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drop, one, one, one drop of the water of life ; just one drop of the water of life, Lord.”

Surely this is the language of an earnest boy. My friend, have you got one crumb of this bread of life, or is your poor soul still in a starring state? And yet you can rest so easy! You girls and boys in our Presbyterian homes and schools in England, -in London, in Man. 1 chester, in Liverpool, in Birmingham, Leeds, Sunderland, and other places, can you sit at ease with all these sins upon your souls, while the poor Irish children are crying out for the bread and water of life with such earnestness, and others—thousands of them-are rejoicing in the salvation of God, and speaking of his lovingkindness all the day? Their language is, “We will trust and not be afraid, for the Lord Jehovah is our strength and our song; he also has become our salvation; therefore, with joy we draw water from the wells of salvation."

We cannot tell you more about this glorious work at present. Next month we may. But do not wait till next month: it may never come to you. If you have not found Christ already, go to him at once ; plead as the little boy pleaded, and the Saviour will not send you empty away.

MY NEGRO SABBATH CLASS. A KIND lady who once formed a class of little Negroes in a Sabbath school, in New York, gives us the following very interesting account of them :

Among the names, I registered Andrew Jackson, Andrew Jackson, jr., Marquis Lafayette, George Washington, and Byron Clarke. When about to inquire the name of the last, I was forestalled by his calling out in a stentorian voice, “My name ain't nothing but Bill Jones; but I guess you have heard of the boy who sings Nigger



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songs, and dances Jim Crow at the Harrison House." He was unfortunately not mistaken in his notoriety, and the task before me assumed a new magnitude. None of them could read, and after half an hour of A B C, I proceeded to ask some simple questions of Bible history, of which I soon found that they knew absolutely nothing ; their ideas of God even were as wild as those of the little Hindoos. So I began at the beginning. I spoke of the six days of creation; then of the deluge. When in my account of the ark, and its wondrous freight, I was interrupted by one—“Did they have bears ?”

“ Yes," I answered. “ And lions ?" “ Yes." Elephants ? · Yes.“Monkeys ?” “ Yes.” And finally Billy Jones, all eagerness, “ Did they have a clown ?

And I found, to my utter dismay, that my youthful auditors had conceived of Noah merely as the proprietor of a menagerie, travelling in that wild waste of waters. Truly this was fallow ground. But our superintendent only smiled encouragement and bade me go forward.

Sabbath after Sabbath rolled on, and rain or sunshine, my six boys were always in their places, They had learned to love the school, especially the sweet hymns ; and their quick sympathies had gone out to one who at least always tried to treat them gently and kindly. Of their affection I had many unmistakable proofs. Once I remember when walking in one of the quiet streets, I was suddenly startled by three loud cheers, and looking up I saw the “ Marquis,” Andrew Jackson, and Byron Clarke. Though not precisely the most agreeable greeting for a young lady, I could not in my heart do less than wave a return. Again, they frequently brought to our door presents of flowers and fruit. In one instance the latter bore such a striking resemblance to some rosy-cheeked apples in a reighbour's orchard, that I was forced to reprove the boy, and the next Sabbath took for our?“ lesson talk " the eighth commandment. Not many days after, the same child made his appearance at the kitchen, his hands filled with the first pond-lilies of the season; and as he gave them to me, he said, "There,



Miss Esther, you will like them, for they's honest; God growed them in the outlet."

We established a missionary society among them, and many a penny, previously devoted to fire.crackers and the like, now found its way down the red chimney of our savings-bank. Poor Bill Jones bad less to give than any of the boys, and this, I plainly saw, troubled him a great deal. He had stopped" dancing “Jim Crow," first on Sabbath, and of late on week-days; and this being his chief source of revenue, his spare pennies were few and far between.

One day, with a bright face, he asked me “if it were not right to do good on Sundays.” Of course I replied “ Yes ;” and then," if it was wrong to take money for doing good on Sundays." This was a nice distinction, one which I supposed him not capable of understanding, should I attempt it; so I simply said, “No, I thin) not.” Though feeling rather curious, I had no oppor tunity just then of asking as to these pious earnings

. Next Sabbath the teachers were requested to remain s moment. A gentleman arose, not a member of our school, saying that a few hours since he had witnessed : scene which had so touched his heart that he could not forbear cheering us with the glad tidings. Passing the “Harrison House,” he noticed that the invariable group of Sunday-noon loungers had deserted their post. Just then his ear was caught by a clear, melodious voice singing. It seemed to come from the bar-room. Yes, as he drew near, from the open windows of that den of pollution floated out on the summer air the words—

“Watchman, tell us of the night,

What the signs of promise are.” He stepped upon the low platform and looked in. Ons table sat a Negro boy. About the room were hard-faced young men, and those older, on whose bloated feature: intemperance bad set its livid brand. But they were si listening. The singer finished the last verse and the began again. This time he sang,

Jesus, lover of my soul."

THE LORD'S PRAYER ILLUSTRATED. 119 My own eyes were dimmed, said the gentleman, as he came to the lines

“ Vile and full of sin I am,

Thou art full of grace and truth.” It seemed as if for a moment an angel's wing brushed away the shadow from those darkened hearts, and tears moistened cheeks long unused to weep. The singing stopped. “Go on, go on, we will pay you more," said one and another. “I cannot now," answered the boy ; “it is time for Sunday school, but I will sing again next Sunday if you'll come.” And as he put into his pocket the coppers that were handed to him, he said :

“I wouldn't take these, only I am going to send them to the heathen ; I'll sing you the hymn—it is very beautiful-about Greenland's icy mountains ;' and humming it to himself, “ Bill Jones” left the bar-room.

Oh that we had many more Bill Joneses in our Sabbath schools!


Our Father

By right of creation,
By bountiful provision,
By gracious adoption;

Who art in Heaven

The throne of thy glory,
The portion of thy children,
The temple of thy angels ;

Hallowed be thy Name

By the thoughts of our hearts,
By the words of our lips,
By the works of our hands,



Thy kingdom come

Of Providence to defend us,
Of grace to refine us,

Of glory to crown us.
Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven-

Toward us without resistance,
By us without compulsion,
Universally without exception,

Eternally without declension.
Give us this day our daily bread-

Of necessity for our bodies,

Of eternal life for our souls. And forgive us our trespasses

Against the commands of thy law,

Against the grace of thy gospel ;
As we forgive them that trespass against us-

By defaming our characters,
By embezzling our property,

By abusing our persons. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil

Of overwhelming afflictions,
Of worldly enticements,
Of Satan's devices,
Of error's seductions,

Of sinful affections ;
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for

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Thy kingdom governs all,
Thy power subdues all,
Thy glory is above all.


As it is in thy purposes,
So it is in thy promises,
So be it in our prayers,
So it shall be to thy praise.

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