and jewelry of all kinds, that Champion, in a short time, amassed more wealth than before. By exemplary honesty, untiring energy, and strict frugality, he succeeded in becoming the possessor of that immense fortune which he employed in so noble and praiseworthy a manner. There are few persons in Paris, who have not heard of the mysterious individual who for many years was known as THE MAN WITH THE SMALL BLUE MANTLE; that individual, who as soon as the first frost of winter appeared on the Pont Neuf, appeared also with kettles full of hot soup and vegetables, with cart loads of wood and other necessaries, which he distributed, with his own hands, among the poor. He had chosen this place as the scene of his charitable acts, in memory of that time, when he had first been enabled to minister to the relief of one of his distressed fellow-beings. The name of EDME CHAMPION will live long in the hearts of thousands, who were made glad by his charities; and though he may not have won for himself a brilliant and world-renowned fame, he yet gained what was far more conducive to his happiness, and certainly far more acceptable to his Heavenly Master, the grateful blessings of those, to whose necessities he ministered. The MAN WITH THE BLUE MANTLE Continued until quite recently at his post. Whenever the swallows disappeared and winter began to set in, he was seen to go forth from his dwelling, not, indeed, to enter the mansions of the wealthy, and participate in their pleasures and enjoyments, but to take his place among the wretched and indigent, the poor and needy, in imitation of our blessed Lord. There he stood on the Pont Neuf, receiving the blessings of hundreds, whose sorrows he had come to alleviate. He had purchased all the forests in the neighborhood of Chatel-Censoir, and distributed the wood among the poor. The ragged, miserable beggars that infest Paris, like a plague, would patiently spend hours in waiting for him, and when they would finally catch a glimpse of his blue mantle at a distance, they would shout, "There comes the small blue mantle! now we will get something to eat." He especially de lighted in distributing jackets and shoes. Sometimes, for instance, when he would see some poor, half-frozen fellow, sitting shivering under the gateway, he would quickly lay hold of him, thrust his arms into a warm woollen jacket, and before the individual thus agreeably surprised could find time to stammer out his thanks, the small blue mantle was already a hundred yards off, busily engaged among the soup-kettles. In another place he would espy a little girl, crouching on some door step, endeavoring in vain to protect her shoeless feet from the stinging cold; suddenly, she would feel herself grasped from behind, placed on a friendly knee, whilst a pair of benevolent eyes would beam into her cheerless countenance, and a moment after she might be seen running round among the crowd, rejoicing in the unaccustomed luxury of a new pair of shoes. It was but natural that such a man should be almost idolized by the poor. Mothers brought their children to him, with the request that he would bless them; he alone could venture, without apprehension of danger, into the horrid dens of thieves and murderers, for any one of whom it would have been death, had he presumed to injure a hair on the good man's head. I was assured by a certain gentleman, that one of the most notoriously abandoned characters, and one who was universally feared, on one occasion fell on his knees before him, and exclaimed: "Is it then possible that such a man must walk upon the earth ?" He seemed to think that the little mantle should have been changed into wings. EDME CHAMPION died, after a short sickness, in June, 1852, at the advanced age of 89 years, justly and deeply lamented by all. His small blue mantle, so familiar to the poor of Paris, graced his coffin. You will not, I trust, regret having made his acquaintance. ASSURANCE.-Let nothing satisfy you, reader, but a scriptural, heartfelt assurance of the pardon of your sins, through repentance, and faith in the atoning blood of Jesus Christ. "LOOKING UNTO JESUS." BY REV. DANIEL GARVER. In the entire range of human knowledge can be found but one example worthy of imitation by every man. The world knows but One, who has been "HOLY, HARMLESS, UNDEFILED AND SEPARATE FROM SINNERS." With all their malice, infidelity and wickedness have failed to fasten a single stain on the Redeemer's character. He shines as ever, "The brightness of God's glory." Not a fault, or foible, not a single error or weakness can be pointed out in the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, not one. Whence then the opposition to Christ and His Kingdom? It comes hence, that light having come into the world, "men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil." To the mass of the Jews, to whom he came in person, instead of being "the fairest among ten thousand, and the one altogether lovely," he was the meanest of earth, and the one perfectly hateful. They could see no beauty or comeliness in him, that they should desire him. They cursed him, they gnashed their teeth on him, they belied him, they smote him, they condemned him that was innocent, "they crucified him." But hear the benignant Saviour, amid the ago nies of crucifixion, praying for his enemies and persecutors: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Well might the ingenuous Roman centurion exclaim, as with amazement and horror he viewed the scene, "Surely this was the Son of God!" He that possessed all things, "for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might be rich." O man, look unto him, walk in his footsteps, imitate his bright and glorious example! Whenever the cry of distress assailed his ear, or suffering met his eye, his generous bosom heaved with compassion, and his sacred hands administered the blessings of his grace. "He was, emphatically, the minister of the poor, and the friend of the wretched." As a gracious, merciful physician, he came to the sick, the afflicted. His course led him through the dark valley of humiliation. He, "who thought it not robbery to be equal with God," who was the express image of his person," became accursed, that he might restore the remnant of his people. In view of the eternal weight of glory that should be realized by the redeemed, he uncomplainingly suffered the abuse of the world. He was the living embodiment of that charity so eloquently described by his apostle, writing to the Corinthian Christians (1 Cor. 13). At what stage of his course shall we view him? Hear the praises of those whose eyes, at his command, the cheering light enters for the first time, whose ears were first opened to the music and harmony of nature, whose distorted and useless limbs were made straight, so that they could leap and walk, whose diseases fled at his approach. Behold the poor and despised, listening eagerly to the glad tidings of great joy, for "to the poor the Gospel is preached." Hear the words of life and salvation as they flow from his lips, as seated on a mountain, he makes known the true philosophy of life. His words were precious words, finer than gold, and sweeter than the droppings of the honeycomb. Looking unto Jesus. Oh, what a pattern of holiness, of every excellence! Every true follower of the Redeemer is a stream of living water in the earth; he is a blessing to the world, continually sending out healthful influences; he is a burning, shining light; he is a "tree of righteousness." Looking unto Jesus. Imitate no man, nor high angel, farther than he imitates Christ. The Queen of the South (from the distant land of Sheba in Southern Arabia), came to see the wisdom and glory of Solomon, whom men regarded as the perfection of human greatness, and whose reign was the golden age of Jewish history, but " a greater than Solomon is here." Solomon was only the glow-worm in the dust, shedding a single ray of light, whilst Jesus Christ is the brilliant sun; that light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world. We fail to lay hold of Christ; fail to appreciate him. His name has become a familiar song; we dwell on it without interest; we sing of it with dulness. O thou Saviour! enable us to enter more fully into thy acquaintance! Help us to know thee, that we may be like thee! My fellow-traveller to eternity, dost thou desire happiness here, and eternal life, and joy hereafter? look unto Jesus, he will give Go to thee more than thou canst desire. him with humility, reverence, faith and earwithnestness, and he will not send thee away out filling thy heart with gladness, and granting thee that peace which passeth understanding, and a hope which maketh not ashamed. (For the Lutheran Home Journal.) A PLEA FOR THE HOMELESS. WRITTEN ON BEHALF OF THE NORTHERN HOME FOR FRIENDLESS CHILDREN. BY THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. Have ye not heard the voice of Desolation? To rise, and straightway answer the demand? Oh happy mothers, in your homes protected, Let those dear looks, so full of earthly splendor, Sweet plants there are which bloom in sultry places, Lo, the example for our guidance given,— In sacred light our duty stands revealed! O ye, whose hearts, amid the worldly noises, WELL SAID. "If I were not a Christian," remarks CUMMINGS, "I might be a Roman Catholic, but now this is impossible." VOL. II. NO. 1. 2 RAILROAD REFLECTIONS. No. 4. BY LEWIS L. HOUPT. READER, have you ever attempted to walk upon a rail, as it stretches itself on, mile after mile, over the rough crossties and broken stones that form its bed? I remember in my school-boy days how often I made the attempt, and as often failed. A few steps were all I could accomplish, until, by repeated practice in careful balancing, I was able to walk perhaps the length of a rail or two. I noticed only recently a little girl, who, with her father, was walking beside the railroad track on a calm, bright evening, ere the sun went down. The little girl was full of glee, and her frolicsome nature led her to stop and pick up the beautiful pebbles and bright leaves that strewed her path-for it was autumn. Suddenly a bright thought struck her. "Father," she exclaimed, "let me walk upon this rail," and forthwith her tiny feet attempted to follow the narrow path; but as often as she tried, they slipped off, and came in contact with the rough stones. Tired with the fruitless effort, she began to complain; when her father bade her not be discouraged, but try again. She did try, but with the same want of success, and was about to abandon the effort, when her father, in a kind tone, said: "Now, my daughter, take hold of my hand, and then see if you cannot walk the rail." She immediately placed her little hand confidingly in his, and, guided by a stronger arm, she was enabled to walk with ease along the narrow track. May this not be made aptly to illustrate the Christian course? The path of duty stretches onward, over the roughnesses of life; and how often have we lost our balance, how often have our feet slipped off, as we essayed to walk the narrow path before us! Some are yet young, and are not strong in faith, and hence they cannot walk firmly in the way of duty. Some are allured to one side, or the other, to pick up the bright pebbles, or the fading leaves, which a deceitful world presents; and which, when gathered, are found worthless. Others are surrounded | gently stirs the leaf on the green bough of by clouds and darkness, and cannot discern the path before them. Their Christian course is attended with many failures. They, perhaps, grow weary in well doing, and slipping from the path, encounter the roughnesses of life-the sneers and scoffs of wicked men and the reproaches of conscience! But, be not dismayed! How many discouragements did CHRISTIAN meet with before he was delivered of his heavy burden, and how many more before he reached the Celestial City. the forest, or tears the oak from its ancient and rooted bed; alike it tells of majesty and power, and stands forth amid the wonders of creation, endowed with a spirit that mingles with the elements and moves them at its will. We feel it in the faint hues of twilight, fanning the cheek with its airy wings, and soothing the anguish of the troubled bosom; and when the big tornado comes bounding over the mountains, crashing the tall trees, and bringing desolation upon the beautiful and peaceful valley, we pause to contemplate the devastation of its awful footsteps, and raise our thoughts to the Being who "rides upon the whirlwind and directs the storm." It urges the gentle gale that wafts the mariner to his destined haven, while the smoothly undulating sea sparkles in the sunbeams and dances beneath his prow; and when the wrathful hurricane booms along the surface of the waters, and bows the gallant ship before the sweeping of its stormy pinions, it enters into and rules the wild commotion. And who is insensible to the discourse of its strong and emphatic language? Who can listen to its tones, when he stands upon the mountain top, and hears them as they wail around him, and not receive the impress of the saddened feeling they seem so articuHERE is a grandeur in the reckless lately to express; or when the light breeze Let all then who attempt to walk the (6 narrow way" remember that their heavenly Father is beside them! whether bending under a load of care, or tempted to swerve from the path of duty, or weak in faith, or surrounded by darkness and affliction! His kind hand is ever outstretched to aid you! A watchful Providence accompanies every step of life, and though your path be very narrow, yet with childlike faith in his goodness and love, place your hand in that of your heavenly Father, and he will conduct you safely along, until you reach your eternal home. THE WIND. BY JAMES G. BROOKS. of ocean, when the tems pest arouses its billows from their secret depths-there is a terror in the convulsive throes of the giant earthquake, when its mysterious energies combine to shake the foundations of the vast globe-and a beauty in the calm sunshine, when it sheds its rich and mantling glory over field and mountain, lake and river-that lifts the soul aloft with enthusiasm, depresses it with fear, or animates it with pure and elevated emotion, as their different and various phenomena prevail; but there is another of the great and living intelligences of nature, that claims a more extended dominion, and awakens a separate and untaught feeling. It is the viewless, yet mighty WIND.Whether breathing in the soft and grateful air of summer, or swelling in the terrific strivings of the winter storm-whether it armed for battle, when its rushings resemble the boundings of the war-horse as it comes careering past him, who does not catch the stirring impulse and respond to the thrillings of patriotic ardor. When the poet wanders forth to mark the beauties of nature and feed his fancy with her glowing images, he welcomes the zephyr that sports around his path, laden with fragrance from the " sunny south"-for he feels that the sweetest inspiration of his lyre springs from the memories that gush up from their silent fount at the magic whisperings of its voice, and he woos its influence; he acknowledges poetry to be an inherent principle in the harmonies of the visible world, and catches its softer beauties from the mild and playful breeze, while the deep and rushing gale gives birth to its wildest intonations. Even in the crowded city, where the structures of human pride and human necessity encumber the fair surface of creation, the wind-god cheers the "peopled desert," when he comes like a guardian angel to visit the cheeks of its pent-up inmates, and chase away the dense and noxious vapors that hover above its domes and spires, obscuring the splendor of the meridian sun. There the poet leans over the casement of his solitary chamber, as he bares his pale forehead in the shades of evening, when the tired wind comes in from the great deep and lingers as it passes along the hot walls of the "thronged and busy mart," ere it roams beside the winding river up to the solitudes of the green forest-and indulges in his fanciful and lonely musings, or pours forth his willing tribute to the Eolian deity, in numbers like to these, by the gifted and enthusiastic Bryant, whose soul is ever lifted in happy communion with other spheres and more distant worlds: "Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee "Nor I alone-a thousand bosoms round "Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest, Curl the still waters bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest Summoning from the innumerable boughs, The strange deep harmonies that haunt his breast; Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass, And twixt the o'ershadowing branches and the grass. "The faint old man shall lean his silver head To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep, And dry the moistened curls that overspread His temples, while his breathing grows more deep; And softly part his curtains to allow There breathes the language of true poesy-there echoes the easy and harmonious touchings of a master hand. And the picture is true to the lineaments of nature-the coloring faithful to the hues of reality; there is no stretch into the airy fields of fancy for imagery—no search for the splendid draperies of fiction, but its simple and expressive melody bespeaks the fervor of its inspiration. Although the poet alone is capable of feeling so vividly the harpings of the breeze that chime in unison with the aspirations of the muse, yet its music falls upon the ear of the weary artisan, as he hurries homeward after the toils of day are over, and it meets from him an equally sympa. thetic welcome. I remember among the earliest friends of my youth, one who was singularly sensible to the romantic and indefinable excitement of thisi nvisible and conscious element. When the storm unfurled its murky wings, and stretched them for its fearful flight, he saw in its dark features the frownings of the Everlasting countenance, when he holds the lightnings in his grasp and shapes the pathway of the thunder-cloud-and he gave the warm devotion of his heart to Him who guided and governed all: yet his silent adoration rose unrepressed by the formal dogmas of sect or creed-for he little needed the glow worm lamp of man to light him to the path of duty, when the glorious sun of truth so forcibly flashed conviction on his mind, and taught him the high and holy attributes of his Creator. Though immature in years he possessed a vigor of thought and sublimity of sentiment but seldom found in the ranks of ripened manhood. His conceptions were of the chastest and loftiest character, and the exhaustless fund of vivid and original thought that dwelt within him, imparted to his discourse a charm which held the listener fast to its pleasing spell. He was a votary of nature, and idolized her in her works-which were to him the outspreadings of a purer page than claims the attention of the searcher for scholastic lore; for he mixed not with "the world," and had not been contaminated with its base pursuits, nor worshipped at |