And thou that watchest the wilder storms
That darken on life's deep tide,
And fain the voyagers perill'd there
To a haven of rest would guide,
In firm endurance and patient trust,
Unmoved in thy work abide.

Thou may'st not reckon the spirits held
By thy love from the grasp of sin,

Nor tell the wand'rers a word could guide,
Or a bright example win;

But they all are counted, and surely mark'd,
The records of heaven within.

So when thou hearest the angel choir
Make melody clear and strong,

To thee the sweetest of all the tones

That blend in the thrilling song,

Will be breathed by the souls that thy light preserved,
In thy vigil so lone and long.

H. F.

THE SCHOOLS OF CONNEMARA.

[We shall be very glad if the following touching appeal produces its desired and deserved effect.-ED.]

"AND how are you getting on with the clothing for the Irish schools ?" I asked a relative, with whom I was discussing all such subjects of mutual interest as occurred to us on a first meeting after a separation of some months.

Oh, H——!” she answered, "you must all work as hard as you can, and interest as many people as possible in the schools, for they are likely to want aid even more than during last winter."

Now, I had a painful recollection that a certain box of clothing, which we had dispatched to Achill

last winter, was acknowledged by a letter filled with such deep gratitude, that, to use the words of the poet, it "left me mourning," to think how sad must have been the distress from which such thanks had been elicited by what was, after all, an inadequate supply. I remembered, also, other letters speaking of a scarcity of food among the poor that amounted to little less than actual famine; and coupling these recollections with what I had just heard, the thought arose, "If things were so bad last year, what must we expect now, when complaints of the high price of food, and the scarcity of money, are so prevalent in every quarter ?"

That something must be done to avert the horrors of cold and starvation from our poor little children was very evident; and it was equally clear that that which could be done by ourselves was the first thing to be done; so, in as short a time as possible, to work went our home-party on coarse flannel, holland, prints, calico, linsey-woolsey, &c., &c., cutting, fixing, and stitching most merrily, and even transforming decidedly shabby gowns into very tidy frocks, in the ardour of our exertions.

Next we enlisted such friends as were willing to help us in the same cause, and then, like Alexander sighing for another world to conquer, asked, “Can nothing be done beyond our own little sphere?"

This question brought to my mind a large circle of young friends, with whom (though personally unknown to them) I had been in frequent communication; and I determined to ask the editor of the YOUTH'S MAGAZINE to permit me to tell the story of my little suffering children in his pages.

The schools of which we are speaking are supported by the Society for Irish Church Missions, the most destitute of them being in the western part of Ireland, and especially in the wild and mountainous district of Connemara. The funds of the society are,

however, applied solely to the purpose of spiritual instruction, and temporal relief is in no case afforded from them. Labouring in such a field, however, it is impossible but cases, in which such assistance is urgently needed, must very frequently arise, and to meet these the liberality of individuals has been extended. The utter destitution of the helpless orphans left by the famine of 1847, so touched the hearts of the Rev. A. Dallas and another clergyman, who witnessed it, that they never rested till they had established the germ of what is now a nursery, where a large number of such orphans are fed and sheltered. Of this institution a very interesting account will be found in a little book called the "Records of the Connemara Orphans' Nursery," and published by Nisbet and Co. The children in this refuge are under the age of eleven years; thirteen others, who are older, have been placed under the care of the Rev. W. Ashe, of Annaghdown.

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This gentleman, however, writes as follows:do not think, under existing circumstances, we should be justified in keeping the Orphanage much longer. I dread to look forward to another winter as severe, it may be, as the last, while the children are so badly prepared to meet its rigour. They cannot do so without clothes and food; and some of them are now (in October, 1855) so badly off for the former, that I was obliged last Sabbath to tell four little girls to remain away from church, whilst we are considerably in advance of the funds coming in to meet the food account. It grieves me not a little to think of parting with the children, and I fondly hope we may not be driven to such an alternative. I tremble to think that the world at large, or at least the workhouse, may soon be the only refuge of those who have, by their good conduct, endeared themselves to me."

Such are the prospects of the children we considered as comparatively provided for; but there are

in the daily school some thousands whose destitution is scarcely less than that from which these orphans are at present relieved. For a long time one meal of stirabout was given daily to all the children in the schools; but it has been found impossible to continue this in the present state of the funds, and individual cases of want or persecution are all that can be relieved, and even then do not all receive help. The schoolmistress of Glan wrote thus last winter:-"The children are striving to attend school. It is very hard for them; they are in such distress. I most anxiously wish some way could be opened to get food for them; there are many very interesting children, and it is shocking to see them in such destitution." Again she writes:-"There are six cases of very destitute children here; three are orphans; all are frequently obliged to pass twenty-four hours without food of any kind."

Miss Mackay wrote thus from Oughterard, in January last:- "Our evening school gets on very well. Up to the last month the girls assembled in the schoolroom, and worked, while we either read aloud, or all sang together. Sometimes Mr. Tait would come in and talk; but since the weather has been so severe, the poor things, without shawl, bonnet, or shoes, could not well come so far, so I go off to each cabin in turn, and bring my candles with me, and those living near follow; they all help the fire with turf. It is a funny sight, this cabin school; but when the weather is milder, we will return to the schoolroom."

I think, while my readers smile at the idea of a circulating schoolmistress, carrying her own candles, and gathering her scholars by the way, to sit by a turf fire, in a smoky cabin, they will feel disposed to do what they can to assist this devoted woman, especially when they read another extract from her letter, showing the darker side of the picture :-"If any of

the children are ill, it is not to be wondered at, the weather so severe, and provisions so dear, they can only allow themselves turnips, and many of them have these only once a day. The poor things are dreadfully worn with dysentery and cold."

From many similar documents I select one of peculiar interest, as having been addressed to the late lamented Mrs. D'Arcy, not long before her death. Though of older date than the former, it describes the state of things now as truly as when written; it is from the schoolmistress at Cliefden," It was very distressing to see all the little children gather round me, and I having nothing to give them. I asked what they would do, and some said, 'We will pray to God all night, and then we will have plenty in the morning.' Some were crying, and one very smart little boy said, 'Oh! what's the use of ye all crying; can't ye cry the right way, if ye cry at all? I want them to cry to God, Miss.' I asked him, could he tell me of any one who cried to God? and he repeated Psalm xviii. 6, ‘In my distress I called upon the Lord.'”

Another letter from the same school, dated last December, gives a very similar account. At that time two meals were given daily to the orphans only; and when the mistress expressed her inability to relieve the rest of the flock, who were crying from hunger, one dear little orphan said, "I'll tell you what we will do, we 'll all make do with what we have had to-day, and give the other ration to those that have none."

I cannot add a word to increase the effect of these extracts. The noble example of the little creature, who gave so willingly the cup of stirabout, which formed the half of her insufficient daily subsistence, will, I think, do more to excite charity than the most laboured appeal. So I pass on to show how much good these schools are effecting. The children act as little missionaries, both in their own families, and among their

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