He will bless us while on the sea of this life, until we reach the shore of peace without fear or trouble, that we may be ready to stand before the seat of the Lord Jesus the Judge of all, clothed in the robes of His perfect righteousness, which he wove for us on the Cross, and is now ready to give to those who ask Him.  Let us then all ask of God that this our only treasure may be placed where no thief can break in and steal, and no moth shall corrupt.  And may the Lord preserve you!

We love to sing this hymn,

    ’Holy Bible, Book Divine,
    Precious treasure, thou art mine!’

and we entreat you that when you sing it, you will let it be a remembrancer from us to you.”

In March, 1865, a little girl was brought to the school under somewhat peculiar circumstances.  Years ago, in the days of Mr. Whiting, a Maronite monk named Nejm, became enlightened, left the monastery and was married to a Maronite woman named Zarifeh, by Mr. Whiting.  For years the poor man passed through the fires of persecution and trial.  Even his wife, in her ignorance, though not openly opposing him, trembled with fear every time he read the Scriptures aloud.  At the time mentioned above, their little daughter Resha was about five years of age.  The Papal Maronite Bishop of Beirut made a visit to Nejm’s village, Baabda, to dispense indulgences, in accordance with the Pope’s Encyclical letter.  Nejm was called upon to pay his portion of the sum assessed upon the people, but having been a Protestant fifteen years, he refused to pay it.  At the instigation of the priests, his wife was then taken from him, and his little Resha, his only child, was carried off by one of the priests to Beirut, and thrust inside the gates of the convent of the French Sisters of Charity.  The poor father came to me, well-nigh broken-hearted, pleading for assistance.  I laid the case before His Excellency Daud Pasha, Governor of Lebanon, who was then in Beirut, and drew up a petition to the Pasha of Beirut also, on the subject.  Nejm went about weeping and wringing his hands, and my feelings became deeply enlisted in his behalf.  Three weeks afterwards, after a series of petitions and visits to the Pasha of Beirut, the girl Resha was removed from the convent and taken by Nejm’s enemies to a house near Nahr Beirut, about two miles distant, and just over the border line of the Mountain Pashalic.  I then addressed another letter to Daud Pasha, and he promptly ordered her to be restored to her father.  The manner in which Nejm, the father, finally secured the child was not a little amusing.  He had been searching for his child for several weeks, waiting and watching, until his patience was about exhausted, when he heard that Resha was again in the hands of the priests in Baabda.  The mother followed the child, and the priests threatened to kill her, if she informed her husband where the girl was secreted.  Daud Pasha was then at his winter palace in Baabda, and Nejm took my letter to