drawing his hand from the pocket, pre- | declined to give a living, of which he was

sented to the dismayed examiner the photograph of a young lady!

This it was which had been his hidden source of inspiration. This had been the secret of his ever-freshened energy. Very humbly and sincerely did the examiner offer his apologies, as he returned crestfallen to his seat; and it gives the finishing touch to the story to learn that the candi date married that young lady in due time, and that they are now living happily together in the enjoyment of the blessings of their faithful love, so rudely tested and discovered.

the patron, to a clergyman who was in all respects the most desirable man to hold it, simply on the ground that he wore a beard. "One of my clerks," he added, "asked me the other day if I had any objection to his wearing a beard, and I answered that I had no objection whatever, so long as he did not wear it in office hours. I have just the same feeling as regards the clergy.'

I heard an old friend of my rector preach once such a quaint old sermon, in the course of which he quoted Adam's excuse: "The woman tempted me and I did eat." At the unmanliness of such a plea the old gentleman waxed very angry, and leaning forward in the pulpit he shook his finger, scornfully exclaiming, "Oh, Adam, Adam, shame to lay it on a woman

Very different are ordination examinations now from what they used to be in former days, when in one diocese the bishop's chaplain was distinguished chiefly as a cricketer, and was known to consider it sufficient if he examined the candidates between the innings. Even within the last twenty years the system has been In the rectory afterwards the two old much improved, and chiefly in the direc- rectors kept us all entranced till very late, tion of insuring sufficient time for the capping one another's stories. It was on candidates to be prepared devotionally for that occasion our rector told us, with a the solemn profession they are about to graphic power which I cannot attempt to enter. It is hard to believe that within reproduce, a most delightful story of his comparatively recent times none of the father. He had been a very distinguished candidates were informed whether they Royal Academician, and as an artist had had passed or not until a day or two be-acquired great popularity. He was at the fore the ordination, whereas now they same time a pious man and a very regular know for several weeks beforehand. To and devout attendant at the Church's serkeep them in a state of uncertainty fre- vices. He was once sitting in a London quently produced ridiculous results. A church on a Sunday evening amidst a candidate, for instance, would be exam- crowded congregation who had come toined, wearing a moustache which he al-gether to hear a sermon from a muchlowed to grow up to the last instant, admired preacher of the day. His seat hesitating to make that last sacrifice while was immediately under the pulpit, and he there was any doubt as to its necessity; sat and listened quietly with rapt attennor was any candidate quite comfortable tion. Something caused him however to in giving orders for his clothes, which turn his head, and he saw to his surprise after all he was not certain that he might a friend of his gazing at him earnestly, require. In those days however the cler-and looking as if something had excited ical dress was not so distinctive as at him. This appeared strange, and yet he present, and was very much limited to a tried not to think of it, but, raising his certain cut of waistcoat, which varied with eyes to the preacher, he again turned his the sentiments of the wearer. I remember attention to the sermon. He could not when I consulted my tailor at Oxford on resist however from stealing a glance at the subject, he said, "I hope, sir, you'll his friend after a time, when with inexcuse the liberty I take, but if I were creased surprise he saw that he not only you, sir, I wouldn't put myself into a liv- was still gazing intently at him, but actu ery." The fashions of wearing beards or ally from time to time stood up and shaving have, as it is well known, varied stretched out a hand towards him, and absurdly being alternately praised or then again sat down. This made him feel blamed by bishops, in accordance with uncomfortable, and yet at such a time he prevailing ideas. At one time it was tried not to let it occupy his thoughts, but thought by the episcopal bench that shav-once more gave his mind to the words of ing was effeminate, whilst twenty years ago they tried by threats to enforce the I have been told by the head of a large mercantile London house that he

razor.

the great preacher above his head. Yet, try as he might, it was impossible not to think of the strange behavior of his friend, and so presently he permitted himself to

look again. Then, to his alarm and horror, he saw his friend stand up, and with eyes fixed upon him and outstretched hand, walk deliberately across the church towards him, until at last he actually felt himself struck by two or three distinct and deliberate taps upon his head, after which his friend returned to his seat and appeared to regain his composure, whilst he himself had lost all his. What was the meaning of it? What must the congregation think? Could his friend have suspected him of being asleep and have thought it his duty to awaken him? His friend was a good and serious man, and quite incapable of playing any practical joke. There was nothing for it but to await patiently the conclusion of the sermon, and then to obtain an explanation. Miserable appeared that interval, and it seemed as if the sermon never would end. Its eloquence had no longer any charms for him. He longed only that it might end, that he might be set free from his anxiety and regain his self-esteem. At last the wished-for moment came. His friend advanced to meet him, saying, "I fear you must have thought my action very strange just now." "I did indeed," he replied. "Did you really think I was asleep?" "No, no," said his friend, "not that; but a spark from one of the pulpit candles dropped upon your wig, and began to burn. I saw it, and at first thought you might catch fire; but then it seemed to go out. Several times I was in doubt whether to disturb you and the congregation or not, and I avoided doing so as long as it was possible, but at last the flame burnt up so clearly I felt I had no choice, so I came across and extinguished it with my hand."

in which the Church of Rome separates its members from the liberty and truth which happily prevail elsewhere in England; and his poem appealed strongly to Englishmen to guard themselves against the rising powers of Rome. When this poem appeared one of the masters asked the boy whether he had read it, and what he thought of it. The boy replied that he thought Mr. Moultrie was mistaken in taking offence at a fence, and returning railing for railing. The rector was very much pained at my repeating this, and he did not hesitate on any occasion, however public, to express his objection to such jokes, which many would consider harmless enough. I have known him, at a large clerical meeting, first compel the vicar of a large parish to repeat a joke he had not quite heard, and then sternly rebuke him for it.

In church we were assisted by the parish clerk, who was one of the clerks of the old sort now rapidly becoming extinct, and therefore very precious. He used to smell of rhubarb, as he slept in the lowest receptacle of the three-decker, during our long sermons. During the service he was, as occasion required, very locomotive, walking about the church and saying the responses as he went. One never could tell from what corner an amen might not be nasally intoned as he opened or shut windows. Before the sermon he ascended into the pulpit, and there by the help of very imperfect matches he used to light the candles. The process was a very trying one for the congregation, as the matches were usually very damp, and the clerk was old and awkward. I have seen him three times running upset candles upon the head of a young clergyman in the reading-desk, who was officiating for the first time after his ordination. The patience with which the young man bore the succession of falling candles on his I remember once his rebuking me with head was most exemplary, but the scene great severity for using words which I was highly ludicrous. Those old clerks certainly never intended or thought to be were certainly sometimes very funny, and profane. A lady asked me if I had been we shall never see their like again. A acquainted with a friend of hers, and I clerical friend of mine told me that when answered that he had been always known he first entered on the duties of his into me as the author of a well-known Rugby cumbency he found a clerk who in saying joke. The rector of Rugby, the poet the Psalms made many mistakes. At last Moultrie, had just published a poem called the clergyman remonstrated with him, and "The Black Fence.' It had been sug- said, "I wish, John, you would not say in gested to him in a walk, on observing that the 74th Psalm, 'Let us make haycocks of a Roman Catholic gentleman near Rugby them.' If you look you will see the words had surrounded his park with a high black | are, 'Let us make havock of them.' Old paling, by which he had obtained a greater John answered: "Well, sir, of course, if amount of privacy. Mr. Moultrie thought you wish it, I will; but it always used to he saw in this an emblem of the darkness be haycocks."

The rector was not merciful to stories, however, when they seemed to him to trench upon a profane handling of Scrip

ture.

The same clerk was told to give out the | offices, farm buildings, a friar's residence, notice: "On Sunday next the service in another for the local district judge, a large this church will be held in the afternoon, library, and a refectory for festivals, - at and on the following Sunday it will be held other times the anchorites dined each in the morning, and so on alternately alone in his dwelling. A prominent feauntil further notice." What he actually ture of the monastery was the long central did give out was as follows: "On Sun- court, the Campo Santo of the monks, day next the morning service in this who were buried under the turf in the church will be held in the afternoon, and great oblong enclosure, into which the on the following Sunday the afternoon arched windows of the cloisters looked. service will be held in the morning, and The doors of each monk's dwelling were so on to all eternity." opposite these arched windows.

From The Spectator. A CARTHUSIAN MONASTERY NEAR

MERAN.

[FROM A CORRESPONDENT.]

SIR, We rose early, and by 5 o'clock we had left the warmth and roses of Meran and exchanged them for the raw air of the bleakest spot in Tyrol, the heights of Angels Mount in Schnals (described vividly in the novelette of "The Vulture Maiden "), where for centuries the only human habitation was a Carthusian monastery, built in 1325. How it ever got there is still a puzzle to me; for even with the help of an omnibus to the end of the valley, and then a mule up the height, it took us four hours to get there and make the eight miles' journey.

Their founder, St. Bruno, legislated for a life of prayer, work, and privacy, and his followers here, on their mountain fastness, followed his law faithfully. Each monk had his own small tenement; no one could overlook or be overlooked by his neighbor. Each little lobby opened into the cloisters. Through a hatsh in the wall he received his food, his little study within having a door into his garden. He had a bedroom, a convenient attic for tools and workshop. In his cell he studied and transcribed old missals, and employed himself in some manual labor during part of his day. In his garden he cultivated his plants, above all his carnations. The Carthusian carnations became so celebrated as to be in great demand in Vienna. The red clove carnation is the national flower of Tyrol, and owes, no doubt, its cultivation and popularity to these monastery gardens. The monks possessed a magnificent library, and most of the manuscripts now preserved at Innsbrück came from Carthaus. In 1782, this quiet, busy life of the monks came to an end. This Tyroller Carthusian monastery, and other religious houses in Austria and the Netherlands, were sequestrated by the emperor Joseph II. The place stood desolate till the Austrian government offered it as a dwelling-place, at a very low rental, to any peasants of the surrounding villages who would go up and live there. In spite of the inclement climate and barren, rocky A quiet life must the old monks have soil for the good meadow land and lived up here in the old days. Like all farms of the monks were not offered with Carthusian houses the world over, this the monks' dwellings a few families of one was built for twelve monks and a handicraftsmen whose work could be carfriar (or, in rare cases, as the Charterhouse in London, for twenty-four monks, then called a double house). This house was richly endowed by its founder, Duke Heinrich of Tyrol, with meadow land and farms, with the right to fish in the Etsch and in a mountain lake a little distance off, for the Carthusians got no meat. The monastery consisted of two churches, cloisters, a dozen little detached dwellings, each in its garden, a great kitchen and

The hardy larches were not yet in full leaf. The air was keen and thin, and grew thinner and keener as we neared the mountain village of Carthaus, frowning down upon us with its high walls like a fortified town. These walls-enclosing the buildings, once a monastery of Carthusian monks, now, since their dispersion, a village crown the crest of a cliff four thousand feet high. Below runs a deep ravine, through which foam the grim, milky waters of a stream fresh from a glacier.

ried on at home, did go. A priest ministered in the old convent church, and a little community has grown up among the old grey walls. Extreme poverty and hardship has reigned in these mountain homes, - hard enough in summer with scanty food and shelter, but often terrible in the depths of long winters, when not alone the grey walls shut out the world, but deep snows enclose them in on all sides. It was to visit this little community

against the decay and filth that gathered over their houses and themselves.

that we had made our journey. Whilst our friend was visiting and attending to the truly religious work which month by In the midst of this poor flock the old month brings her up to this strange place, pastor struggled on, often with despair in I and my relative sat in a little house- his heart. One day he was called to the one of the monks' dwellings. of the good death-bed of an old bachelor peasant of priest, and heard the story of the place. means, who offered to leave a sum of As to his own share in the good work, I money sufficient to maintain a sister of learnt it from others; but, for the sake of charity at Carthaus. She was to come brevity, I make the narrative one. It was and begin her work by waiting first upon Friday, but the priest bade us heartily him. The priest was overjoyed. The welcome, and pressed us to share his mother-general at Innsbrück, to whom apfrugal meal, a saucer of hard-boiled plication was made, said she would send eggs, black bread, and lettuce. He showed two efficient sisters, it being against the us the manuscript "History of the Ty-rules of the order for one sister to live roller Charterhouse," and as we examined and work alone. The charge for clothes the quaint and ingenious plan of the old and food would be 120 florins, - £10 a convent, he told us the story of it, and its | year. Think of the coming of two such later inhabitants.

In 1782, the government sold the estate in a lump to an Italian for 7,000 florins, equal to £582, and some years later it was sold by him to an Austrian, Count Handl, who broke up the property, and sold it in twenty-four lots for 57,000 florins, or £2,250. Again, these lots have been divided by sales and private inheritance, so that now two hundred people crowd into buildings which in earlier times, friar, judge, monks, lay brothers, and boarders, all told, did not exceed forty individuals, and sadly do the place and people cry aloud for help, instruction,

and reform.

The dwellings of necessity being far too small for large families, all sorts of additions have been made; but as no mortar is to be had in the valley of Schnals, these leans-to and upper storeys are merely connected with clay or made of wood, and are all too small, windy, and dark, whilst many are damp and unhealthy; such close quarters are also bad for health, morality, and good understanding between neighbors. In addition to this, the cloister roof has fallen in. It was of shingle, but the secular proprietors never repaired it. Heavy winter snows, rain, wind, mountain gales, and hot sunshine combined in its destruction; great dilapidations and demolitions have occurred, and these once picturesque cloisters, strewn with bricks, stones, and planks, now act as the village

streets.

But in their hard poverty the people lived on, eating their potatoes and cabbage, their coarse cheese, and blackest of black bread in silence, and did not beg. They went on in a sort of lethargy of ignorance and helplessness. The women neither sewed, nor knitted, nor spun. They had less and less spirit to fight

doves of peace and piety to that sad place! But alas! the old man recovered, and withdrew his promise. Sorely disappointed, the good father trudged over to see his friend, a neighboring priest of Katmienberg, on the opposite side of the ravine. They walked together discussing the sad necessity of the poor flock at Schnals, and the end was that they agreed each to provide for a sister out of their stipends, one quarter of their incomes, they each being literally "passing rich on forty pounds a year."

Two old maiden sisters, rich in the community as having a shop and also working a sewing-machine, in a somewhat hasty fit of generosity, offered to let the sisters live in three of their unoccupied rooms. So with the two sisters of charity entered a new spirit into the dreary place. Sister Hadriana nursed the sick, Sister Diomera taught the children, both taught cleanliness, order, and good management. Through the wild winter of two years ago, Father Nauer watched the progress of good with thankful delight. But the devotion of the old maiden ladies began to flag. When the children came to lessons, they were noisy and brought in dirt and snow. Even Sister Hadriana, coming in from her journeys among the sick, had wet feet too. There was a poor, wretched girl lying ill at Katmienberg, and twice a day did that good sister make the journey down one ice-bound steep and up another to dress her sores, often at the peril of her own life, clinging and climbing up the slippery, precipitous paths. Think of the pity and love that armed that heart for such an errand! But the old ladies did not like dirty shoes and wet garments. They grew sulky and reproachful. It was easier for the sisters to bear bad weather than bad temper, and after much long

suffering, just before service one Sunday | cratic principles. "Before long," sighed afternoon, they told the painful news to he, "the people will govern throughout Herr Nauer that they must go. The poor Europe, as they do in America. Ah! even old man broke down in the service as he in good conservative Austria, I believe announced the sad news to his flock. The emperor and duke will in twenty years old ladies repented of their rigor, and only be names in past history." begged the sisters to remain. The poor invalid from Katmienberg was brought later on to be under the same roof with her good nurse; but this proved more than the fluctuating Christian charity of the ladies could bear, and the sisters had to leave, and this time without reprieve.