anything more about either the old man or the young one, and felt grieved about it. "We must try in the morning to find the old man," he said to his companions, and was just going to rest, when the young man in question came again. He said his grandfather was greatly delighted with the books, but blamed him for not inviting the teachers to his house, and had sent him to bring them to him if he could. This was just what they wanted—so stepping ashore and following their guide, they made their way to the centre of the town, where they found the old man's house; and here a most interesting scene was witnessed. In the verandah of the house, lighted by only one dim lamp, sat a venerable blind old man, his head as white as snow, and surrounded by a few friends and neighbours. The books lay at his side, and taking Mr. Kincaid's hand, he most feelingly thanked both Dr. Judson and him for the great benefit he had derived from them. He referred to his great age as a proof he could not long be here, and pointing to his white locks, he called them "the flag of death." He said, though the eyes of his body were dark, the eyes of his understanding were open, and he praised God for it.

The Missionary preached both to him and his friends the glorious Gospel, and left them, after a long conversation, blessing God for the gracious way in which he had brought to light this fruit of his people's labours.

And so, dear children, should we ;-and from this interesting story gather strong encouragement for our own efforts in God's cause. "Be not weary

well-doing, for in due time ye shall reap if ye

not."

in

faint

THE EARNEST LISTENER.

A PIOUS clergyman had a careless and idle son, who left his home, went on board a vessel, and sailed to a foreign land. His sorrowful parents could only pray for him, and send him good advice when they wrote to him. The ship which contained their boy reached a distant port, and was there waiting to take in a fresh cargo, when the sailors went on shore and brought back with them a little native boy, who could play some curious kinds of music. He amused them for a long time, but at last he said, "You must now take me on shore." The sailors told him that he must not go yet. Oh, indeed I cannot stay any longer," replied the little black boy, "and I will tell you why. A kind Christian Missionary has come near the village where I live. From him I have learned all I know about Jesus Christ, in whom I now wish to believe. This is about the hour when he meets us under the shade of a tree, to tell us more; I want to go to hear him." The sailors were quite overcome by the boy's cries, and at once rowed him ashore.

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The clergyman's thoughtless son was struck with the words of the little heathen boy. He felt condemned by them. "Here am I," he said to himself, "the son of a minister in England, knowing far more about Jesus Christ than that poor boy, and yet caring far less about him! That little fellow is now earnestly listening to the word of life, while I am living quite careless about it!" In great distress of mind he retired that night to his hammock; but his pious father's instructions came back to his thoughts, and reminded him how he might seek and find that salvation which he so much needed. He became a real Christian; and great was the joy of his English home when the happy tidings reached his parents.

Are there none of our young readers to whom the desire of this heathen boy, to hear more of Christ, should come with equal force? With so many more ways than he had of knowing the true God, and Jesus Christ his Son, how few children in our own land show half his eager desire for religious knowledge, or are so sincerely desirous to believe in the Saviour!

・0

NATIVES OF CEYLON.

HERE you have a Singhalese gentleman taking a walk, and a maid-servant standing to receive the

orders of her mistress. For interesting accounts of the island and its people, see the Juvenile Missionary Herald for May last, also for 1852, p. 166. The pictures in those places, as well as here, are copied from dressed-up dolls, very ingeniously though somewhat stiffly made by the natives themselves, to represent their country-people, and brought to England by Mrs. Davies.

"It is almost time for us to be thinking of our missionary beds," said a little girl to her brother, turning from the open window into which the bright April sun was cheerily shining.

“I am thinking so too," he answered, not looking of his work: for he was busy trying to mend a Inte Loe.

• Missionary-beds; what were these? Feather-beds. straw-beds, mattresses?" So thought a gentlemen who sat in the room reading a newspaper, and yet heard what the children said. "Missionary beds! Is that beds for missionaries?" At last he asked the children what they meant.

"Why, garden-beds," briskly answered the Ettle boy, dropping his hoe and looking earnestly up. “My father gives us children a bed in the garden, to plant and take care of, and do every thing ourselves. Then we sell what grows, and so earn our missionary money. My bed is asparagus, and my father and uncle John bought it all. Jane's is a bed of herbs, and last year she sold almost all her sage to the apothecary. We like to be gardeners first-rate: mother was afraid that we should not hold out, but we did; for we like to be doing what is really something.”

There is a great deal of meaning in this child's remark. Play does not always satisfy children. How often they hang around, and ask again and again, "What shall I do?" which means a great deal more than it seems to. The fact is, they like to be doing, a part of the time at least, "what is really something ;" that is, exercising their mind, limbs, taste, ingenuity, for an object of sufficient dignity and importance to make them ashamed of giving it up, and to reward them for persevering.

Now is the time when gardens are in their beauty; and what a pleasant thing it is to have a garden! How many children have missionary beds? It is a very nice way to earn their money for the Lord's blessed work; for children now-a-days may not only