u are doing the Lord's work, and I feel
that all the money belongs unto Him, and I am only his steward."

What is the ultimate design of Christ knocking at the door of the heart?
Is it not that we may be like Him? He gave himself for us. Can we then
withhold our alms to the poor? He may take His departure, and we may
receive in our hearts the spirit of avariciousness and selfishness. I am
sure if any of the ladies connected with the New York Bible Society will
read the simple story of God's dealings with this missionary woman,
their hearts will swell with great gratitude and gladness, to think that
God enabled them to contribute of their substance to the poor and needy,
through this humble worker in the master's vineyard. Let us ever
remember that we are under peculiar obligations to God for _all_ we have
and all we so richly enjoy. Our true condition is one of absolute
subserviency and absolute dependence. We are not our own, we are bought
with a price, even the peace-speaking blood of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Our hand must clothe the humble poor,
Our store the hungry feed.
Our homes the stranger must receive
And shelter in his need;
Each others burdens we must bear,
Each others faults forgive,
And thus in perfect peace with all,
And perfect union, live.

What an astonishing amount of pathos is manifested in the joyous
outbursts of gratitude and thankfulness in the heart of this boy when
their wants were supplied, indicated by his child-like words: "Mamma,
mustn't you get down and pray, and thank God for all these things?"
Absorbed in serious reflection, he instantly and spontaneously
recognized God as "the giver of every good and perfect gift, the father
of lights with whom there is no variableness, nor the least shadow of
turning." Surely out of the mouths of babes and sucklings He hath
perfected praise. It is remarkable how quickly children recognize
heavenly things. Train up a child in the way it should go, and when it
is old it will not depart from it. The early desire to pray deeply,
implanted in the tender breast by the mother, can never be obliterated.

CHAPTER XVII.

LEADING SOULS TO CHRIST.

Hark! through Nature's vast cathedral,
Blended echoes ever rise,
Swelling in a mighty anthem
To its overarching skies.

Every great and noble action
Is re-echoed o'er and o'er;
Life itself is but an echo
Of the lives that we