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‘ 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 gave 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, ,Iike 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 in- stance 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 ex- ceeding sinfulness of sin, and the greatness of the price which Christ Jesus paid for the sinner’s ransom. You can say in the words of the hymn, ‘ I the chief of sinners am, ‘ But Jesus died for me.’ ‘ O yes, Sir, me believe that Jesus died for poor Negro. What would become of poor wicked Negro if Christ no die for him ? But he die for the chief of sin- ners, and dat make my heart sometime quite glad.’ ‘ What part of the Bible were you reading ? ‘ Me read how de man upon decross spoke to Christ, and Christ spoke to him. Now dat man’s prayer just do for me. ' Lord remember me.’ Lord, remember poor Negro sinner; this is my prayer every morning, and sometime at night too, when me cannot tink of many words, then me say de same again, Lord, remem- ber poor Negro sinner.’