(Report, 1872, p. 12.) Still further is our curiosity excited about those "two-thirds" when we study over the various reports from 1867 to 1873.

The compilers assert, with much sentimentality, "Many a soul, about yielding to that fatal recklessness consequent upon sin, has been saved by some kindly prayer, offered in his behalf, or the recital of the wondrous story of Jesus' love." But how are the Refuge boys taught to look upon this "wondrous story?" The wondrous story, if told of Jesus as a mere man, would amount to very little. How do our friends, the Hicksite Quakers, look upon Christ? Do they not deny His divinity? Still our guide informs us that "even Hicksite Quakers " had been allowed to talk about this "wondrous story" to children, two-thirds of whom are reputed the offspring of Irish parents.

The assistant superintendent allowed himself to remark that Catholic children would be allowed to confess "in case of danger of death," but that under other circumstances "it was not practicable." Catholics, said he, would not consent to teach on the "broad ground of morality," hence they were neither allowed nor invited to instruct on Sundays.

Another reason given by the superintendent why Catholic priests were not invited to instruct Catholic children in this Refuge, is that they (the priests) "would not preach, except in a blessed pulpit." We are almost inclined to believe this gentleman, who asserted that this guide did not know what he had been talking about, is equally at sea about Catholicity. Catholic priests would not teach in an unblessed pulpit! Did not the saintly Timon preach in a Masonic hall in Texas; the courtly Cheverus in a Protestant chapel in Massachusetts, and the learned England in VOL. V.-4

his neighbor's conventicle in Charleston? Shame on those who try to cover their injustice to Catholic children under such groundless ex

cuses.

The godless, broad-ground morality which this Refuge gives, is fully nurtured by the nature of the books kept in the "well-selected library." We shall not pollute these pages by even mentioning names; the managers have been called upon for a list of these books, which we were inclined to think were at first merely historical or moral. But we have since seen that a goodly portion of them consists of paltry novels, and a class of books in which "Almost a Nun " and "Fox's Book of Martyrs." may be taken as specimens. We would not even object so much that these should be used to fill up, were it not that the "Report" assures us, free access may be had by all the inmates able to read. There may be some consolation derived from the assertion of our guide that "the library is very little used." There is hope for these poor lads yet; their good sense in not using such trash proves their superiority to their keepers, who give it as their opinion that the library is very "select."

How then, in the face of such facts can the managers make such a flourish of trumpets, as we find in the following:

"The large room heretofore occupied by Messrs. Barnhurst & Robinson, as a shop, has been converted into a boy's reading-room. This room, though not yet furnished, is cheerful and commodious, and supplies a want, in connection with our accommodations, which we have long felt, particularly dur ing the inclement seasons of the year. We hope soon to occupy this reading-room, and to make such arrangements as will serve to increase, in our youth, a love for the companionship of good books.

A love for good books cannot be too deeply impressed nor too highly appreciated. Though silent, they are powerful educators-human elevators. Their very silence adds force to their argument and power to their persuasive demonstration. The companionship of good books like the dews of heaven falling silently by night, refresh* and invigorate. By them the mental powers are strengthened, latent thought kindled, and noble aspirations evolved. In this connection let me say, we are greatly indebted to those friends of the institution who furnish us so liberally with periodicals, both secular and religi

ous.

And we offer them this assurance, their gifts are gratefully appreciated, carefully read, and preserved in volumes, bound by the officers; they make as valuable and attractive additions to the libraries as any found on the shelves of the publisher. (How complimentary to the publisher's shelves!) The school committee has supplied a number of well-selected books during the year. The plan of supplying deficiencies -resulting from wear and teareach year, instead of allowing the libraries to run down, is the proper one, and we are indebted to the committee for the benefit of this plan." (Report, 1872, p. 34 et seq.)

The Refuge library-books resemble in one respect, perhaps, the Refuge managers their effect is silent, but all the more dangerous on that account.

Perhaps we are not doing the institution all the justice we should, Then we must blame our guide, who more than once requested us to "hurry up, as visitors were not generally allowed more than twenty minutes," to examine for themselves.

Among the donations of books and periodicals acknowledged, and therefore approved, we find in 1871:

Did the teacher of grammar review this paragraph?

Henry Peterson, Esq., Saturday Evening Post; American Tract Society, Illustrated Christian Weekly; A. M. Collins, Esq., twelve numbers of the London Sunday Magazine.

"We are indebted to Charles Wheeler, Esq., and other benevolent gentlemen, for a full supply of different Sunday-school papers (1869).

The supply must have been full which precluded all popish papers, these not being approved by the committee, and by such action prevented more than half the inmates from learning anything of the doings of their church or its ministers. They may read "Fox's Book of Martyrs," but we are sure they would not be allowed "Butler's Lives of the Saints," or "The Young Crusader," or "The Little Schoolmate," "The Young Catholic," or any other equally interesting Catholic magazines or serials. These would keep up bigotry, say the managers, and broad-ground, or broad-brimmed morality is what our Catholic wards must learn.

Lest we should be considered as meaning to misconstrue the religious aspect of the Refuge, we will introduce paragraphs from various Reports, making comment wherever called for:

"The great truths of our holy religion are imparted to our youthful family, without sectarian bias." (Report, 1869, p. 9.)

What is meant by "our holy rebias," or does Mr. Barclay's conHas it no ligion?" "sectarian sist merely of the "broad ground of morality?"

"The clergy of different denominations, and other kind friends, officiate in the chapels twice on Sunday. To them the managers return their thanks, for their gratuitous labors of love."

Are Catholics then not a "de-nomination?" We know we are

for indenturing our children to the farming business, than the West presents. It has some peculiar advantages. The lad is at once removed from all those evil associations which led to his treading the path of error. He is in a new country, and feels all the nerving influences of a new life. The panorama of existence without a shadow spreads before him; he realizes that the past is no shackle to hinder his onward progress, and that he can truly become the architect of his own fortune. In the West he has a chance to arrive rapidly to competency, to become a landed proprietor himself, which upon our thickly settled Atlantic coast is extremely problematical." (Report, 1872, p. 25, et seq.)

It would be an interesting question, could such be followed up, to ascertain how many of these apprentices were given to Catholic farmers. We will not ask the managers to answer it, for their horror of everything Catholic necessarily renders their action very decided in such

cases.

One would imagine a certain league between the uncouth conductors of our street cars, and the managers of the Refuge, both are so hard on the newsboys, as may be inferred from this paragraph:

"Many of the boys committed here have been employed in blackening boots and selling papers. They are generally the children of worthless and intemperate parents. They frequently set aside all parental authority, and continue their business without responsibility to any one. Their life of a street gamin has peculiar charms for them, and thus it is they refuse the position of honest toil. Satisfied if they can earn or steal enough to procure their food, and any apology for clothing, they live on from day to day. Nightly they visit the galleries of the lowest places of amuse

ment, and readily pick up all the ribaldry and obscenity prevalent there. They sleep anywhere, in cellars, sheds, boxes, or in the warm basements of newspaper offices. Every day we read of their deeds of crime, of stealing, of picking pockets, of robbery, and as they grow up into a stronger life, of burglary and highway robbery. If arrested and confined, they vitiate the minds of their associates with tales of their wild and irregular life, and as soon as they are free, return to it again with a renewed zest.

"This business should be under proper municipal regulation, permitting none over sixteen years of age to engage in it, and those under only by special license based upon evidences of good character. That pate this gang of incipient crimisomething should be done to dissinals, seems to be a public necessity." (Report, 1872, p. 25, et seq.).

There is advice for our Common Councilmen. Would it not be better to have a law framed that every wife or maid-servant should polish her husband's or her master's shoes? This would be a more effective stop to the nefarious business of this gang of incipient criminals than the remedy proposed by the sages of the Refuge. The managers surely do not mean to say that it is less dangerous for those under sixteen than for those above that age. We freely admit, though that the Refuge is not the place to reform such lads, since as soon as they are free they return to their wild life "with a renewed zest."

But we are tired of dealing with an institution so un-American, in the city where the breath of Americanism first had legal existence; we must allow this home of bigoted intolerance to live on in the land where religious liberty is proclaimed to all; we must permit Catholics to slumber while these wolves in sheep's clothing devour the souls of

thousands who are brought up in this Refuge, either to forget their faith or to deny that they ever held it. Let Catholics remember that they are to blame in great part for this unwarranted state of affairs. Our share of the work has been done for the present. In waiting for better days for our Catholic waifs,

we can only pray to God that in His mercy He may look down upon and protect those whom Catholics fail to watch over, and Protestants eagerly seize upon as choice victims for that bouse of perversion so near the Infidel College,* whose plan it so closely follows.

I.

THIS was how I found it out.

Lettie and I were sitting in the

window at our work-it was some mourning we were making and it had to be sent home the next day early. She said, "Jane, it seems as if the sun had given up shining; how dull everything looks! don't you think so?"

I did not notice it; there was still an hour's daylight. She put up her hand to her forehead as if it pained her, so I bade her go out for a turn in the garden; we had sat close to our sewing all the day, and the young thing was tired; even I was, and my eyes ached wearily. She went along by the flower-bed, and gathered a few roses-we were in the middle of July then-and gave them to me through the window, saying that she would go down into the town for some trimmings we wanted to finish the dresses. I would rather she had stayed at home, and replied that the shops would be shut; but she was not listening, and went away down the path as I spoke. It was dusk when she came back; I had just shut the window, and was lighting my candle; she said, "I could not get the fringe, Jane," and then laying her bonnet on the dresser, took up her work.

My work fell to the ground, and I uttered a startled cry.

"Don't take on about it, Jane; it can't be helped," she added.

"It is only a fancy of yours, Lettie; I shall have you to Doctor Nash in the morning. What has made you take such a notion into your head all at once," said I, for I thought this was another nervous whim. Lettie had been a good deal indulged by our mother before she died, and had shown herself not a little headstrong sometimes, as well as fanciful.

"It is of no use, Jane; I have been to Doctor Nash myself, and he said plainly that I was going

blind. I have been to him twice before: I knew what was coming. Oh, Janey! what shall we do?

* Girard.