WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A WAY."

Bengal after a heavy fall of rain, when
the morning sun shed his rays upon
the ground? They replied, "Great
vapours." It was easy now to shew
them that, just as the hot vapours
rising from the water struck against
the cold lid, and were by the cold
brought back again into their former
state of water, and so fell in drops,
in like manner, the hot vapours rising
from the earth met with the cold air
in the sky, and were brought back

66

63

again to water, and fell in showers of rain. 'This is the theory," said the missionary, "which I learnt from my Gooro in Scotland."

It carried conviction with it. And the boys said, "What, then, must become of our Shastra? it cannot be right.” Thus, you see, how correct knowledge about anything prepares the way for the downfall of these false Shastras.

"WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A WAY.”

DID you ever see a tract called "The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain?" It tells how the children of this shepherd used to go and gather all the wool that the sheep left on the furze bushes, and kept it very carefully till they had a great deal, and then sold it to get some money for their father and mother.

There was a missionary meeting at another place in the country, and some little boys and girls were there. A clergyman spoke to them, and told them how the other children had got money by the sheep's wool, and asked them whether they could not find out a way to get some money for the Missionary Sietocy. The children went away, and talked to each other about it. They said, "We have no sheep on our common, and

we cannot get any wool; but there are plenty of geese. We will look about every day for goose quills." So every day they picked up all they could find and put them into a bag; and before the missionary meeting came again they sold the goose quills, and took 16s. 6d. to the meeting as their gift to the Missionary Society.

A gentleman told all this to some
more children at another missionary
meeting in London. A poor little girl
was there who thought to herself, I
am very poor: I have no money,
and there are no sheep-no geese
here: what can I do?
At length
she thought of a way to get some
money.
What could it be? Guess.

It was with old bones!
So every
morning she got up very early, be-
fore other people were up, and went

64

POETRY-LABOUR FOR CHRIST.

about the squares, and the cold, lonely, | on her death-bed, she sent for her dirty streets, to pick up bones. It was Sunday-school teacher, and said, not a pleasant thing to do; and when she passed the bakers' shops as she went home, and smelt the nice hot rolls, perhaps she often wished for one, for she was very poor, and very hungry. But she loved the Lord Jesus, and felt pleased to deny herself for His sake; and she wished the poor heathen children to be taught to love Him too. So when she sold the bones she never spent the money, but kept it in a bag till she had 13s. 4d.

The time for the missionary meeting came round; but the little girl was not there. She was at a larger and happier meeting than any in this world. When she was very ill and

"Please to give this money for me to the Secretary of the Missionary Society, and tell Mr Thompson that I did not forget what he said at the meeting." So after her death the little bag was taken from under her pillow, and shewn at the missionary meeting; and perhaps the children there would remember it better than if the little girl had lived to take it herself.

This dear child is now in heaven: she sees her Redeemer face to face : perhaps she has met some little black children there also. Do you think she is sorry now that she took so much pains to please her Saviour ?-The Children's Friend.

Poetry.

LABOUR FOR CHRIST.

"I know thy works, and labour, and patience.”—Rev. iii

Go, labour on! spend and be spent-
Thy joy to do thy Father's will:

It is the way the Master went:
Should not His servants tread it still?

Go, labour on! 'tis not for nought:

Losses for Christ are heavenly gain! Man may despise, and praise thee not; The Master's praises thou 'lt obtain ! Go, labour on! it is enough

If Jesus praise thee, if He deign To notice e'en thy willing mind:

No toil for Him shall be in vain.

Go, labour on! hands may be weak,

Knees may be faint, the soul cast down;

Yet falter not-the prize is near:
He promises a heavenly crown!

Go, labour on,-while it is day,

The long, dark night is hastening on; Oh, speed thy work, shake off thy sloth; For it is thus that souls are won!

See thousands dying at your side

Your brethren, kindred, friends at home; See millions perishing afar:

Haste, brethren, to their rescue come!

Toil on, toil on; thou soon shalt find
For labour, rest-for exile, home;

Soon shalt thou hear the Bridegroom's voice,
The midnight peal, "Behold, I come."

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.

that the next feeling would be indig- | She is not teaching him "The Lord's my shepherd;" she is teaching him to bow down before a wooden thing, made by some other poor idolater.

nation at the dishonour done to God. Our Missionaries are greatly pained by seeing these sights continually. A great part of the sorrow, which they so often experience in their work, results from this cause; so that, we doubt not, "rivers of waters" at times run down their eyes on account of it.

China is one of the high places of the missionary field; it is not only without the knowledge of God, but it lies buried under the vile and silly superstitions of thousands of years. It has a strange and difficult language. No common gifts, and no common grace, are needful for a missionary in China.

O China! the kingdom of God is not gilt paper, nor the sounding of gongs, nor the rhyming over of words; but, through Christ Jesus, righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.

The Rev. R. Clark and Colonel Martin mention, in their journals, a case which occurred whilst they were travelling in the valley of Kashmir, in Northern India. They had obtained some idols and other curiosities, which had been placed in a bag, for the convenience of carrying. Having reached the end of their day's journey, the bag was emptied upon a table. One of the native servants who was present, seeing a favourite idol amongst the lumber, immediately began to offer pújah—that is, worship-to it. In all other respects this poor idolater was pro

Here is a family worshipping an idol; a miserable block of wood, as much like a beast as a man. They are offering gifts. Some are on the table or altar, and one is held up by a woman. See that mother, teaching the little boy to kneel, and put his hands together, and pray! It re-bably a sensible man; but what must minds us of what we once saw in Strasburg cathedral,-a mother lifting up a little one to the font of holy water, that it might dip its finger, and go through the antics of Popery. Dear boys and girls, who have godly fathers and mothers, pity and pray for that Chinese mother and child. What is she doing?

our Missionary friends have thought
of him, after seeing him pray to the
little wooden figure-to the shabby-
looking little doll! How earnestly
would such a sight urge them to pray
that God would "
open their blind
eyes, and turn them from darkness to
light, and from the power of Satan
unto God!"

FRENCH PRIESTS IN POLYNESIA.

67

HOW TO BE HAPPY.

And what was the secret?

is the

She

EVERYBODY in the world would like Months of severe suffering had she to be happy, but few, very few of endured; and still she lingered on, the persons we meet with are really sometimes in such an agony as So. Why is this? Because they made those who loved her best, feel are constantly making mistakes on that it would be a relief to see her this subject, and are wasting their die. Yet when I left the room this lives in looking for this blessing was my remark, "Cwhere it can never be found. Ihappiest person I know." think I hear a little girl I know saying, "Oh, if I were rich, and had always plenty to eat, and pretty things to wear, I am sure I should be very happy." And another says, "I do not care about being rich, but I wish I was well; if I could run about like other children, and was strong again, then I should be happy."

"But you have a kind mother to take care of you, and nurse you," sighs an orphan child; "but my parents are dead. If they would but come back again, I should care for nothing else, I should be quite happy."

Ah, dear children, you would find, if you had these things, that there was something wanting still before you could say you were happy. Not long ago, I was called to visit an old scholar of mine on her death-bed.

shall tell you herself. I had not seen her for some years till the occasion of which I am speaking, and she asked me, "Have you a class now?"

"Yes," I replied, "a large one; I hope to meet them to-morrow." "I wish I could see them," she said, earnestly.

"And if you could," I rejoined, "what would you say to them?"

"I would tell them," was her answer, given with the brightest of smiles, "I would tell them how happy it would make them to seek the Lord early."

Yes, dear children, this is the way to be happy to seek the Lord who "loved you, and gave Himself for you;" to seek Him as your Saviour, your Friend, your Guide.

FRENCH PRIESTS IN POLYNESIA.

NEW CALEDONIA is one of the largest | being more than 300 miles long, and of the Western Polynesian Islands, 70 or 80 miles broad. It was first