"But, my dear Mabel, a man may fail in business without being extravagant. Mr. Westerton has had, I understand, some heavy and unexpected losses lately; and I know he lent a very large sum of money to his uncle, which he never got back again."

“Ah, I was sure you would find some extenuating plea. You must, however, admit that Mrs. Westerton and the girls dressed rather above their station."

"Well, perhaps they did, but if they wore expensive things, they made them last a very long time; so that they probably did not spend more than others. And one or two of the daughters are very clever with their needles, and they used to help a good deal with the dress-making, which was a saving.

"The eldest_boy, Harry, will have to turn over a new leaf now, I expect," continued Mabel; "he has run wild for some time, doing nothing, unless it has been mischief. I am afraid he will never come to much good."

"He is very young; we must trust he will improve, Mabel. He has many faults, but he has many good qualities. He is wilful and giddy, but he is very affectionate, and easily led by kindness; and this sudden reverse may steady him, and induce him to exert himself."

"I had a call from Mr. Arden, this morning," remarks Mabel. "He wanted a subscription for his Ragged School, and he had so much to say about it, that I was glad to give him a trifle in order to get rid of him. He is so hot about his plans always, that I quite dread to hear of any fresh ones. Ragged Schools being in the ascendant with him just now, he appears as if he could not talk of anything else; and to listen to him, you would imagine that they are destined speedily to evangelize the nation, and to convert the world."

"Yes; he wants a little more moderation occasionally; but he is one of our best collectors. He can get money where others cannot. A converted heathen,

when accused once by a white man, of being too enthusiastic, replied, 'It is better to boil over, than not boil at all;' and I suppose Mr. Arden would say the same."

"What a proud girl Miss Taylor is," says Mabel, as she stitches with increased energy; "she never speaks to me if she can possibly avoid doing so; and when I have asked her to tea, she has invariably declined to come; just because her father was a baronet, and she has a little more money than some people! It is so absurd!

"She is not very sociable, it is true, Mabel; but I think it proceeds from reserve rather than pride. I have noticed that she often colours and hesitates when obliged to converse with any one; and I should fancy that she is shy and timid."

"Have you been to visit Aunt Martha, lately ?" inquires Mabel. "Not that there is much pleasure to be derived from her company, for she is so cross and so easily offended, that it is difficult to get on smoothly

with her."

"Her natural temper is certainly not a happy one, but she was never taught when young to control it, and this makes it more difficult for her to do so now. She ought not to give way to her feelings as she frequently does; but, poor thing, she has a great deal to try her, and to irritate her temper."

"That does not give her, as a professed Christian, any excuse for yielding to anger and impatience," said Mabel, decisively.

"No, Mabel, but it gives us an additional motive for bearing and forbearing with her. If we keep in mind the trials and temptations which she has to contend with, we shall not harshly condemn her, but we shall pity her, and pray for her."

"It does not signify, then, how bad our tempers are," says Mabel, in a pettish tone; "it is not ourselves, but our circumstances which are to blame."

'No, no, Mabel, we are not to judge others; but, we are to judge ourselves. Let us take the beam out of our own eye, before we try to take the mote out of our brother's. I would not think nor speak lightly of another's fault; but I would not forget that, charity covers a multitude of sins.' I often check censorious and self-complacent feelings, by the recollection of a remark of John Bradford's, who, when he saw a criminal led past his house to prison, said, 'There goes John Bradford, but for the grace of God!""

Now, dear reader, I have finished my sketches, and laid aside my pencil. Will you tell me which portrait you prefer? and which you are inclined to take for your model? It is grievous to think how many Christians (?) resemble the first. I hope you will endeavour to copy the last. And then, even in these days of religious gossip and scandal, your likeness may be portrayed in these ancient but expressive words, "When charity and good nature open not her mouth, the finger of silence resteth upon her lips."

Dear reader, as you rise from the perusal of this paper, don't try to evade the force of any "word in season" which it has brought to you, by saying, “Yes; the remarks are very good, but

ALICE H

NON SINE LUMINE!

[Motto inscribed on the north face of a sundial pedestal.]

Non sine Lumine!

E'en on that side of thee

Where no sun cheerily
Reacheth his glance,

Save in full summer-time,
Just at the eve and prime,

When a stray beam sometime

Smileth askance.

There drive the sleet and snow
When winter whirlwinds blow,
Or spring's pulse beateth low
In the dark night;

Yet, 'midst the whirling gale
Should the clouds rend and fail,
Looks forth the north star pale,
"Not without light!"

Non sine Lumine

So will the true heart be!
However northerly

Life's face be set:

Just as the day declines,

Hope round the corner shines, Faith's pole star breaks the lines Of wild regret.

Non sine Lumine

Earth's darkest misery,

Oh, gentle Charity,

Yet might be found;

Be it thy care to see
That this inscription be

Through loving smiles from thee

On all around.

Saviour, I look to Thee!

Non sine Lumine

Will all my voyage be

If Thou wilt steer;
In my most Arctic nights
Let the Aurora lights

O'er the cold iceberg heights

Northwards appear

Guide me o'er life's dark sea;

Then from its treachery,

Through death's great mystery,

Where reigneth night.

Non sine Lumine

Let my last passage be,

Into eternity,

Where reigneth light!

ELLICE.

THE EARLY LIFE OF DR. JUDSON.

ADONIRAM JUDSON was born in Malden, Massachusetts, where his father was pastor of the Baptist Church, on the 9th of August, 1788.

At an early age he gave promise of unusual ability. His intellect was acute, his power of acquisition great, and his perseverance unflagging. To these elements

of character, he added a love of pre-eminence, and great self-reliance. His natural temper was amiable;

and his sister retains a vivid recollection of his affectionate tenderness towards her, and of his great kindness to inferior animals.

He was taught to read by his mother, when only three years old. His father had gone from home on a short journey, and she, wishing to surprise her husband, took that opportunity of teaching the child to read. He learned so rapidly, that he was able to give his father a chapter of the Bible on his return. About a twelvemonth afterwards, he used to collect the children of the neighbourhood around him, and mounting a chair, go through the exercises of the pulpit with singular earnestness, and greatly to the admiration of his auditors.

Before reaching his tenth year, he had gained quite a reputation for good scholarship, especially in arithmetic. In the grammar school he was noted for his proficiency in the Greek language, His schoolfellows nicknamed him "Virgil," or, in allusion to the pecu