THE QUALITY OF PHILANTHROPY.

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and a plum cake." A life such as his needs no eulogy; his monument is to be found wherever there is a Sunday school, his influence is felt even to-day by all classes of society.

Philanthropy is doing good to the wretched at a great sacrifice to the doer and without seeking reward. Philanthropists are men who love men irrespectively of whether they are respectable or disreputable, lovable or unlovable. Philanthropy is not confined to a few eminent and peculiar personages "standing out in high relief on the page of history; men born like poets to their destiny, whose office is to cure human ills on the stage of a continent, having for audience an admiring world." The great bulk of philanthropic work done in our land is not done by those who attract most attention-the great one and another here and there-but by the tens of thousands whose names are not known a mile from their own homes.

A great deal of what is really only beneficence is often set down to the score of philanthropy. But there is in itself no heroism in subscribing a large sum to a charitable institution, or figuring in handbills and advertisements as laying foundation stones on which purses of the value of £5 are to be placed; or even in feeding the poor with what is not required in one's own household, or in leaving a plump legacy to a hospital in order to spite some expectant relation. Of course beneficence may sometimes rise to heroism, but only when it is merged in philanthropy and the gift is the result of a great sacrifice on the part of the giver.

It is a well-known fact that in no other country in the world are philanthropic efforts held in higher estimation than in England. It may be curious, but it is the fact that almost every conceivable want is met by some charitable institution. It is not generally known that a great many of our most important public institutions owe their origin to the heroic labours of obscure persons, many of whom were

women.

In selecting a case in point it must be clearly understood that it is only one out of many, and the heroine of our sketch, noble and exemplary as she was, must be regarded only as a specimen illustration of an army of brave women who have given all the best and sweetest of their lives, to enable sad and sorrow-stricken fellow-creatures to enjoy in the time of their pain and anxiety the benefit of the best medical advice and the best comforts and alleviations that science can supply.

Miss Johanna Chandler was an orphan, and her grandmother, under whose care she was brought up, when paying a short visit was seized with paralysis, and brought back to her home a wreck of her former self. Johanna Chandler and her sister Laura were deeply grieved at the calamity, but busied themselves in every possible way to minister to the invalid, and soon had the satisfaction of finding that by good nursing and incessant care she was undoubtedly receiving benefit.

As hundreds and thousands may have done before, the sisters often talked together of the sad lot of those who in poor circumstances should be attacked by epilepsy or paralysis, and pictured the distress which must be felt by those around the sufferer, who through poverty could neither devote proper attention nor supply the only means which

could mitigate suffering or tend towards the cure of the malady. The impression produced on them by such talks as these was intensified by the fact that a carpenter living in the neighbourhood was at that time struck down with paralysis; and his only nurse, his wife, who was fast fading out of life through consumption, hearing of the misfortune that had befallen the Chandlers, applied to them for advice. At once Miss Chandler went to the cottage of the poor man, and found there the scene realised that she had pictured in her mind-the bread-winner hopelessly stricken down by paralysis,

the wife too weak and ill to render any assistance, four little children hungry and crying, and all around hopelessness and despair. They had sought for parish relief, but could obtain it only by entering the house, and this they had refused to do even if they perished by starvation. Everything that kindness and attention could do was done by Miss o Chandler, but she was impotent to arrest the progress of disease in the poor woman, who died in a few days after her first visit. Then she sought to gain admission for the paralytic man in one of the hospitals. She went from one institution to another, but to her dismay she found that there was not a hospital in London which would receive such cases.

HOW A HOSPITAL WAS ESTABLISHED.

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"There are charities in London for the relief of almost every class of human affliction," she wrote at that time, "yet the sufferings of the paralysed have been most strangely overlooked; and with that thought came the strong resolve that, God helping me, I would devote my life in endeavouring to supply this great want." *

From that time forth she set herself with resolute determination to an almost impossible task. She had no special talent to enable her to perform that task, beyond the earnest desire to be a blessing to her fellow-creatures; she had no wide range of influential friends to back up her endeavours; her own personal resources were very limited; but she had a woman's strong will, and the sympathy of her sister and grandmother, and she determined to use these to the best advantage.

First and foremost came the difficulty of raising money; but she met this as far as she was able by taking £200 from her own little capital as a nucleus for the fund. Although the sum was not large in itself, it was much to her, and necessitated a great deal of self-denial, and the foregoing of little comforts to which she had previously been used. Then she made an appeal to the public, but the appeal fell flat and brought nothing to the exchequer; then she wrote to all the well-known philanthropists of the day, and plenty of correspondence ensued, some approving and some throwing cold water on her scheme, but no one sent a shilling towards the fund. In the midst of these labours and disappointments the health of Miss Laura Chandler gave way, and she was declared to be in a hopeless state of consumption.

For some years nothing further could be done by Miss Chandler, except to give publicity to her scheme whenever she had opportunity, but as time slipped away it seemed that the chances of her wishes being realised were fewer than ever. At last, when five years had elapsed and things seemed to be at their worst, she received a letter from the Lord Mayor of London (Alderman Wire), requesting to see her at the Mansion House with reference to her proposed institution for the paralysed and epileptic.

She went, laid before him her scheme, found that his sympathies were in accord with her own, and returned to her home in a very delirium of delight; for he had not only promised to give a contribution and receive subscriptions, but would himself preside at a public meeting at the Mansion House, the arrangements of which he left entirely to her. Before that meeting was held, Miss Burdett-Coutts became interested in the scheme from an advertisement referring to the meeting, and sent a cheque for £100 towards the building fund, as well as a promise to subscribe £50 a year for the first five years after the hospital should be opened for the reception of patients.

The public meeting was a grand success. It was unanimously resolved that a National Hospital for the Paralysed and Epileptic should be established, and to that end the sum of £800 was contributed before the meeting broke up.

Great was the joy in the home of Miss Chandler, but it was a joy mingled with sorrow, as so many of our best joys are, for her sister, who had helped her so much in the early days of the movement, was fast fading away, and a few days afterwards expired,

* Quoted in an article on "Johanna Chandler" by the author of "Quaker Philanthropy," from whence we have derived some of our information.

but cheered with inexpressible happiness in the thought that their day-dream would, after all, come true.

Soon a house was selected in Queen's Square, Bloomsbury; an efficient staff of physicians enrolled themselves as officers of the institution; Miss Chandler became Honorary Secretary of the Ladies' Committee; and the first ward was named, in compliment to the Misses Chandler, "the Sisters' Ward."

It was not long before it was found that the house was wholly inadequate to the requirements of the numbers who flocked thither for relief. The house adjoining was therefore purchased, together with the freehold of both, and the cost of this, and elaborate alterations, amounted to £3,500, the whole of which was collected by Miss Chandler and the Ladies' Committee. Without going further on with the history, suffice it to say that the National Hospital for the Paralysed and Epileptic is one of the finest charitable institutions in London.

If the moral of the story is not patent to every reader, we have told the tale in vain. A philanthropic idea took full possession of the heart of a generous woman, and with heroic steadfastness she carried it out to its full completion. Generations of suffering human beings will thank God for the heroism of Johanna Chandler.

Another woman with a purpose, a heroine of a philanthropic idea, was Adeline Cooper. The dirt and squalor, the poverty and degradation in Westminster before the improvements were made, which swept away one of the most notoriously evil parts of London, attracted her attention. She found that comparatively little was being done to check the flagrant evils which abounded, and that as flocks of the wretched inhabitants were driven out, others came and crowded together in unhealthy and miserable dwellings, and these people seemed to be the very scum of society, even worse than those who had migrated.

Some five-and-twenty years ago a ragged school which had been established in this neighbourhood was about to be closed for want of funds. Before doing so, however, one of the persons interested in the school determined to seek the advice of Miss Cooper, who, it was known, had a large experience of ragged school work. She advised keeping the school open, threw the weight of her active co-operation into the revived effort, and herself took a class in the school. While so employed, her heart was grieved to find the terrible depths of degradation into which the people, and even some of the little children, were sunk, and she determined to do her best to raise and improve them. To this end she rented two small cottages in a court in Old Pye Street, one of the most terrible places in all London, as every one will testify who knew the locality at the time of which we write. In the midst of filth and squalor, surrounded by thieves and costermongers of the lowest type, and the very refuse of the worst dregs of society, this lady commenced a day and night Sunday school and a mothers' meeting. Every time her rooms were open they were crowded, insomuch that in a little while she had to look about for more commodious premises. There happened to be at that time a public-house to let, the "Old Tun," a notoriously bad place, and this Miss Cooper determined to rent. She met with great opposition from the roughs of

the neighbourhood, who had been accustomed to meet at the "Old Tun" for their so-called convivial meetings, and some of them went so far as to declare that "if she didn't clear out of it, she should be driven away by force." But "by her love she overcame," and never afterwards experienced the least annoyance from the roughs among whom she laboured.

When she had re-established her schools here, she felt it was high time to interest herself not only in the welfare of the children, but also in the wretched creatures who bore the name of parents. Seeing that intemperance was at the root of nearly all the violence and other forms of crime abounding in the locality, she signed the pledge herself by way of example, and then tried what she could do to influence others. At first her efforts in this direction were signally unsuccessful; she tried to induce the men to come to night-schools and to meetings, but they one and all declined. Then it struck her that the men felt a shyness in meeting where children were taught and mothers' meetings were held, and she determined to start a club where the men might meet by themselves. She took a lease of some land in Duck Lane, another notorious "rookery, and here she built a handsome, lofty room, well lighted, warmed, and ventilated, and inaugurated her "Costermongers' Club," with rules as much like those of West End clubs as circumstances would permit, which rules were unanimously adopted by the hundred and twenty members who assembled on the first night. Although there were only twenty-five teetotallers among the number, the men of their own free will unanimously resolved that no intoxicants should be allowed on the premises, as "drink" would lead to quarrelling, and "make the place no better than a public-house." In the course of a few weeks over sixty of the hundred and twenty had signed the pledge.

was

For a time all her plans prospered. The school at the "Old Tun" flourished; the costermongers' club was an unprecedented success; the temperance movement making rapid progress; the mothers' meetings were crowded; and the men came in good numbers to the Bible class. Then came what seemed an evil day. The police made a raid upon the rookeries of Westminster, attempting to stop the hawkers and costers, who assembled in the Old Broadway, from plying their trade. Through the exertions of Miss Cooper, aided by the shopkeepers, this onslaught was resisted, and her men were saved. Then came a greater seeming evil still. The Improvement Commissioners wanted the ground on which her club-house stood; she was obliged to yield; the compensation offered her was insufficient to enable her to purchase fresh land in the neighbourhood, the price of which had gone up fabulously in consequence of the improvements, and she was at her wits' end and almost in despair, when an account of her labours among the poor reached the ears of the Marquis of Westminster, who, hearing at the same time of her dilemma, offered to lend her £7,600 at 3 per cent. interest. This she thankfully accepted, and with the money re-established her club, and in addition united with it a model lodging-house capable of accommodating fifty to sixty families. Then the clouds all cleared away from her pathway; the model lodginghouse was filled, and was a financial success, so that she was enabled to go on with fresh enterprises; and soon a loan society was established, then a temperance sick benefit society, a barrow club for the costermongers, a penny bank, and other useful institutions.