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I will only add, that I have seldom met a more happy and devoted Christian than young Edward. If his lips may be taken for the index of his thoughts, his mind was continually on heavenly things. His thoughts were not, however, confined to himself, and to his own salvation. He seemed almost equally concerned for the future well being of his fellow sinners. He spoke often, though modestly, of his efforts to bring others to a saving knowledge of the truth; and expressed much satisfaction in having received, from one of our ships, a donation of small books, which he had carefully distributed, or lent, to such as could read, and would receive them, or which he had read, in his imperfect way, and explained to the poor and ignorant. He asked me how he could obtain more of them; and when told that I would send him a supply, if my life was spared, the emotions of a grateful heart almost choked the utterance of his thanks. And I am happy to add, that the liberality of Christian friends in America has enabled me to fulfil this promise far beyond my expectations. We may now think of this dear disciple-if not in heaven-in possession of a good supply of religious tracts and many small and valuable religious volumes, piously and unostentatiously pursuing his good work, almost alone, and in that remote and insulated part of God's dominions, where his holy name is little known and less honoured.

And here we will leave him-another striking illustration that God often chooses the foolish things of this world to confound the wise; and the weak things of this world to confound the mighty; and the base and the despised to bring to nought things that are esteemed honourable among men.

Edward Smith affords an example worthy of imitation. Though poor and unlearned, and, from bodily disease, and the circumstances of his humble condition in this life, cut off from all the buoyant hopes of youth, yet he is rich and happy; and looks forward with the pleasing hope of an unfading crown and an imperishable kingdom.

H. R.


Faith, Hope, and Charity ;—these three,*
Yet is the greatest Charity :
Father of Lights, these gifts impart
To mine—to every human heart.

Faith, that in prayer can never fail,
Hope, that o'er doubting must prevail,
And Charity, whose name above
Is God's own name, for “God is Love."

The morning-star is lost in light,
Faith vanishes at perfect sight;
The rainbow passes with the storm,
And Hope with Sorrow's fading form.

But Charity, serene, sublime,
Beyond the range of death and time,
Like the blue sky's all-bounding space,
Holds heaven and earth in her embrace.

* 1 Cor. xiii. 13.


Faith, Hope, and Charity ;-—these three,
Yet is the greatest Charity ;
Lord Jesus, may these graces shine
In every heart-yet most in mine!

J. M. Sheffield.


“I wish you would be still, Blanche, and not fidget about so much. Don't you see that you have made me break my bubble five or six times ?”

So Oliver said to his little sister, who was holding an earthen saucer of soap-and-water, while he was blowing bubbles from a clay-pipe. “Keep still, Blanche, and do not laugh so much. Every time you laugh, you shake me so that the bubble breaks; and I do not want to stop till I blow one as big as my head.” Just at that moment the little girl laughed again, and the bubble burst. Oliver threw down the pipe in anger, and overturned the stone-pitcher.

“ Never mind, brother,” said Blanche, with a sweet smile, “it is only a bubble.

• But I do mind I will mind! See how you have broken the pipe and the pitcher, too! And you have done all you could to wet me.

“Oh, no, brother," said Blanche, patting her brother's cheek, which was red with anger; “it is only a bubble after all. I have not done any thing


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