The same eye that incessantly watches the reposing ashes of Bloomfield, whose tomb stands not more than ten minutes' walk from where I resided, piloted over the world of waters, in 1816, the Rev. Isaac Lowndes, with his wife and infant daughter, to succeed the departed labourer. Mrs. L. was shortly called to her rest, and her mortal remains slumber in the island of Zante, with this inscription on her grave,—'Eμoì yàp tò lñv Χριτὸς, καὶ τὸ ἀποθανεῖν κέρδος, “ for to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." The Spirit of Christ was, I believe, the living principle of her new life-the love of Christ the rule of her lifethe sufferings of Christ the ground of her life-the presence of Christ the joy of her life-the kingdom of Christ the hope of her life—and the glory of Christ the end of her life.

This highly interesting isle, in consequence chiefly of the unsettled state of Greece, was long tenanted by myself, and some other Missionaries from the Congregational churches of America. The latter brethren left for the Levant in 1833. There are at present in Malta, a devoted Wesleyan Missionary, and a very efficient Press, pertaining to the diocesan episcopal church of England. From missionary efforts in Malta, important and visible changes have resulted, both to the natives and the British garrison, and the fleets in those waters.

Since my return to England, it has pleased the All-wise to remove to the world of the blessed the endeared partner of my days, who, for about eight years prior to our departure for London, had been gradually declining under a most painful affection of the nervous system.-O let me hope, that the pious reader of this brief sketch, will lay it down with a fervent prayer, that the best of Heaven's blessings may continue to attend those men of God who now occupy this important “isle of the ocean."

THE WORLD IS WITH ME STILL.

BY MRS. ABDY.

THOU vain and dazzling World, whose specious pleasures

Once laid my youthful time and talents waste,
I quit thy service, I abjure thy treasures,
And thy enchanted cup forbear to taste;
my Master's precepts to fulfil—

I strive

Yet thou art with me still.

When in my peaceful study's calm seclusion,

Silent I sit to read and to reflect,

Thou on my thoughts wilt make unasked intrusion,

In the fair garb of human intellect;

Amid the scholar's lore, the poet's skill
The world is with me still.

In the congenial scenes of Christian union,
Too much I lean on some frail mortal arm,
Earth's baubles mingle with that dear communion,
Taste, talent, eloquence my senses charm,
To homely piety my heart feels chill-
The world is with me still.

When I bestow alms, succour, or protection,
When works of charity I aid or plan,

I seek for human counsel and direction,

I court the smile, and fear the frown, of man;
To God I cannot meekly bend my will-
The world is with me still.

Its sarcasms dismay, its censures grieve me;
Its sought and chosen guide I sigh to be;
Its praises soothe, its blandishments deceive me;
Where shall I haste from my bright enemy?
To what far hermitage retire from ill?
The world pursues me still.

I spoke, when, lo! on my uneasy spirit,
A soft and heavenly voice appeared to rise,

-“ Vain trifler, boasting thy own worthless merit, Proud of a few cheap acts of sacrifice;

The world within thy heart still holds its throne,
And therefore seeks its own.

"Thou workest in thine own weak strength, still greeting The world's delights beneath a different name,

And in the study, and the social meeting,
Excitement, mental treasures, mortal fame,
Are flowers by that false world before thee thrown,
To keep thee still its own.

"Seek not the hermit's cell-on Thought's swift pinion,
Phantoms of earth would still before thee stand;
Seek not thy pious friends-sin found dominion
Even in the chosen apostolic band:

In the blest book of life thy way is shown-
Rest on that Rock alone.

"Rest on thy Saviour's last and bitter trial,
There let thy sole, thy sure dependence be,
Lay thy poor wounded deeds of self-denial,
Humbly before the cross of Calvary ;
He who there died for sinners to atone,
Would have thee all his own.

"When in successive shapes of bright temptation
The world assaults thee, call upon his name,
Seek from his Holy Spirit consolation,
If doomed to suffer its reproach and shame,
And human hinderances and helps disown,
Clinging to him alone!"

HEBREW MELODY.

BY W. H. PRIDEAUX.

ISAIAH LIV. 1.

SING, O barren wilderness,
Break forth aloud in song;
Brilliant and cumberless,

Roll its tide along.

Ocean, floods, and fountains,
Echo forth the sound;

Caverned rocks and mountains
Reverberate it round.

Enlarge thy habitations,

Go, prosper on thy way,

And after generations

Thy calling shall obey.

Thou shalt not witness sorrow,

Nor be by fear undone, But bright shall be thy morrow,

As the meridian sun!

Thy God will not forsake thee,
But husband thee aright,
And to many nations make thee

An animating light.