frequent intercourse with Lewis and his family. Israel Rose, a man holding a ticket of leave, and formerly a Bristol fisherman, came to me under some concern for the safety of that indulgence; I had a long and earnest conversation with him, and found him able to read a little, and ready to second my efforts in behalf of the family he had connected himself with. Of this man I had occasion to write to the Bishop in the following terms: "Your lordship will learn with interest that Israel Rose has manifested much desire to turn from the unclean and ungodly way in which he has hitherto lived; and it is owing to his instructions chiefly that Betsy, and her sister Mary Ann, are in any degree prepared for the sacrament of baptism. Although an ignorant and illiterate man, a fisherman of Bristol, be has taught them to repeat the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments; and I was pleased to observe that besides an apparently earnest desire to be baptized, they had also as much, or more, acquaintance with the principles of the Christian religion than I could have hoped to find.'

"I availed myself of another means of forwarding my views by taking one of the boys into my service as boatman. In this way he was placed within the reach of direct instruction, and taught to read by my sons, manifesting aptitude and willingness; and advantage was taken of the intercourse thus established, to send down the Creek such articles of clothing as we could spare; in return for which the grateful family sent back oysters, fish, and honey, whenever they had an opportunity.

"In December last I baptized Israel Rose's twin children, and then learned that an elder boy of two years of age had been accidentally hanged in a swing, some weeks before I first became acquainted with them.

"Matters being now advanced to the point thus indicated, and considerable difficulty occurring to prevent their coming up to the church at Wiseman's, I undertook, with the Bishop's approbation, torenew my visit to the Creek for the purpose of completing the work I had begun. With this view I left home in my own boat, accompanied by my son and Lewis's two boys, and with a fair

wind and tide reached the house of Mr. Peat, a few miles beyond my destination. Here I was most hospitably entertained for the night; and here it will be heard with pleasure, that the Reverend E. Rogers comes from Brisbane Water, a distance of twenty-one miles, at stated intervals, for the purpose of holding divine service, and catechizing the children; and to this highly respectable household, and Mr. Rogers' care, I have committed Lewis's family, who promise me they will not neglect any opportunity of joining the congregation. Early the next morning we found them assembled to receive us, attended by their poor neighbours, and joined by their two sons. I proceeded to baptize Elizabeth, John, Thomas, and Mary Ann; and this great object being effected, I solemnized the marriages of John Lewis and Sarah Wallace, and Israel Rose and Elizabeth Lewis respectively.

"The poor people expressed their thankfulness for the service thus rendered them; they accompanied me to the water side, and I took leave of the assembled population of Marra Marra Creek, with feelings of much satisfaction in the successful issue of my exertions in their behalf, and devout thanksgiving to God for his abundant mercy.

"The wind, which had yesterday favoured us from the westward, now blew briskly from the sea, and helped us homeward with delightful weather; our voyage being accomplished by eight o'clock at night.

"PRAISE BE TO GOD."

CHRISTIAN UPRISING.

Sleep to all men has always seemed an image of death; to a Christian it is an image of the death of Christ; aud not only an image, but a token from above, a sign and pledge from the Truth itself, that He died, and died for us. Rising again in the morning is, to Christian people, a word from heaven: a promise and warning, though a silent one, that, by the virtue of Him who is the Resurrection and the Life, we too shall rise again; we shall but sleep in our graves, and never really die.-From Plain Sermons.

LITTLE ANNE.

It would have done your heart good, fair reader, to have seen little Anne Haywood bounding off to school on a spring morning, like a fawn over the hills. She was ten years old, and had a fine clear skin, and a rosy cheek, as clean and healthy as a mother's kindest care and management could make it. She had deep blue eyes and flaxen hair, and was so neat in her dress, and tidy about her feet and finger ends, that she was the very picture of health, peace, and happiness. At half-past eight every morning, except Saturday, she took down her bag and bonnet from a peg in her bedroom, took her books in her hand, gave a kiss to her mother, patted the big dog as he slept at the door, and off she went along the lane, full of life and glee. Not a flower in all the fields looked half so fresh and fair.

By this good management she was never late, never came in a hurry, heated and tired and out of breath, but was always in good time, and went to her class, of which she was monitor, and there waited until all were assembled, having first taken out all the books, pencils, slates and table cards, that would be required for the morning lessons. This regularity was a great benefit to little Anne, for she never lost any lesson. Some children stay away for a day or two, and then they miss three or four lessons, and when they return again, the teacher is going on a great way past where they left off, and so they lose all connection with what has gone before. But this did not our little friend. It is no wonder therefore that she soon became a favourite both with her teacher and also the clergyman, who always catechised the children four days a week; he would have taught them every day, but he had a very large parish, and many poor and sick people to visit, and a great deal of duty at the church.

Perhaps you think that little Anne must have been very proud of being a favourite and standing first in the class, and having a prize book with the clergyman's name in it. Well, in one sense she was proud of it, that is, she was pleased and grateful, and felt

encouraged to go on and do better still. But if you think that she was improperly proud, and held up her head very haughtily, and despised the other children, and boasted of her knowledge, you are quite wrong. She did no such thing. She never seemed to be quite aware how good she was. And it was very well for her that it was so, for it is always dangerous for people to have too good an opinion of themselves, and we are so easily made proud that we are apt to set ourselves up for somebody upon the least sign of anything good in us.

But Anne was not proud, she was not a forward girl, but very modest and well behaved, when she was called a good girl she would colour up and look ashamed, and hide away her face. And then too she was kind, nobody could be kinder, she would give her half-pennies (though she never had many) to give to poor beggars, or to put on the plate when there was a collection at church, and sometimes when nobody saw her she would drop the only penny she had into the box which was placed by the entrance of the church, to receive alms for the poor; once I saw her put a farthing, only a farthing, into the box. It was all she had but she gave it out of love to God, and I am sure it would be accepted, for you will remember what our Lord said of the poor woman who cast in two mites into the treasury of the Temple. "This woman hath cast in more than they all." But one of the best things about little Anne was her deep and earnest piety. "What"! you are almost ready to say, "deep and earnest piety"! Can such children as she be deeply and earnestly pious? Yes, reader, they can, and she was so. You would be sure of it, if you saw her at her morning and evening prayers, and how she obeyed her parents, and how delighted she was to go to church, and how well she behaved there. Morning and evening her heart went up to God in deep devotion, on Sundays she went to church with the rest of the children, and set them an excellent example of good conduct. Her teacher always placed her at the end of the class furthest from herself, because she knew that she could trust her to help to keep the others quiet. It would have comforted you to have seen her kneeling down and joining in the confession, and feeling the force

of every word of it, then lifting up her bright blue eyes after the absolution, and saying in a clear voice, full of life, "Our Father which art in heaven." Nor was she inattentive to the sermon. When she got home, she would write down what she remembered of it, and shew it to Miss Bland the teacher of the School, who kindly corrected her mistakes and often told her of many parts which Anne had forgotten. In this way she learnt a great deal. She was very delighted with her little stock of sermons as she called them, and sometimes when one of her school-fellows came to see her, she would bring them out and they would read them together and talk about them, and about good Mr. Bernard, the Rector.

Now putting all these good qualities together, was not little Anne a dear good girl? Do you not fancy you can see her before you, with her smiling face and bounding figure? Do you not feel that if she went to your school you would love her, and choose her for a friend? And if my reader is a little girl, does she not wish that she were as good as little Anne? Well, you may be if you try. You cannot have blue eyes and flaxen hair, if you have not them now, and you cannot bound along the green lanes, if you live in a large smoky town, with narrow streets, and tall chimnies. But you can rise in good time in the morning, and so always be early at school, and you can be very attentive while there, and learn a great deal. And you can pray to God morning and evening, and watch over your words, and thoughts, and actions, lest you commit a sin. And when you go to church you can behave as well as little Anne, and do what she did. And then God will love you as he loved her, and prosper you and watch over you. You can be kind and gentle to every one; even to animals and dumb things, you can be good natured to the poor. If you have no money to give away, you can still do many kind things. You can fetch water for a poor old neighbour, or you can read to some one who is blind. Any of these things you can do as you have opportunity. Try and have a kind spirit always, and then every thing that is good natured will come naturally to you.