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ened to the call. The day on which it was found by a constable was St. Thomas Day, so the babe was named Thomas. The infant was found in a place between two bridges, so it was called Bridges -Thomas Bridges. It was lodged in an almshouse, and fed on public bounty, veritably a little pauper.

The years brought him up into young manhood, and then he longed to be a missionary. There was one place which no one had ventured to go. The missionary society said he could go to the land which Darwin had described and declared was absolutely hopeless. It was taking his own life in his hands, but he went, and revealed the heroic spirit of the Gospel. He dared to go amongst the savages, and live with them, and spelled out a language for them, and then related the story of Christ and His salvation. He made a translation of the Bible for them, and, as they read it, they were melted by it, and subdued, and Christianized, until Darwin, honest and fearless man that he was, publicly acknowledged his mistake, and gave a contribution to this work which had demonstrated the power of God in changing men and their environment.

The English Admiralty had sent out orders that

no ship of theirs should land on that coast. They now sent out orders that all ships could land there and trade.

same.

Civilization was manifest everywhere in that region, and a miracle of miracles was witnessed by all the world. Environment at first remained the God was revealed and then lived. Behold also the environment of the babe, an outcast in the street of the great city. Behold the King among men in Thomas Bridges, mighty on earth and mighty in heaven. Any man or any place can know the power of the divine life through the Divine Man.

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And when the stream
Which overflowed the soul was passed away
A consciousness remained that it had left
Deposited, upon the silent shore
Of memory, images and precious thoughts
That shall not die and cannot be destroyed.

-WORDSWORTH.

When Time, who steals our years away,
Shall steal our pleasures too,
The memory of the past will stay
And half our joys renew.

Friends depart and memory takes them
To her caverns pure and deep.

Oft in the stilly night

Ere slumber's chain has bound me
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me.

The smiles, the tears,

How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start
When memory plays an old tune on the heart.

Of boyhood's years,

The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,

Now dim and gone

The cheerful hearts now broken.

-MOORE.

-BAYLY.

-Cook.

-MOORE.

X

LIFE'S MEMORY

THE Sweet waters of memory touch the parched lip with refreshment and enter the veins of life with creative power and bring back the disturbed heart to its normal beat. Memory is one of the greatest factors in success and one of the most powerful ingredients in character. It is the beneficent hand which carries the past up to the threshold of the present and gives it, as a sacred offering, to the future. Every to-day and to-morrow has an unbroken relation to every yesterday. The golden thread of memory binds them together in "the bundle of life." The young, kingly minstrel David was hunted like a bird among the hills and rocks of Judea. He had just wept upon the neck of the faithful Jonathan, and the last effort for reconciliation with King Saul had failed. He now sought refuge in the caves of the mountains where he had found shelter from other storms when

a shepherd. Then the fierce lightnings and loud thunders were picturesque and musical to his soul in touch with God. But now his loyal heart was almost broken, and it fluttered like a frightened partridge before the sudden appearance of the hunter. Around him had gathered a motley crowd of disheartened and discontented people, but among that number were some mighty men of valor who were ready for most heroic service. They were chivalrous, and imperious, fleet of foot, and lion-like in strength. They wrought no devastation in the country nor drew the blood of a single lamb, but were devoted to the commands and interests of their young captain. They were in a desolate region where the eastern sun scorched every green thing which grew around the edge of the barren rocks. The retreats within the rocks were oppressive with heat of noon-day. In this close atmosphere and utter desolation the courage of young David's heart began to waver for a moment. Now behold one of the most pathetic touches in his whole life. His memory takes him back to his old home in Bethlehem, and he sees again the waving grain-fields and purple-clustered trellises, and the emerald glory of the hillsides. Brightest and

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