2. That in the event of any case not being so received, that case shall be returned to Dr. Barnardo with the reason of its rejection. 3. That no moral or religious pressure be used to prevent any such rejected case returning to Dr. Barnardo. Dr. Barnardo adds that once a child has passed into the actual Homes (ie., out of the Receiving Wards) he absolutely declines to give that child up; and if, and in consideration of his so doing, he gives up children coming into the Receiving Wards, he expects not to be molested on account of children in the actual Homes, and that his Eminence will discountenance and, so far as may be, prevent such molestation. After careful consideration the offer was accepted by Cardinal itself: "DEAR SIR, "ARCHBISHOP'S HOUSE, "September 8th, 1899. "The Transfer of the Catholic Children applying to your Homes. Referring to the proposals which you have been good enough to entertain that you should send on to us Catholic children and young people of both sexes applying or brought to your Receiving Wards, I have reported to the Cardinal the gist of our conversation at our meeting on August 9th last, and I am directed by his Eminence to convey his assurance that you shall be duly and fully informed as to the treatment of each case of a Catholic child or adolescent sent by you to the persons appointed by him to receive such. I have also reported to his Eminence that you do not include in the proposed arrangement children already admitted into and become inmates of your Homes, and that—to quote your letter addressed to Lord Kinnaird-you decline to part with any such child on the grounds of religious belief except 'in obedience to the Judges of the land.' And I am to say that the Cardinal hopes that such regrettable occasions of litigation may cease to arise. His Eminence adopts your suggestion that the proposed arrangement should apply to all England, and not merely to his own diocese as originally contemplated. He will communicate as soon as practicable with the other Bishops on the subject. “I am, dear Sir, faithfully yours, "RICHARD HUTH." NOTE. This letter was authorised by H.E. on October 7th, 1899, at Derwent Hall. A final interview between Mr. Huth and Dr. Barnardo took place on October 22nd, 1899, at which the former acknowledged the letter of September 8th as a satisfactory acceptance of the terms he had offered. The settlement thus arrived at, on the face of it, presented many opportunities for misunderstanding and conflict, but happily good will and good faith have prevailed on both sides, and no serious difficulty has arisen. CHAPTER IX CROSSES BY THE WAYSIDE N entry in Cardinal Vaughan's early diary runs : AN "The School of Suffering is the School of Christ, and happy they who study in it." And that sentence stood not for vague lip-service to a maxim of theology, but for an active and energising faith which through a long life shaped conduct and governed thought. Again and again in the diaries and his familiar letters this thought recurs-that suffering is in truth a blessing for those who know how to use it and to accept it willingly for Christ's sake. It crops up in all sorts of unexpected places in his correspondence. Thus, sandwiched away among letters full of business details to his secretary, Mr. Austin Oates, are passages of this sort: "Sorry to hear of your neuralgia, but not surprised. Get rid of it as soon as you can; but while it is on, a good Deo gratias in response to each twinge does wonderful good. I have tried it with immense advantage. For I also have had neuralgia and toothache since I have been here, off and Now it is off; but don't forget the Deo gratias. We are here to suffer, and the pain of the Cross must find us somewhere. People are such fools and so blind that they think suffering an evil, and do not know its real and eternal value." Another letter runs: "Keep nursing quietly. I hope-and I am sure-that you have on. tried to turn all these weeks of sickness into everlasting joy and merit. We cannot do anything better than Our Lord's Will, though we should have ever such fine schemes on hand. And to love and rejoice in doing His Will is almost an anticipation of Heaven: at least it is coming very near to Heaven. You have had more to suffer than I because you have had sharp pain, whereas I was not, perhaps, fit to be tried in that way." To a great friend he wrote: "Our Lord is doing His work in your soul. He always humbles us when He desires to raise us to Himself. Humility is the first condition or rather St. Augustine says it is the first, second, and third. So, too, suffering-the Passion and the Cross-is the Royal Highway to Heaven, and there is no other so safe. So you see you are being specially favoured by Our Lord Himself, who does not leave it to you to seek which Cross and which mortification, but gives these bitter medicines and causes these smarting wounds, which in the end bring strength and peace." Again, we shall find him in later life writing in one of his letters that he always thought the humiliations and mortifications he had put up with during his great begging tour through America had more to do with the success of the Missionary College at Mill Hill than all the thousands of dollars he had collected for it. The "little crosses came and he had tried to bear them for Our Lord's sake, and so his work had been blessed. Sometimes crosses came that were not little. One at least must be mentioned here, because it affected him for years afterwards. His brother Roger, the Archbishop of Sydney, returned to England in the summer of 1883, after an absence of ten years. When the vessel reached Liver pool the Archbishop at once sent a note to his aunt, Mrs. Weld-Blundell, announcing his arrival and saying he would be at Ince-Blundell the following day. Had he some strange premonition of what was to come? He wrote, "I am coming to Ince for a long, long rest! I got little sleep on board, for the berth was as short and as narrow as the coffin for which I shall soon be measured!" At Ince there was a family party to meet him, which included the Bishop of Salford. On the evening of his arrival the Archbishop, though he seemed very worn and tired, was bright and cheerful. It was arranged that he should go to bed early and say a late Mass the next day. Herbert Vaughan went with his brother to his room, and said good-night at the door. The next morning the family assembled in the chapel at nine o'clock; the vestments were ready and the candles on the altar were lit. The minutes slipped away, and still the little congregation waited. At last, after a whispered consultation, it was decided to go to breakfast and let the tired traveller sleep on. After breakfast Herbert Vaughan went to the bedroom, but to his loud knocking there was no answer, and the door was locked. A ladder was then fetched, and Mr. Charles Weld-Blundell climbed into the room through the window. The Archbishop was dead in his bed, and already stiff and cold. Herbert Vaughan was shocked and distressed, with a sort of stupefying wonder at the mystery of the ways of God. It seemed unintelligible, this cutting off of a life upon which the spiritual welfare of so many appeared to depend. Writing a few days later to Sister Laurentia, a daughter of W. G. Ward, he said: "Many thanks for your affectionate words of condolence under |