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we are preserved in peace, although one of the German missionaries now here had a hairbreadth escape from being crushed under a partition wall which unexpectedly fell as he left it. Our house is not so high as some others, and the roof was last year made double; and this accounts in some measure for our suffering so little compared with others; yet still the mercy of God in preserving us amid surrounding ruin has been very conspicuous. At Swatow (proper) a large part of the new houses have fallen or been unroofed : our house, which is in the old part of the town, remains uninjured with loss only of a mat-covering to protect from the sun. The destruction of Chinese ships and boats you may imagine is almost complete-even foreign vessels being unable to withstand the fury of the hurricane. On the morning of the 21st I came down here from Swatow, intending to go to Tat-Han-Po, and thus was in company with the German brother during the storm. On Sabbath morning I preached to a few of our countrymen in the dilapidated Hong of Quit and Co. (text Luke xiii. 1-9), and in the afternoon accompanied the German brethren to a stranded German vessel, where one of them preached to the seamen.

This visitation I regard as a divine judgment on this place for its iniquities; and let us pray and hope that it may

be followed by as signal a display of God's mercy in saving souls. I should have added above, that very many lives —some hundreds at least-have been lost by this visitation. At this island alone, in boats and on land, about a hundred persons have perished, without reckoning the crew of the opium clipper sunk in the harbour.

“ Yours in haste,

“WM, C. BURNS. "P.S. The partition wall in this house fell in conse quence of soine beams from the roof of a house behind us having struck against and broken to pieces the shutters of a window. The wind and rain thus beat in with full fury, and in a moment threw down the solid wall, crushing to atoms tables, chairs, &c. Two minutes before both the


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German missionaries were standing beside this wall; having gone in to get some articles of clothing, they had just come out, and one of them was shutting the door when the crash came, and the half of the door he was closing was crushed to pieces against the wall! Shortly before this time, in the middle part of the house, where we felt safest, we had been uniting in prayer to our God and Father in Christ. Praise His name.'



EARLY one winter morning, the snow was falling fast on the streets of Edinburgh. The wind blew loud and cold, driving down the drift into the kitchen areas, and through the crevices of broken doors and shattered windows. The mechanic, with buttoned jacket and whiffing pipe, hastened with nimble feet to the workshop; and an old woman in the attic story was fastening her only shawl across the broken pane, from which the wind had torn a piece of newspaper she pasted on the day before. A haggard-looking mother was shivering in the streets, picking out of the snow the cinders and chips of coal, with which she intended to prepare her baby's breakfast ; for she had spent her last sixpence the previous evening, in the blazing tap-room of the low whiskeyshop. The streets, from side to side, were covered with ice, from the snow which the sun had melted on the previous day; and gentleme muffled up in their dreadnoughts, were shortening their steps, and keeping even balance, lest they should measure their lengths on the frozen pavement. Many of the boys hastening up the brae to the High School, had been obliged to bolt a hasty breakfast, almost scalding their tongues with the hot pore,



ridge ; for they said so often “ plenty of time yet'' when snuggling in the warm sheets, that they had scarcely their faces washed when the bell was ringing. And what was worse, having left no time to revise the morning lessons, their hearts were beating frightfully, expecting a practical explanation of the first declension by finding themselves at the bottom of the class.

But the bed of the Ragged-scholar was less inviting ; he was in no danger of holding a morning's parley with the cozy sheets. Right glad was he when the old blanket staid at home, in which he wrapped himself on his straw bed, and, when awaking in the morning, he found the shoes. he had given him lying where he had left them, as they, too, were in danger of finding their way to “ Uncle's"*especially when father and mother were on the spree.', The wind awoke him that morning long before daylight, as it whistled and bellowed along the dingy wynd. He could not fall asleep again, for his feet were icy cold, his limbs stiff, and, crouch together as he might, he could not get them warmed. He began to feel how true it is, that “sleep on her downy pinions flies from woe, and lights on lids unsullied with a tear.” What was he to do? He could not light a fire, for there were neither coals nor cinders in the room; and his father and mother had taken their clothes and spread them on their own bed, so it was in vain to look about for something more to cover him. As he lay and listened to the wintry winds, whirling and rattling amongst the shattered slates, and making the old doors and windows creak as if determined to pull them down, his heart beat with hopeful gladness when he heard the hollow tones of the Tron Church clock

* Uncle's” in ragged phrase means pawn-shop.

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chiming away the weary hours. But another chill came over him when the old bell stopped short at four. “What! is it only four o'clock yet? Oh! I wish it was eight! Another five hours till school time !" But the lazy clock would not speak again until another sixty minutes passed. He lay, sometimes talking to the angry winds, but oftener listening for another chime; until at last he got angry at the "dull kettle,” as he thought it wished to deceive him, from a desire to prolong his misery.

Hour after hour passed away-eight o'clock came at last, and found John standing at the end of the wynd, waiting for his schoolfellows. On getting up, he found that sure enough his shoes had gone to “Uncle's," and how to get along the icy pavement on his bare feet he scarcely knew; but at last he thought that the comfort. able school-room, and plate of warm porridge and milk, would compensate for all, and soon make him forget the morning's misery. After a little, a number of his mates were standing around him, wondering why he was so soon astir; but when they saw his poor naked feet and ankles, shivering in the snow, their hearts mere melted to pity. They could not bear to see him limping along with knitted brows, and hear his sighs when his feet were pierced by the broken ice. But what could they do; no one had got a pair of shoes to lend him—and even if they had, the old clock was going faster now, and there was no time to return. “Let us carry him," said a noble little fellow. “Yes,” cried another, “shoulder high;" and in a minute John is placed upon their shoulders and borne triumphantly through the snow,

amid the shouts and cheers of his ragged, but kind-hearted school-fellows! People stopped in the streets to look at the little com




pany, and prayed that the God of the needy might less them, as their young hearts leaped with gladness, happy in this deed of mercy. The best friend they ever had met them by the way–his large heart was filled with joy, and he thanked God anew that ever he was able to write

“ Plea” on behalf of these poor boys, and collect subscriptions for establishing the Ragged School.

Dear young readers! strive to learn four lessons from the noble conduct of these ragged boys :

I. They pitied a poor unfortunate boy who was worse off than themselves.

II. They did all they could to help him.
III. They did it at once.
IV. They did it cheerfully, with all their hearts. Go


THE CHILDREN'S ANGELS. The sun shone brightly into a pleasant room, where a little brother and sister were merrily playing. Happy voices rang through the apartment; and musical laughter reached the ears of the mother, who sat writing in another room. As she listened and laid down her pen, a smile of joy came stealing over her face.

In the room with the little ones, just where the sunbeams were dancing, was another form which their eyes beheld not. White and fair, and silver-winged, beaming on the bounding figures with blessed smiles, stood the Angel of Love. Surely the mother knew who was with them ; for she bent over her paper again with calm, trusting face.

But soon the merry laughter ceased ; and the smiling faces were clouded. A trifling dispute had stopped the happy play; and with flashing eyes the little ones looked silently at each other.

Now the fair angel gazed with eyes of pity; and, as the angry words broke the stillness, the rustling of her wings

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