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Aunt Mary's voice, so sweet and sorrowful. I shall never forget the verse. Let


child who has had a bitter experience of the first part, see how true and how precious is the last: “Whoso putteth his trust in the Lord, shall be safe."

Child's Paper.

CONVERSION OF POOR BLIND COPAUL. Poor little Copaul was born blind. He lived in a kind of pit, which some one had dug for him in the earth, the roof of which was made of branches and twigs of trees, and was almost level with the ground. He shared this miserable place with two companions--his grandmother and his faithful dog. The old woman used to sit at the entrance of the pit with her wheel, spinning cotton; but, alas ! she was an ignorant worshipper of idols. The dog was very useful in leading about his master from one door to another, where he begged bread for himself and his grandmother.

One day the dog led him to a house that stood in the midst of a garden. The poor animal saw then what the boy could not see, a gentleman with a white face sitting under the verandah. He therefore drew his master by the string through the open gate. When he came up to the house the dog stood still, and Copaul, supposing that some one was near, bowed himself till his face nearly touched the ground, though he did not yet know before whom he stood. But it was a servant of God, whom his Divine Master had sent to bring this poor little blind boy to Christ.

The good Missionary had pity on the boy. that he was nearly naked ; for the little covering he had on was merely rags. He therefore said, “Where do you come from, child ? and what do you want here ?" Poor Copaul laid his hand on his breast, and said, “I am hungry, sir.” The Missionary resolved to enquire about him ; and in the meantime put his hand into his pocket, and drew out a piece of money, which he threw to the hungry boy, to prove whether he was blind or not, and

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whether he would pick it up. But the money fell to the ground without the boy's looking at it. The faithful dog, however, who was accustomed to collect the money for the boy, sprang to the spot, pieked it up with his mouth, and put it into his master's hand.

The Missionary was not long before he found out that all the blind boy had told him was true. He then had him clothed and sent to a Christian school, which was held in a house near his garden. Day after day his good dog led him to school, and waited for him till evening, when Copaul returned home. He soon learned many verses of the Bible, and, like most blind people, he never forgot what he leamed.

Soon after, the Missionary had to take a journey, and was away two months. When he returned, the first thing he did was to visit the school ; but on looking round for Copaul, the boy was nowhere to be seen. He was then told that his grandmother had kept him away by force, for the poor woman was a confirmed heathen ; and she was made to believe that the New Testament was a bad book. She would rather, therefore, lose her bread than let her grandson remain in a Christian school.

The Missionary hastened the same evening to the miserable dwelling of Copaul. He crept through the entrance, and found the poor blind boy lying on a wretched bed of bamboos, with a pillow of rags to support his head. His faithful dog lay by his side ; but the moment he saw the friend of his master enter, he sprang up and greeted him in the most joyful manner. “ Copaul, my poor child,” said the Missionary, “why do you lie here ?" At first he received no answer ; but stooping down to feel the boy's pulse, Copaul became aware that some one was near him, though he knew not who it was. At first he thought it was his grandmother, and said with a weak voice, “Oh, mother, mother, let me die! I do not like to stay in this dark place; I will go where there is light. I know the words are true that God sent his Son to die for the sins of the world.” Hereupon the poor boy began to repeat one verse after another which he had learnt at school. One

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text especially pleased him above all others, for it seemed to suit his blind and dark condition. It was, I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth, and in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.” Several times he repeated the words, but at last he could get no further than the first two words, “I know.” He was too weak to go on; and he sank back, quite overcome, on his miserable pillow.

When the poor child gave over speaking, the Missionary went down on his knees at the bed-side, and praised God for this unexpected jewel, that, through His grace, he had gathered from the dust of India to set in the crown of the Redeemer. Four-and-twenty hours afterwards, the weak voice of this converted boy was silent for ever on earth, to commence its singing in heaven. Would you like to hear some of the last words he uttered ? They were these : “I see! -Now I have light !-I see him in his beauty!—Tell the Missionary that the blind sees !- I glory in Christ !I glory!" As he said this, he slept in Jesus, and angels bore his happy spirit to that place where he should behold what no eye has seen, nor ear heard. --Juvenile Missionary Magazine.

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“Our mercies past, when present cares annoy,

Should gild our hopes of future peace and joy." “What makes you think that God will never forsake them that trust in Him?” was asked of an aged Christian. “Because he has promised,” was the reply. " And what makes

you think that He will keep his word ?” “Because He never yet broke it.” Here is encouragement for us all ! Here is enough to cry aloud,“ Though he slay me, yet will I trust in Him !” The past declares God's faithfulness, the present confirms it, and the future will only make known more clearly his fidelity and truth. Do you think of the past and future ?-and is the present made brighter by them?

We judge our earthly friends by what they do, rather than by what they say; and why not judge of our heavenly Friend by the same rule. Ask, then, the question, Christian reader, what has God done for thee? or rather, what has God not done for thee? Has he not made thee? given thee thy faculties of body, soul, and spirit ? placed thee in a beautiful world ? afforded thee the means of grace, and the hope of glory? Yea, given his Son to die for thee upon the cross, prepared thee a mansion of boundless bliss, and put into thy hands His holy word to comfort thee on earth, and guide thee in the way to heaven? Surely the past, present, and future, will hardly suffice thee in setting forth His glory:

“To sing his praise let heart and soul be given,

Sing loud on earth, and louder still in heaven ! The past has already been the present, and soon will be the future. Hours, days, and years, like riches, make to themselves wings and fly away; let them bear on their wings some record of our love, our gratitude, and joy. Let us so ponder on what is, was, and will be, that the past, the present, and the future may give praise to the Redeemer, and promote the peace of our own souls.

THE FOLIAGE OF TREES. Every bough that waves over our head in the summer time contains lessons of wisdom. It is positively true that every leaf is full of instruction. Indeed the foliage of trees is the most wonderful subject of contemplation and delight. Read the history of leaves, and marvel! Each leaf is employed in receiving and transmitting gases from the air, in certain proportions, to the plant. These great operations, having been effected during the summer months, and this agency of the leaves finished, they fall to the ground, not as an useless incumbrance, but to convey a large portion of fresh soil, peculiarly fitted for the nutriment of vegetation. The beautiful foliage which has cooled us with its shade, and glowed with all the splendid

fruitfulness, at length return to the soil in the lonely days of autumn, not to encumber it, but to administer health and vigor to a new series of vegetation, and circulate in combination concealed from every human eye.

REPLY OF A CHILD TO AN INFIDEL. An infidel remarked, within hearing of a little girl of thirteen, that all things came by chance, and that the world, like a mushroom, sprang up in a night. “I should like to know, sir,” she said, “where the seed came from.”

WHEN morning dawns with cheering light,

The parting stroke we feel ;
We miss her at the noontide hour,

And at the evening meal.
We miss her at the shady bower,

Where she was wont to play ;
We miss the little prattling tales

She told us ev'ry day.
We miss her round the cheerful fire,

When our daily work is o'er,
And at the hour of praise and prayer

She joins with us no more.
Our beautiful and lovely child,

In whom we took delight,
No more her well known voice we hear,

To bid us all good night.
Her little bark was very soon

O'er life's wild ocean driven,
The first rough stormy wind that blew
• It wafted her to heaven.


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