maintaining the large family whom the authorities have taken under their care, and Earlswood is subject to the inspection of the Commissioners in Lunacy.

During fifty years the supporters of this institution have, in a very literal sense, obeyed the injunction to "comfort the feeble-minded." In spite of limp limbs and slouching gait, the weakest among the imbecile bear the image of their Creator. Can it be doubted that they are as precious to Him as the conies who, though "but a feeble folk," find, under His providence, a refuge in the stony rocks? In their helplessness and dependence, the afflicted in mind find a place in the heart and affection of their guardians; and who can tell how many have learnt, through them, to hide themselves with all their infirmities in the Rock of Ages?

D. L. WOOLMER.

By Lina Orman Cooper, Author of "Our Home Rulers," Etc.

"There is many an arrow in my quiver, full of speech to the wise, but for the many they need interpreters."

So wrote Pindar long, long ago; and I, having gathered many arrows of help and knowledge from the quiver of books around me, would fain pass them on. In this paper I string these barbs to the bow of motherhood, and trust they may pierce to the joints of the harness.

Perhaps there is no subject absorbing more attention at the present time than that of motherhood and heredity. Never has the cult of maternity been better formulated--never has the practice of it been more carefully studied. "In these days of pressure," writes Lyttleton, "it is a mother's first duty to her children to secure for them a full seven years of passive life." "The best and first service a mother can do her children," says another writer, "is to maintain the standard of her own life at its highest--

"'Allure to brighter worlds, and _lead the way_.'"

"It is a mother's first duty to provide for each newborn soul an environment which will foster its highest development," says another. "To praise is a part of a mother's first work in the world on behalf of her children," adds a fourth. "I consider it to be the first and most important part of the education of childhood to lead them early to think" is Froebel's opinion.

The importance of a mother's influence during the first few years of existence is repeated in Lord Macaulay's well-known aphorism, "Give me the first seven years of a child's life, and let who will take the rest"; and by Froebel, when he says, "The most important period of human education is before the child is seven years old."

We mothers, who are God's special servants--His instruments, as it were, for the particular purpose of carrying out His will for the wee individuals confided to us--are apt to think too little about those first years of a child's life. Our children, from two to five, are often left to self-education. Very little scientific care is expended on them. Yet beauty of body and soul would not be so seldom met with, or so transient as it is apt to be with us, if we truly educated persons took our children in hand from their _babyhood_, instead of leaving them to the most ignorant class of the community.

"It is usual to speak of the Greeks," writes Peabody in his "Primary School," "as if they were of exceptional organisation. Their organisation was only exceptional because it was more carefully treated in _infancy_ than ours is apt to be."

"The laws which govern the growth of the human mind are as definite and as general in their application as those which apply to the material universe," and we know the basis of all development is a _good foundation_. This must be laid in early youth, both as regards the body and as regards the mind. "It is so fatally easy to do mischief" in those first seven years. The limbs of a sapling are not more easily bent than the budding desires of the infant. "The soul instinctively expects love" from the first, and only a mother's exclusively cherishing tenderness ought to be the rule in a nursery. "The true educational instinct is but the mother's instinct and method clearly understood in all its bearings and carried out intelligently."

This last word opens out a wonderful vista. "Parents should make the care of their children an object to study physiology and psychology," says Peabody; and thus we find education is always mutual. According to Goethe, "the child teaches the parent what the parents omit to teach him"; and, as Plato adds, "man cannot propose (or woman either) a higher or loftier object for his study than education and all that pertains thereto."

Before leaving this branch of the subject, it is well for all mothers clearly to understand the difference between education and instruction. The former (training of the heart) belongs exclusively to the parent. The latter (training of the intellect) to the governess. As Renan puts it, "Instruction is given in the school. Education takes place in the father's house; the masters are the mothers and sisters."

Well for us if we remember that education is always going on, whether we will it or not. Our life, our morals, are affecting our children for weal or woe, whether we realise or shirk the fact. "Every human life is lifted or lowered by the home it is born into." That magic and omnipotent gift of a mother's influence "is an hourly, unconscious, emanating force" exercised on those around. "We always know when we are instructing. We do not always know when we are educating." The realisation of this amazing power is enough to stagger the bravest heart. "A mother has to be convinced that the great function of motherhood is not only to guard her child, to exhort him, to train him, but to live her life in the presence of that child as a pattern of what the child should aspire to become."

A mother's influence should certainly be at its strongest during the early years of life. It "depends on what she is, and only in a subordinate way on what she does." Therefore, she can carry altruism too far. A mother is of as much value in the sight of God as is her child, and "the path in which she has to walk is plainly that of self-sanctification for the sake of" that child. This implies seasons for culture, rest, prayer, and the preservation of her body in health. To quote Miss Mason on this point, "Health is a duty, and any trifling with health, either vicious or careless, is really in the nature of suicide, because life is held in trust from a supreme Authority."

Will the years be wasted if we spend them mastering the science of education in our nurseries? Nay! even our personal charms will be amplified by the most entrancing study in the world. "The perfect loveliness of a woman's countenance can only consist in that majestic peace which is founded in memory of happy and useful years full of sweet records" (Ruskin). Verily we shall have our reward.

A FAIRY PARABLE.

By Howard Angus Kennedy.

Once upon a time there were ten little Red Indians, and they lived in a school-house built of logs on the banks of the River Saskatchewan; and, if you cannot pronounce the river's name, just try till you can. The reason they lived in a school-house was that their fathers had gone hunting in the woods, and their mothers were dead, so the wigwams were very lonely; but the children were as happy as they could be, and enjoyed their schooling as much as any white children enjoy their holidays. The teacher was a sweet white lady from down beyond, who mothered them all so well that they never even thought of being bad. At least, only two of them did; and they never got beyond thinking about it, as long as the teacher was with them.

Down at the bottom of the river, in a deep, deep hole, there lived a wicked wizard; and one morning very early he was prowling along by the shore, with just the tip of his nose above water, sniff-sniff-sniffing for the scent of anyone good to eat. Now it happened that that morning the teacher had got up very early, and was sitting on a stone by the riverside, trying to think of new story-lessons to tell the children; and the wizard put up his long snaky arm out of the water and caught her by the neck and dragged her down to his cave. Then he tied her hands and feet, and waited for her to drown; but drown she would not. So he thought she must have a Testament in her pocket to act as a charm. The Testament was really in her heart, which was a great deal better. So when he saw she would not drown, he was a little frightened, and offered to let her go if she would give him one of the children instead.

"You wicked wizard," said she, "not one of them shall you have!"

"We shall see about that," said the wizard; and out he went, leaving the teacher tied fast at the bottom of the hole.

Now, when the children came down, they were very much surprised to find no teacher; but they took their morning dip in the river, as she had taught them to do. Just as they were coming out to dry themselves, a great grey fish put his head out of the water and said--"Children, the wizard that lives in the hole has caught your teacher, and he's coming to catch you."

The children jumped out of the water in a great fright. "What shall we do? What _shall_ we do?" they all began to cry.

"Put on your clothes," said the fish, after he had gone down for a moment to breathe.

That was soon done, for they had very few clothes to put on.

"Now get on our backs," said the great grey fish, who had come up this time with nine others as like him as could be. Then the ten fishes humped up their great grey backs, just keeping their heads under water to breathe with and their tails to swim with; and the ten children got on, and the fishes carried them across the big river in a twinkling.

"Now, children," said the chief of the fishes, "strike into the wood as straight as you can go till you come to the old brown bear, and he'll tell you the way to Fruity Hollow, where you'll get your dinner; but don't speak to the grizzly bear, for he's the wizard's son. Then go on till you come to the old grey wolf, and she'll tell you the way to the otters' cave; but don't say a word to the red wolf with the squint, for she's the wizard's daughter."

The fish was quite out of breath when he got to the end of this speech, and disappeared in a hurry.

Then the ten little Indians marched off into the woods, Indian file; and they all kept close together, one behind the other, except the two little boys that sometimes wished they did not have to do what they ought; and they dawdled behind. Pretty soon the children got to where the poplars end and the pinewoods begin, and there they saw the grizzly bear sitting on his haunches beside the path, with his arms folded smugly across his chest and his cruel face trying to smile.

"Welcome, little darlings!" the grizzly bear said, in a voice as sweet as honey. "Would you like me to take you to Fruity Hollow?"

The children shut their mouths tightly, and went straight on, and the grizzly gritted his teeth in disappointment; but when the two bad little Indians came straggling along he sat up again and put on his smirkiest smile and said--

"You poor little dears! What a shame it was for the others to leave you behind! How hungry you must be! Would you like me to show you the way to Fruity Hollow?"

"That I should, indeed!" said one of the boys. And the grizzly bear sprang upon him, and caught him up, and hugged him till the breath was nearly out of his body, and strode off with him; and the other boy ran on as fast as he could to catch up his companions.

Meanwhile the eight little Indians marched steadily on till they came to the old brown bear; and he was so fast asleep they could only wake him by pulling his fur, but they took care to pull it respectfully.

"All right," said the old brown bear in a mumbly voice, "I know what you want. First turning on the right, over the big tree that blew down last winter." Then he went to sleep again before they could say "Thank you, sir."

When they came to a big tree lying with its roots in the air, but with its needles still green, they scrambled over it and followed a winding path down into a narrow valley just full of wild raspberry- and gooseberry- and currant-bushes, and they picked and ate and picked and ate till they could eat no more. Then they made baskets of big leaves and twigs, and filled them with berries for supper, and climbed back over the big tree and trudged along up the path.

Soon afterwards they came upon the squinting red wolf, straddling right across the track.

"Here we are, you sweet little redskins," said she, with a grin two feet long. "The otters have asked me to show you the way to their cave."

The little redskins turned almost white with fear, but they shut their mouths tightly and pushed right on, and the wicked red wolf had to jump out of the way in a hurry, for she did not dare to touch children who remembered and obeyed. Presently the dawdler came up, very hungry and tired--for the brown bear had been much too fast asleep to tell him about Fruity Hollow--and burst out at once, without thinking, "Please can you tell me the way to the otters' cave?" Then the red wolf leapt upon him, and knocked him down, and picked him up by the back of his clothes and carried him off at a trot through the scratching brambles.

Just where the pinewoods end and the poplars begin again, the eight little Indians came upon the old grey wolf, curled up with her nose on her tail; and she put up her head for the children to scratch her neck. "Across the meadow and round the slough," she said when she had been scratched enough; "and down the stony creek."

So when they got to the edge of the wood they struck right across the meadow, wading knee-deep in the long rich grass; and then they found a path leading through another patch of poplar wood to a wide green slough--or "sloo," as they call it in Canada--half-lake and half-swamp; and they trod lightly round the narrow edge till they found the place where the water oozed out into the creek. Down the creek they went, with the stream purring beside their feet like a kitten in the sun, and the mosquitoes humming over their heads, and the silly loose-leaved poplars rustling all around them, wind or no wind.

"Listen!" said the biggest little Indian. And through all the purring and humming and rustling came the long low swishing sound of a big river. Then the eight little pairs of feet climbed out of the creek-bed, and crossed a corner of land till they stood almost on the edge of the river's earthen-cut bank.

There was a bustling and a scurrying under foot, and then a row of furry brown little heads popped up from the edge of the bank. "Come in!" barked all the otters in chorus; and, scrambling down the bank, the children followed the otters into their cave. There was plenty of room, though the door was rather small, and a big bed of prairie hay was spread on the floor.

"We've been expecting you, you see," said the mother otter, when the eight little Indians were squatting on their hunkers and eating berries. "The fishes told us to look out for you about this time."

"Have you made friends with the fishes, then?" asked the biggest boy.

"No, we're not exactly friends, only allies. We hate the wizard more than we hate each other, so we've joined to fight him. But I wish it was all over, so that we could go fishing again. Gophers are dreadfully dry food, and they do burrow in such dusty holes."

After supper the eight little Indians lay down in a row, and all the little otters spread themselves out into a big fur counterpane to keep the children warm. But the big otters sharpened their teeth as soon as it was dark, and swam down and down and down, with fiery eyes, till they came into the River Saskatchewan; and then they swam up and up and up till they came near the wizard's pit; and there they climbed out and hid just under the edge of the bank.

Presently they felt a heavy silent somebody tramping over the grass from the wood, and they knew that the grizzly bear was coming, and one of them slipped down to the water's edge to tell the great grey fishes, who were lying just inside the river.

"Well," said the greatest of the fishes, "what do you want us to do?" For he knew that the otters must take the lead when fighting had to be done.

"You must pretend to be the wizard," said the otter, "and tell the grizzly to come into the river up to his waist. We can fight much better in the water, you know."

So the fish put up his head, and called out, imitating the wizard's voice as well as he could, "Is that you, my son?"

"Of course it's me," grumbled the bear; "and a precious hard run I've had with this little wretch. I'd a good mind to stop on the way and eat him myself."

"Never mind, my dear," said the sham wizard. "I'll pay you well. Just bring him in, will you? The water won't come above your middle."

The grizzly grumbled something about the water being cold, and he thought his father might as well have come ashore; but he waded in, all the same, and the otters dived and swam after him. And when the water was up to his middle the fishes swam in between his legs and nibbled his toes, and hit him hard on the legs with their great tails, and toppled him right over; but still he held on to the boy with one arm, while he clawed savagely at the fishes with the other. Then the otters sprang at his shoulders, and bit right through the fur and the flesh, so that he dropped the boy in the water; and the fishes and otters kept up such a splashing and a jumping and a biting that the bear could not see a foot in front of him, and the boy dashed back to the shore and huddled shivering under the bank.

"Help, help, help!" yelled the grizzly. "They've stolen the boy! They're cutting off my toes! They're tearing off my ears! They're flaying me alive!"

Then the wizard awoke, and leapt out of his hole, and came flying to the rescue, raking the water and the air with his long snaky arms, and screeching horribly. But before he got to where the grizzly was rolling over and over in a whirlpool of mad otters and fishes and foam, he heard the voice of his daughter, the red wolf, who had just arrived and was calling out (as well as she could with a little Indian's clothes in her mouth) to ask what was the matter.

"If I've lost one, I'll make sure of the other," the wizard thought; and he seized the boy from his daughter's mouth and plunged down into the pit, leaving his grizzly son to look after himself.

"We must save the boy!" cried the head otter.

"He's not worth saving," said the fishes; "haven't we done enough for one night?"

The otters did not condescend to answer, but swam hotly after the wizard, and the fishes followed without another word, leaving the grizzly to hobble ashore and lick his wounds.

None of the otters had ever dared to descend the wizard's pit before, and none of the fishes had ever ventured within a hundred feet of its mouth; but now the otters' blood was up, and they dived like a flash, and caught up the wizard before he got to the bottom, and fastened on his heels, and dug their teeth into his calves. The wizard flung himself round and gripped an otter in each hand; but they gnawed his wrists till their teeth met in the sinews, and the rest of the otters swarmed round his neck and cut his head right off.

"The boy is drowned, all the same," said the head fish, who swam bravely down into the pit when he heard the otters' scream of victory.

"Not a bit of it," said the head otter; "it's only his badness that's drowned; the boy will be righter than ever if you hurry ashore with him."

So the fishes pushed him up to the air and rolled him ashore; though it was rather difficult, as he had not the sense to hold on, and they had no arms to hold him by.

Meanwhile the otters had gone down to the very bottom of the pit, and bitten through the teacher's cords; and she kissed their wet foreheads and left her dark prison, and the rising sun flung her a rosy welcome as she stepped out on to dry ground. The squinting wolf shut her eyes and howled, and fled into the wood with her tail between her legs.

The eight little Indians were having a fine romp with the little otters when the big otters came back, tired and wounded, but proud with glorious news. As soon as the story was told, the head otter said--"Now, children, it's time to go home, and the fishes are waiting. No going through the woods this time!"

As he spoke, the fishes humped up their great grey backs, and the children took their seats, and the procession never stopped till it came to the little school-house, where the best of all teachers stood smiling welcomes at the door and two shamefaced little Indians pretended to be very busy at their sums inside.

Then there was a great hugging and kissing and laughing and crying for joy, while the little otters turned flying somersaults over the desks and played catch on the grass outside, and the fishes looked on through their water-window, till the children were tired of play and begged for lessons to begin.

TEMPERANCE NOTES AND NEWS.

By a Leading Temperance Advocate.

A MODEL TOWN.

"Could we but do away with intemperance, the conditions of living would become so changed that we should hardly know ourselves," said John Bright on a memorable occasion. What would the country be like without public-houses? We can form some idea of the altered state of affairs by taking a trip to the model town of Bessbrook in the county of Armagh. Here we shall find a thriving, populous community without any public-house or place for the sale of intoxicating liquor. It owes its origin to the philanthropic prescience of the late John Grubb Richardson, a wealthy member of the Society of Friends. In the early 'sixties he purchased an estate of some sixty thousand acres, and there erected the factory which is now world-famed as the Bessbrook Flax Spinning Mills. Approaching the town from Newry, the spinning mills form the most prominent feature in the view. The immense range of lofty buildings is of noble proportions, and for massive elegance compares very favourably with similar erections in the Lancashire and Yorkshire factory districts. When the mills are in full work, occupation is afforded for about five thousand hands. The chief feature of the model town is a handsome square. There are several shops in addition to the co-operative stores, and the houses are well built, varying in size, every family being accommodated with three to six rooms, according to the number of its members. There is an institute with a capital library, a recreation room, a dispensary, excellent schools under the supervision of the National Board of Education, a savings bank, and half-a-dozen places of worship, the respective congregations supporting the current expenses. The sale of intoxicating liquors is entirely prohibited, and, as a consequence, there is not only an absence of drunkenness, but a general freedom from the legion of evils which seem inseparable from the liquor traffic. There is no resident police officer, and it is only quite recently that there has been any police perambulation of the model town, this latter being due more to political disturbances in the near neighbourhood than to any outbreak of crime on the part of the inhabitants of Bessbrook itself. The North of Ireland thus furnishes an excellent example of how to make the working classes thrifty, sober, industrious, happy and prosperous.

A VILLAGE EXPERIMENT.

The Rev. W. E. Bolland, M.A., vicar of Embleton, Northumberland, has, in conjunction with some friends, launched a scheme for a model club and hall for the village. The plan contains some novel features, inasmuch as it embraces a working men's club, a public hall available for meetings, entertainments, etc.; a café and refreshment rooms, specially catering for cyclists and visitors; bedrooms for summer visitors, and also a public laundry. The catering will exclude the provision of intoxicants, and it will be seen from the illustration that the architect has planned a very attractive looking house. This village scheme will be closely watched, and, if it should succeed, there can be no doubt that the enterprising vicar of Embleton will have many followers.

THE BLUECOAT BOYS.

In a very short time London will be deprived of one of its most picturesque sights--namely, the tramp of its seven hundred or more Bluecoat boys to the Mansion House on Easter Tuesday to pay their respects to the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress, and receive a monetary gift, and a bun and a glass of wine. The Grecians are given a sovereign and a shilling each; the junior Grecians a half-sovereign and a sixpence; the monitors half-a-crown; and the other boys a shilling each. The removal of this famous school to the country will possibly put an end to the function. The glass of wine has become a diminishing quantity in recent years; for, thanks to the activity of a friend at court, lemonade was introduced as an alternative a few years back, and now the teetotal boys have no hesitation in availing themselves of this beverage. The preacher of the Spital sermon this year is to be a life-long abstainer, the Bishop of Carlisle.

COMING EVENTS.

The programmes for the May meetings are now nearing completion. The Church of England Temperance Society announces as speakers the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Chichester, the Bishop of Thetford, and the Rev. Dr. Ridgeway; the National Temperance League relies upon the Archbishop of Canterbury, Mr. T. W. Russell, M.P., Mr. John Colville, M.P., the Rev. George Hanson, B.D., and Miss Agnes Weston; while Sir George Williams will preside for the United Kingdom Band of Hope Union. The annual meetings of the Scottish Temperance League will be held in Glasgow on April 17th; the annual meeting of the Sussex Band of Hope Union will take place at Lewes on April 26th; a social meeting of the Young Men's Auxiliary of the National Temperance League will be held in Sion College on April 21st; the Hackney and East Middlesex Band of Hope Union will give a reception in honour of its new President, the Dowager Countess of Errol, on April 20th. The usual open-air demonstrations in the London parks, promoted by the United Temperance Council will take place on Saturday, June 17th. The Rev. F. B. Meyer will preach the annual sermon of the Congregational Total Abstinence Society. The Archbishop of Canterbury and Mrs. Temple will give a Garden Party at Lambeth Palace on July 1st to meet the official advocates of the temperance movement. The Norwich Diocesan temperance anniversary will be held at Norwich from October 17th to October 24th inclusive.

TOTAL ABSTAINING BISHOPS.

A few weeks ago the Lord Bishop of Llandaff agreeably surprised the temperance workers of Cardiff by announcing that he had definitely decided to try total abstinence. It may not be generally known that the Right Rev. H. J. Foss, who has recently been consecrated Bishop of Osaka, is an abstainer, and has been an active temperance worker during the whole of his twenty years' residence in Japan. The Bishop of Islington and the Bishop of Southampton are also total abstainers.

THE FIRST TEMPERANCE HALL IN THE WORLD.

The city of Bradford claims to possess the first Temperance Hall in the world. The foundation stone was laid on Monday, March 13th, 1837, and the building was opened on February 27th, 1838, by the Bishop of Ripon, Dr. Longley (who in succession became Bishop of Durham, Archbishop of York, and Archbishop of Canterbury). This famous building is still in regular use, the Bradford Temperance Society being one of the most vigorous associations in the country. A unique feature of the hall is a very handsome painted window in memory of the late John Priestman. It is a four-light window, and contains four female figures robed in mediæval costumes, and representing "Religion," "Temperance," "Health," and "Prosperity." Above the central light is an effective portrait of Mr. Priestman. Mr. George Field in his interesting "Historical Survey of the Bradford Temperance Society," says:--

"The hall of this, the first temperance society in England, has been a battle-field for many conflicts with drink, and some of the greatest orators have made its walls re-echo with their oratory. It has had amongst its friends and workers some of the best men and women of Bradford. By its agency many a degraded sot has been rescued and restored to respectability in society, but while the curse of drink remains the work will have to go on."

SCRIPTURE LESSONS FOR SCHOOL & HOME INTERNATIONAL SERIES

With Illustrative Anecdotes and References.

APRIL 16TH.--=Jesus Teaching Humility.=

_To read--St. John xiii. 1-17. Golden Text--Ver. 15._

So far have had Christ's _active_ life coupled with His teachings. Come now to His _passive_ life just before the close. To-day's lesson--a sort of active parable--teaching His giving up Himself for man.

=I. The Washing= (1-11). _The time._ Just before Christ's last Passover. Supper being "at hand" (Revised Version); washing taking place before a meal (St. Mark vii. 3). Always known as the "Last Supper" or Passover Feast. His "hour" for showing Himself fully as the Saviour was now come.

_The cause_ (ver. 1). Love passing all knowledge (Eph. iii. 19). Shown by its _greatness_--loved to the uttermost; its _comprehensiveness_--including even Judas; its _lowliness_--doing a servant's work.

_The act._ Disciples began to dispute which should be the greatest (St. Luke xxii. 24). Christ shows by His action what His opinion is. The greatest in His kingdom are they who serve most. Takes towel, water, basin; washes feet of each in turn. Who declines to accept the act of service? But unless Peter submits to Christ, can have no part with Him. He dreads separation from Him, therefore is eager now to be wholly washed. Christ tells him two things--

(_a_) He cannot understand meaning of this act but will hereafter--will add to his faith, virtue (or valour), and knowledge (2 Pet. i. 3).

(_b_) He who is washed, _i.e._ bathed (Greek), in Christ's atoning blood (Zech. xiii. 1) needs only to "wash" or be washed from daily sin to be kept clean and holy.

=II. The Meaning= (12-17). _Equality_ in Christ's service. He is their Master, but delights to serve them. Followers must copy His example.

_Service._ The spirit of His example to be followed--feeding hungry, teaching ignorant, visiting the sick and sad (St. Matt. xxv. 35, 36).

_Knowledge._ Life's mysteries to be cleared up hereafter. Duties now, rewards future.

=Lesson.= Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?

Kindness to the Poor.

The great general, Sir William Napier, once met a little girl in a country lane sobbing over a broken bowl. She had dropped it after taking her father's dinner, and expected to be beaten for her carelessness. Suddenly a gleam of hope seemed to cheer her. "You can mend it, sir," she said, "can't you?" Sir William explained that he could not mend it, but could give her sixpence to buy another. It chanced, however, that he had no money with him, so he promised to meet her at the same time and place the next day with a sixpence. On his return home, he found an invitation to dinner the next day to meet someone whom he specially wished to see. What was he to do? He could not do both; but the child had trusted him. He must do his duty to the poor before thinking of his own pleasure. So he declined the invitation and helped, as he had promised, Christ's little one.

APRIL 23RD.--=Jesus the Way, Truth, and Life.=

_To read--St. John xiv. 1-14. Golden Text--Ver. 6._

Discourse with disciples at Last Supper continued. Peter, boasting of his steadfastness, been warned of his coming fall, that very night (xiii. 38), but comforted by thought of heaven to all who come to God by Him for pardon.

=I. The Many Mansions.= What they are? Abiding places (Greek). This world passes away--heaven endures. They are many in number--room for all. Also prepared by Christ for all who believe in Him. Christ by His death opened heaven to man, and waits there to receive His people.

=II. The Way to Heaven= (4-7). _Christ the Way._ Came to reveal this. None else could make atonement. God's holy Son alone could, by dying for sin, open way to heaven for sinners. He alone lifted up, gives eternal life (iii. 14, 15).

_Christ the Truth._ Yet charged that night with blasphemy, worst of all falsehoods, making Himself God (xix. 7). Yet was the perfect truth. Exposed hypocrisy of chief priests, hollowness of Scribes and Pharisees (St. Luke xi. 39, 44). Taught the spirit of the commandments in Sermon on Mount (St. Matt. v. 21, 22, 28, 39, etc.). Acted truth in His own perfect life. Taught God's truth to men.

_Christ the Life_, though put to death day following. Author of life; the world made by Him. Gave natural life once more to three dead persons. Gave spiritual life to Nicodemus, who became disciple; Samaritan who accepted His teaching (iv. 42). Raised Himself from the dead, and gives eternal life to as many as believe.

=Lesson.= He that believeth in Me shall not die.

=III. The Father Revealed= (8-14). Cannot be seen by mortal eye (i. 18), but is seen in person of His Son. Christ reveals the person of the Father full of love and pity to those in need; full of anger against hypocrites, liars, etc. (viii. 44). Christ also reveals works of God, miracles of mercy. Same, and even greater, power of working miracles promised to His disciples after His departure. Also answers to prayer made to the Father in His name.

So the revelation of the Father shows Him as a loving Person, a Giver of power, a Hearer of prayer. What more can Philip need?

=Lesson.= "Thou art coming to a King, Large petitions with thee bring."

"Is that All?"

A wounded soldier in a hospital was visited by a clergyman, who saw that his life was fast ebbing out. "Young man," said he, "you are soon to die; are you saved from sin?" "No, sir," was the reply; "what must I do?" "'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.'" "Say that again," said the soldier. It was repeated. Steadily looking at the minister, the soldier said, "Is that all?" "Yes, that is all. No man goeth to the Father but by Him." Closing his eyes for a few moments, the young soldier opened them again and, raising his right hand, exclaimed, "Lord Jesus, I surrender." Instantly his face shone with brightness, and in a few days the new-born soul went home to God.

APRIL 30TH.--=The Comforter Promised.=

_To read--St. John xiv. 15-27. Golden Text--Ver. 16._

Christ continues to comfort and teach His disciples ready for the time when He must leave them.

=I. The Comforter= (15-17). See the order in the spiritual life. First faith to believe in Him (ver. 1), then love to cling to Him, then obedience to work for Him. He will help them. He must leave them, but will not forget them. Will send Another to be with them always--the Comforter.

_His person._ Divine in nature; equal to the Father and Son (Acts v. 3, 4).

_His name._ Holy Ghost, or Holy Spirit of God.

_His work._ To aid Christ's people. How does He do so? By helping their prayers (Rom. viii. 26). By giving counsel, _e.g._ showing how to speak to adversaries (St. Matt. x. 19, 20), of which Stephen is an example (Acts vi. 10). By strengthening their souls to do right; hence called the Comforter or Strengthener. Also by revealing the things of God.

=11. The Result= (18-27). Consolations of Christ's people. _Comfort_ by His continual presence. _Life_ present and future because of union with Him.

=Lessons.= 1. Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace.

2. If any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of His.

MAY 7TH.--=The Vine and the Branches.=

_To read--St. John xv. 1-16. Golden Text--Ver. 5._

This parable one of two only in this Gospel. Spoken in court of Temple after leaving Passover Feast.

=I. The Parable= (1-8). _The Vine_ itself must be good and true, planted in soil prepared for it. Husbandman places, cares for, and watches over it. Unfruitful branches must be cut off, fruitful ones purged--to produce more fruit--dead ones burned. Much fruit redounds to glory of husbandman.

_The meaning._ Christ Himself is the true ideal Vine, doing always such things as please God. The husbandman is God, who placed Him in the world (iii. 16) and watched over Him (St. Matt. iii. 17). The branches are believers joined to Him by living faith. Fruit--the graces of a Christian life.

What are results of union with Christ the Vine? _Life_ to the soul from life of Christ. _Fruit_ outward result of inward life. _Answers_ to prayer. Christ and His people alike heard. _Glory_ to God the Father.

=II. Results of Union= (9-16). Metaphor dropped. Christ urges disciples to continue in His love. Then they will have _full joy_; _love_ to all arising from love to Him; _friendship_ of Christ as evidenced by His death for them; _knowledge_ because of revelation of Father. _Permanence_ of results.

=Lesson.= Are we truly joined to Christ? What fruit is seen in our lives?

Joy through Faith.

Bunyan, in "The Pilgrim's Progress," pictures Christiana as saying to Mercy, "What was the matter that you did laugh in your sleep last night?" And Mercy said, "But are you sure I laughed?" When she told her dream, Christiana said, "Laugh, ay, well you might to see yourself so well." She laughed because she dreamed that she had been welcomed into glory. To faith this is no dream. Saved by grace, adopted by the Father, united to the Son, taught by the Spirit, we have joy in the soul now and a good hope of glory hereafter.

MAY 14TH.--=Christ Betrayed and Arrested.=

_To read--St. John xviii. 1-14. Golden Text--Is. liii. 3._

Christ's hour now come--has finished teachings--must go forth to die. Path of sorrow to be trod--He does not shrink.

=I. Christ Betrayed= (1-11). _The place._ The garden or olive orchard of Gethsemane. Note that Christ went forth of His own will, knowing all before Him. Also He went not for concealment, but for prayer.

_The band._ Judas, His disciple, their leader. A band of Roman soldiers to prevent a tumult, and officers of the Temple police supplied by chief priests. Also chief priests and elders, and a mixed rabble (St. Luke xxii. 52). All had common hatred of Jesus of Nazareth.

_The incidents._ Jesus comes forth with His three disciples, Peter, James, John. He asks, "Whom seek ye?" Soldiers fall back in surprise. He asks again--they answer. He asks that disciples may go their way. Request granted; He lost none. St. Peter with sword wounds Malchus. Christ heals his ear (St. Luke xxii. 51) and rebukes Peter. Note the forbearance and majesty of Christ; the loving impetuosity of St. Peter; the malice of Judas and the gratified hatred of chief priests.

=II. Christ a Prisoner= (12-14). The soldiers close in. Prisoner bound because of attempt to rescue. The captain secures Christ, leads Him to Annas, chief of priests and president of Jewish Sanhedrim.

=Lessons.= _From Judas._ Beware of covetousness.

_From St. Peter._ The weapons of our warfare are not carnal.

_From Christ._ He loved me and gave Himself for me. What have I given Him?

Christ Loved Best.

A martyr was going to be burned for Christ's sake. His friends brought out his wife and young children, and made them kneel in a long row and ask their father, for their sakes, to deny the faith and live. But as he kissed them one by one he said, "I would do anything for your sakes that I might live with you, but since it is for Christ my Lord's sake, I must tear myself away even from you." So he went to the stake.

NOTES OF CHRISTIAN LIFE AND WORK.

A Remarkable Church Doorway.

Clonfert Cathedral, in County Galway, can boast a very remarkable and ancient doorway, which is regarded as one of the finest specimens of Hiberno-Romanesque work now in existence. The shafts and piers present an astonishing variety of decoration; every inch of its surface has been worked by the sculptor's tool. Above the rounded archway rises a triangular space filled with many carvings, while the archway itself consists of several decorated semicircles, one within the other. Norman and Romanesque porches may be found of grander proportions; but Brash, in his "Ecclesiastical Architecture of Ireland," declares that "in point of design and execution" he had not seen this beautiful porch "excelled by any similar features in these islands," and specially mentions its beauty of design and fertility of invention. The Cathedral itself has had a long and interesting history. It was founded by St. Brendan in the year 558, and suffered greatly from the Danes. It was burnt six times between 744 and 1179, and was plundered thrice between 949 and 1065. In 1541 it was almost destroyed. Repaired by Bishop Wolley in 1664, it was subsequently altered and improved to some extent, but no general work of restoration was done, and consequently it is in great need of repair. To this work Canon McLarney, the present rector of Clonfert, has set his hand. Though small, the building is very beautiful, and is now used as the parish church, the parish of Clonfert being very large and measuring twenty-seven Irish miles in circumference. The work of restoration is proceeding in sections as funds are provided by the public. The chancel has already been restored, and Canon McLarney hopes to collect a thousand pounds to complete the work on the nave. One need not leave the British Isles to see very ancient and interesting structures, and a writer lately said it would be worth a pilgrimage to Connaught to see Clonfert doorway alone.

The Westminster Choir Boys.

Nowhere in England do the trained voices of a choir seem to harmonise more perfectly with the surroundings than in Westminster Abbey. Architecture, as an old German philosopher once described it, is but "frozen music" after all. The noble anthems that rise soaring upwards amongst the fluted columns and giant arches, the hymns of praise that roll through the long aisles seem, as we listen to the sacred music, not only to give thanks to Him who "made the earth so bright," but to Him who gave England such men as lie in the sculptured tombs around us. Not far from the Abbey--some three minutes' walk, in fact, through Dean's Yard--stands a tall, red-brick building. It is the choir school, where live the twenty-four boys of the choir under the headmastership of Mr. Arthur Hore. To gain admission, a boy must be at least eight years of age, possessing a good voice and the knowledge of the rudiments of music; he will also be expected to read and write fairly. His examination on these points will be conducted by the master of the choristers, Sir J. Frederick Bridge, or someone appointed by him. If he passes satisfactorily, he will become a probationer, paying £10 a year towards his expenses; at the end of three years, however, he will become a recognised member of the Abbey choir, and no further charge will be made. The internal arrangements of the choir house are excellent. On the ground floor are the big class-room and the dining-room. To see the youngsters attacking a joint of roast beef is a conclusive proof that the boy who sings like a young seraph is, nevertheless, far from being the wishy-washy individual that he is often represented to be in some poems and sentimental novels. On the second floor is another big class-room containing the school library. Walter Scott is there, and rows of well-thumbed volumes of Henty. Many years ago Princess Alice gave a present of books to the school. For some time they were kept ceremoniously shut up in a glass case. The present headmaster, however, recognising that the kind donor would have strongly objected to such a foolish use being made of the volumes, placed them in the library for general use. On the third floor are the plain, clean dormitories with their rows of little iron beds and the regulation striped rugs over all.

A Chinese Y.M.C.A.

Amid the discouragements which the recent revolution in Pekin has occasioned to those concerned in China's welfare--for the movement in question is manifestly anti-reform, anti-foreign, and consequently anti-Christian--there are many signs that such opposition cannot radically hinder this country's enlightenment. Such a sign is the progress of the Y.M.C.A. movement among Chinese youths, which is assuming considerable importance, especially in connection with mission schools. It was found desirable to invite from America an experienced worker in this department; and though it will be some time before this gentleman can speak Chinese, there is no difficulty in the matter of interpreters, native or foreign. Yesterday in our large Shanghai mission church--says a correspondent--there were gathered 200 Chinese boy-scholars from various mission stations in and near Shanghai, all of whom were either members of the local Y.M.C.A. or willing to join it. Earnest addresses were given and prayers offered, both in English and Chinese, the English addresses being admirably translated by a Christian Chinaman; while the bright hymn-singing of these strong young voices was a delightful sound. At the close of the morning meeting papers were distributed to the boys containing questions to be answered in writing, and a form, of Christian engagement to be signed. At the afternoon service many of these were returned most satisfactorily and intelligently filled in. Such assemblies have recently been held with much interest and zeal, and apparently solid results, at Nanking and other centres of missionary work.

The "Metal Man."

At Tramore, near Waterford, a place where the Atlantic breakers dash with sublime fury against the rocks, there are on one of the headlands three towers, and on the middle one stands what is called "The Metal Man." This is a figure made of metal, and painted to resemble a sailor. With his finger he points to some very dangerous rocks that are to be shunned. There are rocks in life's troublesome sea that are ready to shipwreck the bodies and souls of the young. These we should point out to them with as much diligence as does the metal man when God has saved us from being shipwrecked upon them.

A Saint's Rest.

Richard Baxter was all his long life physically weak, and for fourteen years had scarcely a waking hour free from pain. He felt himself continually "at the door of eternity." At the close of his life he said, "Weakness and pain helped me to study how to die; I am going now to see that for which I have lived and studied." His death was a fitting end to a life of pain and patience--a fulfilment of his own words: "After the rough and tempestuous day we shall at last have the quiet, silent night--light and rest together; the quietness of the night without its gloom."

The Quiver Pictures.

The six beautiful plates which the readers of THE QUIVER have the opportunity of acquiring, and the last coupon for which is contained in this number, are representative examples of the work of some of the most notable exponents of sacred art among modern British painters. The names of Leighton and Millais are now familiar in every household, and great interest attaches to the works from their hands included in this series of pictures. "The Star of Bethlehem," by Lord Leighton, was painted in 1862, when the artist was thirty-two years of age, and four years before his election as Associate of the Royal Academy. The main figure represents one of the magi on the terrace of his house, gazing at the miraculous light which led him and his fellows to search out Him, "who was born King of the Jews." "Christ in the House of His Parents" is one of the most wonderful pictures painted by Sir John Millais. It was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1850, when the artist was but twenty years of age, and, as related in the article on "Pictorial Sermons" in our last number, aroused a storm of discussion among the critics. The work is a veritable parable in paint, and, as its allegories are all fully explained in the article referred to, we need not repeat them here. The picture has great interest, apart from this, as being one of the best specimens of the work of the artist's Pre-Raphaelite period. "Christ Washing Peter's Feet," by Ford Madox Brown, which was presented to the nation by a body of subscribers; and now hangs in the Tate Gallery at Millbank, is a typical painting, and one of the most beautiful examples of this artist's work. Exquisite in colour, it is a perfect specimen of what a picture dealing with a sacred subject should be. Full of reverence and piety, it yet illustrates the subject fully; the rugged figure of the apostle, expressing withal the penitence produced by the rebuking words, "If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with Me," contrasts strongly with the humility of the Master kneeling to His self-imposed task. "The Remorse of Judas," by the late Edward Armitage, R.A., is another picture to be seen at Millbank, and is, perhaps, one of the strongest works produced by this artist. The terror of remorse is expressed in every line of the face of the betrayer, while the cold indifference of the priests, now that their work is accomplished, is admirably portrayed. "The Raising of the Widow's Son of Nain," by W. C. T. Dobson, R.A., was shown at the Academy in 1868, and fully explains itself. The joy of the mother and the surprise of the beholders of the miracle are well rendered; but the main interest of the picture, of course, centres in the boy. His gaze is fixed upon Him whose voice has recalled him from the "valley of the shadow." The last picture of the series, by W. Dyce, R.A., was recently added to the national collection, and was removed from Trafalgar Square to Millbank when the new gallery was completed. It represents the Apostle John taking Mary to his own home after the death of their Lord. Mary carries on her arm the crown of thorns, and in the background may be seen Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who are just leaving the garden which contains the sepulchre. Mary Magdalene and the "other Mary" are seen seated at the mouth of the grave. The picture was painted in 1860.

Public Charity.

According to a recent calculation, the amount given during the previous year by Churchmen towards Christian work of all kinds, such as Church Building, Home Missions, Foreign Missions, Education, etc., was over £5,750,000. The various Presbyterian Churches contributed during the same time for similar work a sum of £1,600,000, and the Wesleyans gave over £500,000; the Calvinistic Methodists about £228,500; the Baptists over £200,000; and the Primitive Methodists over £100,000. Of the Congregationalists and the "Friends" no such statistics are available, and it is estimated that other branches of the Christian Church in England gave an aggregate of not less than £150,000 towards the same work. Generally speaking, all the different bodies contribute in a fairly equal proportion, directly or indirectly, to the different kinds of Christian work--at any rate, sufficiently so for the comparison we wish to make here. So, taking the Church of England's returns as our standard, we find that these proportions are nearly as follows, 1 being our unit:--Church Building and Repairs, 35; Home Missions, 7; Foreign Missions, 10; Educational Work of all kinds, 20; various Charitable Works of other kinds, 6.

_The church_ (1) _represents the money spent in building places of worship._ _The mission room_ (2) " " " _home mission work._ _The native hut_ (3) " " " _foreign mission work._ _The school_ (4) " " " _educational work._ _The hall_ (5) " " " _other general charitable work._

A New Quiver Heroine.

The latest recipient of the Bronze Medal of THE QUIVER Heroes Fund is Annie Healand, a servant in the employ of Mr. Frederick Latham, of Sledmere. On the afternoon of January 28th last, two little boys and a girl were suddenly immersed beneath the ice whilst sliding on a pond. On hearing of this, Annie Healand, who is herself but fifteen years of age, immediately rushed to the rescue, and, plunging in, succeeded in bringing the little girl to the bank. She then endeavoured to find the two boys, who were still under the ice, but was at last reluctantly compelled to give up the search, through being overcome by the intense cold. The bodies of the lads were afterwards found, and the coroner congratulated the brave girl for the very plucky manner in which she had rescued one of the party and attempted to save the others.

International League of Peace.

We are still daily receiving the names of numbers of new members, and one roll of signatures which has just come to hand measures thirty feet in length. Any number of blank forms will be gladly sent, post free, to those requiring them. We may take this opportunity of announcing that the first member to send in a thousand signatures is Mr. John N. Munro, of 50, Park Road, Glasgow, to whom a cheque for Ten Pounds has been sent, in accordance with our offer.

ROLL OF HONOUR FOR SUNDAY-SCHOOL WORKERS.

The =Special Silver Medal= and =Presentation Bible= offered for the longest known Sunday-school service in the county of =Devonshire= (for which applications were invited up to February 28th, 1899) have been gained by

LOUISA JANE LARGE, Cross Street, Northam, Bideford,

who has distinguished herself by =sixty-two= complete years' service in Northam Church Sunday School.

As already announced, the next territorial county for which claims are invited for the Silver Medal is

KENT,

and applications, on the special form, must be received on or before March 30th, 1899. We may add that =Cheshire= is the following county selected, the date-limit for claims in that case being April 30th, 1899. This county, in its turn, will be followed by the territorial county of =Somersetshire=, for which the date will be one month later--viz. May 31st, 1899.

AN INTERESTING LETTER.

The following letter, received from the Devonshire Silver Medallist, of whom particulars are given above, will doubtless be interesting to all our readers, and especially to Sunday school workers:--

"In sending the enclosed certificates I should like to add that I began my career as a Sunday school teacher at the age of ten, with a class of four little girls, and proud enough I was. That was some time in the year 1836. From that date to the present (1899), I have been teaching continuously in the same school, except when occasional illness or absence from home for a few Sundays made a break. I am now teaching the grandchildren of former scholars. Many changes have I seen; such a difference in the teaching and general management of Sunday schools since 1836! Only two or three individuals are now living who were with us when I began my work."

THE QUIVER FUNDS.

The following is a list of contributions received from February 1st, 1899, up to and including February 28th, 1899. Subscriptions received after this date will be acknowledged next month:--

For _"The Quiver" Waifs' Fund_: J. J. E. (135th donation), 5s.; Anglo-Indian, 5s.; M. R. B., Ipswich, 4s. 2d.; C. E. H., 3s. 6d.; A Glasgow Mother (105th donation), 1s.; E. A. W., Petersfield, 2s. 6d.

For _Dr. Barnardo's Homes_: An Irish Girl, £1; E. J. L., Glenageary, 10s.; X. J., 10s. 6d. The following amounts have been sent direct:--A Well-Wisher, £2; Lila Noel, £1; G. C., 8s.; P. P. O., 5s.; Ruth L., £1.

For _The Hospital for Women_: A Thank-Offering, 1s.

For _The Leper's Mission Fund_: Two Jersey QUIVER Readers, 4s. 6d.

THE QUIVER BIBLE CLASS.

(BASED ON THE INTERNATIONAL SCRIPTURE LESSONS.)

QUESTIONS.

61. What did our Lord do as a rebuke to His Apostles when they disputed among themselves as to who should be the greatest?

62. In the discourse at the Last Supper, what did our Lord say is to be the distinctive mark of all His disciples? Quote passage.

63. In what words did Jesus warn St. Peter of the temptation which awaited him?

64. By what promise did our Lord seek to comfort His Apostles on the eve of His crucifixion?

65. Which of the Apostles seems to have been very slow in comprehending the divinity of our Lord?

66. Quote some words from our Lord's answer to St. Philip in which He clearly declares His Godhead?

67. What does our Lord say is the true test of our love to Him?

68. What is the great blessing Christ gives as the result of the influence of the Holy Spirit in our hearts?

69. What is the general purport of our Lord's parable of the Vine?

70. What does our Lord give as the greatest proof of true love?

71. What was the position of the garden of Gethsemane?

72. From what circumstances do we gather that the Jews expected great difficulty in arresting our blessed Lord?

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS ON PAGE 480.

49. In the parable of the Sheepfold our Lord speaks of a porter who had charge of the door, and of a thief climbing over a fence (St. John x. 1-3).

50. St. John x. 9.

51. Our Lord speaks of Himself as the Good Shepherd, who giveth His life for the sheep, while the Jewish teachers, as hirelings, cared not for them (St. John x. 11-14).

52. St. John vii. 15.

53. St. John v. 39.

54. Turning the water into wine and healing the nobleman's son (St. John ii. 1-11 and iv. 46-54).

55. The fact that the body had been buried three days.

56. That it was done to increase the faith of the Apostles by showing them that there was no limitation to the power of Christ (St. John xi. 15).

57. So many Jews believed in Christ that the chief priests thought of killing Lazarus as well as Jesus (St. John xi. 47-53 and xii. 10, 11).

58. Because it would seem that Martha was hostess at the house of Simon the Leper, where Mary, her sister, anointed our Lord with the precious ointment of spikenard (compare St. John xii. 1-3 with St. Mark xiv. 3).

59. St. John tells us that Judas Iscariot acted as treasurer for our Lord and His disciples, but that he was a thief (St. John xii. 6 and xiii. 29).

60. Caiaphas prophesied that Jesus should die (St. John xi. 39).

* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).

Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).

Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.

Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed.

Missing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in the original text.

Mismatched quotes are not fixed if it’s not sufficiently clear where the missing quote should be placed.

The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

The hymns are handwritten on pages 483, 534, 535 and 536. There are handwritten signatures by Arthur H. Brown on page 536, and John Stainer on page 538.

Page 508 and following: The chapter titles in the section "For the Sake of the Child" are in handwritten script.

Page 559: "in the evening--Nos. 500 and 532--and"--the number 500 is unclear.

Page 560: "must be obtained from the office, 36,"--the number 36 is unclear.