freshness of the cool night air, the fragrance of the whitethorn hedges, and the silence that reigned around. As I walked along, my mind was occupied with thoughts of the benevolence of God as manifested by the beauties with which he has so lavishly adorned our world, and by the provision made for the wants of man's nature, both for his bodily need and his intellectual and moral faculties. Man is more than an animal that needs lodging and food: he is full of keen perceptions and deep sympathies: he has an eye for the sublime and beautiful; and so his kind Creator has furnished his abode with materials for these nobler tastes. How pleasant it is, I thought, to dwell upon these proofs of his fatherly love! But can we wonder at these inferior tokens of regard for his creatures, when we remember his one great gift?" He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shali ne not with him also freely give us all things?"* It seemed strange to me, as I thought of these things, that the human race, treated as they have been, were not perpetually sending up the voice of praise and thanksgiving; and I could now, as I had not done before, feel the force of the appeal made by the sweet singer of Israel, "Bless the Lord, all his works, in all places in his dominion."† Just then the silence was interrupted by the low sound of music at a distance. It was coming toward me, and as it drew nearer I could perceive that it came from one small instrument and two voices. The latter appeared to be of a sweet tone, and were those of girls. Are these strains, thought I, dedicated to the praises of God? Alas, no! as the musicians came closer to where I stood listening, I found that theirs was not one of the songs of Zion, but idle words arranged to one of our national airs. Nearer still, and the moonlight enabled me to discern that the singers were two very young girls, almost children, to whom a little boy played an accompaniment on a small barrel organ. "It is late for you to be out, my dears," I said. After some further remarks, desirous to lead their minds to God, I observed, "You have nice voices; but do you know who gave you them ?" It They looked surprised and somewhat puzzled at the question. At last the eldest of the girls answered: was Mrs. Merton who gave Johnny the little barrel organ, † Psalm ciii. 21. *Romans viii. 32. sir: she thought it would help our singing; and she was getting us taught when she was obliged to go away.” "But Mrs. Merton could not have had your voices improved," I replied, "unless some one had first given them to you. Who was it?" This was readily answered: "It was God, sir." "And for what do you think he gave them ?" I inquired. Again the two girls seemed puzzled, and were silent; but the little boy cried out, "I know, sir, I know!" and he sang these words: "To the dear Redeemer's praise, Who has saved us by his blood, Loud thanksgivings to our God." Surprised and much pleased, I said, "Quite right, my boy, quite right. Your voices were given for that purpose. 'Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord.'* But where did you learn those lines?" "Out of my song-book, sir." "That's what Johnny calls his hymn-book, sir," said the eldest of his sisters, laughing. "And," she continued, “he has learned some other things out of it that are queer enough. What would you think of him, sir, that won't play his barrel-organ for us of a Sunday, though we don't give him a bit of supper that night since he won't help to earn it?" "How could I, sir, how could I, since I heard God's commandment about the sabbath, in the hymn?" he exclaimed, as if anxious to excuse himself to me. "Indeed you could not, my little friend. I should hope you were always anxious to oblige your sisters; but we know it is right to obey God rather than man," I answered, evidently to the disappoinment of the sister, who said, "It is late: good night to your honour." These young musicians, especially the little boy, had interested me so much that I wished to see them again, though the eldest girl seemed far from desiring to renew our acquaintance. When I inquired their address, she affected not to hear me, but said, "Good night, sir; it is late." However, her sister, who had not yet spoken, mentioned, in a gentle tone, the lane where they resided; and Johnny cried out, Oh, may be your honour would come and see us there." 66 Seeing the younger girl friendly, I asked a few hurried *Psalm cl. 6. questions before we parted, from the answers to which as well as from subsequent interviews, I learned the family history. Their father had been long dead. Their mother had died about a year before, leaving them destitute. Mrs. Merton, the lady already mentioned, assisted them; and, having discovered that they possessed a musical taste, and good voices, she resolved, not wisely, that these poor orphans should for a while, try to support themselves by singing in the street. For this purpose she got lessons in singing for the girls, and the barrel-organ for Johnny; but they lost their patroness by her being obliged to go to a distant country, and were now often in much distress. As may be supposed, all that I had heard led me to desire to see more of the children; and the next morning, at an early hour, I sought them in the miserable lane where they had told me their home was. They had not yet set out on their daily rounds; and now that I saw them by day-light, the pale cheeks and thin forms of these poor young creatures showed how little strength they had for much exertion. Doubtless their precarious mode of earning a livelihood often exposed them to terrible privations. Almost instinctively I said, "Have you had breakfast? or am I in your way?" Downcast looks plainly said no. "Well, young friends, let me provide breakfast to-dayJohnny, you will get it." I put some money into his hand. His eyes sparkled, "Oh, thank you, thank you sir," he said; "Nanny, make the kettle boil." And off he set with full speed, to the grocer's and the baker's. The meal was not long in being prepared and eaten. Their spirits were cheered by it; and, their young hearts overflowing with gratitude for the trifling kindness I had shown, they became as communicative as I could desire. À conversation followed, from which I learned, what I was most anxious to know, the means that had led the little boy to discern some glimpses of the light of heavenly truth. The parents of the little musicians had been Roman Catholics; and, while they lived, Johnny had attended the national school, where he learned to read in a short time. Soon after his mother's death the bad state of his clothes obliged the poor little boy to give up school. He then went with his sisters about the streets, accompanying the singing with his barrel-organ, to try and gain a few pence from the passers-by. Once, when the toils of the day were over, as he was going by a place of worship, he heard singing within. Johnny possessed the family taste for music, and paused in the door-way to listen, a curtain drawn across it concealing him from those inside. The singing was sweet, and superior to any that this little boy had ever heard. He waited till the last note died away, and then walked on slowly, thinking over what was, to him, a treat. But it was not the music only that had so much engrossed his attention. Those who possess a taste for it are seldom without one for the sister art of poetry. The words of the hymn had also their share of attraction; and though in a very imperfect way, some of them remained on his mind. They spoke of the sinner's guilt, and of the atonement made for it by the precious blood of the Saviour. From that time, every evening that the hymns were being sung in the place of worship, the young listener stood behind the curtain; his ears drinking in the tones of the mingled voices, and his young heart, as it seemed, the gospel truth embodied in the words. Such was the Holy Spirit's way of bringing this little wandering lamb into the fold of Jesus; and are we too fanciful in supposing that perhaps some of those pure and happy inhabitants of heaven who rejoice in the conversion of a sinner, in seeing Johnny at his usual place by the door, may have longed to say to him, "Come in, thou blessed of the Lord; wherefore standest thou without?"* A lady, who once came late to the meeting, finding him at his usual post, asked what he was doing there. "Trying to learn some of these pretty songs, ma'am," was his reply, "for I have no book." She gave him her hymn-book, and from that time it was his frequent study. From its little blossoms of poetry, even the most humble, Johnny, like a skilful bee, extracted a portion of sweet food for his soul. Slender as were his means of acquiring religious knowledge, it was surprising how much he knew. It has been said that the correctness of our spiritual tastes and desires is often much above the measure of our spiritual intelligence. He knew little more than that Jesus had died to save men; and his heart's desire was to find out what was the good Saviour's will, and to prove his love and gratitude by doing it. Ellen, the eldest girl, seemed to care for none of these *Gen. xxiv. 32. things, or rather to dislike them for the influence they had over Johnny's mind; and her sister Nanny was so reserved and bashful that I was unable to discover how she regarded them. I talked to these orphans about the good part which, as I trusted, the little boy had chosen, and the wickedness and folly of those who neglect it. I then referred to their temporal concerns, expressing a wish that they could procure some better way of gaining a livelihood than that they now followed, which was far from being either profitable or eligible. I pointed out some of the dangers likely to arise from such a life, observing that it was wrong to go in the way of temptation if it could possibly be avoided. Alluding to their being without a parent or any other earthly guide, I tried to lead them to trust in Him who has promised to be the Father of the fatherless, giving them a Bible wherein, I told them, they could learn his will, if they searched and prayed for it with a desire to do it. "That which I see not, teach thou me. If I have done iniquity, I will do no more.' Before leaving them I offered up a prayer for these poor orphans. Johnny's face was bathed in tears when we rose from our knees. Some time elapsed before I could again visit the young musicians, but I was not unmindful of them. Not being rich enough to do much for them myself, I tried to interest in their favour those who were. It pleased God to give me more success than I expected. When able to go to them again, I had pleasant news to take to them, and entered their wretched dwelling with a light heart. It looked more wretched than ever, and so did its youthful inmates. Nanny was weeping violently, and her little brother appeared as if trying to soothe her. They welcomed me joyfully, but it was a joy as if chastened by previous suffering of some kind. Ellen, the eldest, seemed far less pleased at my visit. To my inquiry, "What is the matter, my poor children?" She replied, Only that they have been taking your advice, and the advice of the book you gave them, sir.” 66 66 66 Johnny sprang towards me, his face suddenly lit up with delight. Yes, sir," he cried, Nanny loves the Lord Jesus now. She learns from his book; she will do his bidding always." "With God's help, my boy," I replied. nothing of ourselves." *Job xxxiv. 32. "We can do |