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PIETY BEGINS AT HOME.

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“Don't, dear,” said little Georgey to his elder brother, who shook the table at which he was building, with his shoulder. Robert idle and perverse, and on this gentle request, he only shook the table again, and George's castle fell to the ground.

Poor little child, how he cried, and seemed as if nothing could make amends for an injury so great. Yet Robert was, at that very time, going without butter to save money for shoes for a poor lad. He had read in the Bible, "Inasmuch as ye did it not to the least of these my brethren ye did it not to me." Why could he not be tender and kind to that little lamb whom God had placed under his

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care? Why did he not remember how like he was to the Pharisees, who ought to have done the good deeds they did, but not have left the others undone?

Rosa has a collecting-card for the missionary society, and the dear little girl has been going through the cold bleak rain to fill it up; yet when her mamma asked her to fetch her bonnet, Rosa hesitated and looked cross, and did not go until her mother rose to fetch it herself.

Susan sits all the evening sewing for a poor little baby. Her heart is in her work, and she does not heed the time, and when mamma says, "Susan, my love, go to bed," the little girl pouts and cries, and does not bear the trial as she ought. These interruptions and vexations are the trials of little children, and which often cause them great annoyance, but they must remember that they should seek for grace to bear them properly, and to resist the temptation to evil. They should remember also, that "even a child is known by his doings,” and that little children may glorify that dear Saviour whose precious lambs they desire to be, and who, to show his deep and tender love, has taken them up in his arms and blessed them.-Olive Leaf.

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POETRY-THERE'S WORK ENOUGH TO DO.

SHE LOVED HER SABBATH-SCHOOL.

"I don't know, ma'am," she replied, "unless it was because I came to school without my breakfast this morning."

"Without your breakfast, child!" said the teacher. "But why did you come without your breakfast?"

WHO loved her Sabbath-school? Not an idle girl, who wasted the early morning hours in bed, and came down stairs last Sabbath, yawning and simpering, as she took her seat at the breakfast table. "It's too late to go to Sabbath-school now, and I am glad of it, for I don't care about going to-day." That girl did not love the Sabbath-hearted child, "and I came without school. But Mary V- —, a little it, because I was afraid of being too East Indian girl, did. She fainted one late!" morning at her Sabbath-school; when she recovered, her teacher said :— "What made you faint, my dear?"

"My breakfast was not ready in time, ma'am," replied the simple

That girl loved the Sabbath-school. Don't you think so, reader?-Ameri can S. S. Visitor.

Poetry.

THERE'S WORK ENOUGH TO DO.

The blackbird early leaves its rest,
To meet the smiling morn,
And gather fragments for its nest
From upland, wood, and lawn.
The busy bee that wings its way
'Mid sweets of varied hue,

And every flower would seem to say-
"There's work enough to do."
The cowslip and the spreading vine,
The daisy in the grass,
The snow-drop and the eglantine
Preach sermons as we pass.
The ant, within its cavern deep,
Would bid us labour too,
And writes upon his tiny heap-
"There's work enough to do.'
The planets, at their Maker's will,
Move onward in their ears,
For nature's will is never still-
Progressive as the stars!
The leaves that flutter in the air,
And summer breezes woo,

One solemn truth to man declare

"There's work enough to do."

Who then can sleep when all around
Is active, fresh, and free!
Shall man-creation's lord-be found
Less busy than the bee?

Our courts and alleys are the field,

If men would search them through,
That best of sweets of labour yield,
And "there's enough to do."

To have a heart for those who weep,
The sottish drunkard win;

To rescue all the children, deep
In ignorance and sin;

To help the poor, the hungry feed,
To give them coat and shoe;

To see that all can write and read-
"Is work enough to do."

The time is short-the world is wide,
And much has to be done;

This wondrous earth and all its pride

Will vanish with the sun!

The moments fly on lightning wings,
And life's uncertain, too;

We've none to waste on foolish things-
"There's work enough to do."

Price 6d. per doz. or 3s. 6d. per 100; 20 copies sent free by post for 10d., paid in advance. Published by GALL & INGLIS, 6 George Street, Edinburgh. HOULSTON & WRIGHT, London.

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A DIAMOND FROM THE DUST OF INDIA.

A MISSIONARY was sitting in the ver- ary sat, and stopped just before him. andah one day, when he observed a The boy began to make signs that he dog enter the open gate, followed by was hungry. The missionary spoke a boy holding a string, which was tied to him, and asked who he was, where around the dog's neck. The dog led he lived, and what he wanted. The the boy right up to where the mission- boy said he was blind, that he lived June 1859.

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A DIAMOND FROM THE DUST OF INDIA.

with his grandmother, and that he was the little boy lying on a mat, with a

very hungry. After the missionary satisfied himself that he was really blind, he gave him a small piece of money to buy something to eat. He then determined to go and see where the boy lived, and talk with him and his grandmother about Jesus, and the way of salvation.

The missionary found that he lived in a deep hole in the ground. The top of it was covered over with bushes, to make a sort of roof to keep out the hot sun. Into this hole the missionary descended, and there he saw the blind boy's old grandmother. The missionary talked with her about her soul, and the way of salvation, and begged her to let him take her little grandson and put him to school.

few rags for a pillow. And oh! how the little boy was rejoiced to hear the pleasant voice of the good missionary! Even the dog whined and wagged his tail, as if he knew his master's friend had come. The little boy was very sick. He said that his grandmother had taken him from the school very soon after the missionary had left home, and would not suffer him to go back any more; and now he was sick and couldn't go. The missionary saw that the little boy would soon die. He talked with him about his soul, and about his preparation for death, and about Jesus, and about heaven. The missionary went to see the little boy several times before he died. length he came one day, just in time The little boy was delighted with to hear the child faintly whisper of the school. Every day his faithful his faith in Jesus, and then to see dog led him carefully and safely to the him die. The missionary wept, fell school-house, and waited outside until on his knees, and thanked God for he was ready to go home again. The his mercy to the poor little blind boy, missionary visited the school very often, in preparing him for death, and then and was glad to find the boy so apt a taking him to heaven. He also prayed scholar, and so fond of going to school. for the old grandmother, that she too By-and-by, the missionary was obliged might become a Christian. And then to leave home, and be absent several he thanked God that he, an unworthy months. On his return he went to missionary, had been permitted to the school-room, but the little blind snatch such a diamond from the dust boy was not there. He then went to of India to sparkle in the Redeemer's his grandmother's to find him, and on crown.-Pictures of Truth. going down into the hole, he there saw

At

LEANDRO YOPAR, THE EMANCIPATED SLAVE.

LEANDRO YOPAR, THE EMANCIPATED SLAVE.

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very amiable lady. This lady taught me all the religion which is practised in Cuba: she sent me to school at the age of six, where I read the Catechism and the "Children's Friend," and learnt to reckon.

I continued going to school till I was twelve, when my mistress had me learn the business of a mason, which I was doing till I was nineteen, in order to get my daily bread. Then I worked for her till I was twentythree, when the said lady became ill, and she gave Leandro his liberty; soon after which she died-in 1853. But before her death she impressed on him the duty of ever following her instructions to love God above all things, and that he should always do good, and give as much alms as he

IN August 1855 there reached England from Cuba a group of Yoruba people, men, women, and children, forty-eight in number. They had been slaves in that island, but with astonishing perseverance had worked out the price of their redemption, and were returning to their fatherland. They excited much interest in Plymouth, and were visited by the Rev. H. Townsend, one of the missionaries from Abbeokuta, who was then in England. They sailed in the September steamer for the West Coast of Africa, and tidings have since reached us of their safe arrival. One, however, Leandro Yopar, was left behind. He had lost himself in the streets of London. He was subsequently found at Southampton, and was transferred to the care of a Chris-possibly could, that God might be tian lady in the neighbourhood of Plymouth, under whose superintendence he received instruction in the Holy Scriptures and in the English language. He has since returned to Africa.

While in England he wrote a little narrative of himself in Negro-Spanish, of which the following is a summary:

I, Leandro Bardomero Yopar, on the 27th of February 1830, was born the slave of Doña Tomasa Junco, a

with him: and Leandro complied with this, and took it to heart, because he knew that it was all intended for his good. In a little while he placed himself with his parents, in order to go to England, to pass over to Africa; and he said to them, "We have never been on the sea, and we know nothing about it." However, they went and therefore he went also.

All our party embarked, and at length reached London, which place

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