the difference between the service of the mere hireling and that of love. When I visited a large public hospital in England, I was told by the matron that the head nurse in each ward received fifty pounds per annum, and the others twenty-five: notwithstanding which they could not always secure such characters as they wished, and were often under the necessity of taking those who had no experience in their calling nor fitness for its duties, while intemperance and swearing were not unknown among them. This appeared less astonishing when it was added that none of the nurses would ever go to church or do anything but toil during the hours appointed for their watch, and sleep during the remaining hours of the day. While I was receiving this information, a child between two and three years old was wandering about in the ward, calling in vain for its mother, and weeping for her absence, while no gentle voice replied to its call, no loving hand soothed it in its sorrow.

Kaiserswerth stood out in strong contrast to this, when I remembered what the deaconesses receive there. They are provided with board and lodging and also their upper dress; all these are simple, what would be considered even poor in our country, but every one seems satisfied where all are on an equality; in addition to this the only payment is from three to four pounds per annum to supply them with under clothing and small personal wants or gifts from the Christmas tree. With this small pecuniary acknowledgment of the services rendered, the pastor at Kaiserswerth, by the addition of Christian principle, has his agents selected from a large number, and they are tried and skilled, and the utmost propriety and correctness of conduct prevails among them. Indeed this is very inadequate language to use, the most refined woman would find nothing to shrink from in associating with them, the most devoted Christian would have her piety warmed by their example and conversation.

Medical skill is not wanting, as a competent non-resident physician visits each ward daily. He is then accompanied by the sister from the laboratory, who takes down his prescriptions. A surgeon is called in when an actual operation is to be performed, but with such trained and intelligent assistants as the deaconesses, nothing more is needed, as they are quite able to assist at the operation and undertake the subsequent dressings. Many deaconesses who have been trained in the parent institution are now in various hospitals in the large towns of Germany, where their services are much prized. The applications made for others are more numerous than can be responded to, while many are sought for by private families in times of severe illness.

Did I wish to give a full account of Kaiserswerth, much might be added on the admirable direction under which it is placed, the wisdom of the subordinate arrangements and the ingenuity with which the different departments are made serviceable to each other, as when the lunatics enjoy a weekly treat on Sunday by the children

of the orphanage coming to sing hymns to them. This is looked forward to on both sides as a great pleasure, and exclusion from it is considered a severe punishment.

Being desirous of ascertaining the motives which had induced the inmates of Kaiserswerth to place themselves there, I made a point of inquiring, where I could do so without intruding. My inquiries were very kindly and frankly answered, and I found that the reasons for joining the sisterhood were various. Some, belonging to the class of household servants, had come merely as a means of gaining their livelihood. But while this had been the only feeling at first, they told me that in the instruction they received, they had found far more than they had sought, and they blessed the day that had brought them into such a Christian community. Others, finding nothing in the pleasures of the world to satisfy their higher natures, had come with their hearts inflamed with a love of holiness, and desirous of following Christ by "doing good." It is true that this may be done, as is often beautifully exemplified, without retiring to Kaiserswerth, but many are ready to work who cannot carve out a line of action for themselves, and are glad to place themselves under direction. Many, too, are weak and wavering when they stand alone among conflicting opinions; they need to be encouraged in their course, and thankfully go where they can find sympathy of feeling and fellow-workers in their labor. Among them, while yet babes in Christ, they are nurtured, until they reach the stature of the perfect man in Christ, when they either remain to train up other young disciples or return to ordinary life, knowing now, by their own experience, that "to be spiritually minded is life and peace," and having put on the whole armour of God, they are able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all to stand."

66

A third section among the deaconesses or probationers had become such in consequence of bereavements which had left them without family ties; desolate and solitary, they gladly turned where mothers or sisters or children by adoption were ready to fill the aching void in their hearts. Others, again, there were, who sought to find in offices of charity a compensation for disappointed affections, and they did not seek in vain, for while they ministered to others they were themselves ministered unto. Occupied with others, they forgot themselves; instead of dwelling on their own trials until bitter thoughts of all their fellow-creatures had replaced the generous feelings with which they had entered life, until illness wasted away their frame, or until reason either tottered on its throne or became a melancholy ruin, the necessity for action preserved their health, both physical and mental. The opportunities for retirement, too, were like balm to the wounded heart, which would have sickened in the daily intercourse of ordinary life; and the bright examples of Christianity presented to them either by word or deed, directed their minds to a more sure and stable resting-place than earth can ever give.

I have thus endeavored to give an impartial and correct account of Kaiserswerth, its inmates, and their duties, in the hope that it may arrest the attention of some who feel that a similar institution would flourish in Britain. The life of man and his affections are the same everywhere. If many sad instances occur in Germany, Prussia, and France, of blasted hopes and desolated hearts, they are not less numerous in England, Ireland, and Scotland. If "young christians" elsewhere need encouragement from others more experienced, and fellowship from those who have known their difficulties, so do they here. If the continent of Europe has women who desire to lay up treasures, not on earth but in heaven, who would sell all to purchase the "pearl of great price," and who are seeking "first the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and can leave it to Him to add all other needful things, surely such are not wanting in our island homes. If then a Kaiserswerth has been welcomed and abundantly supported in Germany, and sister institutions have sprung up elsewhere, why should none exist among us, where they would equally be a blessing to those within their walls, and to all beyond who might come into connection with them?

XVI. THE RIVER THAMES.

STREAMS there may be proudly rushing,
Like an arrow from a bow,

Tender flower and hard rock crushing,
Onward to their aim that go.
Other streams that stately roll,
Like a world-compelling soul,
Bearing on their mighty waves,
With a proud relentless sway,
All that would impede their way
To the silent ocean caves.

Not of these art thou, sweet river;
Oft delaying, oft returning,

We might think thy waves were yearning,

Loth to leave the banks for ever

Where their happy youth had been,

Loth to leave each homely scene

Of this pleasant English life.

VOL. III.

Sometimes underneath the willows,
Where the speedwell flowers are rife,
We may see thee stay thy billows:
Sometimes, in a glassy pool,
Let the lilies spread their cool
Broad leaves, till they almost hide
The waters that beneath them glide;
Thence, in rippling waves outgushing,
Through the mill in sheets of foam,
Dost thou hasten, panting, rushing:-
Then calmly by some cottage home
Windest slowly, elms and beeches
Shading with their boughs thy reaches;
While rich reflections, brown and green,
With sparkling lights of sky between,
Lead the eye many a fathom deep,
Into a world that seems to sleep
Beneath the actual,-but a breeze
Shivers the picture-gone are trees
And sky and cloud; a ripple bright
Has gem'd thy stream with darts of light.

Best loved of Rivers! From the West,
From hills where sweet yet sad thoughts rest,
Thou flowest Eastward, onward ever,
With an earnest, calm endeavor.
Thou hast learnt to wait and yield,
Sometimes bending back thy course
To linger round the barley field,
The reapers with thy murmur cheering,
Sometimes with a gentle force

Through the reeds a passage clearing ;
Never weary, never fearing.

Who that has floated down thy stream
But longed for ever there to dream;
Forgetting all the cares of life,
Its woe, its pleasures, and its strife?
But not for us, and not for thee,
Sweet river, can such portion be.
A little while the swan may glide
In double beauty down thy tide;
A little while the fisher's boat
Dreamily on thy breast may float;
But thou must bear the barge's freight,
And we of care the heavier weight:
Thy trembling waves shall pant and reel
Beneath the steamer's angry wheel:
Silent woods and breezy down
Are left behind, the busy town
Is mirror'd in thy stream, and thou
With the crowd must mingle now.
Smoking factories throng thy side,
And streams of deep pollution pour;
Wider spreads thy ample tide,
But darker rolling evermore.
Dome, and tower, and temple rise,
And bridges each a bridge of sighs-
Sweep across from shore to shore.

I

Boats and barges line the strand,
Ships in serried ranks are there,
With masts that like a forest stand,
When Winter strips it bare.

From East and West upon thy tide
Their wealth the nations pour;
And deeper roll thy waves of pride,
And wider spreads thy shore.
But, ah! thy waters, once so pure,
Are dark with troubled streams.
Can innocence no more endure
Where knowledge sheds her beams?
A better hope, thou noble river,
Shall thy redemption win ;-
A better hope the bond must shiver,
Would knowledge link with sin.

River! there comes a day when thou
Shalt through the crowded city flow
Pure as when from the grassy hill
Thy waters gush'd, a limpid rill.
And, oh! there surely comes a time
When Love and Truth shall conquer Crime:
When sorrow heal'd, and wrong forgiven,
This Earth shall be the porch to Heaven.

J. B. S.

XVII. SUCCESS AND FAILURE.

CHAPTER I.

Two men sat together in a small room in London. They had been friends in childhood, companions at Eton, chums at college. Widely contrasted in character and prospects, they were nevertheless destined to be often thrown together in the game of life.

On this particular evening, the youngest of the two was on the point of leaving England. He had been made private secretary to a minister at a foreign court. The elder was a student and a scholar; both were authors. The younger had written with great success poems, novels, and political pamphlets. The elder had written a poem, which by the public generally was little known and little read, though highly admired and appreciated by a few discerning critics. To Wyndham Elliott this was a matter of great indifference. He had written for an express purpose, which it seemed to him he had fulfilled, and he was satisfied. The small number of copies which had been sold of this poem, was a matter of jest between him and his friend Arthur Powys.

66

"It matters little," said he, I have fulfilled what I wished. The target may be invisible to your eyes, but I see that my arrow has reached it."

"I think, my dear fellow," replied Arthur, "that invisible