as to be ready to meet him, and present my account to him? Fifthly, Is my talent, or any part of it, in the napkin? Methinks there were never so many napkins in use in the church of God as now. We have napkins of all sorts, and all sizes. They look so white, they are folded so tastefully, they are laid up so carefully, that few suspect what they are made of, what they contain, or that they will bring shame and confusion upon their owners at last. It is to these napkins that we must ascribe our want of village preachers, Sunday school teachers, tract distributors, sick visitors, praying brethren, good singing, useful conversation, crowded chapels, and full exchequers. Whatever the Lord may find in my possession when he comes, may he never find a napkin: he left his own buried in his tomb, and what a mercy it would be if every one found in the church were buried there too! Cheltenham. DOES GOD CARE FOR US? BY MRS. H. B. STOWE. "I will cry unto God most high,-unto God, that performeth all things for me."Psalm lvii. 2. The psalms of David are an anomaly in ancient literature. In no contemporary writer, in none preceding, is there any intercourse chronicled between the divine and human spirit like that expressed in these. Other writings have often the soul's aspirations to Deity; but they have no record of communion in return. But the psalms are as full of indications of God's voice to the soul, as of the soul's voice to God. They are as full of allusions which show intimate personal acquaintance, as are the letters of a child to a parent. Witness, in this place, how David, in trouble, speaks of God. As the merchant speaks of the banker who honours his drafts, as the ward speaks of the guardian who arranges his affairs, in a familiar matter-of-course way, so David in his trouble speaks of God who performeth all things for him! This is not a God yet to be tried; but a God who has helped him so often, that the thought of him comes naturally as his breathing; the soul turns to him as instinctively as the infant lifts its hands on every emergency to the mother who "performeth all things for him." All religion is grounded on man's helplessness. Every man is pushed into existence much like a stranger stranded on a desolate island. He enters a great crushing system of unknown laws, moving with inflexible regularity, and with the most total disregard of the individual suffering caused by their inflexibility. The future is hid by an impenetrable veil; and there are coming upon him, daily and hourly, from this quarter or that, sources of alarm, distress, and anxiety, which force the most selfconfident to stand in utter helplessness. The history of man has been the history of one long struggle for help. Generation after generation, in their darkness and ignorance, are landed on these mortal shores to find their way amid the conflicting powers of nature as they are best able; and no sooner do they acquire a little insight and a little experience, than death hurries them out of sight. Therefore, the great underlying question of all religion is, Does God care for us-will he help us? It was claimed by the Hebrews, as the peculiarity of their religion, that it gave the most entire and satisfactory answer to this question. Moses says, "For what nation is there that hath God so nigh unto them as the Lord our God is, in all things that we call upon him for ?" The history of the earlier patriarchs is most touching and most consoling in the view which it presents of God tenderly guiding man, even as a nurse guides the tottering steps of an infant. How different are the recorded patriarchal prayers from the things that often pass for prayers in modern churches! The patriarchal prayers were, in directness and simplicity of utterance, much like those which your little son addresses to you, as he sits on your knee by the flickering evening firelight. He turns to you as the one that "performeth all things for him," and just so did Abraham, Jacob, and David turn to God. To him you are unbounded in resources. It never enters his head to question either your ability or your willingness to help him to anything he desires. It has never entered his head to sort out his requests, and to ask only such things as he thinks of a suitably dignified and important nature, to be mentioned to a man of your worth and wisdom; but he thinks aloud to you, urging with equal zeal for the bread that supports his life, and the plaything that seems essential to his childish fancy, Precisely like this was the Hebrew idea of prayer. I will not leave you orphans, said Jesus, I will come to you; and in the old Hebrew revelations that same gracious utterance is heard. The most beautiful medium in which has been embodied this idea of the simple walk of the trustful spirit with God, is the life and writings of the poet David. In him we trace the history of a sensitive, poetic nature, born in rough age, in a family of rude, warlike brothers, to whom the womanly tenderness of his nature was only an argument of mirth and derision. In such a soul the burden of feeling becomes too great to be borne alone. It has a thousand trembling wants, a thousand sensitive shrinkings, thousand peculiar sorrows, and who can understand them? But the poet's heart found refuge in another heart; a soul of infinite tenderness opened itself to him as a refuge, and from that hour he was alone no more. Sweet as an enchanted dream was his life, who saw, ever moving by his side, a form of eternal Love and Power,-One to whom the throbbings of his heart could utter themselves without words. Thenceforward, amid the cares and contentions of a rude outer world, was there evermore an inward sanctuary; he breaks forth sometimes in exclamations of joy on this sheltered security of the trusting soul: "O how great is Thy goodness which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee, which thou hast wrought for them that trust in thee before the sons of men. Thou shalt hide them in the secret of thy presence from the pride of man; thou shalt keep them secretly as in a pavilion from the strife of tongues." How different this experience of David from that of many well-meaningchristians! What experience have they that can be expressed by the simple phrase, "God that performeth all things for me"? Fenced about by philosophy, they see in life's history only the movement of a great machine, working by inevitable laws, with which God has no connections. except in distant perspective, as first originator. Why should I pray p they say. Will God alter the laws of nature for me? And with this cold enquiry they smother the hearts yearning for help, and walk all their days orphans in their Father's house. There is bread enough and to spare, but they perish with life-long hunger. All their days they go bowed with cares and anxieties which wear their hearts out, simply because they will not ask their Father to help them. If a man would for only one day imitate his little child, and pray to God as that little one does to him, he would make a discovery that might add years to his life. For what frets the soul away? what silvers the hair, wrinkles the cheek, dims the eye? One word speaks it: CARE. The holy word says, Casting ALL your care on Him, for he careth for you." Human reasoning says, Casting your great cares on Him. God is not a God who performeth all things for us, but only great things at long intervals." Ah! could we but know it, to God everything is great that is of importance enough to cost us a tear, a sigh, a wakeful hour, an anxious thought. Does not a wise father watch over his son's kite, and skates, and top, es much as over his school bills and grammar? Does he not appreciate the influence on the forming character of all the anxieties they give him? And is God less wise? How much purer and wiser were the course of worldly affairs, were God the intimate Counsellor in them, the Friend to whom the soul continually turns! Then only is life fully consecrated, when in all our family arrangements, our business, our pleasures, our friendships, our amusements, we consult our Father, and say, in little cares as in great, I will cry unto God most high: unto God that performeth all things for me. THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. Sweet is the privilege of prayer, To leave our every burden there, And gain new strength to run our race; And sweet the whisper of His love, When conscience sinks beneath its load, That bids our guilty fears remove, And points to Christ's atoning blood. Sweet is the peace that Jesus gives, When all around is dressed in gloom; And, oh, 'tis sweet, when we begin Rising superior to decay,- But to behold Immanuel's face, From sin and sorrow to be freed, And yet, through free and sovereign grace, Before the throne to fiud a place, That bright unfading crown to wear, Christian Heroes. No. 12.-CONCLUSORY. We have now come to the close of our series of papers on "Christian Heroes." If any of our readers have accompanied us in the varied fields we have traversed, with any of the pleasure and profit we have ourselves derived, our reward will be complete. It only remains for us to make one or two concluding and farewell remarks. It is always a good thing to study the lives of great and good men. Being thus in their company, and walking by their side, their influence is likely to make our character partake somewhat of their own. The chief thing to be remembered, however, is, that they are placed before us for this purpose, that we may follow them so far as their example is worthy to be followed, and so far as the principles which guided their conduct are applicable to our own position. There is no good quality that we observe in others that we may not follow there is nothing great or heroic even that may not furnish an example to us. Now, our studies have been necessarily confined to those who have occupied the more prominent posts of Christian Action. Our eyes have been fixed on the men who have, in various ages, been the defenders and supporters of God's truth; and, in many of those into whose company we have been brought, there has been the mark, not only of goodness, but of greatness,-there have been characteristics which have made them not merely dear to the christian, but have given them a right to an exalted position in the history of the world. But let not any one imagine, that because he may not aspire to the high positions which these men occupied, their history is to him válueless. All cannot be great,nor is it desirable that all should be so; and the aspirations after greatness, which have prompted many a boyish dream, and which are still filling the hearts of many who are by our side, have passed, and will pass away, as boyish dreams yield to manhood's realities. But though all cannot be great, all may make greatness their model, and thus become greater than they would otherwise be: and, though all cannot rise to the dignity of character and the high influence that some have done, there are none who canno, by God's help, be as good even as they. When shall the time come when men will recognise goodness as better than greatness, and will find the truest heroes in those who struggle most valiantly with the evils in and about themselves? How much of heroism may there be in the every-day life of every one. The poor labourer may be a hero as much as-perhaps more easily than-the rich and the great; the silent and unknown toiler and struggler may be a hero as much as he upon whom all eyes are fixed! How stern oftentimes is the struggle with self,-with the evil in the heart ever working for development in the life. That poor pale man, there, with lips compressed, may be struggling with temptation manfully enough for angels at least to regard him as a hero! And then, the circumstances in which men are placed, how trying they are often to the character and principles. Job was a hero in that he did not "curse God and die;" and many since his day have partaken of his heroism when they, too, have been suffering. Poor sufferer, stretched on thy bed of agony, thou mayest be a hero, when thou layest passive in the arms of Infinite Love! Bereaved one, thou mayest be a hero, when thou whisperest, as the dear ones are removed, "It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good!" Poverty-stricken christian, thou mayest be a hero, when thou trustest even the provision of daily bread to Him who never leaves, never forsakes, those who trust him! Nor are these, and such as these, the only manifestations of christian heroism possible to us. There is evil around us all that we may contend with; there is darkness that we may try to remove. It is not needful that we should go to the end of the world to become heroes in the struggle with evil; there is evil ever near us, if we look for it,-perhaps at our next door! Look not scornfully, reader, on that humble teacher of children,-in his struggle with their waywardness, and in his efforts to train them for God, he is a hero! That faithful pastor, that village preacher, that mother, labouring ever prayerfully among the dear ones at home, -oh, look not haughtily on these, and such as these, for they are heroes! All that is required of us, that we may be heroes, is that we fill well the position in which we are placed, and fulfil nobly the duties imposed on us. We had rather, in view of the last day, be the good and holy man who is struggling on through life, with no eye watching him but God's, than occupy the highest posts in the church or the world, with love less earnest, and devotion less complete! Reader, our last word to thee is, Seek to be a HERO! Depend on it, heroism is possible enough to you, if you have but the heroic spirit! Seek not so much a high sphere for the development of your heroism; be a hero where you are! And if you are not recognized on earth, believe that you will be recognized in the great day of award! One of the most impressive passages in the whole of the sacred writings is that in St. Paul's noble epistle to the Hebrews:"Wherefore, seeing we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight." Oh, how these witnesses crowd around our path. Tales and Sketches. PERPLEXED AND PACIFIED. THREE CHAPTERS ON, WORK. CHAPTER III. THE LETTER OF A WORKING MAN. Nearly every town in our country has now an institution which provides for the intellectual improvement of adults. In large places there are two or more called, according to their character, or the fancy of their members, the Athenæum, the Literary, or the Mechanics' Institution. The town of B-, being of considerable size, had an upper and a lower house of popular literature. The latter was intended for the working class. It had an extensive library, and the table of the reading room was well supplied with periodicals and newspapers. Although on some accounts it is to be regretted that most of those who frequented the place went mainly to read "the latest intelligence" from abroad, yet it was pleasing to find that so many went there in preference to going to the public-house for a dearer and grosser pleasure. Among the readers present about eight o'clock in the evening, a week after our last reference to him, was George Pearson. He was just in the middle of an account of the capture of a runaway slave in a city of one of the Northern States of America, and had given expression to the feelings which its perusal had excited by exclaiming, loud enough for every one near him to hear, "Horrible, horrible!" when some one tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, "What is ?" Looking up, he beheld the countenance of Mr. Hamilton, and thought it not a little singular that his thoughts and feelings were running in much the same channel as when they last met. The schoolmaster beckoned Pearson to the end of the room where the book shelves stood, and was calling his attention to a volume containing the autobiography of a fugitive slave, as Mr. Gilby entered the place and came up to them. This individual was collector of the poor-rate in the parish in which Pearson lived, and was a member of the same dissenting church with Mr. Hamilton. He also knew Pearson very well from calling at his house, and meeting him in the reading room. As might be expected, their conversation turned upon the subject of slavery, but as they were afraid of disturbing the other persons present, and each seemed in the mind for a peripatetic discussion, they |