When Samuel was young
He first knew the Lord,
He slept in his smile

And rejoiced in his word;
So most of God's children
Are early brought nigh:
Oh seek Him in youth-
To a Saviour fly.

Do you ask me for pleasure?
Then lean on His breast,
For there the sin laden
And weary find rest.
In the valley of death
You will triumphing cry,
"If this be called dying,
'Tis pleasant to die."

FOUNTAIN OF SILOAM.

[Written at the Foot of Carmel, June 1839, by the Same.]

ISAIAH viii. 6.

Beneath Moriah's rocky side
A gentle fountain springs;
Silent and soft its waters glide,
Like the peace the Spirit brings.

The thirsty Arab stoops to drink
Of the cool and quiet wave,
And the thirsty spirit stops to think
Of Him who came to save.

Siloam is the fountain's name,

It means "One sent from God;"
And thus the holy Saviour's name
It gently spreads abroad.

O grant that I, like this sweet well,
May Jesus' image bear,

And spend my life, my all, to tell
How full His mercies are!

THE

MISSIONARY REPOSITORY

For Youth.

THE FIRST OF AUGUST IN JAMAICA.

In some families birthdays are kept. The little boys and girls have holidays and treats with their brothers and sisters, as the birthdays of each come round. The freed negroes in the British West Indies keep their birthday too, and a very joyful day it is. They all keep the same day, and that day is the 1st of August.

Were they all born on that day? No; but on that day, in the year 1838, they were all set free. They did not keep their other birthdays before; for many of them, when poor slaves, were very sorry that they had ever been born: but they keep this birthday, and will always keep it; for it was the birthday of freedom, and hope, and joy.

Oh, how eagerly they looked forward to it the first time, in 1838! I do not think that any but the very little children slept the night before. All the rest remained up to watch the joyful morning in. Many crowded the churches and chapels, and watched for it there. In some chapels they waited for it on their knees; and when the clock struck twelve, they rose, and shouted, or joined in one hymn of jubilee. In some chapels they stood and waited; and when the time came, they knelt down to offer their first thanks to God: but they all burst into tears of joy, and the voice of the minister could not be heard for the sobbing of the people. Some of them were scattered through the towns and villages, singing "God save the Queen," or hymns of praise, and oftentimes shouting, "Freedom's come!" "We're free, we're free! Our wives and our children are free!" On the day following they again crowded to their places of worship, to listen to the sermons, and to join in prayer and praise.

After service, many processions were formed, and many feasts kept. In the frontispiece you see a number of about seven thousand from the Baptist chapel, assembling in the Square of Spanish Town, in Jamaica. There were two thousand children of the schools besides; and they all walked in procession, with flags and banners, and sang hymns before the Government House.

VOL. VII.

I

No. 80.

The governor addressed them; and the air rang, from time to time, with their shouts of joy.

Seven years have passed since then; and still, as the 1st of August comes round, the negroes keep it as a holiday—a day of thanksgiving and joy. Let us remember them, and rejoice with them, as the day returns; and let us not forget to pray for millions who are yet in slavery.

A STORY FROM JAMAICA.

NEAR to one of the public roads in the beautiful Island of Jamaica, a few years ago, stood a quiet cottage, sheltered by the broad leaves of a spreading mango tree. Often did the passing traveller stop at its little gate; and had our young readers been there, they probably would have stopped too-but not to admire the shadowy tree, or the peaceful looking cottage. Oh no! their question would have been, "What are those fearful groans which we hear? those cries of suffering and sorrow?" We will tell you, dear children, what those sad sounds were.

That cottage, so sunny and bright in its outward beauty, was yet one of "the dark places of the earth," a "habitation of cruelty." Its mistress was an owner of slaves; and if they displeased her, so cruel was her anger that the shrieks which were so often heard told constantly of some poor sufferer on whom she was inflicting pain and torture. One aged negress, in particular, was often painfully punished, because she had learned to love the Saviour, and often knelt to pray to her Father in heaven.

One day a missionary travelled by: he was looking for a piece of land to build a chapel on, but the rich men of the place would not sell him any. Then the mistress of this cottage went out, and, asking the missionary to follow, she led him to a little hill close by, and, looking round, she said, "This piece of ground is mine-take it, and build your chapel-I will give it to you." "What!" you are ready to say, woman that beat the poor slave ?"

66 was this the angry Yes, it was; and it