so, and superintended the flames until they were consumed to ashes.

The wife of the author had the happiness, afterwards, of procuring the freedom of this poor. woman and her family.

Ir is certainly our duty to relieve the poor and wretched, whether they be our own countrymen or strangers. Some caution however is necessary in order that our kindness may not be abused by impostors. But I feel as if I never could refuse a poor African. They have been so injured-robbed and spoiled by wicked white

men, that I always feel as if we had a great debt to pay them. I hope young people will treat them kindly. Ask them too, a few questions. You may hear something worth hearing, and remembering too.

If you find that they can read, give them some book or tract which will tell of Him who came to break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free. The Negro Boy may take this good news home with him to his native land, and tell it to hundreds.

THE INDIAN AND THE PLANTER.

AN Indian, far from home, and hungry and thirsty, called at the house of a white planter and asked for rest and water. The white ma: only replied "Get you gone, you Indian dog, you shall have nothing here." A long time after, the white man was lost in the woods, and came to an Indian wigwam. The Indian gave him food and repose, and in the morning conducted him within sight of the settlement. As he was about to depart, he asked the white man if he knew him? The white man began to offer excuses, but the Indian interrupted him, saying, “When you see a poor Indian fainting for a cup of water, dont say again, 'get you gone, you Indian dog!'"

FROM MRS. ELLIS'S "DRAWING-ROOM SCRAP BOOK."

AH! who has not felt, when the world has seemed cold,
Or the heart has been weary with waiting for gold,
That childhood has come in its freshness and bloom,
Like morn after midnight, to scatter its gloom?

Sweet innocent childhood! thy charm is the same,
Whatever thy lineage, thy land, or thy name;
Thy gladness brings wealth to the cottager's door,
And without thee the hall of the palace is poor.
O beautiful childhood! what promise is thine!
What sunbeams surround thee! what garlands entwine!
No blight in thy blossom, no cloud in thy sky,
But joy in thy laughter, and hope in thine eye.

Thou hast in thy treasury silver and gold,
Ten thousand times richer than ever was told;
With power like a talisman-mightier still,
Transforming to goodness whatever it will.

Then keep the bright gifts to thy infancy given;
Thou know'st not how dear is thy welfare to Heaven;
Thou know'st not what rapture thy smiles can impart,
When they fall like fresh dew on a sorrowful heart.

The prince and the peasant one portion must share,
One lot, held in common-a birthright of care;
And feelings of sadness perchance steal between,
To shade for a moment the couch of a Queen.

But, as thou, happy childhood! thy sweetness canst throw

Round the path of the poor-in the cottage of woe; So, brighter and sweeter thy influence should be, Beloved by a nation whose hope dwells with thee.

THE ANNIVERSARY OF FREEDOM, 1844.
For the use of the Schools in Jamaica.

For many generations, the poor negroes on this beautiful island suffered all the cruelties and horrors of slavery. Through the efforts of Christian Missionaries, they were emancipated and made free, Angust 1, 1838. Every year the 1st of August is celebrated in Jamaica, not with riot and feasting, but in thanksgiving and praise to God.

CHILDREN of Freedom sing!
Loud let your anthems ring!
On this glad day;

Sing for the thraldom's fled,
'Neath which your parents bled;
And now the tyrant dread

Reigns far away!

Raise, raise your voices high!
Let your songs reach the sky!
For you are free!

Millions are slaves to day;
Millions now pine away;

But HERE there shines the ray
Of Liberty!

Come then, and praise the Lord! 'Twas his Almighty word

Sever'd the chain:

He, on his lofty throne,

Heard the loud captives' groan

Made the case all his own

Triumph did gain!

Blessed then be the Lord,
We will his grace record,
This happy day.

Soon, soon may every slave
His righteous freedom have,
And know the Lord, who gave
Justice its sway.

Roll, freedom, round the world!
Down be the tyrants hurl'd,
From their proud height.

Plead, Lord, for the opprest;
Give all the earth its rest;

Thou shalt be ever blest,

Judging the right!

P. H. C.