of my English relatives in London, who wondered what a young man wanted with such a book. A few able Roman priests gave me Roman books to read Milner's "End of Religious Controversy," Wiseman's "Lectures," Moehler's "Symbolism," Ives' "Trials of a Mind." Bishop Southgate helped me to see that the true viewpoint of the Church was from Jerusalem. Jerusalem was the Mother Church. Rome, by its claim to supremacy, had made a rent in Christendom. It was not the source of unity, but the primal cause of schism. I realized also that our chief loyalty was to the one Catholic Church Christ had made, rather than to any one of the divisions the sins of man had made. When, years after, Newman put forth his "Apologia," it seemed to me that he had never grasped the idea of the Catholic Church, and no wonder he fell away. He had been a low churchman, then a high churchman, and then invented a via media of his own, and, finally, tried to cover his secession by a doctrine of development, which many Romans rejected and which equally defended Protestantism.

My studies led me to believe that the low church position in the Church did not do justice to the Prayer Book. For example, in the Baptismal Office it was declared of every child baptized that he was regenerated. The low churchman explained this as merely a hope based on the faith of the sponsor. But in the office for the Private Baptism of Infants, they were declared to be regenerated, and no sponsors were required. If our Lord's Presence in the Eu

charist were not effected by the consecration of the elements, why were the Consecrated Elements which remained after the Communion ordered to be so reverently consumed? Why, if Episcopal ordination were not necessary, were we not schismatical in not admitting sectarian ministers to officiate at our altars? I became fully convinced of the validity of our orders and sacraments, and that our Church was indeed a true branch of the Catholic Church. It had also under its English ornaments-rubric a right to the ancient vestments, lights, and altar ritual. I realized the Catholicity of our position and our sacramental gifts, and the sin involved in leaving the Church for Rome. I remember subsequently passing a night in Trinity Church in New York in devotion, and sincerely praying God that I might be taken away during the coming year, even by railroad accident, rather than live on and proclaim, as I felt it my duty to do, the Catholicity of our Church, if it were not true.

There were few, if any, Catholic churchmen. I remember asking Father Prescott, at this time, in the early fifties, whether he supposed there were any other Tractarians than ourselves in America. Bishop Ives had gone over to Rome, as had some others in Maryland, and it looked as if few were left. I believed in the Church and I said: "Though I shall not see her recover her heritage of doctrine and ritual in my day, it is well for a man to give up his life in an endeavor to bring a revival of the Church to pass. It is a greater work to free the Church

than it is even to free the slave. For my own poor part, I will throw my hat into the ring and do what I can in the fight."

It was at this time that, under the grace of God, I determined to give myself up wholly to Christ and His service. In the presence of so great a fact as God's becoming Incarnate, I felt there was nothing that I could hold back from Him. I therefore determined to live for Him, and for Him alone; to forgo marriage and family; to consecrate whatever I might have of means or ability to His service; and to live upon such an amount as alone would be necessary to cover the expenses of food, raiment, and shelter. However imperfectly I may have fulfilled my consecration, I have never regretted it.

At that time the anti-slavery question was strongly in evidence, and Mrs. Stowe's book was written. A study of the law problems involved led me, from a legal point of view, to believe that the slave's relation, as established by law as a "thing," was inconsistent with his duty as "a man" to his Creator. I wrote a pamphlet on the subject, which Wendell Phillips, who had taken an interest in me, thought worthy of publishing. I was not originally an Abolitionist, but I became, by the legal study of the slave question, much drawn to Phillips. The nobleness and selfsacrifice of his character much interested me. But I began to feel, and eventually felt, that I could do more good for humanity by going into the Church than into politics. I felt, however, that I could never write a sermon. I knew what speaking from

a brief was, but the sermons I heard were full of words I did not understand. I did not feel that I had the literary ability to write them. Then my clergyman, the Rev. Father Prescott, told me that if God intended me to be a third-rate clergyman, rather than a firstclass lawyer, my duty was to enter the ministry rather than to seek the other profession. One must seek first to know one's vocation, and then trust God and follow it. It was thus, partly under his influence, that I had the courage to offer myself to Bishop Whittingham, of Maryland, as a candidate for Holy Orders.

Bishop Whittingham received me very kindly, but made a strict examination as to my motives in seeking Holy Orders. He gave me a homily on the poverty which might ensue if I entered the ministry. If I had to starve, I was not to blame him.

I remember an amusing incident at this time. I was a young man in society life in Boston, and though I had never indulged much in the habit of smoking, I took out a cigar and offered it to the Bishop. I never forgot his answer and look. "I can't imagine," he said, "an Apostle smoking." I thought at the time the logic was imperfect, as I could not imagine an Apostle doing many things we are obliged to do now. Nevertheless, the words, and the injunction from that saintly man, settled in my heart, and I soon concluded that it would be better for me as a priest, if I were to do priestly work for God, to give up such a habit.

I was much beset by relatives and friends not to

take Holy Orders. They made very large offers of worldly success and emolument and fortune if I would not do so. But I felt that the Church needed lives of sacrifice, and that man could never give more to God than God could give to him.

I remained in Maryland under Bishop Whittingham for about ten years. I began during the slavery times. I remember my first six months were spent in a deserted rectory, where I practically camped out, and had twenty-six dollars for my first six months' stipend. The arrangement of the church, which was not uncommon, was after this fashion: there was a door from the vestry at the east end, through which one passed to the desk from which the service was said and the sermon preached. Below it was the Communion table. The two were surrounded by a semi-circular rail. It was anything but Churchly. I was curate to a very saintly man, Dr. Rich. I had often to walk miles to one of our missions. We did not have overmuch in the way of food, and we used to warm over what was sent in for our Sunday meals.

I was asked by a clerical friend who had gained the approval of the Bishop, to take up settlement work in a poor district in Baltimore. This, I believe, was the first settlement work ever done in our Church in America. We lived amongst the poor and opened our house to them. We had a chapel, a co-operative store, and various other appliances for city missionary work. I had charge also of a small colored mission. Here I remained with the Bishop's approval,