Rector and the Curate much trouble, and then he was as sincerely rejoiced to be employed in doing good, it was so evident that he was not actuated by the desire of pleasing men, his little history set him so entirely free from the suspicion of making religion a ladder whereby to climb to worldly prosperity, that entire confidence could be reposed in him, even by those who from having met with abundance of mere profession eleswhere were cautious of yielding to it. Walters was not a man of profession, indeed he never professed anything, Esther could speak better, but both of them spoke more by actions than by words. Walters now seemed to have lost the prospect of being a bookseller, he seemed to be drawn into new line of life, he was deeply thankful to the Father of Mercies, and knowing that He would do what he would with His own, he desired to be just what he was made to be. However, not more than two weeks had passed over when the Rector came to him one morning, and told him he really wished he was in a more convenient situation, that he often wished to see him when he did not like to send for him, and make him leave his business, and yet it was very inconvenient to him or Mr. Mellersh to come so far, besides he knew that when he recommended tracts and books to his parishioners, and told them where to get them, he should find it difficult to desire ladies and gentlemen to go to that out-of-the-way place; he, therefore, strongly advised him to remove to a better situation. Walters' face brightened once more at the idea of rising after all in his trade, of commencing as it were anew, under such favourable auspices. But the flush of hope quickly faded, for he knew he had not the means of doing what was pointed out. His good Rector saw the rising flush, and its quick subsiding; he was not one merely to point out what would be advantageous, he was ready to aid as well as to counsel. He saw how matters stood, and knowing that Walters would have every probability of success if the fault was not his own, and from what he saw and heard he thought that not likely to be the case; he considered that prudence and caution did not prevent him from proposing to advance him his year's salary to enable him to begin. He, therefore, asked him if he thought he could without involving himself venture on a removal under these circumstances. Walters had too often and too deeply considered the subject not to be able at once to reply, that in dependance on the blessing of God, he was willing to do so, if his wife agreed with his own opinion, He gratefully promised to call on his kind patron the next day; and Esther and he committed the matter that evening in prayer and supplication with thanksgiving to the God, who had in His own time and way heard and answered their former requests. In short all was finally settled, the Rector thought as there was no other bookseller in his line in the town the opening was most desirable, and they themselves were o opinion that that Providence which they wished to consult, now marked out the way, A nice shop with a very convenient house was taken in the High Street, and under the superintendance of the Rector, and still more aided by the good taste of Mr. Mellersh, it was nicely stocked, with as good a selection of books, &c., as most country booksellers display. This indeed was entirely to be attributed to the aid of the two clergymen, for Walters as yet, notwithstanding his bookselling ambition knew little of books. The subject, however, on which he was left to suffer most perplexity was to form something suitable for a sign. Esther most strenuously protested against his calling it again, a "Bookselling and Stationary Establishment," and indeed he felt so little wish to revive his former events that he yielded; he consulted, however, with the new schoolmaster, whom the Rector had brought from a fashionable town, and who devised the inscription" Theological, Biographical, and Literary Library." Walters consulted his wife, "I dont know, William," she said after gazing some moments at the words, "it sounds very grand, I hardly think you are come to that yet. But after what we have seen, who can say—will you ask Mr. Mellersh?" Walters did so, Mr. Mellersh laughed, called it "Honson's nonsense,'' and advised him to put over his door, and every where else where it was necessary, "William Walters' bookseller." This was exactly to Esther's taste, and from that time she had a still higher opinion of the Curate than before. The first evening that closed in their new abode, Walters read the thirty fourth Psalm. It was applicable, they had endeavoured to "bless the Lord at all times," in sorrow, trial, poverty, reproach, "His praise had been in their mouths," even before those that blasphemed his Holy name. They came to the verse they had once quoted for support and encouragement. "The young lions shall lack and suffer hunger, but they who seek the Lord shall not want any good thing;" they looked in each others' eyes, they clasped each others' hand, the tears that could not be restrained alone spoke their feelings, their little child at that moment crept over and threw itself on its Father's knees, they raised and kissed it, and Esther's streaming eyes beamed joyfully as holding it up, she said, "The righteous shall never be seen forsaken, nor his seed begging their bread." Much remains to be told, but must be left to another occasion, when I may resume Esther's history, and now I must here take my leave of the Bookseller of Allerton, merely observing for the satisfaction of my readers, that appearances did not deceive them nor their good friends, but that by industry, attention and prudence, under that blessing of the Lord which alone maketh rich, they found at the end of the year that their temporal hopes were abundantly verified, and the practical piety which marked their days of disappointment and distress, was not laid aside in those of prosperity. THE MERCHANTS' CLERK. PART VIII. ANGUS MURRAY, notwithstauding his strict notions, had some very agreeable qualities. He was openhearted and sweet tempered, and always ready to do a kindness. We were thrown much together, and I was beginning unconsciously to feel the influence of his principles and example, when I made the other acquaintance of whom I spoke. Some of my fellow clerks, and several other young men, clerks in other counting houses were accustomed to meet together in boating parties on the river. During the long summer evenings we found the coolness of the fresh winds which played over the broad current of the Thames delightful, and the manly and bracing exercise of rowing was pleasant change after the enervating confinement of narrow streets and heated offices. Angus often made one of our parties, and he was perhaps the best and most elegant rower among us. His active habits from his earliest youth among the mountains and lochs of his native highlands, had given unusual strength to his slight frame, and a well poised share of muscular vigour to all his limbs. He enjoyed the recreation as much as any of us, and was so unpretending and obliging that he soon became a general favourite. Occasionally we were able by turns to have a whole day to ourselves, and we then made a party to Kew or to Richmond, or some other place on the banks of the Thames. On these occasions, however, Angus was never present but once. Upon that excursion Chillingworth and another youth named Hanson got intoxicated, in a tavern at Richmond, and behaved in a very disgraceful way, not only in the boat, but on shore. It was on that day that a young man who had been absent for some months, rejoined the party. Neither Angus nor I had ever seen him, though his name had been repeated often enough in our ears, and some of our companions had been constantly expressing their wish that Desmond Smith would come among us again. I thought then, and I think still, that I never saw any one so handsome as that young man." He had been ill, and was then only just regaining his strength, and was therefore very pale and thin; but his features and his figure were like those of some exquisite statue; and there was a noble and manly grace about his every gesture which it was impossible not to admire. The expression of his smile, when he did smile, had a kind of fascination about it; and his voice though deep and manly, had a sweetness in its mellowed tones, which made it fall like music on the ear. We had rowed up from Queenhithe stairs, but he came on board our boat at Whitehall. We were almost tired of waiting for him, and were just returning to the boat, (I should have said that most of the party were lounging about on the shore when Desmond Smith made his appearance; he came on horseback cantering slowly, and his servant, a slight stripling of a boy, running by his side. As soon as he entered the boat he threw off his coat and insisted on taking an oar, but we soon saw that the exertion was too great for him. At first the colour came so brightly into his pale cheeks that it looked like the glow of health, but after a little time he became more pallid than before. My dear fellows, he said at last, I am afraid I must ask one of you to take I find that it is too much for me to-day. As he said my oar. this he laughed, but in another minuite he fell back in a fainting fit. He soon recovered, and though he seemned ill and exhausted, he would not hear of our turning back on his account, he wrapped himself in his large roquelaure, and leaning back on the cushions which which we placed behind him, the fresh air and the rest soon revived him. We dined, I remember, in our boat on the Twickenham side of Richmond Bridge, and Desmond Smith and some of the party sauntered about in Twickenham meadows, or threw themselves down upon the soft dry grass, while Murray and I started off to see the view from the top of Richmond Hill. a As we came back we met Chillingworth and Hanson at the door of a low tavern, and in a loud and angry dispute with the keeper of the house. They had accused him of trying to cheat them, and one of them had struck him, and he was sending off a pot-boy for a constable just as we came up. I was astonished at the calm and simple manner in which Angus interposed, and succeeded in restoring something like order, and a good understanding between the parties. With gentle authority he quieted our two drunken companions, and called back the pot boy, and then taking the landlord aside, in a few words, full of good sense and feeling, and spoken with great kindness, he appealed to his head and his heart, giving him at the same time a mild rebuke for allowing the young men to drink as they had done. He offered his own money instead of the money which they would not pay, and he made the apology which they would not make, for the blow which they had given, and he even prevailed with the man to assist us in getting them down to the boat. We had a good deal of trouble with Chillingworth on our way back, and he so nearly overset the boat more than once, that at last we all agreed to tie him hand and foot till we got to town. He then poured forth his abuse of us in no measured terms, and every now and then shouted out murder, till he tired himself out and went to sleep. We had but little trouble with Hanson, for he was stupified and heavy with selep from the time he took his seat in the boat. "I have quite done with those water parties," said Angus Murray, to me, in reply to a question which I put to him, a few days after that excursion to Richmond; "I shall be glad to go out with you or with Stanley on the river, but not with the others." "O, I will allow," I said, "that Hanson and Chillingworth made their society as unpleasant as it was disgraceful; but don't you like Desmond Smith, Angus?” ~He made no reply, and I thought at first he had not heard me, for he began to talk on another subject. I repeated my question, and then he said at once, "I do not like Desmond Smith; first impressions may be wrong, but you know we have seen him since. I hope my judgment may not be a correct one, but I fear that such an associate would be as dangerous as he is agreeable. I have little to judge by but trying his words, and the spirit of what he said and did by the plain rule of right and wrong, I found enough to make me dread any further intercourse with him. The danger of such companions as Hanson and Chillingworth, is that habitual intercourse with men of intemperance and profligate lives may by degrees wear away the aversion which we must at first feel to their vices. The danger of intimacy with such a man as Desmond Smith is that there is something to captivate the taste and blind the judgment. I may be wrong about him, I hope I am; but I would have you keep on your guard, as I intend to do. I felt when in his presence as one does in an atmosphere where he cannot breathe freely. 66 Angus here alluded to a visit which he and I had paid to Desmond Smith one evening after the party to Richmond. We were on our way to execute a commission for Mr. Arnold, at the west end of the town, and we overtook Desmond Smith, who was also walking thither from the city. He pre-sed us so earnestly, and with so much kindness of manner to come to his lodgings and take coffee with him, that I willingly and at once accepted the invitation. "You forget," said Angus quietly, turning to me, that we have to go to the further end of Piccadilly for Mr. Arnold, and that we promised to deliver the packet to Lady S before six o'clock." 66 Well, my dear fellow," replied Desmond Smith, putting his hand on Angus's hand, "that arrangement will just suit me; I could not give you coffee much before seven for I have one or two calls to make. You will find Jermyn Street, quite in your way as you return, and so good bye," he added, shaking the hand of Angus, which he still grasped-" you both promise to come." I said, "Yes;" but Angus hesitated. Afterwards however, he also promised, and we parted, Desmond Smith calling out "you walk too fast for me, for I am not quite the man I was before my illness, even yet." It was before seven that we entered the room of our new acquaintance. I almost started back at the elegance and luxury of every thing before me, and foolishly expressed my admiration of what I saw. Angus said nothing, and there was a coldness about his manner (usually so hearty) that I had never seen before. You must excuse my getting up to shake hands with you both, glad as I am to see you, and admiring as I do your more than mercantile punctuality, but I thought this would be over before you came. I am going, to tell you the truth, to Lady Sussex's masquerade to-night, and I sent for Isidore to dress my hair at half-past six, that I might be able to pass the rest of the evening with you. I hate powder and never wear it, but I don't wish to be known this evening; and I am going in the character of a French gentleman of the ancien regime, a sort of gentleman that I hate as heartily as I hate powder. A better reign of things has commenced in that "beau pays de France, n'est ce pa, Achille ?'"'* Monsieur Achille shrugged his great shoulders, and made a sort of grimace, which was intended for a smile, as he said, Pour moi je deteste la poudre, et les petits martres et je dis á bas l'un et l'antre."t All this time Desmond Smith was reclining carelessly in a large arm chair, with a loose dressing gown Fine land of France, is it not so, Isidore? For my part I detest powder, and fine gentlemen, and cry, down with them both. 66 of rich brocaded silk thrown round him, and Monsieur Achillea guant ferocious looking puppy of a hair dresser was frizzing and powdering his hair. "Vrament," said Monsieur Achille, as he lifted up one of the fine dark curls, and looked at Angus, quel dimmage de souiller une chevelure si magnifique avec cete vile poudre de farine, et cete detestable graisse." It is unnatural enough," said Angus, but many that I love wear powder." "That man" said Desmond Smith, as the hair dresser quitted the room, “is a remarkable person, he is a great politician. He came to me as a favour this evening, for he is about to return to his own country in a few days, you wou'd not think it, but he has been recalled.' "Ah, well," said Angus bluntly, "perhaps he will be no great lo-s, and will lose little in leaving our island. His trade is a more flourishing one there, I hope." "He does not return to any trade," replied Desmond Smith, gravely; it has been privately intimated to him that there are openings at present for political advancement to men of talent and enterprise at Paris, a wonderful era has lately commenced there." Angus smiled. "Do you feally mean what you say, Mr. Smith?" he said, ““ I should be sorry to speak uncharitable of any one; and a hair dresser, if a good and wise man, is a credit to his country; but, is that grinning, il-looking man a wise man, letting alone his being a good one?" "To say the truth," replied Desmond Smith, "I may tell you with confidence that Achille is not the very best of characters; it has been said that he left his own country because he was branded for some crime or other, and could not shew his face there. However, he has been unrivalled here, and they do say that he left not his equal even in Paris. I could not have gone to night to that masquerade, that is, I mean in the character I have chosen, if Achille had been unable to dress my hair." As he spoke Angus rose up. "You are going out," he said, and we must only be in the way, so good night to you. "I can't hear of your going," replied the other. Why my good friends, my evening will not begin till you are both in bed and fast asleep, now do sit down. Rush will be here in one moment with the coffee, and I wish you to taste it. No less a person than Achille himself taught the boy to make it." He rang the bell, and Rush,.his young servant lad immediately made his appearance with the steaming coffee, and biscuits, and a little bottle of liqueur on a silver waiter. "You told us that you were to be at Lady Sussex's to-night," I now remarked, "how odd; we have just taken a packet to her from Mr. Arnold." "Why," he replied, colouring slightly, and hesitating, "it is a most mysterious circumstance that a ticket was sent to me, and I can't tell by whom. However, here it is," he added, careless'y tossing it to me, for on these occasions every one must have a ticket, and so I mean to go. I have met Lady Sussex often, but I have never been introduced to her." "And do you mean," said Angus, with a glow of honest warmth, "to put a ma-k upon your face, and go among your betters, when you have not been even Truly, said Monsieur Achille, it is a pity to defile such a magnificent head of hair with this vile flour, and this detestable grease. 66 asked. Surely you will do up the ticket in paper and seal it, and send it back to her Ladyship, and explain that a mistake has been made." Desmond Smith threw himself back at the risk of discomposing his dress and powdered head, and laughed aloud. My dear fellow, he said, I love your honesty, indeed I do, qu te admire it, and here again he laughed as if unable to suppress his laughter. I wish I had the same inimitable simplicity, but I know the world, and you do not What you say about my betters, however, I don't exactly understand-a mere title does not make any man or woman my betters, and rejoice to think that the new era which has already commenced in France will soon dawn upon our own country, an era of glorious independence and equality when the rights of nian will be not only understood but allowed.--" Here," he added, handing to Angus a pamphlet which he had laid down as we entered, "here is a new play by Monti-full of the bold and new-born freedom that I adore." I do not forget the countenance of Angus, the look, calm, noble, but searching, which he fixed on Desmond, "You are but a youth," he said solemnly, "and I am no more; but I should be false to my God and to you, if I did not tell you to your face that you have entered upon ways, smooth and pleasant as they are perhaps to you now, which, unless you turn from them at once, and for ever, must end in eternal misery. As for the world, I know that we are both pledged to renounce it, if I had not understood its dangers before, I have heard and seen enough this night, to do so." The Duties of Young Men.---No. 1. INDUSTRY. THE wisest man that ever lived, has said, "The hand of the diligent maketh rich." And perhaps there is no moral duty which is more earnestly insisted on in the Bible than that of industry or diligence. Take the following examples,-"He that gathereth in summer is a wise son," "The hand of the diligent shall bear rule, but the slothful shall be under tribute." "The soul of the diligent shall be made fat." "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings, he shall not stand before mean men." "Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit serving the Lord." "We hear that there are some which walk among you disorderly, working not at all, but as busybodies. Now them that are such, we command and exhort by one Lord Jesus Christ, that with quietness they work and eat their own bread." It is the order of Divine Providence that man shall labour; and whatever some may think to the contrary, there is no state in the world more happy than that wherein we have to earn our bread before we eat it. Witness the labouring man or mechanic who truly loves God and works for his living. Look at his honest and happy countenance. See his grateful sense of a merciful Providence in giving him the reward of his labour. See his uplifted hand, and hear his short, but fervent petition, ere he partakes of that food which his industry has procured. Look with what satisfaction he eats, it may be his "dinner of herbs," and think how little he feels of dyspepsy, or the hundred of bodily complaints which afflict the idle, not to say the dissolute. View him returning from his labour in the evening, and if you are an idler in creation, envy, as you well may-his real enjoyment of the short time he has for recreation previous to his going to rest. If he is "but a youth," how will his happy spirit bound within him, when,-conscious that he has done his day's work,---he rambles forth to enjoy a calm summer's evening; or directs his steps to the House of God to partake of a week-evening service. If he is a full-grown man, and at the head of a family, what sluggard's heart can feel the intensity of his happiness as he approaches bis little cottage after his day's labour; and where au industrious and God-fearing wife has made his home the very model of neatness and order; and where he expects to meet the mirthful welcome of his prattling little ones. And then his sleep. Ah! how sweet, how composed! He lies down with a clear conscience, which is by far the easiest pillow on which the head of man can be laid; and after one sound sleep he wakes at an early hour, from habit,---and having bent his knees in prayer, and read it may be only one verse in the Holy Book of God, he walks forth with a stock of strength for a new day's labour, to be rewarded by the same necessary results. Industry brings with it its own reward, an industrious youth is usually a happy youth, whilst an idle youth is seldom happy; his very idleness is a grievance to himself as well as to others, and being dissatisfied with himself, he cannot speak in peace or good humour to any one. His idleness will not suffer him to do even what his mind approves, and if he even makes an effort, it is with so little heart or energy, that his efforts and his failure usually go together. In fact, he always fears a failure, or sees a "lion in the way" and so never succeeds. Such idle, and consequently worthless young men, never yet accomplished any thing good or great. All the physical strength they possess is ailowed to flow in the channel which requires no effort of mind, not to say of principle; and an inglorious, unmanly, and unchristian sloth hangs about them like a cloak. Useless and unprofitable, they drag. on a weary existence. If the commercial greatness, or philanthropic benevolence of our beloved country were left to such spirits the sun of our prosperity would quickly go down for ever. The richest people among the Jews, brought up their children to some honest trade, and the governments of the ancient Greeks and Romans were so convinced of the evils of sloth that they appointed officers to inform against those who spent their time in idleness. It is recorded of Queen Mary, who was the eldest daughter of James II. and consort of William III. and who died in 1694, that by her example it became as much a fashion among the ladies of quality to work as it had been formerly to be idle. She had no relish for those indolent diversions which are the too common consumers of most people's time, and which make as great waste on their minds. Bishop Burnet says, "she was a perfect pattern of conjugal love, chastity, and obedience. She read the best books in English, French, and Dutch, which were almost equally familiar to her; but gave the most of her retired hours to the reading of the Scriptures and books relating to them." Dr. Fothergill, an eminent Quaker Physician who died in December 1780, said of himself, "I endeavour to follow my business, because it is my duty rather than my interest, the latter is inseparable from a just discharge of my duty: but I ever look at the profits in the LAST place. I endea vour to do my duty with all the diligence I can as a present duty." "Whatsoever thy hand fiindeth to do," that is, whatsoever is a proper object of labour, "do it with thy might:" and let that commaud of thy Saviour be thy first principle of action, "Labour not for the meat which perisheth, but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: in all things seeking first the kingdom of God and his righteousness." TIMOTHEUS. The late Miss Bird, of Calcutta, WHILE we feel a melancholy satisfaction in calling to remembrance the lives and deaths of the dear friends we have lost, the Christian has a higher motive of tracing the character of departed believers. He would do it to shew forth His glory whose Gospel they adorned, and who has commanded us to "be followers of them who through faith and patience inherit the promises." It is with this feeling that the following memoir is drawn up; and with an earnest wish that it may be blessed of God in stimulating His people to active exertion in his service, when they see how much may be effected by a private individual; and, above all, in setting forth His praise who made the subject of it what she was. Miss Bird, daughter of Robert Bird, Esq., of Taplow, Bucks, was born in London, May 29, 1787, and entered her heavenly rest in Calcutta in the month of May 1834, a victim to that mysterious pestilence which, after desolating the East for several years, has gradually, though with mercifullymitigated ravages, swept over Europe, and found its way even across the vast Atlantic to the Western World. Her early years were passed in the bosom of her family. While a child she manifested no anxiety upon spiritual subjects; nor was it till the age of seventeen or eighteen that the religious character for which she was afterwards so eminently distinguished began to dawn. There was nothing remarkablethat is, specially so, for every thing connected with the operations of God's mercy to fallen man is remarkable, and infinitely memorable---in the first openings of Divine grace in her soul. She often spoke of the early instructions which she had received from her mother; adding, that it was the observing how much she desired for her children the salvation of their souls, beyond any earthly good, that led her to consider her own eternal interests to be a matter of deep personal concern. At this period she with her family passed some years at New York. There she became acquainted with the venerable Mrs. Graham, whose conversation and instructions were much blessed, in leading on her mind, and in forming and maturing her spiritual character. Her zeal to be useful to others, and her perseverance in carrying on her plans for their good, began to be apparent at this time; for though much engaged in the instruction of some of the younger members of her family, she yet laboured diligently among the poor and ignorant; and her delight and activity in these employments induced her to carry them on to the injury of her health. Returning to England in 1812, she was for some years greatly afflicted by bodily weakness, and more than once was brought near the grave. This, which was peculiarly a trial to one of her active habits and ardent disposition, and was accompanied at times by such mental conflict, was made the means in the hand of God of greatly deepening and strengthening the work of His grace in her heart, and no doubt of preparing her for future usefulness. For the last seven years of her abode in this country she was diligently engaged in the instruction of the poor in the neighbourhoods in which she resided; and there are now some rejoicing with her before the throne of God, to whom she was blessed, as the instrument of opening their eyes and turning them from darkness to light; and not a few, it is believed, are on their way to heaven who will be her crown of rejoicing in the great day. But Miss Bird's character was not formed only for usefulness among the poor. God had given her natural abilities of a very enlarged character, and these she had diligently cultivated; and this, together with the influence which a spiritual mind always gives its possessor, made her society not less acceptable among those of her own class than to those who were the objects of her charitable care. But her earnest desire and endeavour were to use every talent to the glory of the Giver, and to obey that command, "Occupy till I come." In the year 1823 she was induced, by the affection she bore to a widowed brother in India, to leave her beloved home for the alleviation of his trial; and in taking this step she was not a little influenced by the hope, that she might in some way be useful to the ignorant and degraded female population in India. With this idea she commenced the study of Hindoostanee during her voyage, and diligently prosecuted it after her arrival in Calcutta, till she attained such proficiency as to be enabled to compose and converse in the language with great facility. Providential circumstances some time after, rendering her abode in India no longer necessary, the question arose, whether she ought not to return to her native land; but, after serious deliberation, she resolved to remain, for the purpose of devoting herself to Missionary labours. In the pursuit of this object, the path which she marked out for herself was peculiar. The particulars are so well narrated in a paper published in the Calcutta " Christian Intelligencer" for June 1834, from the pen of a lady in Calcutta, a particular friend of the deceased, that we cannot do better than make the following extracts from it "Miss Bird arrived in this country in 1823, and proceeded to her brother, R. M. Bird, Esq,, of the Civil service, then stationed at Goruckpore, a place well suited to her taste. A mission of the Established Church had already been formed there, in which she immediately became warmly interested; and, besides assisting in superintending the boys' schools, she collected one on her own premises for native females. She was thus occupied in the same benevolent way she had been in England, visiting and instructing the young and ignorant. Nor was this all, for here she commenced translating elementary works into Hindoostanee, and continued to devote some portion of her time daily to this useful employment till her lamented death. In this interval she paid some short visits to the neighbouring missionary stations, and also to Calcutta, for the purpose of contributing to the comfort of a younger brother, suffering severely under the bereavement of an amiable wife, who fell a victim to cholera -the same frightful disease that so suddenly terminated the life and labours of his admirable sister. "In 1830 she finally quitted Goruckpore and came to Calcutta, with the intention of remaining as long as she could be useful; and, with a courage which those only who knew the real sensitiveness of her nature could estimate, she commenced seeking where she could do good; and when once this was found, nothing could deter her from prosecuting her labours till fruits of success were visible. "No power but love could thus have animated a feeble and delicate female love to God in the first place; love to her fellow beings in the next. Though most acutely alive to the opinions of those among whom she lived, she still pursued her way through evil report and good report. The path she marked out for herself, new, and hitherto untrodden, was to visit in their homes the numerous females descended, from Christian parents, with whom Calcutta abounds, who speak Hindoostanee, but are totally unable to benefit by instruction in English, or to read any language at all. To these persons Miss Bird was the messenger of glad tidings, explaining and teaching the Gospel of Peace, with such earnestness and sincerity that she seldom failed to make a deep impression. She devoted Thursday evening in every week to the instruction of these Hindoostanee females at her own residence. By degrees the number increased; and in the afternoon of Sunday, for two years past, they were joined by a few native converts, under the instruction of a Christian Mouluvee, who assisted, by reading the prayers and exposition of Scripture which Miss Bird had previously prepared. At the time of her death there were no less than fifty females who were thus receiving instruction in the way of life |