MAN AND WOMAN.

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was sitting downstairs. He listened. The boy sang it again. The father crept softly upstairs and asked his child what he was singing that for, and what it meant. The boy told him that Jesus died on Calvary for sinners, and shed His blood for our salvation, and said he, "father, I am going to Jesus, for Jesus died for me; and, father, Jesus died for you." The boy died. The father tried to think of something else, for he had never gone to the house of God. But wherever he went, he kept fancying he could hear his little boy singing, "There is a fountain filled with blood." He couldn't rest for thinking about it. He went to the place where his boy had been to the Sunday-school, and there he learned more of Jesus, learned to believe in Him, and to love Him, and now the father sings for himself the song his little boy used to sing:

"There is a fountain filled with blood." &c.

J. FLETCHER.

Man and Woman.

IT has been nearly a half-hundred years since some kind minds began to ask for woman all the occupations and pursuits and the form of education common to man. In an age full of sympathy and full of appreciation of woman, this reform, if we may give it such a name, advances but slowly. Great changes should indeed be made, great laws of equity should be passed, but the exact equalization of woman and man will long be delayed by the wide feeling that there are two destinies here, and that the glory of man is one, and the glory of woman is another. They are different parts of the great creation of God. Neither is superior to the other, any more than Homer is superior to Lord Bacon, or than Angelo is superior to Washington. With what comparison can we compare Paul or John with Mary or Beatrice? The harsh old world did make a comparison, and decided that man was the chief personage in rational being, and woman was remanded to a bondage from which she has not fully escaped; but if to escape from this crime we should assume the identity, mental and spiritual, of these two classes, we should again sin, this time against that law of Nature which has filled up all space with diversity. From the old wrong against women we should fly to a new wrong against the Creator. Just how near the studies and pursuits of the sister may approach those of her brother it is difficult to state in detail, but our thought begins and ends with the feeling that God has marked out different paths for these different feet, and that to compel them to march in one road is a wrong to both of the pilgrims. A grander vision is it to look out and behold two continents in the ocean of life; upon the one the stupendous structures reared by man, upon the other the more spiritual and more divine works wrought by the hand of woman. Woman has not yet found her calling to the full; but when she shall find her "lost mission," it will prove to be something very different from the destiny of true manhood. There will appear a perfect equality, but it will exist in the midst of diversity.

-From Professor D. Swing's Sermons.

Githa's Message; or, God is Lobe.

BY EMMA LESLIE.

Author of "Glaucia, the Greek Slave," "Before the Dawn," &c.

CHAPTER XI.-AT CHARING.

ERY bare and cheerless, according to our modern notions of comfort, was the mansion taken by Godrith, the Wessex thane, in the little village of Charing. An odd collection of substantially-built farms formed the whole village, and one of the largest and best of these had been purchased by Godrith; for if Harold was to be king he would often have to be at court, and this village, situated between London and the little isle of Thorney, where the palace stood, was convenient for many reasons.

It was quite an event in the life of Hilda-this removal to Charing, for no one had thought of taking her beyond her own bower, since she had been brought there a little fretful girl of twelve, who cried and complained of the fatigue and pain she endured in being brought from her former home-an isolated farmhouse belonging to her father in a distant part of Wessex. The recollection of this journey was still fresh in her memory, and made her dread the removal to Charing more than she cared to own to anyone but her favourite bower-maiden Githa. The story that her mistress related of that former journey, when she was laid in a wagon and drawn by oxen over the rough and ill-made roads, made Githa almost shudder, and she resolved to see her brother, and ask him if he could not devise a plan for carrying her beloved mistress in a less clumsy vehicle than a wagon.

Leofric was not devoid of inventive power when he had any motive for its exercise, but no one in those days thought of making life more pleasant or multiplying its domestic comforts. To eat and drink and sleep, fight and wrestle, was the aim and end of life, and those who thought it could be more than this, were considered dreamers.

But now that Githa had propounded the difficulty of removing her mistress, -for of course she would not ride on horseback, as ladies usually did-Leofric set himself steadily to think out a plan by which it might be effected without causing the lady so much fatigue and suffering.

He broached the subject to his master, but Gurth had too many other things in his mind to give very much attention to this, but he bade Leofric set his wits to work and do anything he liked to give pleasure to his sister.

The plan when thought of was simple enough, so simple that Leofric thought that they must all have been asleep for years not to have taken the lady out for many a pleasant summer ramble; for what would be easier than for the house-carles to carry her couch, while with a little contrivance, curtains might

be stretched across from upright poles, to shelter her from the rain or sun, and screen her from the gaze of passengers on the road?

Leofric was delighted with the idea, and Githa, of course, thought her brother wonderfully clever. The lady herself seemed to think him quite a genius, and decidedly promised to let him have the linen necessary for the curtains of her litter, and entered quite warmly into the discussion for affixing the upright posts to her little couch. The house-carles would carry it with the usual supports, and before the day of removal came Hilda went out for a trial trip.

It seemed to give her new life to be out in the open air, and though the trees were almost bare, for it was far on in the autumn now, she enjoyed the bright gleams of sunshine, and her mother seemed to enter into her daughter's pleasure, and declared she looked brighter and happier than she had been since she was a little girl.

The house-carles, shy and awkward at first, seemed to think they had a share in giving the lady this unwonted pleasure, and carried her as gently as possible, so that, when Hilda reached her bower again, instead of being fatigued and full of pains, she declared it was the happiest hour of her life, and she thanked the house-carles with tears in her eyes for the pleasure they had given her.

"Githa, it was like what I should fancy being in a church must be," she said, when she and Githa were left alone afterwards. "I could look right up into the blue sky, and see the white clouds sailing about the throne of God."

"Yes, heaven is God's throne, I suppose," said Githa; but I remember good Father Dunstan telling us once, that we should remember when we thought of the throne, that we were on the footstool,-not far from the throne."

"Nay, but what could he mean by that, my Githa?" said the lady; "heaven is very far off."

"Not so far but this world is the footstool, the good father said, and he was a wise and learned monk-the wisest man in Bricstowe," added Githa.

The lady looked puzzled for a few minutess, but at last she said, "If it be as thou sayest, and God is so near, verily I marvel that this world is so illmanaged, for not a day passes but we hear of some evil deeds. Gurth, my brother, told me but yesterday that a band of robbers had been seen here in our own pleasant greenwood, and but for our going to Charing so soon, he and the house-carles and ban-dogs would have hunted them further afield; for it is not well that no honest man can pass near our dwelling without being robbed and beaten."

"But, but there always have been robbers," said Githa.

"But why should there be? If God can do all things, and this world is His footstool, surely things should not be as they are. Githa, Githa, I do not like to think of this world as God's footstool," added the lady sorrowfully.

"And wherefore not, dear lady? It is a sweet thought to me that we are about the feet of God now, though the saints and angels only see His face, except it be men like our King Edward, who is now dwelling more in heaven than on earth."

"Which accounts, perhaps, for the little heed he taketh of this poor kingdom of England, except to enrich it with the relics of saints, leaving its needful defences to men like earl Harold, who hath spent half the revenue of his earldom in doing what the King should have done."

"If it were not that our King is a saint, I should think it were better not to forget that we are on God's footstool in our eagerness to see His face, but to abide in patience here, doing what we can in our poor way to make the place of God's feet somewhat more like the heavens where His face shineth."

"Why, Githa, that is only another way of saying what my brother spoke of only yesterday morn concerning the convents. He holdeth that it is selfish of good men and women to shut themselves out of the world."

"But the world liveth in wickedness," said Githa.

"But thou sayest it is the footstool of God, and my brother saith if all the good monks and nuns would do their part to better it, as earnestly and truly as doth earl Harold, the good and evil would be more fairly matched, and it might be that the good would conquer the evil at last."

But Githa shook her head.

"Thou dost not know the violence and cruelty

of wicked men in the world," she said.

"But thou hast told me of it, Githa,-of the hard, cruel man who took thee as slave to Bricstowe market, and how the good old monk rescued thee, and overcame the man's evil nature by good."

"I have often thought of it, Githa-thought that Gurth might be partly right after all, in saying that the convents robbed the world, and now if, as thou sayest, it is God's footstool, and He hath given to each one who hath listened to His voice, a message to his fellows, telling them He loves them, and would have them love Him-why, Githa, half the messengers have hidden themselves and buried the message, instead of delivering it."

"But the people will not have it; they are all cruel and wicked,” said Githa. Nay, nay, many of them have had small chance of hearing it," said the lady.

"But they can an they will,-they can go to church. Listen now to the vesper-bells that are ringing; is not that God's call to the people to go and learn of His ways ?" said Githa, earnestly.

"And dost thou not think I have often heard the vesper-bell without ever thinking of what it meant, or caring that I could not go to church. I doubt whether it can be the voice of God,-it is only a church-bell to any soul until a living voice hath spoken to them, another soul taught them, that God is love. Thou sayest the people hear the message, but in that thou doest them wrong, I ween. I was hard, and cold, and often cruel to my bower-maidens, but I was glad to hear thy message-God's message, sent by thee. I could believe it, too, because thou didst shew me something of the love in thy care and thoughtfulness for me, that did not make me scornful of thy pity, as I was of all other."

A radiant smile beamed in Githa's face as she leaned over her mistress's couch and whispered, "I could not help loving and pitying thee."

Many pitied me before thou camest, Githa, but few loved me, and it was thy tender love and compassion that made it possible for me to believe in the love of God. But the others are coming back now, and thou mayst go to thy supper;" and the next minute Githa's companions entered the room, and she went to eat what they had chosen to leave for her at the supper-table.

Her position as the favourite bower-maiden of the lady Hilda, was rather an anomalous one, for she was a slave among these free-born Saxon maidens, each of whom took it as a personal insult that she should be treated by their mistress on an equality with them. She ought to be their slave, to do their bidding, and they thought themselves wronged every time she took up her distaff, or embroidery-needle, and seated herself among them. She had hoped that this feeling would change as time went on, but all her advances towards kindness and a more friendly state of feeling had been proudly repulsed.

Hilda know something of this, and had spoken to the girls about it more than once, but she found they were not so much to be blamed as their friends. Whenever they went home this grievance of having a slave in the bower upon an equality with themselves was descanted upon, so that it was always rankling in their minds. They could not help liking Githa; they owned to themselves she was kind and forbearing-good enough to be a nun; if she would only go to a convent, and free their lady's bower from her presence, they could almost love her. How much Githa herself desired to enter a convent, and how disappointed she felt every time her mistress spoke a disparaging word of those places, they did not know, It had been her hope for years now that her mistress, having learned to love God, would quit her godless family, and in the stillness and quietness of the convent learn more of His love, and at length become a saint of renowned sanctity. Of course she would accompany her

GITHA'S MESSAGE.

303 mistress when she went, but the chance of their going at all seemed to grow less as the time went on; and Githa was both surprised and grieved that her mistress could be content to abide here, merely because her friends did not wish her to go.

There was no room here, Githa thought, for the cultivation of those Christian graces that were needful before they could hope to be saints. Her mistress could never go to church, and she herself did not go so frequently as she could wish-never to more than one service during the day; whereas if they were nuns there would be five services in the church every day, to say nothing of other devotional exercises. Of course Hilda knew nothing of all these privileges, and she listened to, and more than half believed, the stories Gurth told her of worldly bishops, who owned and traded in slaves; of rapacious priests, who cared nothing for their flocks but for the wool they could shear from them. True, she believed all she told her of the teaching of Father Dunstan, and reverenced the old monk of Bricstowe as much as she did earl Harold; but the reverence in the two cases was too nearly allied to quite satisfy Githa, for it was not the monk's fame for sanctity, but his kindness and active goodness, as well as the wise words that she had often repeated to her mistress, that drew forth the lady's reverence for the monk.

But now that Hilda could go out in her litter, Githa hoped that she would often go to church, and listening to the sweet voices of the nuns singing, surely she could not but wish to join the sisterhood. Hilda was quite as anxious as her bower-maiden to join in the public worship of God, and learn something more of His love; and she resolved to do so when they were once settled at Charing, although it would doubtless cause some surprise, and perhaps displeasure, that she should thus openly profess her attachment to God. Her family and friends prided themselves on their faithfulness to the old Norse deities, and still invoked Odin and Baldur; but in actual fact no religious belief of any kind troubled their minds beyond the superstitious fears and terrors that were common to all men, and which not even the Christian faith had been able to eradicate.

Of course the old heathen worship had long since passed away, but Hilda's friends chose to declare they were Ödin's men still, and prided themselves in never entering a church, or obeying the word of either monk or bishop, so that it required no small courage for Hilda to declare herself a Christian. She had done this quietly and unostentatiously for some time, and her mother and father could not but own that there was a wonderful change in their daughter, but they scouted the idea that her Christian faith had anything to do with this.

Godrith was going in the train of earl Harold to the consecration of the new minster, as he would go to any other court festival;—it was that to him and nothing more, and he had made an effort to secure a sheltered nook in the sacred edifice that his daughter might witness the great show-the splendid dresses of the court and bishop-for no other reason. That Hilda would care nothing for all this finery,-nay, that she would rather have dispensed with it all as distracting her attention from the sublime thought that this was God's house, the shrine which the saint-king had been years in building, and would now humbly pray the great God of heaven to consecrate by His presence. That King Edward himself should feel something of this would be quite intelligible to Godrith, for even he was not without a share of the superstitious reverence in which this last king of the royal line of Cerdic was held by his subjects, but that his daughter, or any common mortal could know anything of such an exalted feeling, he did not believe. It was well that the world was different from their saint-king, or things would be worse than they were, he argued. One saint in the land was quite enough. The King was a living proof that when men became religious they were only fit to be shut up in a convent, for they were quite unfit to fulfil the the every-day duties of life; and this Wessex thane was not alone in his opinion.