SAM THE FIDDLER. SAM was a servant in a gentleman's family in Jamaica. Though a slave he had a comfortable situation, and little to do except to wait upon his master. He excelled in playing on a violin, and was accustomed to play that instrument at the merry-makings of the negroes and the balls of the Europeans. He was brought, however, to listen to the word of life. It reached his heart; he felt the importance of religion, embraced the gospel, and became a decided Christian. Fearing that his musical instrument might now prove a snare, he broke it; for he thought if he sold it he might be tempted to buy another with the money. One day his master told him that he would soon be wanted to play his favourite instrument. He replied, "Fiddle broke, massa." "It must be mended, Sam." "Broke all to pieces, massa." "Well, we must get a new one, Sam." "Me tink dat no good, massa-be soon broke." The master began to suspect that this breaking of fiddles must have something to do with religion, to which, unhappily, he was no friend. "I hope you do not go to pray, and go after these mad-headed folks, Sam." "To tell de truth, me gone, massa." His owner now threatened him with punishment, and told him he should be flogged. The negro, however, was firm. "Dat no good, massa; whip no flog de word out." His master then declared that he should be turned out of his comfortable situation, and sent to work on the plantation. He, however, had counted the cost, and remained immov able, so that his owner's threat was executed. Dismissed from a situation of comfort to toil in a field of labour, under the burning sun of Jamaica, he felt for a time dejected, but soon perceived that an opportunity for doing important good was now before him. In his master's family he mingled with a few domestics, now he was in the midst of three hundred slaves. He began, therefore, to tell them about his Saviour, and to invite them to go and hear his minister. Many of them yielded to his invitations; and in a little while, of these three hundred, about a hundred and fifty became regular hearers of the everlasting gospel. His master heard of this, and felt still more incensed. He called for him, and addressed him with severity," How dare you to trouble my negroes? I will have no praying negroes." "Me no tink they are troubled, massa. Do they work much worse, or are they more saucy, massa ?" "That is nothing to you; how dare you trouble my negroes ?" "To tell de truth, massa, me tink dat de bread dat is good for my soul is good for brother neger; and me tink dat if it is a good ting for me to escape hell, it is good for brother neger; and if heaven is a good place for me, it is a good place for brother neger; and me pray, and me pray for my rich massa, and me tink dat if my rich massa would once go and hear de missionary, he would always go afterwards." This was too much for the master's patience; he called the negro 'Parson Sam," banged the door, and sent him away. The poor Christian departed with a grateful heart, thankful to God that he had escaped with nothing worse than angry words, and began to think what more he could do for his good and gracious God. His owner possessed other estates, and had from a thousand to two thousand negroes upon them. Sam turned his attention to them. his hard day's work beneath a tropical sun was finished, he would steal away to one or other of these plantations to talk to those slaves about his Saviour, and invite them to go and hear the missionary. Sometimes he did this as When often as two or three nights in a week. as has been seen in many others, as if At other times, when the Saturday came, which was allowed for himself, he would embrace the opportunity thus afforded and visit a plantation, and invite the negroes to go with him and hear massa missionary. Thus he persisted in this course of benevolent zeal till he had brought about five hundred persons to become regular hearers of the gospel, many of whom had felt its power, and of whom, at the time when this narrative was given, upwards of forty had been baptized, while a number more were serious inquirers after salvation. the evident vigour of his mind were counterbalanced by the proportionate frailty of his body. His moral character, however, as evinced by his unquestionable Christian principle, is the trait which it is chiefly my object to illustrate and enforce; though I still cannot proceed without remarking on the fact, that his case is but one among many in confirmation of the truth, that unusually early intellectual vigour does not necessarily clash with high moral excellence, but may, by God's blessing on good management, be made subservient to its promotion. For about two years before his death, and when he was not more than ten years of age, he was remarkable for his attention when engaged in Divine worship, for his love to what may pre While thus zealous for the salvation of others, he knew where, in the time of trial, to look for strength and grace. The missionary being obliged for a time to leave his flock, expressed to this poor Christian his fears that when the shep-eminently be termed the doctrines of herd was gone the flock might suffer. The negro, however, reminded him that the chief Shepherd is for ever very near. "Massa missionary must go, Massa Christ no go; poor neger all weak, massa Christ all strong." At another time the missionary overheard him exhorting some of his acquaintance to exert themselves to bear the expenses of that station, that the society thus relieved might send the gospel to some of their poor brethren elsewhere. Would God that every professing Christian would follow this good example! EARLY RIPENESS-THE BOY- H. C., who was an intelligent son of grace, for his correct discernment of their character, and for the increasing influence which their being inculcated on his attention exerted on his heart, and mind, and conduct. On one occasion, when he had been listening, together with his pious father, to a sermon on that cardinal point of our common and Christian creed, the doctrine of justification by faith alone, as, at once, the solid ground of the Divine glory, and of the believer's security, and the firm foundation of that Christian devotedness which consecrates all to the Saviour "who gave himself for us," on retiring from the service he engaged in conversation on the subject with a clearness of discernment, a depth of feeling, a vigour of mind, and a degree of piety, which induced his father afterwards to say, "Had any one who, by faith, was correctly acquainted with the matter of our conversation, overheard us, he would have concluded I was talking with a man of thirty, instead of a boy eleven years of age." In his fulfilment of the responsible duties entrusted by his father to his charge he evinced a degree of penetration, order, perseverance, and judgment, alike unusual and striking for one, if not immature, yet so young. But his conduct and experience, as he was gradually declining and dying, are especially worthy of regard and admi ration. Consumption at once seized | cularly wanted her, he would speak and held him with fearful and wither- again, she did not reply. He then ing grasp. For about six months be- added, "I suppose she is asleep. Well, fore his spirit was released his body 'I know in whom I have believed, and was habitually suffering and pining I am persuaded he is able to keep that away. Indeed, so effectual was the which I have committed to him against wasting effect of his disease, that for that day; for he hath loved me and some time before his death his princi- given himself for me."" The last inpal joints were covered by plasters, interview between him and the minister order that their bones might not break of his choice was alike characteristic, through his tender, fading skin. But impressive, and instructive. His friend he murmured not; he was resigned and called at the house towards the close at peace. His constant delight during of the day before that on which he his waking moments, and as long as died, and on inquiring whether he declining strength left him sufficient could bear the interruption of a visit, mental energy, was in praying, and he said, "Oh, by all means, let me see reading, and conversing on religious Mr. L." His minister, (to use his own subjects. And if ever, on awaking words,) on looking on him, saw that he from one of his daily feverish and was nearly gone, and, consequently, rebroken slumbers, he found that the marked to his excellent grandmother, minister under whose preaching he had "I am afraid he is too weak to bear habitually sat, had been there and gone the effort of attending to prayer." He away without seeing him, he would was, however, asked, and immediately often say, "Oh, why didn't you awake replied, "Oh yes, I wish him to pray me? Mr. L.'s conversation and pray- with me." "Have you a desire I should ers would have done me more good pray for anything in particular?" he than the sleep which has kept them was then asked. "Pray, sir, if you from me." The minister whose ser- please, that I may have pardon and vices he held in such estimation was a patience-pardon of my sins, and paDissenter who had charge of the then tience under my sufferings," was his newly-raised interest in the town, and reply. With this his sympathising whose public instructions he had for friend cordially complied, and to his some time preferred to those of the petitions the dying child added his parish clergyman on whose ministra- emphatic "Amen." Soon afterwards tions his parents habitually attended; he ceased to breathe; and on the next and, to account for this preference, he inquiry which was made about him, used to say, "I like to go to chapel, be- the reply was, "He is gone home." cause I understand better what Mr. L. Yes, he had gone home to that dear says, and feel it more in my heart than Saviour who loved him, redeemed him, I do what I hear when I go to church." sanctified and saved him, and whose But superior as were the powers of his love to him was unquestionable, because enlightened understanding, and enabled of the evident love which it enkindled as he thus was to estimate the evange- in him. "We love him because he lical elucidation of Scriptural truth, it first loved us," 1 John iv. 19. was by the Christian emotion of his This narrative presents a lessonrenewed and ardent spirit that his 1. To parents. Who may learn from rapidly maturing character was chiefly it how speedily, abundantly, and imascertainable. Only a few weeks be-pressively their attempts to produce fore his release from the body he was overheard, while engaged in soliloquy, expressing his full confidence in Christ. 2. To young persons. This dear boy, The occasion was as follows. His when only about twelve years old, was pious, widowed grandmother, who oc- not too young to die; nor, for some cupied another bed in the same cham-years before that, was he too young to ber, happened one night to be awake seek, and find, and enjoy a sense of and heard him gently say, " Grand- the love of his Saviour. mother." Thinking that, if he parti and promote early piety in their children may be prospered and blest. 3. To readers in general. All, like him, may expect, sooner or later, to have duties to fulfil and trials to endure. Religion alone can fully fit them for either, while it is also quite equal abundantly to qualify them for both. Seek it then, my dear readers, where this dear boy found it, at the feet of Jesus, and then you will find that it will raise you to his arms, and enable you ever to repose in his bosom. London, May, 1846. T. L. L. FARMER JONES AND THE Boys. Mr. Jones, you promised to tell us a secret-how to be always prepared for the Sunday-school-what is it? Farmer Jones. To bed, my lads, when weary, and up when you awaken. No soaking! There is no time spent so stupidly as that which inconsiderate boys pass in a morning between sleeping and waking. He who is awake may be at book or at play; he who is asleep is receiving the refreshment necessary to fit him for action; but the hours spent in dozing and slumbering are wasted, without either pleasure or profit. In particular, rise early on Sabbath morning, and proceed at once to pray and study for the class. THE CHILD AND THE SNOW- As when autumn's leaves are gone, A SUMMER SONG. How beautiful the deep blue sky! And O how glad the brook runs by, And sings its song of mirth, T. AVELING. THE CHILD'S PRAYER. MY Saviour, at thy gracious throne But keep me near to thee. Through all my childhood's sunny years Still keep my wayward spirit right, T. AVELING. THE CHILD'S CONFESSION. A WEAK and thoughtless child, I come To mourn my cold and sinful heart; So prone from thee, my God, to roam, And after every folly start. And sadly I remember too, Whene'er I think of time that's gone, How oft what I ought not to do I very foolishly have done. O pardon me, my God, I pray, And make me do thy holy will; And every hour and every day Be wiser, holier, happier still. T. AVELING. Cabinet of Things New and Old. THE TWO SORROWS. The animal creation, of SORROW is a feeling known only to man. which man is the head, knows nothing of this emotion. They are susceptible of pain, pain even unto death, but not of sorrow. Sorrow is a mixed feeling, which implies rationality and responsibility-the knowledge of duty and the neglect of it. The apostle Paul mentions two kinds of sorrow,-godly sorrow, and the sorrow of the world, of one of which all flesh, sooner or later, must be the subject. In connection with these sorrows there are several points which deserve inquiry. pro 1. What is meant by "godly sorrow?" Sorrow is always connected with the idea, true or false, of good-good lost. This view does not exclude the idea of present evil, but, in fact, comprehends it. The evil is created by the absence of good, as darkness arises from the extinction of light, and the cessation of life is death. Sorrow and fear are, therefore, not the same thing. The cause of sorrow is, indeed, always a just ground of fear; and whatever duces fear in the bosom of a creature, made in the image of God, ought to excite sorrow. But, strictly speaking, sorrow finds its cause in the past, in the loss of a real or an imaginary good. In the case before us it results from the loss of that favour which is life, and of that loving-kindness which is better than life. For this reason it is called godly sorrow: the chief cause of it refers to God. The soul feels it has offended him by sinning against light, and love, and goodness, and has thereby not only forfeited all claim to fatherly considerations, but become obnoxious to the highest punishment. This sorrow, then, mourns over the loss of God, whom it supremely desires to find again. Reader! knowest thou anything of this sorrow? Have you realized what it is to be alone in this mighty world, without God and without hope? This, by nature, is the condition of all; but grace works a difference, grace brings the soul to God again. Yea, justice will at length bring the soul to God. Men cannot always remain without the knowledge and the fear, although they may without the love, of God. II. What is meant by godly sorrow working "repentance to salvation not to be repented of?" This signifies something very great. A soul awakened to feel, and quickened to see, itself without the knowledge, image, and favour of God, is in a very awful condition. The extreme folly of a life of sin is then perceived; the guilt of transgression is understood; the danger attending guilt is apprehended; and the misery of a soul under these circumstances is felt. This sad assemblage of evil lays the foundation of the feeling called "repentance," the change of mind called "repentance from dead works, '—" repentance towards God,"-" repentance to the acknow K |