THE OLD NEGRO AND HIS BIBLE. I DON'T know what others may think of this little picture, but I like it. It teaches me a lesson, and it reproves me. How often have I neglected my Bible-only read it when quite convenient. Many a time preferred the newspaper, or a story-book, to it; and very seldom have I put myself to any trouble in order to find time, or make time, for reading it. Not so with poor old Tom. He "prefers it to his necessary food"- -as the Bible itself says. Hidden away in a corner of the bell-house, he hastens off to it at

dinner-time, when others lie down to rest and sleep, and, sitting down upon the ground, he eagerly spells his way through a whole chapter before the bell summons him back to his toil. To-day poor Tom has quite a treat; he has managed to prevail upon a fellow-slave to come along with him, and now he reads to him, as best he can, the story of a Saviour's love. Perhaps this may be the most useful hour he ever spent at the bell-house, if God should make him the means of leading this neighbour to the Cross. At any rate, the time is well spent ; whether that man "miss it at last" or not, Tom is doing what he can, and his Master will not allow him to lose his reward.

I say, again, this practice of a poor slave puts me to shame. I, who can read so easy, reading my Bible so seldom; Tom, who can only spell his way through a chapter, reading it and loving it so much.

Reader, what do you say to this? Does your conscience also accuse you? or are you able to say with the Psalmist, "Thy word is very pure, therefore thy servant loveth it." "I rejoice at thy word as one that findeth great spoil." There was once a London tradesman, named Harris, who could repeat these texts with all his heart. At one time his sight began to fail, and he could not see to read a common Bible, so he employed a man to write out the whole of the Testament, except the Revelation, and also the whole of the Psalms, with white ink on black paper, in letters an inch long, so that he might still be able to peruse the blessed book for himself.

CHEAP BIBLES.

A BIBLE for sixpence! What would our forefathers have thought of this? Often they could not get Bibles at all, never without paying a great deal for them, often much more than a poor man could afford.

Not quite fifty years ago, a young man in Ireland, originally a Roman Catholic, was bound apprentice to a

linen-weaver. He found a New Testament lying neglected in his master's house, and, being able to read, it became the companion of his leisure hours. When his apprenticeship was finished, he proposed going to see his brother in Castlebar, county of Mayo, and he begged of his master to give him the Testament as a reward for his faithful services.

The man knew that the poor lad loved the book, and therefore he determined to drive a hard bargain. So the only terms on which he would consent to part with it were, that the youth should return and serve him for another six months. The young man at first declined the offer, as he thought he might get a copy on easier terms at Castlebar. But alas! he could not find a copy to purchase in all the town. This was in the year 1811. The Testament had become to him " more than his necessary food;" he could not live without it; so he returned to his greedy, godless master, and laboured for a whole half-year for this single copy of the New Testament.

During the days of persecution, when Popery was the established religion of England, the Bible was not only scarce, but it was prohibited altogether. The Bible is not a popish book, and therefore popery hates it, and has always tried to keep it from the people. In the reign of James II., a good man copied out the whole Bible in short-hand for his own use, being afraid that, if popery were re-established, they might take his printed copy from him.

At one time, a poor Irish peasant, in the county of Cork, went to a gentleman who had a copy of the New Testament in the Irish language, and begged to see it. He then asked if he might borrow it, as he wanted to take a copy of it. The gentleman said, he could not

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"I HAVE MISSED IT AT LAST."

obtain another copy, and was therefore afraid to trust it away from his house. "But," said the gentleman, “if I did allow you, where would you get the paper ?" "I will buy it." “And the pens and ink ?” “I will buy them.” "Where will you find a place ?" "If your honour will allow me your hall, I will come after I have done my work in the day, and copy it by bits of time in the evening." The gentleman was so struck with the poor man's zeal and love for the Bible, that he gave him the use of the hall and a light, in order to take a copy. The man was firm to his purpose, and although not a fast writer, he persevered, and at length produced a complete copy of the Testament written by his own hands. Some years afterwards, a printed copy was given to him in exchange, and the written one was given to the President of the British and Foreign Bible Society,—a Society which has since done so much to give the Bible to the world.

"I HAVE MISSED IT AT LAST.” A FEW months ago, in New York, a physician called upon a young man who was ill. He sat for a little by the bedside, examining his patient, and then he honestly told him the sad intelligence that he had but a very short time to live. The young man was astonished; he did not expect it would come to that so soon. He forgot that death comes "in such an hour as ye think not." At length he looked up in the face of the doctor, and with a most despairing countenance repeated the expression, "I have missed it at last."

"What have you missed ?" inquired the tenderhearted, sympathising physician.

"I HAVE MISSED IT AT LAST."

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"I have missed it-at last," again the young man repeated.

The doctor, not in the least comprehending what the poor young man meant, said "My dear young man, will you be so good as to tell me what you

instantly interrupted, saying,

?” _He

"Oh! doctor, it is a sad story-a sad-sad story that

I have to tell. But I have missed it."

"Missed what ?"

"Doctor, I have missed the salvation of my soul."

"Oh! say not so. the thief on the cross ?"

"Yes, I remember the thief on the cross. And I remember that he never said to the Holy Spirit-Go thy way. But I did. And now he is saying to me-Go your way." He lay gasping awhile, and looking up with a vacant, staring eye, he said-"I was awakened and was anxious about my soul a little time ago. But I did not want religion then. Something seemed to say to meDon't put it off-make sure of salvation. I said to myself, I will postpone it. I knew I ought not to do it. I knew I was a great sinner and needed a Saviour. I resolved, however, to dismiss the subject for the present. Yet I could not get my own consent to do it, until I had promised that I would take it up again, at a time not remote and more favourable. I bargained away, insulted and grieved away, the Holy Spirit. I never thought of coming to this. I meant to have religion, and make my salvation sure. And now I have missed it-at last." "You remember," said the doctor, "that there were some who came at the eleventh hour."

My eleventh hour," he rejoined, "was when I had that call of the Spirit. I have had none since-shall not have. I am given over to be lost."