CONVENT OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD, MOUNT MAGDALA, CHRISTCHURCH.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVIII, Issue 14, 30 July 1886, Page 16

CONVENT OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD, MOUNT MAGDALA, CHRISTCHURCH.

(Froroltbe Lytteltm Times.) The Rev. Father Ginaty has sent us an account of a Penitent's life in the Magdalen Asylum, Abbotsford, It appeared in a recent number of the Melbourne Argus, and is from the pen of a Protestant lady. Father Ginaty states that it is a faithful record of what he himself saw in the Institution, which he visited lately, with the view of modelling upon it the Mount Magdala Magdalen Asylum. We have 3lightly condensed the account :—: — ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE. It is the hour of twilight, the hour when visible objects are a universal grey, the light in which one can see things move without discerning their outlines, the time when — "The ploughman homeward plods his weary way." The rank, unwholesome grass shivers under a thin cold air that seems to blow from no particular point of the compass. The cotiage windows are lit up one by one, and, save for a solitary figure, the place is left to darkless and rats. The solitary figure is a woman standing on the summit of a steep slope, and steadfastly lookin? towards a largo dark building, whose sombie mass is presently illumed by faintly gleaming windows. Perhaps she is finishing the quotation — " And leaves the world to darkness and to me." After gazing for a long time, the woman turned her back upon the river, and staggered towards the street. This woman is without a home, without a crust, without a penny, her past full of evil, her f nture empty of hope. Yet some womanly instincts still remain to he-— she has not yet been in gaol. Longingly she looks into the light and warmth of an hotel ; she has nothing left with which to purchase its deceitful Jhospitality. A hard-visaged woman is behind the counter ; our luckless one knows she need not beg here for a small portion of the Lethe waters that would numb her misery for a brief while. She stumoled or, the prey of men, the abhorrence of women, the scorn of herself. "Wretched as she 19, she doe 3 not wish to die. Strange enough that seems to us. 'Worthless as her life appears to an onlooker, and unmissed to the world as it might be if it went out suddenly in the dark waters yonder, it is yet dear to her, and it behoves her with all possible speed, and at whatever cost of liberty and ease, to obtain the necessary sustenance for that dear life which she feels to be nearing extinction. THB ASYLUM. At length her uncertain steps have brought her to her destination. The long wall of the Convent of the Order of the Good Shepherd is before her. The buildings of the convent tower high above and close

to the wall. The latter is pierced by a brtwtd gatrwy 1 1 a 1i r and adjoining this is a door with a shuttered iron giafcing. She raises her hand again and again to the bell without ringing it. She leaves the door ; she will not enter yet, it is still early— not more than eight o'clock. Before she has gone far, however, rain begins to fall, and fhe tarns back. She is nearly wet through before she again reaches the convent door. She riDgs this time, urgently. lhe shutter slides back from the grating, and a voice asks her what she wants. She answers that she wants to come in, for at this moment she is conscious of nothing but the desire of escaping from the wet, and cold, and hunger which encompass her. The portress left the grating, and speedily sent the joyful message through the Convent, "Another child at the door," and promptly (lest the intending penitent may retract her intention) a Sister comes to receive her. She has to answer a few more questions, in order to Ratisfy the Sister that she is a fit object for the charity of the institution, and then she is admitted. The Sister leads her to the penitents' reception room, where a bright fire is burning. Another Sister comes to serve as witness, and with all convenient speed (that she may not be kept in her wet chothes) her name and a few other particulars are entered in a large book, containing brirf histories of thousands like herself. She is informed that her tale ehall be known only to the two who have heard it and to the superioress of the convent. A new name is bestowed upon her. By it only she is known while in the convent. She i» commanded not to speak of her past life to the otbers, such speech being neither profitable nor expedient. Only too glad is the poor creature to promise obedience, rejoicing to find that her identity is to be bidden. In the Convent of the Order of the Good Shepherd, the Magdalen Asylum is entirely separate from the children's department and from tke convent proper. THE lUFIRMABY. When she hears the gate clang to behind her, she feels, with infinite relief, that the world with its sneers and scoffs is shut out at least for a time — the time depends upon herself. As she is Buffering from the effects of drink and exposure, she is taken to the infirmary and placed in charge of the SUter infirmarian. The infirmary is a large room containing six beds. The floor is covered with scraps of many different carpets, giving a gay, if somewhat dislocated effect, and the beds have quilts and. bright patchwork. Religious pictures and crosses adorn the walla, and a large shrine is placed near the door. To-night a cheerful fire lights up the bright quilts and diversified carpet, and accentuates the contrast between outside and inside. Our unfortunate is placed in a chair by the fire, to be undressed and invested with the house clothes. Her own ragged garments are taken away to be fumigated and washed, and she is put to bed, warm and comfortable. She remains iv the infirmary, doctored and nursed with Christian charity, until she has recovered some degree of health, and is pronounced fit for light work. THE PEKITBXT. Then one evenings soon after eight o'clock, she is conducted uP stairs to an immense dormitory, containing about 60 beds. She i allotted one near the door of the nuns' cell, which opens ont of the dormitory. Sixty women are preparing for bed in silence and the greatest order. By half-past eight they are all in bed, and the Sister in charge turns out the gass. By ten "o'clock all lights in the thrci divisions of the institution are out, and peace and rest reigns supreme. THH DAILY ROUTINE. At six next morning a loud bell woke our penitent, who had enjoyed a sound night's rest in her comfortable bed. The Sisters are already up and dressed, ready for their work of supamsion. The penitents, as soon as they are dressed and their beds turned out to air, proceed by half-past 6to the class-room. This room is of large size, with boarded floor. It is furnished with two long tables and many forme. A shrine is placed at one eDd, and numerous pictur . ■ cover the walls. The Good Shepherd and His Mother meek aie everywhere. Our penitent finds herself one of 270 women now *n the asylum, all gathered together for morning prayers, recited by the mistress of the penitents. These over, the 270, witu the 15 or 20 Sisters who have charge o£ them, proceed to the church. Here the whole community — Sisters, children, and penitents, together with such of the outside world as choose to come — meet every morning at 7 o'clock to hear Mass. Church over by half-past 7, the penitents return to their quarters, to attend to the fires, sweep and tidy the dormitories, make beds, etc., all in silence. Some dig in their gardens— a few retire to the oratory. At 8 the breakfast bell rings, and the women come in crowds from every part of the building to the refectory. Taey.sit at |long narrow tables covered with white cloths. Each has her appointed place, and her clean — though coarse — table napkic In it she keeps her knife, fork and spoon, and any pet mug or little dish she may possess. A large white mug flanks each serviette, and the food is Berved on crockery-ware plates. No one here suffers from the nausea caused by the sight of food served in dirty tin dishes. Breakfast is a light meal, consisting of bread and butter and tea, but unlimited in quantity. Silently the meal proceeds, the penitents waited upon by several Sisters, while from the pulpit another Sister reads passages from the " Lives of ibe Saints," or some other holy book. After breakfast, the bed-making and so forth is resumed. All move about calmly and leisurely, the press and hurry of the world are shut oat. But at 9 o'clock the bell calls to woik. and oue large contingent, about a hundred in number, moves •i! o the largest laundry in the Southern Hemisphere. From 9o\ to nooD, the work proceeds briskly in the different department, actively supervised by the Sisters in charge, and in complete silence, save for their necessary instructions and directions. Our penitent fared but indifferently in her first essay at clothes-washing. She waa given a trough containing a few pinafores. After flourishing one about for a few minutes and wettiag herself very much, she brought it to the table. "This will not do" said the Sister, and bringing it back to the trough she showed the new " child " how to rub it to get the dirt out. " You are not asked to do much, especially at rirst, but what you do must be well done," the Sister said, gently and firmly.

At noon the summons is to dinner. That meal consists of boiled and roasted meat in rotation, sometimes with soup. On fast days soup maigre, preserved fish, ox when the market inspector happens to remember the Magdalen As; lam, small fresh fish, and always plenty of fresh vegetables oat of the convent garden. On Sundays and feast days pudding is added to the menu. In silence the women enter the refectory and take their seats. la silence tin broken, save by the -voice of the reader, the meal proceeds. Dinner over, then comes the recreation hour till half- past one. For the fcour, in convent phrase, " boly liberty " prevails ; each one does what seems to her best, but she mast do something. Recreation hoar over, work is resumed, but the privilege of speech is not yet withdrawn. At a qnarter to three the " children " again come in silence to the refectory for woman's solatium— a cnp of tea. From three to four, work with talk ; at fonr, without stopping work, the Litany oi onr Blessed Lady is sung, or in the event of a death, only said, and the pall of silence again descends for a time. At five o'clock laundry work for the day is concluded. All things are left neat and ready for the next morning. Those whose clothes or shoes are wet change them, and all gather once uiore in the class-room. Prayers are again recited, and 1 a brief space for meditation follows. Then sewing is proceeded with in silence until supper-time at six. Supper consists of bread and batter or jam, vegetables cooked in various way 87 fresh trait from the garden (when in season), and tea. Supper over, then comes the merry time, when all gather in the class-room for the final hours of the day. " When toil remitting lends its turn to play, and jokes go round and harmless chat," droll tales are told and games of finessing indulged in. On festival occasions the soDg and the dance are the favourite amusements. The library opens off the class-room, and contains a good piano, which is wheeled close to the door, and performed upon by one of the Sisters on such occasions. Bat on ordinary evenings, amid the talk and laughter, needlework still goes on. Prayers at 8 close each day. THE UNIFOBM. The penitents' uniform is in summer a lilac print frock, in winter dark-grey wincey and black fichu, with always a, babyi cap of thick white muslin tied under the chin. The consecrated penitents, those who have resolved to remain in the convent for life or for a term of years, and who renew their promise yearly, wear a black gown and Normandy peasant cap of wbite linen. This clas» wear a small silver cross, and have the sacred monogram embroidered in white silk on the back of the fichu. Their gown is open at the neck, s'uowing a wbite chemisette. A black apron with pockets completes the dress, which is very becoming to the better looking women. Many of both classes of penitents wear the blue ribbon of the Children of Mary, some the narrow cord and medal of the probationer, others the broad band of the adopted cbild, with the inscription embroidered in golden letters, •' Marie est ma mere" THE RESULT. At any time she chooses, a woman may leave the conyent on three days' notice, but she leaves it unprovided for and in. the clothes in which she entered. At the end of two years she is provided with a neat outfit, and, with a pound note in her pocket, she sets forth to try her fortune once more in the world. The Sisters prefer this mode to themselves finding situations for the " children," as unless the child betrays herself, no one need know where she has come from* or what she was formerly. Indeed, the whole scope of the work is aimed at a sweeping and washing away, 8 blotting out of the past, a cleansing of the very tablets of the memory. Nor is it correct to suppose that all here are " fallen" women. Some hare entered to save themselves from becoming so, some to save themselves from the appetite for drink, a few especially in former years, "because they were feeble and old and destitute. 0 Sisters, the ideal of whose order is the touching figure of the Good Shepherd, not with empty arms, but gently carrying the stray lamb which he has songht and found, continue this good work and prosper in it. And for us of the outside world, we who are still children, but children who have lost our simple faith and learned to ask questions instead, and upon all sorts of knotty, altogether uasolvable problems in sociology press for solution, may it not be that while we are finding answers, some quite obvious duty goes undone ?

Mr. J. G. Healey's London boot warehouse, George street, Dunedin, should be visited by all persons desirous of purchasing first-class goods at extremely moderate prices. Blr. Healey's repairing department is also most deserving of patronage. Messrs. Morrison and Mitchell, auctioneers and valuators, 12 Eattray street, Dunedin, are prepared to conduct sales In any locality desired at moderate rates. Their rooms in town are conveniently and centrally situated and offer an excellent situation to persons desiring to dispose of goods. Mr. Thomas Gorman's blacksmith's and horse-shoer's establishment will be found on the premises lately occupied by Messrs. Parsons and Henderson, Main North Road, Timaiu. All orders given will be punctually attended to and performed in the best and most satisfactory manner possible. Messrs. Nelson, Moate and Co., George street, Dunedin, are evidently doing an eiormons trade in teas. The articles supplied by them are quite unrivalled in their qualities, and command a ready market. The firm is already among the first in this city, and their daily increasing business promises before long to give their establishment a still better position. Their opportunities for purchasing well, and consequently selling to the great advantage of their customers, are quite exceptional,— and the effects are apparent to all who deal with them. We beg to call attention to Mr. Peter Dutton's advertisement o f bis renowned remedy for coughs aad colds, namely, Irish Moss. He draws our attention to the fact that a red cross is on evety label without which it is not genuine. We believe it can be had of all storekeepers and chemists. It is a safe and pleasant medicine, and we advise our readers to give it a trial, and cough no more.