assisted in emptying my slender purse. I have just received my father's letter of the 4th, and am exceedingly happy to hear that the church have all come to one mind concerning Mr. Jack. The choosing of a minister is in general one of the most trying times to our churches; and I think we have much reason to bless God that roots of bitterness have not been permitted to spring up and trouble us. Things are going on pretty well among us. The people round about seem to be hungering and thirsting after righteousness. Mr. A. preached in the country on Friday, at a new station, where the people themselves had requested that some one should come. There is a great want of labourers; they have pressed Mr. R. into the service, but still there is employment which is more than enough for them."

"St. Andrew's, February 22, 1825.

My dear brother,

I have sometimes blamed, or rather pitied you, (for it is not a legitimate subject of blame,) for a want of feeling; and I am quite sorry I have ever done so; for the deep pathos which runs through some of your letters, which are, notwithstanding, expressed in all the unaffected and unstudied simplicity of nature, convinces me that I have been very far mistaken. I recollect being very much struck by your truly pathetical, yet artless account of the death of T. Greig, which was contained in a letter you sent me about a year ago;

and I have been still more affected by your very touching allusion, in your last, to the death of our brother. I would indulge the hope that this event may have proved a blessing to us as a family. In all the communications I have received from home, there has, I think, been displayed a spirit of greater tenderness than usual. With your own short letter I have been particularly pleased. You could not have given me a more satisfactory proof that this dispensation has been in some degree blessed to you than the feeling of self-condemnation which your letter breathes.

Your truly affectionate brother."

"My dear sister,

I have the expectation of seeing you so soon that it may be thought almost unnecessary for me now to write to you: but I cannot think of letting the session pass without sending you a letter. I was gratified to hear from Mr. Muir that you had written a letter for me. I am quite sorry you did not send it, for I am sure that those very things which seemed blemishes to you would have enhanced its value to me. It is an easy and unstudied effusion of sentiment which constitutes the great charm of epistolary correspondence. I wish you would always write to me the simple dictates of your own heart without any external interference whatever, and with the fullest confidence that what you write will never meet any eye but my own. I hope to see you now in a few weeks, and to be able to devote a good part of my

time in the summer months to your education. I hope you have been going on with your French. I should have written you a much longer letter had it not been that I expect so soon to see you personally. In the mean time believe that

I remain, my dear sister,

Your most affectionate brother."

In these letters the feelings of nature are expressed in a very interesting manner. The letter to his brother contains some very delicate touches, and manifests much tact and discrimination, as well as great ingenuousness, and deep concern for the salvation of his soul. May his prayers and expostulations not be in vain!

The two following, though the last is without date, appear to have been written during this

session.

"St. Andrew's, March 13, 1825.

My dear friend,

This is Sabbath evening and it is now pretty late, yet I cannot think of letting my father go without writing by him. I have had but little experience in the feelings of the afflicted, but yet I can remember how the receipt of a letter from a friend, or any such little incident, would sometimes mitigate in a degree, the pains of disease, by chequering the dull and tedious hours of confine

ment.

And if in this way I can have any hope of ministering to your comfort, it were surely most

ungrateful of me to let slip through negligence, a single opportunity of doing so. My father tells me that you are still very poorly; but you know from experience, far better than I can tell you, that every affliction works for the good of them that love God. You must have a satisfaction in feeling that every trial through which God has carried you has been an additional proof of his love to you, and of your interest in a Saviour! A satisfaction which that individual whose religion (like mine) has been all in the sunshine of prosperity cannot enjoy. I have not yet proceeded far on the voyage of life, and hitherto all has been smooth and prosperous; but I sometimes look forward with dread foreboding to the many tempests which I may have to encounter on life's rough sea, and to the many waves of trouble and distress which roll between me and that peaceful shore, where "billows never beat, nor tempests roar." And at such times I could envy the case of that bark which, like yours, has long been tossed by many a tempest, but which has weathered them all and is just about to drop anchor in the peaceful haven. But I feel that this is a sinful feeling, and proceeds from weakness of faith. It is doubting His word who has said, "when thouw alkest through the fire it shall not burn thee; and through the waters they shall not overflow thee." I am sorry that I am obliged here to conclude abruptly, as my time is gone. May the Lord support you in all your trials!

Your very affectionate and much obliged friend."

I cannot think of leaving you, as we parted last night, without some expression of what I feel at your often repeated kindness, which has entailed upon me a debt of gratitude which I can never discharge. All that I am and all that I have, are devoted, I trust, to the service of God; and the only way that I can ever repay the kindness of christian friends is, by redoubling my ardour in the great cause for which we all live, and for which we all die. If this shall be the effect of your generosity, it will produce to you a double reward and to me a double benefit. You will not only enjoy the thought that you have gained the lasting gratitude and good wishes of a fellow-pilgrim in this world, but when this world and all the things that are therein shall be burnt up, you will be rewarded a thousand fold as having contributed in some degree, through that unworthy individual, to promote the interests of a cause, the noblest that ever occupied the thoughts of men or of angels; I had almost said, of God himself.

And if your kindness prove to me, as I trust it will, a stimulus to greater exertion in the cause to which I am devoted, that will be an infinitely greater benefit than all the advantages it may directly confer. Thus may the Lord make your kindness a double blessing both to the giver and to the receiver. And to his name be all the thanks and all the glory.

I remain your much obliged friend and brother in the Lord."