M. Well, my child, your soul will live as many years as could be represented by all the marks on all the slates. E. And will my soul die then, mother? M. No, Eliza, it will not die then; but will keep on living. It will live as many years again as all the marks on the slates in the great piles, and then it will not die-it will still keep on living. It will live as many years as all the marks would amount to on a hundred such piles; of slates—on a thousand such piles of slateson as many such piles as you can think of, from the ground away up to the sky, one on the top of another. And even then your soul will not die —it will still keep on living. Your soul will live for ever. It will never, never die! E. Oh, mother, mother, how long my soul will live! I cannot think how long it will live. But where will it live? Where will it go to when I die? Who will take care of my soul? What will it do? Will it keep thinking? Will your soul, and mine, and dear sister Julia's, go to the same place, mother, after we are all dead? Do you know? If you do, do tell me. I wish to know all about it very much indeed. M. Eliza, I am afraid we have not time now, but it shall not be long before I will tell you more. You will have a great deal to learn about soul; your and about where it is going to, after your body is dead and laid in the grave; and what you must do, that your soul may be happy for ever. hope, that If you do Eliza then went to bed; but she did not gu to sleep for some time. She kept thinking about her soul, and wondering where it would go to, after her body should die, and be laid in the grave. THE IMMORTAL SOUL. THE leaves of autumn pass away But there is something that will live, Time and this earth shall cease to be. It is the soul, the better part, That which is thinking in my heart; My soul can never, never die. CHILDRENS' MISSIONARY MEETING. A GREAT Missionary Meeting of Sabbath School Children and their Teachers has been held at Exeter Hall, London. A gentleman who was present says ;-This day has witnessed one of the most affecting spectacles ever exhibited in our metropolis, or in the world. The Directors of the London Missionary Society wisely resolved to assemble the senior Sundayscholars, and Juvenile Associations connected with them, in Exeter Hall, that their attention might be formally and specially called to the subject of Missions. The call has been heartily responded to by parents, pastors, and teachers. Between five and six thousand young people met this morning, besides a multitude of the three classes just specified. The heavens seemed to smile upon the object; the day was singularly fine; the sun shone forth with power, and diffused a general gladness, in delightful keeping with the joyous occasion. Between the hours of eight and eleven, clusters of young people, and troops of Sunday-scholars, were seen pressing through the main streets which conduct to the Hall. Some of the more distant schools came in vans, containing from forty to sixty persons each. We saw a number of these vehicles moving along Fleet-street in the line of carriages and omnibuses, the drivers of which seemed not a little amused with their new com panions in travel. Passing some of the vans, we heard the voice of melody sweetly issuing from their living loads, which appeared to be very little distracted by the strange position which they occupied, and the strange objects that surrounded them, both inviting attention and rewarding it. Long before the hour for the commencement of business, the Great Hall was crowded in every part; the overflowing mass was received in the Lower Hall, which was also soon filled; and the excess were accommodated in a third room. ~ We must now endeavour to give our readers some idea of the scene which the Hall presented. Long as we have been accustomed to public movements and Missionary meetings, we confess that, to-day, we felt ourselves in a somewhat novel situation. The objects by which we were surrounded, were of a character calculated to excite the most intense emotion. The first figure presented, was the stately form and the dark, tranquil, but expressive visage of Mr. Moffat, who, after some suitable observations, called up the young African, Sarah Roby, whom, sixteen years ago, he rescued from the grave in which maternal hands had placed her. There he stands in all the honest pride of Christian philanthropy, with the objects of his compassion at his side, in the face of the wondering myriads to whom he recites the tragic story of her deliverance. With what delight he recites the tale! We actually see him stooping to hear the expiring cries which had been reported to proceed from the earth. We behold him feeling for ground, which by its softness might bespeak recent disturbance. He comes at last upon a broad stone, from beneath which one of the faintest audible sounds ascends. He removes it, and finds a naked female infant about a month old! He and Mrs. Moffat take and nourish her as a daughter; they train her for God; they bring her to England; there she stands before us, clothed in European apparel, and able to speak three languages! With what delight and admiration the assembly gaze upon her and her deliverer! Poor girl! there she is, without a friend on earth, but those which the Gospel of mercy has procured her. To that man and his partner, she owes everything that can render life dear and death happy. What an example of the benevolence of the Gospel of Christ the spectacle presents to the juvenile audience! Mr. Moffat next presented a young man, also a native of Africa, who addressed the meeting in a few simple thoughts, expressed in very good English. The Rev. A. Fletcher next followed in a speech of remarkable power and appropriateness. It was in the best manner of that prince of preachers to juvenile assemblies. Utterly forgetful, or utterly regardless, of the presence |