"I do not know," said she, "but I suppose you may read on Sunday."

Rosalie resolved to mention this circumstance to her papa, as she was aware that he had procured them the comfort of a private room, in order that they might not be prevented from performing their religious duties; but, according to this arrangement, they could not derive any benefit from it, as they found the young ladies were not allowed to go to their rooms during the day, except for a few minutes to dress for dinner. They lay down to rest, therefore, rather dissatisfied with their first day at school.

The loud ringing of the bell startled Helen from sleep, she waked Rosalie, and both hastened to dress; but found that time would not allow them to read their accustomed scripture portion, before descending to the study. Here they remained till seven o'clock, when the Roman Catholic pupils were taken to church, while a teacher read a collection of Popish prayers, somewhat similar to those of the previous evening, to the Protestant pupils, although there was an English teacher in the house, who would gladly have performed this duty, had she been permitted.

The second day's employments were varied; as, upon examination, Rosalie and Helen were found sufficiently advanced in their studies to take their places in the grande classe.

The first thing there that reminded them that they were in a Popish seminary, was the accustomed address to the Virgin. The catéchisme not being repeated in this room, but, in its place, at four o'clock, Madame Saint André read to her pupils the life of Saint Thérèsa, and then made a few familiar observations on her piety, self-denial, and other virtues.

Thus passed the first fortnight at school, each day being like its predecessor.

The Sabbath-day gave our young friends an opportunity of studying the word of God for a short time, as one hour in the afternoon was allowed the Protestant pupils to read their Bibles, or to have prayer in the English teacher's apartment: this privilege, and attending the morning service at a Protestant church, were all the religious observances which were permitted them.

THE OLD STABLE.

[From the Ragged School Union Magazine.] *

It is upwards of ten years since we first visited the back streets and courts which lie immediately behind Westminster Abbey. Our object was to make known the message of God's mercy and love to the degraded inhabitants of that neighbourhood. After taking a survey of the old brick buildings, some of which seemed nodding to their fall, we entered the wretched dwellings. This, however, required no small degree of moral courage. While passing from house to house and room to room, we found everything in keeping with windows long since broken, and streetdoors wrenched from their hinges. The filthy, dilapidated

dwellings sadly harmonized with the ruffianly and besotted aspect of the inhabitants, among whom employment too frequently means crime, and amusement—debauchery and outrage. No one could go within the precincts of such a place, without perceiving that he had entered into a colony of thieves and pickpockets. Under the shadow of St. Stephen's, the seat of British Legislation, were these masses of the human family to be found, who knew no religion, and literally owned no laws. At the doors and windows of the houses, and also at the ends of narrow courts, were seen loitering, groups of half-dressed men and women, smoking, swearing, and occasionally fighting. The swarms of filthy, neglected children, squatted in the mud, were screaming forth language as profane and obscene as that of their elders. These were being trained, as their fathers and mothers had been before them, in that system of education of which Newgate and Botany Bay are the almost inevitable results.

One fine Sabbath afternoon, in the month of April, when the streets were unusually crowded, after having provided a large room, we went forth in company with a poor tinker, (the only person in the neighbourhood who would render us any assistance,) to gather together these poor neglected and outcast children of the streets.

After no small effort, forty were taken to the room, all of

* We hail with delight, the issue of this first number of a magazine devoted to the interests of Ragged Schools. If all its papers be distinguished by the same honest truthfulness as the one we have extracted, we think it will prove a most effective auxiliary in this holy cause.

whom looked as wild as the deer taken from the mountain, and penned up within the hurdles, when approached by men; the matted hair, the mud-covered face, hands, and feet, the ragged and tattered clothes, that served as an apology to cover their nakedness, gave the group a very grotesque appearance, and would have been a fine subject for the painter's pencil.

Little was done that afternoon besides taking names, and even in this we had to encounter difficulties. Beginning with the first bench, a boy was asked, "What is your name?"

"They calls me Billy," he answered.

"Where do you live?"

"I lives in that yer street down the way, at Mother M-'s rag-shop; I have a t'other brother, but I am older than he." The next boy was ten years of age; he said his name was Dick.

'Any other name besides Dick?"

"No, they calls me Dick; I sells matches in the streets, and live in that t'other street next room to Jimmy that sells oranges." Such is a specimen of the answers given to questions respecting names, age, and residence!

Some interesting stories were told them from the Scriptures, and at the close of the afternoon, each child had a small card given him, containing a short prayer. Attached to it was a piece of pink tape, that it might be hung over the mantel-shelf.

This appeared to them more valuable than if it had been gold. Accompanying this reward, was an invitation to come again next Sabbath, which was heartily responded to by each child.

Next Sabbath, a large addition to our former numbers was congregated at the school room. The work of teaching was commenced, amid difficulties only known to those who engaged in it, but by patience and perseverance they were eventually overcome. For the first time in the history of these neglected outcasts, they found out that some one loved them; they had hearts to feel it, and in return they gave their best gifts-regular attendance and orderly attention.

Though the room gave comfortable accommodation to eighty children, it soon became "too strait." A larger one was sought; and, as a substitute for a better, an old stable was taken and fitted up for the purpose.

It was soon found that the children lost much of what they gained on the Sabbath, by having no other employment or amusement but that afforded by vice and crime during the other six days of the week. To remedy this evil, when the old stable was ready, the school was opened every day. It was soon filled to overflowing, for every child was made welcome, however ragged or destitute.

The first summer's instruction had closed; dark December had arrived, with it cold nipping frosts, which told powerfully on the half-naked bodies and unshod feet of the children. Their ankles and feet were very often chapped and bleeding; ýet, suffering as they did, nothing would keep them from the school. Why? Because the teacher was kind, and the hand of kindness was held out by all who met them there.

Our hearts were often grieved to witness them shivering in the cold, and especially as we could render them no assistance, for it was with great difficulty that sufficient funds were raised to carry on the school. We have seen many of the children taken ill and die, through exposure to the inclemency of the weather.

Poor James S! We shall never forget his death-bed scene. Cold settled on his lungs, which ended in rapid consumption. When we first visited him, he was lying in the corner of a cheerless room, upon dirty straw. The mother provided a chair, the only one in the room, and it was broken. A large deal box stood in the middle of the floor, which served as a table. The mother was both dirty and ragged. James said he was dying, and that he was going to Jesus. He requested us to read the Bible to him, that he might learn more about the Saviour. The next day that we visited the little sufferer we found him much worse. He had a brother and sister, for whose welfare he showed much anxiety. He first said to his brother, "You must pray for a new heart;" and told his sister to go to school, where she would learn about Christ and the way to heaven. Then, fixing his glazed eyes upon his father and mother-for they were both in the room, looking on their dying boy, for the last time-poor James said, with a faltering voice, "Oh! mother, will you give up drinking, and go to chapel, and pray for a new heart; I want to meet you in heaven; do, mother." The mother's heart was full-tears ran down her squalid cheeks. We had often made

the same request to her, but our words fell upon her ears like rain-drops on the rock. But the voice that now spoke, broke open the well-springs of her heart; like a voice from the grave, it came from the lips of her own boy, which were soon to be closed in death. The accusations of a guilty conscience added force to the request of the dying child, for she knew that his disease was the effect of her own neglect, through intemperate habits; and that, through his short and sharp existence, from her he had experienced more of a parent's negligence than a mother's care.

When he had a little recovered-for he was very feeble, and could scarcely articulate he told his father he would soon leave him, but he was going to his heavenly Father. Looking wistfully at him, he continued, "Will you give up swearing and bad words, father, and read the Bible, and go to a place of worship, and pray to God to give you a new heart, and I shall meet you in heaven?" The father could not answer the child, but stood wiping away the tears with the sleeve of his tattered flannel jacket; but the mother answered for him, and, kissing the child, she said, "He will, James-yes, he will!"

Poor little James knew that Mary, in thenext room, who had been his school companion, was very ill of the same complaint. He requested his mother to carry him to see her, for the last time. On seeing the little girl, who he kissed with much tenderness, he said, that Jesus loved her, and then bade her farewell.

He was brought back again, but his work was not yet done. He had a grandmother, whom had treated him kindly when in health, but was not then present to hear, from his own lips, his dying counsel, but we were requested to convey to her the following message: 'Tell grandmother to give up buying things on Sunday, and read the big Testament you gave her, and go to chapel."

We closed this affecting scene by offering up prayer to God in behalf of the little sufferer. In one short hour afterwards, the Saviour took home to himself this the first ripe fruit gathered from our labors in the Old Stable.