; and ye are Christ's;
and Christ is God's."

I cast my eye downwards a little to the left towards a small cove, the
shore of which consists of fine hard sand. It is surrounded by fragments
of rock, chalk-cliffs, and steep banks of broken earth. Shut out from
human intercourse and dwellings, it seems formed for retirement and
contemplation. On one of these rocks I unexpectedly observed a man
sitting with a book which he was reading. The place was near two hundred
yards perpendicularly below me, but I soon discovered by his dress, and
by the black colour of his features contrasted with the white rocks
beside him, that it was no other than my Negro disciple, with, as I
doubted not, a Bible in his hand. I rejoiced at this unlooked-for
opportunity of meeting him in so solitary and interesting a situation. I
descended a steep bank, winding by a kind of rude staircase, formed by
fishermen and shepherds' boys, in the side of the cliff down to the
shore.

He was intent on his book, and did not perceive me till I approached very
near to him.

"William, is that you?"

"Ah, massa! me very glad to see you. How came massa into dis place? Me
tought nobody here, but only God and me."

"I was coming to your master's house to see you, and rode round by this
way for the sake of the prospect. I often come here in fine weather, to
look at the sea and shipping. Is that your Bible?"

"Yes, sir; {105} dis my dear goot Bible."

"I am glad," said I, "to see you so well employed. It is a good sign,
William."

"Yes, massa, a sign that God is goot to me; but me never goot to God."

"How so?"

"Me never tank him enough; me never pray to him enough: me never remember
enough who give me all dese goot tings. Massa, me afraid my heart is
very bat. Me wish me was like you."

"Like me, William? Why, you are like me, a poor helpless sinner, that
must, as well as yourself, perish in his sins, unless God, of his
infinite mercy and grace, pluck him as a brand from the burning, and make
him an instance of distinguishing love and favour. There is no
difference; we have both come short of the glory of God: all have
sinned."

"No, me not like you, massa; me tink nobody like me,--nobody feel such a
heart as me."

"Yes, William, your feelings, I am persuaded, are like those of every
truly convinced soul, who sees the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the
greatness of the price which Christ Jesus paid for the sinner's ransom.
You ca