ship was sent off, which brought more food, more people, and the order that trade and the mission should be continued, although with less expense than before. This infused new life into Egede, and he could again hope that his toil might bless and benefit later generations.

From that time trade and navigation to Greenland was never quite broken off, nor did the mission lack support and progress. Old Egede stayed there for two years longer, nor did he leave the land or his new-formed parish until his eldest son, Povel Egede, whom a few years before he had sent down to Copenhagen to study, had been called and sent to him as a helper. Only then he asked for his dismissal, and left the work he had commenced in the hands of his son, not because he himself was weary of it, but because he was old and feeble and no longer able to bear the hardships which for so many years had wasted his forces. He travelled down to Copenhagen, and was superannuated with a yearly pension of 500 dollars, for which he had to instruct the new missionaries in the language of Greenland. And this he did faithfully until his eldest son took his place. His second son, Niels Egede, lived for awhile after in Greenland, where he accomplished much that was useful for his country and for commerce.

Egede's wife, too, deserves to be named here with admiration and reverence. She had a strong soul for looking dangers in the face, and a willing soul to share them with her husband. Instead of giving way to the delicate feelings which nature has planted in woman, and which habit fosters, she hardened herself against them. What he resolved she regarded as law, and if he at times began to bend under the burden of his toilsome occupations (and how easily could that happen-man is but man), she never increased the inquietude of his mind by womanish complainings, but incited him to courage and perseverance. He often experienced this, but especially at that time, so sorrowful for him, when he had to choose between leaving Greenland and all his work, or remaining behind almost alone; then she herself encouraged him to decide as he did, and preferred long continuing care to comfort. She sacrificed her strength and her life in Greenland, and died there in the same year that Egede had resolved to leave the land.

DORCAS.

"This woman was full of good works, and almsdeeds which she did."-Acts ix., 36.

THE character of woman, as developed in the sacred writings, is on the whole exceedingly fair and honourable. Undoubtedly she was "first in the transgression," and is "by nature the child of wrath," even as man. But there is an instinctive delicacy, a natural love of purity, and a peculiar susceptibility of tender and compassionate emotion in her breast, that is much akin to piety and true religion.

She is the natural friend of what is virtuous and good. In the Bible narrative scarce any woman of note is found opposing the cause of God, either in the earlier or later records. Jezebel in the Old, and Herodias in the New, are names that almost stand alone in this respect; while the number of those who have in every age afforded succour to religion is very great. In the Old Testament some women rose to the height of heroic greatness, after the stern fashion of their times, as Deborah the prophetess, and Jael the wife of Heber the Kenite; while in the milder era of the Christian faith the names of the Maries and Martha, Salome and Susanna, Priscilla and Lydia, Lois and Eunice, Tryphena and Tryphosa, and "the beloved Persis," stand out upon the sacred page, irradiated with the light of honourable mention as "fellow-helpers of the Apostles and succourers of many."

The sentence at the head of this paper, and its context, introduce us to one who has indeed become highly honoured among her sex; inasmuch as her Greek name of "Dorcas" has grown to be throughout all Christendom the synonym for a very valuable form of Christian beneficence. A poet says of the illustrious dead, referring especially to the great thinkers of the past—

"They rule our spirits from their sceptred urns."

Dorcas was probably not a great thinker; her greatness took a practical form, and was simply Christian charity working after the fashion of true womanhood. Yet she may now be said to rule the spirits of her Christian sisters everywhere as the patroness of institutions for the clothing of the needy poor. It is a great honour that has been accorded to her memory; a far greater, on any just estimate of things, than one is able to accord the Alexanders, and Cæsars, and Napoleons, whose "footprints on the sands of time" are filled with human blood. The Saviour's words, spoken of another woman, are true also of this; that which she once did is now "told for a memorial of her" in all the world. If the study of what is here recorded about this noble woman should stir us up to emulate her spirit, an important end will be accomplished. "To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction," especially if we go not empty-handed on our visit, is one great part, St. James informs us, of "pure religion and undefiled."

Leaving out of view, as not pertaining to our present purpose, the account here given of the lamented death and miraculous restoration of this beneficent Christian saint, let us briefly meditate upon her beautiful life; for that will yield us the richest store of profit.

The names here given to this exemplary woman-Tabitha in the Hebrew and Dorcas in the Greek-are said to mean "gazelle" or "antelope"; a beautiful creature, one of the most graceful things that God has made. Perhaps Dorcas was beautiful in person herself, and so there was a correspondence between her appearance and her name. Nothing is said of this; and, indeed, we may notice that the Scriptures seldom mention this particular in regard to any woman. Not that beauty was rare in Eastern women, but the con

trary. The Scriptures, however, are designed to turn our thoughts to that which is inward and spiritual, not to that which is outward and physical. They tell us, indeed, that "Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain." It is often a fatal gift to those who have it, and a snare to those who behold it; while the having it or not having it should be a matter of very small concern to us, compared with the possession of that inward and Divine beauty which is incorruptible -the beauty of holiness, "the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price." Whether Dorcas was beautiful in person or not, she was beautiful in life; and that is better.

We notice in her

I. The beauty of Christian faith.

II. The beauty of Christian beneficence.

III. The beauty of Christian womanliness.

We are told, in the words at the head of this paper, of her beneficence. But let us begin earlier in the same verse with a word which gives the key to her whole character. She was—

"A disciple," a believer in Jesus. Like Mary of Bethany, Dorcas had chosen the good part, to sit at Jesus' feet. Whether she had ever, like Mary, known her Lord in person we cannot tell. She may have done that, for their lives were contemporary. She may have seen and heard Him in Jerusalem at some feast of the Passover; or have met with Him elsewhere as He journeyed through the land on His errand of truth and mercy. Of this we have no knowledge. We do know, however, that she had received the truth of Christ; for she was "a disciple." Probably hers was the greater blessedness, of those "who have not seen, yet have believed."

It is important that we should not omit to notice this that is said of her that she was "a disciple"; for in this we have the root from whence her life of charity proceeded. Christian faith has ever been the source and sustaining principle of true beneficence, whether in the individual or in the wide community. The great cities of Paganism as mighty and imperial Rome, learned and polished Athens, gay and wealthy Corinth-could show their Coliseums, and Parthenons, and Pantheons, their splendid monuments of taste and architectural achievement, not to be paralleled in many things by England, or America, or the modern Continental nations. But if we wish to see free schools for the education of the poor, hospitals for the gratuitous treatment of disease in all its dire variety, asylums for the care of the incurable, and institutions of a thousand kinds for the relief of human misery; if we wish to study, in short, the architecture not of mere taste and genius, but of humanity and mercywe must visit the great cities of our Christian nations. The finest trophies ever reared by builders of the Greek and Roman period, though wrought in purest marble, are far outdone in real grandeur by certain plain brick buildings we have often seen in London, bearing on their front the legend-" Supported by Voluntary Contributions." We refer to the Brompton Hospitals for Cancer and Consumption. It takes a Christian civilisation to originate and sustain such benevolent and God-like institutions as these, and the

Our

myriads of others like them that are the glory of our land. Christian faith is at the root of them; it is the "faith that worketh by love."

This faith dwelt in the heart of Dorcas. She was a disciple of Him whose errand to our world had been that of infinite mercy; who while on earth had gone about, with busy and untiring feet, among the sick and sorrowing, "doing good;" and who had taught His followers to relieve the hungry, to clothe the naked, and give shelter to the homeless for His own dear sake, saying, "Inasmuch as ye do it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye do it unto me."

Now Christian faith is in itself a beautiful thing, whether seen in man or woman. The soul never moves so gracefully as when she "cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her Beloved." The heart that rests in fulness of trust upon Him who "bears the world and all things up" is in its right place; it is in harmony with the highest truth, the truth of God and of the universe; and its attitude is of the highest moral beauty. The soul so leaning upon Jesus is clothed with humility as with a most fair garment, and adorned with that true wisdom that gives to the head an ornament of grace, and to the neck a golden chain.

But Christian faith wrought out in Dorcas a further beauty which adorned her life, viz. :—

II. The beauty of Christian beneficence.

"This woman," being a disciple, "was full of good works, and almsdeeds which she did." A most pregnant description this! It is something to do a good work now and then; to reckon, for instance, with Philip of Macedon, that we have lost a day, if from sunrise to sunset we have not done some generous deed. How few there are, even among the best, of whom it can be said that they are "full of good works!" Yet this is the testimony borne of Dorcas; her head was full, her hands were full, her time was full, and her means were full of Christian beneficence.

1. Her head was full of beneficent schemes. It is well that we should be thoughtful and systematic in our well-doing. A mere blind impulse of benevolence may lead to wasting of both time and energy to very little purpose; nay, may sometimes lead to evil-doing where well-doing is intended. There is great scope for discretion, and even for invention, in our works of Christian charity. We may deliberate on such a point as this, for instance-how to do our kindly deed or give our little gift in the way most pleasing. A wellmeant action is often spoilt in its effect by the ungainly way of doing it, and it is possible so to bungle over the giving of a gift that the receiver shall feel as you had dropped a red hot copper into his hand. We should devise beforehand how to do these things most graciously, being careful not to embarrass or burden with a painful sense of obligation those in whose behalf we do them. Great prudence should be exercised also in the economy of time and means in well-doing, so that the most shall be made of them of which they severally are capable. In short, system and arrangement are as essential in our works of charity as in our worldly business, and he who is anxious to be counted faithful in the stewardship of life will do well to work

by plan, and not by blind, unregulated impulse. No doubt it was thus Dorcas marshalled her means and opportunities of well-doing. Her head was full of beneficent schemes.

2. Her hands were full of the carrying them out. She not only planned, but "performed the doing of it." She was full of "almsdeeds which she did," not thought of merely. How many fine schemes evaporate into thin air when it comes to the performance ! Between the noble prospectus and the beggarly accomplishment, how vast the difference! When we construct our castles in the air of what we mean to do, we strike out lines of vast extent and grandeur, we cover acres of the atmosphere with "dungeon, tower, and keep"; but when it comes to actual building upon solid ground, we seldom get beyond the style and the dimensions of a cottage. Perhaps even Dorcas fell short in actual life of what had been her own ideal. However, it is plain she was no mere theorist; her hands were "full of good works, and almsdeeds which she did." The weeping widows who gathered round her bier when she was dead showed not the garments which she had intended to make, but which she had "made while she was with them :" not imaginary garments, woven of the airy gossamer of dreams, but good substantial cloaks and tunics, cut out and sewn or deftly woven by loving hands, and fit to keep them warm in winter.

3. Her time was full of these good works. Dorcas was possibly a lady of respectable position, one of those "honourable women not a few" who early joined themselves unto the Apostles. Still, in the primitive age in which this godly woman lived, and in the Christian circle in which she moved, it was not judged necessary, even for a lady of position, to waste her precious time in vain and profitless polite

nesses.

For instance, not having been up to a late hour at a ball or fashionable assembly the night before, Dorcas did not come downstairs in the middle of the forenoon, jaded and weary, and unfit for anything. She had not then to order out her carriage, and spend a portion of the day in making ceremonious calls on Lady This and Lady That, persons for whom in her heart she really cared but little, and who in return cared just as little for her; but who, probably, the instant she had passed out of their presence would begin to entertain themselves with a perfectly free criticism upon her dress, her speech, her manners, her carriage horses, her coachman, and her footman. Visits of that empty nature were then unknown, at least among professing Christians. Nor was it needful for Dorcas, later in the day, to spend much precious time upon the niceties and changes of her dress, her adorning being, "not that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and wearing of gold, or of putting on of (needless and costly varieties of) apparel," but being rather "the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price. For after this manner in the old time the holy women who trusted in God adorned themselves." (1 Peter iii., 3-5.) Being free from these and other time-consuming ceremonies which so banefully infest our modern life, this noble woman was able the more