16 POETRY-THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. mother, resolved to start in search of the child; and instead of waiting to pray in the cottage, to pray while they went on their search, as they best could. They were to take different tracks. They agreed that the man who should first find traces of the lost one should fire his gun, that so the rest might most speedily be made aware that the lost was found, and the mother might catch the intelligence by the same means. Hour after hour passed. One after another returned without having come on the track of the missing one. "We cannot find her," was the sad report brought in by one returning messenger after another. It was now near daylight, when suddenly the mother's ear caught the distant report of a gun. Soon all heard it as well as the quick ear of the joyful mother; and in a short time the lost child was restored to the mother's arms, amid the congratulations and shouts of the whole company of anxious searchers. Now, all there rejoiced together. It was not the mother only; it was not only the one particular person who lighted upon the track of the missing child; they all rejoiced together. It is thus when a soul is saved in our Sabbath-schools. One scholar saved! When that report is made, all the teachers of the school are happy, like the people of the cottage we have told you of. Dear young friends, do you not think that missionary intelligence is very like the sound of the gun in that forest? That gun told of a lost one found; so does the missionary letter that sends home the news of a Jew or Jewess, of a heathen man or woman, of any child in any far country, awakened by the Holy Ghost, and brought to Jesus. Then surely every such piece of missionary intelligence should make you very happy, happy in a peculiar way; for such joy over souls is like the joy of angels, and of Christ Himself.— Children's Missionary Record. Poetry. THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. I KNOW my end must surely come, To-night, to-morrow, nay, or now. This living body may be dead. Lord Jesus, let me daily die,* And at the last Thy presence give; Then death His utmost power may try, He can but make me truly live: Then welcome my last hour shall be, When, where, or how it pleases thee. S. FRANCK, 1711. * 1 Cor. xv. 31. Price 7d per doz. or 3s. 6d, per 100; 20 copies sent free by post for 10d. paid in advance. blished by GALL & INGLIS, 6 George Street, Edinburgh. HOULSTON & WRIGHT, London. THE LITTLE SCRIPTURE READER. I WILL state one fact relating to a girl, who began to attend the girls'school, two or three years ago, when she was about seven years of age. Her father was a poor Jew, who March 1861. lived partly on the alms which he received, in common with the other poor Jews, from the Rabbis. When he began to send his girl to the school the Rabbis threatened to dis 18 A LETTER FROM THE WEST INDIES. continue his alms unless he ceased to do so. He determined to lose the alms rather than withdraw his child. Although he had no trade, he asked no help for about two years. At length his health completely failed, and when I at last heard of his position, and endeavoured to relieve him, it proved to be too late. His health went on declining; and it soon became evident to every one that he could not live much longer. For six months previous to his death he was observed to shut himself up every day, for an hour or more, with his little girl, after she returned from school. It was not known at the time for what purpose this was done, but it afterwards turned out that on these occasions the child used to read to him the Scriptures. About two or three months ago he died. On his death-bed he called some Rabbis and some Christian men around him, and, raising himself on his bed by a last effort, he said to them, “I have called you, Jews and Christians, around me, to hear my last testimony that I die in the faith of Jesus of Nazareth."-BISHOP GOBAT. A LETTER FROM THE WEST INDIES. You know the people in these islands are of three kinds, the white, the black, and the brown. The brown are the children of white fathers and black mothers. In some of them there are now also a great many people from India, called "Coolies." There are still to be found negroes that are not Creole Negroes, that is, that were not born in these islands, but in the country of their fathers, Africa. Very few, however, of these remain. There was one whose story was very remarkable. He was born in Guinea. The people of Guinea and the people of Ashanti were always fighting; in one of the battles he was taken prisoner, and tied, with a number of other prisoners, who were led in triumph by the King of Ashanti to his capital, and there ordered to be beheaded. He quite expected this; for as you enter the gates of the city you see on each side a pile of human skulls. But it happened that just as they were about to kill him, a slave-dealer appeared, and this man picked him out, with some others, from the unhappy band, and bought him from the king to sell again as a slave. He was dragged to the sea-beach, packed in the hold of a ship with other men and women, A LETTER FROM THE WEST INDIES. suffered all the horrors of a sail across the sea in such a ship, landed in Jamaica, and was sold as a slave for an estate among the mountains. There he long remained an ignorant and wicked heathen man. But Jesus Christ saw him, and pitied him, and sent him salvation. A Mission Chapel was built on the mountain on which he lived, and, led by the example of others, he soon began to be a regular hearer of the Word. In a little while he joined the inquirer's class, and shortly after, it would seem that he was a new man, and was therefore received into the Church. But he was now old in years, and was soon called to die. What a happy deathbed was his! "Of all the sick-beds," says the missionary, "I have attended, I can truly say I never met one like his. Christ filled his thoughts and affections; his talk was all about the goodness of God to him. Shortly before he died, he laid his hand on his heart and said 'I have been a very wild and worthless sinner, but all my trust is in the blood of my Saviour Jesus. I must wait till he think me fit to die, and then I know He'll not forsake my poor soul, but receive it up to Heaven. Thus ended this life of suffering, in a happy death and a glorious eternity. How pleasant it is 19 to think that so many thousands of these poor slaves have at last entered into the rest, and peace, and glory of heaven. You My other story I tell you because there is a lesson in it for you. have often heard how generous the negroes are; just think, there are 36 churches in the West Indies, small and large, connected with the London Missionary Society. These churches raised last year, for the support and spread of the Gospel, £7188, (which is £389 more than was raised for the London Missionary Society by the hundred and fifty Auxiliaries of Yorkshire, and no less than £707 more than was sent from the rich and populous county of Lancaster.) Now this money in the West Indies is obtained by every one giving something, and giving it regularly. But not only do they give, but they like to give that which really costs them something. A missionary in Jamaica often noticed that a very respectable negro woman, dressed in beautiful clothes, came regularly to the market on a Saturday to sell cakes. One day he met her, and asked: Why, your husband is not badly off; why do you come to the market to sell these?" She replied, "I want to earn a little money for myself, that I may not ask my husband for all that I want 20 66 BECHUANA CHILDREN. to give away.” The missionary | Now, boys and girls, I hope you love to collect for Missions; learn from this good negro woman yourself to give, and, if you can, to earn what you give. I am, yours affectionately, BECHUANA CHILDREN. he wishes to do them good, he does A MISSIONARY in South Africa, in a a new kind of wild beast. But, as letter to some children in his own country, thus writes:-"Fancy to yourselves, dear readers, a missionary in a village of the Bechuanas, where white men are scarcely ever seen. All the people crowd around him to examine his person and his dress from head to foot; but the children seem the most surprised at his strange looks. If he walks, immediately they walk behind him and try to step just as he does; and if he speaks to them, instead of answering him, they only repeat his words; if he asks them questions, they ask him questions too. But generally the younger children are very much frightened by the sight of the white stranger; they cry with fear, and cling to the necks of their mothers, who carry them towards the foreigner and try to reconcile them to his strange appearance. Thus the missionary finds that he is looked upon by these savages much as if he were She I will tell you something about the happy end of one of these children. Her name was Sophia. used to go to the school at Carmel. When she was very young, and was much loved by her mother, she was suddenly seized with inflammation of the lungs, of which she died in five days. During her illness she asked one day for something to drink, and felt a little better after it; so she |