lamentable plight. Ignorance and dirt, rags
and vermin, laziness and ill health, diseased
scalps, and skins tortured by itch, are their
characteristics. They are the very dregs of
the population of the largest city in the world
—the human waifs and strays of the modem
Babylon; the children of poverty, and misery,
and crime; in very many cases labouring
under physical defects, such as bad sight or
hearing; almost always stunted in their
growth, and bearing the stamp of ugliness
and suffering on their features. Generally
born in dark alleys and back courts, their
playground has been the streets, where the
wits of many have been prematurely sharpened
at the expense of any morals they might have.
With minds and bodies destitute of proper
nutriment, they are caught, as it were, by the
parish officers, like half-wild creatures, roaming
poverty-stricken amidst the wealth of our
greatest city; and half-starved in a land
where the law says no one shall be destitute
of food and shelter. When their lucky fate
sends them to Norwood, they are generally
little personifications of genuine poverty—
compounds, as somebody says, of ignorance,
gin, and sprats.

A number of pauper children having been
owned as chargeable upon the Central London
District, to whom the Norwood School now
belongs, and the requisite papers having been
filled up, they are sent to Weston Hill.
Arrived there, and their clothes having been
steamed, if worth preservation, or burned
if mere rags,—the new comers are well
washed, have their hair cut, and are newly
clad in clean and wholesome, but homely,
garments. According to their ages, they are
then drafted into a class; those between two
and six years pass to the infant school; those
of greater age are enrolled on the industrial
side of the establishment. Now the training
begins. They are all sent before the doctor,
who usually finds them sallow and sickly; but
by aid of Nature's physic,—fresh air,—and
Nature's rule of exercise and regularity,
assisted by extra diet, and with the occasional
aid of some good London beef and porter,
very few drugs are wanted, and their looks
change for the better. Early in August, this
year,—the period of our visit,—there were but
two children confined to bed out of more than
nine hundred; and those two were poor little
scrofulous shadows of humanity, such as
may be found in the top wards of hospitals,
labouring under disease of the hip and spine,
—paying the penalty of sins committed by
their parents before them. There had recently
been an epidemic of measles in the place,
when that disease destroyed eight of the
sickliest out of ninety cases. But for this,
the mortality would not have gone beyond
one in a hundred through the year. The
summer is their healthiest season; for winter
brings chilblains, a disease of poor blood, and
ophthalmia, to which pauper children seem to
be especially liable.

After their introduction to the doctor, the
bath, the wardrobe, and the pantry, they are
handed over to the school-master or mistress,
as the case may be. On the day of our visit,
two hundred and forty boys were receiving
instruction in one large new school-room;
two hundred (infants between two and six
years old) were being taught in another room;
two hundred girls were reading, writing, and
sewing in a third apartment; the rest of the
occupants being at work, or at drill, or at
play, in other parts of the establishment.
The boys are kept four days a week at school,
and two days at work in shops which we
shall presently see and describe: the girls
have three days' schooling and three days'
training in household occupations,—such as
cleaning the house, washing, ironing, mangling,
and needlework. The way these portions of
the establishment are arranged may possibly
furnish materials for a future paper.

The school for the eldest boys is a long
room newly built, with an enormous dormitory
above it. The ventilation has been pro-
vided for in a way that seems very satisfactory.
By day the boys are divided into six classes,
ranged on forms with desks before them, each
class being separated from the others by a
curtain which hangs from the ceiling, and is
sufficiently wide to separate the sections of
scholars from each other, and to deaden the
sounds of so large a seminary, but yet not
wide enough to prevent the master as he
stands on the side opposite his pupils, from
getting a view of the entire school. Black
boards and large slates are amongst the tools
employed for conveying instruction, but the
more advanced pupils are supplied with paper
copy-books for writing lessons. The school
is under the charge of a chief-master, far more
competent than those usually found in schools
beyond the pale of Government inspection.
He is a B.A. of the University of London, is
author of a small English grammar; and
enjoys, as he deserves, a liberal salary. Under
his hands the pupils appear to make excellent
progress. The upper classes write well to
dictation, are ready at figures, and are
practised in the grammatical construction of
English words and sentences. Twelve of the
boys are in training as teachers, and six of
these are now what is called "pupil-teachers,"
and are entitled to an allowance of money by
way of reward from the Privy Council. This
allowance is set aside for them till they
display, on examination, a sufficient proficiency
to entitle them to admission to the training-
school at Knellar Hall or Battersea. Whilst
in these higher schools they receive the
money set aside for them in the earlier stages
of their school progress, and when, by
successive examinations, their efficiency is
sufficiently tested, they pass from the grade of
pupil to that of master: the boys from
Knellar Hall being appointed schoolmasters
to Workhouses; the boys from Battersea to
be masters of National Schools in various