5. Then we come on to the fifth great priestly task of _service_. I was talking to a little boy of nine. His mother had turned his beautiful home into a hospital for wounded soldiers. She herself was girded, dressed as a nurse, and the little fellow was in bed, rather seedy that day, and I sat down on his bed at his mother's request to have a chat with him. He said: "I love, Bishop, having the soldiers here; we cannot go back to our old life after the war." There is nothing so good as a life lived out in service, every day helping other people, and, if we are going to carry nothing else away, we are going to carry away this, that there is nothing so valuable as service. Even the lad's mother, a rich woman, who had served for ten months as a nurse, said: "Had I only known, Bishop, what to do before, I should have done it. This ten months has been the most delightful service to me I have ever had in my life." How can you girls, working girls many of you, serve in your daily life? All the work you do for the nation in the great factories of Nottingham, done honestly and straightforwardly, as young priests, with no bad language or bad stories allowed amongst you, is all recognised, and all blessed as part of your priestly service. But you can do more than that. I find again and again that in London the best Sunday School teachers, the best girl guides, the best members of the League of Honour there, are hard-working girls. Their service has gone beyond their professional work, and they also use their leisure time at home. They are the best girls at home their mothers ever had. I remember a father saying to me: "Mr. Ingram, I'm not much of a churchgoer myself"--he did not come at all, as a matter of fact--"but I will say this, that my boy as does go is the best boy I have got." What we want them to say about the girl who goes to church or chapel is: "She is the best girl we have got at home, the most willing, the most satisfactory, and the most loving." There, then, you have the five priestly functions to discharge, and you have got to discharge them "_for their sakes_," as well as for your own. For whose sake? First for the sake of the boys, who are dead. There is a beautiful poem about the other world, which was given me the other day, and which I pass on to you in the hope that it may bring a little cheer in the dark night to any present who have lost their brothers, any mothers who have lost their sons. "Lest Heaven be for the greybeards hoary, GOD, who made boys for His delight, Goes in earth's hour of grief and glory, And calls the boys in from the night. When they come trooping from the War Our skies have many a new gold star. "Heaven's thronged with gay and careless faces, New waked from dreams of dreadful things. They walk by green and pleasant places And by the crystal water-springs; Forget the nightmare field of slain, And the fierce thirst and the strong pain.