In America the fire of charity inflamed the hearts of pious emigrants. The Swedes founded a "Home," in Chicago. The Norwegians erected a kindred Asylum in Milwaukee. St. Louis is the seat of another.

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T American-born Christians felt moved to follow so commendable an example. The German Churches saw, loved and acted. The Reformed Church deliberated long, and slowly prepared to begin. In 1862 only did she lay her hand to the work at Bridesburg. Brother Boehringer and his excellent wife were the humble pioneer instruments in the movement. One single orphan forms the nucleus. The saintly couple passed to their reward, but their works followed them. The "Home grew in stature and in the affection of the Church. But its proportions were soon found to be too limited; its location not happy, and its arrangements ill-adjusted. We searched for a different latitude. By Providence our "Home" is planted in Tulpehocken, a region in East Pennsylvania. In an ancient "Church Register "the oldest extant in our denomination in America-it is noted, that John Henry Goetschy preached in the extensive territory of " Skippack, Old and New Goshenhoppen, Swamp, Suucon, Egypt, Macedonia, Masillon, Oley, Bern, and Tulpehocken." This was his diocese. Is it by accident, then, that our "Orphan Home"-the first and principal one in our Church-should be located in the oldest missionary territory of the first known Reformed minister in North America? This is the primitive American soil to the Reformed Church, and here lies even yet her main strength, dormant though it be, to a large extent. It is but right, therefore, that this "Home" should be planted here. The God who directs the swallow's advent and departure has not had His eye closed on this movement of charity. Here let it ever stand, on our original Reformed soil, and in the heart of our sincere membership, appealing silently and eloquently to them for their aid and prayers. It will do this by its simple presence; for

"Things seen are more powerful than things heard."

May they prove themselves worthy of entertaining God's children, since the poor are God's people. May they never be arraigned in the judgment under the fearful indictment:-"I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not." Let all strive to merit the opposite to all this, by doing all the requirements of charity to these little ones, since it is an act performed towards Christ Himself.

If a single county can erect an alms-house, grand and imposing, and maintain it, cannot a Church, extending over a whole chain of counties and States, sustain an Orphan Home? If Cæsar can thus move his subjects, cannot God likewise inspire His children?

In faith, hope, and charity, then, let us dedicate this "Home"-this "Orphan Home of the Shepherd of Lambs." Let us de icate it to God

--the Father of the fatherless. Let us dedicate it to the German Reformed Church, the guardian angel and foster mother over it. Let us dedicate it to the use of homeless children, as their dwelling place.

And may Jesus, the Good Shepherd, feed them unto eternal life.

A RAMBLE THROUGH THE WOODS IN OCTOBER.

BY VIOLA.

To me a walk in the woods is a solace in all seasons. It invigorates the spirits, soothes care, and sharpens the sense of existence.

But October, and the mellow Indian summer! how it stirs within us the old feeling of childhood! and we must away to the woods, and, in the silence of majestic forests

"Read whisperingly, The gospel of the stars, great Nature's Holy writ."

The present season has been unusually lavish in its gift of balmy days, and on the afternoon of one of its brightest, we donned our walking apparel and started. Along the horizon lay a mantle of yellow haze, which mingled with the azure of a clear sky. The spirit of the golden autumn brooded over all The air was filled with pleasant sounds, which the very hush of nature but brought out more plainly. Inert lite dinned with a drowsy hum upon the ear. The brook sang musically, and the peculiar husbandry of the country was in itself a charm.

Who, with a trusting heart, can walk abroad where nature leads, and not see the secret of her wisdom revealed on every hand? Each change discloses new and other friends-the wintry chill causes the death of flowers, but the first breath of Spring brings renewed life and bloom.

I love to seek the depths of forests in hours of peace-in times of joy ;-and even when my soul is sad, with comfort do I greet the elm, and birch, and pine, and claim the gifts of hope from oak, and fir, and linden tree. Methinks they whisper in full chorus: "We are children sent to dwell on earth with thee, we seek no sorrow, but give light and joy to all. In Spring-time we hasten to display all our bloom to entice the birds to shelter amid our branches. The Spring flowers yield to bursting leaves and we stand forth in all our summer glory. The red maple the glistening pine and generous chestnut, gaily plumed, have no bitter pangs of envy. And well mayest thou linger slowly now within our bosky depths, where seas of emerald shade lave thy soul, and peace embraces thy stricken heart with a mother's loving arms. Here the tender winds woo the laughing leaves and the birds minstrel forth their happy lays of dear content and hope fulfilled-and life seems to these one dream of poetry."

Time never folds his silent wings, and new hours lead on to fresh wonders. It seems but yesterday we revelled amid the summer's glories and now trophied autumn reigns. Had Spring's gentle voice tidings of gorgeousness like this? Did the Summer know that such unseen splendor would follow in her train? Enchantment, fairer than dreams of youth, overtakes every spray and bough, and the amber autumn air tempts us on and on. Whence came this glory, and whither is its magic goal? But I may not, dare not, question high fulfilment like this. The days are ever onward,-wherefore are we and whither are we going, our reason has no need to seck. We know we have our being through the mercy of the great Creator; and faith dispenses a beauty and love and joy over all.

The vanished flowers of early Spring were but the seed for goodlier fruit, and thus their destiny has been fulfiled. In all my rambles through this world, I find nothing that will not change and die, save the beauty and poetry of things; these cannot pass away. God's eternal thought still goes on and on! And is there no voice in all this, teaching us to act well our part in life? And am I to die? Will I be remembered when my body is laid deep in the cold, cold ground? If I die what loss will it be to the universal brotherhood? Will the world be the loser or gainer by the event? How many times we ask ourselves these questions! What an incentive we have to live in such a manner that when we are gone, we may be missed, may leave a bright record behind, and not pass away, as the frost-touched leaf, to be forgotten when no longer visible.

And thus we mused and dreamed that golden afternoon, amid the fading splendors of the dim old woods. Lovingly we lingered drinking in the inspiration of the hour, until the sinking of the sun westward warned us to hasten homeward, ere the dews of twilight fell.

What a mystery is life! Try as I may, I cannot fathom it. How plainly I see my own littleness in this great world! Some one says

"Life at best

Is but a jest,

A dreary winter's day."

And yet it cannot be all a jest; for there is too much reality. But I should not murmur. He that created me, knew what was best for me, and willeth all things well.

EDITOR'S DRAWER.

MISCONDUCT AT CHURCH.

THEOPHILUS is in trouble. "My pew happens to be toward the door of the church. I try my utmost to collect my thoughts and demean myself as a devout worshipper. But all around me are young people of both sexes, who exchange notes, and engage in whispering and laughing. Even while the minister prays, they misbehave. When I try to sing and pray, they tempt me to feel angry. I sometimes think I would sin less by staying at home, reading and praying to myself, than by attending church, to be thus provoked. Some of them are even church members. Can the GUARDIAN tell me what I had better do?" You are not the only one that is troubled in this way. As "misery .loves company," it may be a comfort for you to know this. It is bad enough that people living in a civilized country should not know how to behave themselves at religious worship. There is a certain class of young people, who attend night service, chiefly to have some fun. They always try to get seats near the door, as far from the pulpit as possible. Here the minister can not notice their misconduct so readily. Of course, everybody knows that none but rowdies will be guilty of such conduct; if they are members of the church, they are renegade members, and traitors to Christ, wounding the Saviour in the house of his friends. And females, who are guilty of such irreverent conduct, are rude women, and no ladies. The trouble with such people is, that they have lost all sense of shame. Any one who has no reverence for God, or his house, can have no respect for himself or others. Good people know this. Hence they regard these disturbers of religious services as people of the "baser sort." What is to be done? Tell your pastor. He will stop in the midst of his

sermon, and point them out before the whole congregation. Tell the Elders and Deacons to sit among them, and command silence. If that will not cure them, let the church compel them to take seats nearer the pulpit, where everybody can see and hear them. Of course every earnest follower of Christ, will shun this rabble as he would shun a brood of vipers. They have souls, and we must do all we can to save them, by bringing them under the influence of the preached Word, and the grace of public worship. But not at the risk of desecrating the temple of God, and unfitting his people for its solemn services. But happen what may, dear "Theophilus," do not stay at home. If you cannot worship comfortable in your present pew, get another, nearer the pulpit. If there are no others to be had, ask some of your friends to take you in. Sit on the pulpit steps, or carry your own chair to church every Sunday, and sit in the aisle, rather than remain at home.

SUNDAY WORK.

LAURA says: "I am obliged to sew during the week. This dooms me to a confined life. I often long to spend more time in the pure open air, and enjoy God's beautiful works. By Saturday evening I feel exhausted, and yearn for rest. But alas! Sunday brings the work equally confining. In the morning I teach my class in Sunday School; after that attend church. At 2 P. M., Sunday School again. In the evening church. In this way I spend five or six hours every Sunday within doors. Now, although I walk a few miles in the open air going to Sunday School and church, it seems to me like a confining work-day, which fails to give me the rest I long for. I have an interesting class of children in Sunday School, whom I love dearly. It would be a great trial to part with them, and equally trying not to go to church. "What shall I do?"

What would you do, if you should quit both? Walk about all Sunday in the open country? That might be possible in Summer, but not very appropriate for a Christian. Stay at home, and have the Sunday to yourself? That would be as confining as attending to your present duties. With this difference, that now you get a pleasant walk of a few miles every Sunday, which you would not get by staying at home. How do we rest from our work and weariness? In two ways. First, by sleeping, this we enjoy at night. Second, by laying aside bodily labor, and occupying the mind and heart in spiritual things. During the week your mind is fixed on your sewing. On Sunday you forget every worry of that kind. The mind gets rest when it is turned into a new channel. Sunday rest does not consist in sleep, nor in doing nothing. That, in the end, might be more tiresome, and more damaging to health than sewing. "Is it wrong to do good on the Sabbath day?" It might be as well to have only one Sunday School session, a day. But while there are two, and two church services, it will be better for your body and soul to attend all, than only some or none. After all, there are not many people, who shorten their lives by doing good; and least of all by being faithful to their Church and Sunday School. If people could not rest by going to church, this kind of religious service would be a transgresstion of the fourth commandment. Then it would be wrong to have churches of any kind at all, and wrong for people to meet for prayer and praise. Worship is the highest kind of rest. And nothing is more quickening to body and spirit, than to spend a few hours among a group of children, to ask and hear their simple questions, and catch the sweet spirit of their cheerful songs.

LOAFING.

The word "loafing" is derived from the German word "laufen," to run. A loafer is one who roams and lounges lazily about on other people's premises. He often makes his living by sponging. If he is a drunkard, he is always on the alert for "a treat," eagerly wishing to be called up to take a drink. He has a fine time during political campaigns, when politicians are canvassing their districts; stopping at every grog shop, and calling all within hearing distance up to the bar. He imbibes the gossip and floating scandal of the com

munity as eagerly as rum. Is always ready to give the unprinted news of the town. No body has any idea how he lives. He does no work; earns nothing. Has house rent, flour and meat bills to pay. Who clothes his family and pays his bills, if ever they are paid, is a mystery. He is not always the worst-looking man in his neighborhood. Often wears decent clothing. He is by no means one of your bloated vagrants, with a dirty bundle under his arm; staggering from one groggery to the other during day-time, and in the evening seeking supper and lodging in a neighboring farm-house. Our town loafer prides himself on his smooth hands, clear head and glib tongue. He keeps good company-that is to say, manages to talk with people of influence, and sells his vote for the grog of half a dozen rival candidates. He never goes to church, yet can give the history of every pastor in the place. He has little love for piety or pious people, yet has as keen a scent for their inconsistencies as he has for whisky. He is of no earthly or heavenly use to anybody. A burden to his wife and children. Instead of supporting them, his wife must sew and wash for other people, to feed and clothe his worthless body. He is a bore and burden to all around him; indeed a burden to himself. Living, none respects or loves him, and dying, none grieves over his going.

HOME ATTRACTIONS.

GERTRUDE, a worthy matron, is burdened with a trial which only Christian mothers can feel. We will let her speak: "I have a family of children." Some of them are just reaching the age of man and womanhood. I and my husband try to give them a Christian training. We find this no easy task. The older ones are impatient to get out of the house at night, on to the street, and to places of amusement, whose influence I dread very much. I try to amuse them at home, but do not always succeed. My husband is engaged in business. He rarely spends an evening with me and the children. He belongs to four different lodges, which keeps him from home more than half his evenings. Should he get sick, the Lodge-men would visit him, and pay him more than he can earn when he is well. But it is so hard to raise one's children right, when the husband is so much from home. Our two oldest children have been confirmed. I would like them so much to attend the weekly meetings in the church, but they say father does not attend them either. The meetings happen on Lodge night, which he says he cannot miss. How shall I make home attractive to our children, so that they would rather be there than elsewhere?"

Your husband belongs to too many Lodges. If he attends all their meetings he must be untrue to his church and to his family. If possible both parents ought to attend the weekly services in church. For their own sakes. They need them for growth in grace For the sake of the congregation. This needs their presence and influence. For the sake of their children. These need the force of parental example. If the father puts the Lodge above the Church of Christ, he need not wonder if his children will in some form do the

same.

The greatest attraction in a house are affectionate kind parents. But their place to attract is at home. Not one only, but both are needed. Next to them, good papers and books-reading matter suited to interest and instruct the children are needed. If any of the children have a talent for instrumental music, get them instruments-a piano, guitar, violin, harp, flute, or whatever it may be. Allow them to take lessons in music-as far as possible to make themselves masters of it. This will create attractions at home which they can find nowhere else. But the parents must show an interest in their entertainments. The father must stay at home. The parents must strive to lead a Christian life-to make their's a Christian home, where the Scriptures are read, and "prayer is wont to be made." A man who loves the company of strangers more than that of his own household, is not fit to be the husband of a Christian wife, nor the father of a family. "He hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel."