their cold days, but only now and then, and they do not deem it worth their while to provide against them:  the science of calefaction is reserved for the north.  And so, Protestants, depending on human means solely, are led to make the most of them; their sole resource is to use what they have; they are the anxious cultivators of a rugged soil.  Catholics, on the contrary, feel that God will protect the Church, and, as Newman adds, “we sometimes forget that we shall please Him best, and get most from Him, when, according to the fable, we put our shoulder to the wheel, when we use what we have by nature to the utmost, at the same time that we look out for what is beyond nature in the confidence of faith and hope.”  Lately a witty French writer pictures to us the pious friends of the leading Catholic layman of France, De Mun, kneeling in spiritual retreat when their presence is required in front of the enemy.  The Catholic of the nineteenth century all over the world is too quiet, too easily resigned to “the will of God,” attributing to God the effects of his own timidity and indolence.  Father Hecker rolled up his sleeves and “pitched in” with desperate resolve.  He fought as for very life.  Meet him anywhere or at any time, he was at work or he was planning to work.  He was ever looking around to see what might be done.  He did with a rush the hard labor of a missionary and of a pastor, and he went beyond it into untrodden pathways.  He hated routine.  He minded not what others had been doing, seeking only what he himself might do.  His efforts for the diffusion of Catholic literature, the catholic world, his several books, the Catholic tracts, tell his zeal and energy.  A Catholic daily paper was a favorite design to which he gave no small measure of time and labor.  He anticipated by many years the battlings of our temperance apostles.  The Paulist pulpit opened death-dealing batteries upon the saloon when the saloon-keeper was the hero in state and church.  The Catholic University of America found in him one of its warmest advocates.  His zeal was as broad as St. Paul’s, and whoever did good was his friend and received his support.  The walls of his parish, or his order, did not circumscribe for him God’s Church.  His choice of a patron saint—­St. Paul—­reveals the fire burning within his soul.  He would not, he could not be idle.  On his sick-bed, where he lay the greater part of his latter years, he was not inactive.  He wrote valuable articles and books, and when unable to write, he dictated.

He was enthusiastic in his work, as all are who put their whole soul into what they are doing.  Such people have no time to count the dark linings of the silvery clouds; they realize that God and man together do not fail.  Enthusiasm begets enthusiasm.  It fits a man to be a leader; it secures a following.  A bishop who was present at the Second Plenary Council of Baltimore has told me that when Father Hecker appeared before the assembled prelates and theologians in advocacy