The many persons, taking their morning walk, were glad to pass, and smilingly asked the little builders if they did not take toll; to which they civilly replied, "No." But the next day the idea was suggested that the bridge might be called a Missionary Bridge, and a toll of one halfpenny requested of any who were willing to aid the missionary cause. little boys were delighted to find their pleasant employment might assist in carrying the precious gospel to heathen lands. A nice bright blue bag was quickly made, and fastened to the top of a stick about a yard high, and, thus equipped, the little laborers again set out to rebuild what the tide had washed away. The bridge built, and the stick and bag reared up in the sand at one end of it, some of the company kindly encouraged the little boys, and slipped their halfpence into the bag. One lady, though quite a stranger, gave them such kind looks and words, that she won the hearts of the little boys at once they were sure she loved Jesus and the missionaries. The whole of their work, however, was not quite so smooth and pleasant. Some were quite indifferent; and one spoke so disrespectfully of the cause in which they were engaged, that the hearts of the little boys were wounded; but the kind lady had told them never to be ashamed of the missionary work, for it is the work of Christ; and that, whether young or old, all must expect to meet with some difficulties, if they would serve Him who took up his cross to serve and save us. The varying tides, and other circumstances, only allowed of the Missionary Bridge being built three times during their stay; on which occasions they received the sum of 5s. 1d. from those who passed over it. Small as this may appear, their Missionary Bridge may, with God's blessing, be the means of conveying some of the richest treasures to perishing souls. If it help over one precious Bible, who can tell what great and glorious things may be accomplished? TIME cannot tell: ETERNITY will reveal it. And may it be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off. We know that He will not despise the feeble efforts of little children, but will say of them, as He did of Mary, when she poured the ointment on His blessed head, "They have done what they could.”—Ch. Miss. Juv. Instr. THE SLAVE WHO WANTS A GOD. An Armenian in Smyrna has a young African slave of good abilities, who has acquired considerable knowledge of the Armenian and French languages and of accounts, though he can read or write very little. Not long ago he said to his master, "Master, I have no God to pray to. I am neither Mohammedan, Jew nor Christian. I want a God to pray to." His master mentioned the subject to his friends and something was said about having him taught the Roman Catholic system. But one of these friends replied, “As you are going to give him a religion, make him a Protestant at once, and done with it." To this his master had no objection, and so Mr. Riggs, our missionary in Smyrna, who gives the account, was asked to become his teacher. When the slave came, Mr. Riggs had a long conversation with him. He is perfectly black and seems to have been brought from the interior of Africa, and is doubtless from a heathen country, though he can give no account whatever of the religion of his people. When Mr. Riggs asked him whether they worshiped one God or many, he said he should think many, though he was so young when brought from his native country, he could not certainly tell. To the inquiry what led him to desire a God, he could only say, "I feel a desire for a God to worship." Mr. Riggs invited him to come regularly for instruction, and hopes to be able to guide him to that Savior in whom there is neither "Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free." Col. iii. 11. How interesting the case of this poor African. Perhaps God permitted him to be kidnapped and sold and brought to Smyrna, that he might learn the way of salvation. Who knows but he may, by and by, go to the home of his fathers, a converted, educated man, to establish a mission and spread the light of the gospel in the heart of Africa? Will you not pray, children, that many such teachers for the black man may be raised up, and the delightful promise be fulfilled, "Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands unto God?" MISSION HOUSE AT BEIRUT IN SYRIA. The mission grounds at Beirût lie just outside of the walls, near the south-west corner of the city, and consist of three separate terraces, one above another, as they recede from the city. The house stands on the third and highest terrace, and from its flat roof commands one of the finest views in the world. Looking down upon city, and sea, and smiling suburbs, the delighted eye wanders over scattered groups of oriental cottages embosomed in mulberry orchards, rising range above range, southward and eastward, until the swelling hills and rocky ramparts and snow-capped summit of "sainted Lebanon" complete and close the picture. The house is built of stone, three stories high, and fronts the east. Under the arch, behind the cypress tree, may be seen many cannon balls imbedded in the wall. These balls fell on the premises during the bombardment of Beirût by the English in 1840. Some of them passed through the house; but the missionaries were all on board of one of our ships of war, which had been kindly sent to protect them in that time of danger. The basement of this house is occupied by the printing press and the native chapel. Useful books and tracts are published there, and there, too, the missionaries preach the gospel both to the Arabs and to Europeans and Americans who live in Beirût. The upper part is occupied by one of the mission families. On the north-west corner of the same terrace is a room built by some benevolent persons in that part of the world for a female school. Directly east of this, on the middle terrace, are some magazine and store-rooms; and in one part of these buildings lives the venerable bishop Carabet, whose likeness you have seen in the last Dayspring. He is very feeble, and does not expect to live many days more. The window of his room opens upon the third terrace, which is the burial-place of the American mission. There lies the body of the beloved missionary, Fisk, the pioneer and founder of the Syrian mission. Plain white slabs also inform the visitor that Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Hebard, Mrs. Wolcott, and many other dear friends and sweet babes were there gathered to their long repose, and in that retired and secure retreat await in hope the summons of the resurrection morn. It is a sweet and solemn spot. There many a tear falls and thence many a prayer ascends, and the serene, calm countenance of the returning visitant speaks of communion with God and thoughts of heaven. |