care of the captain of the gang, and of his wife, the woman who could read. "Now, I said, let us all kneel down on the grass, and pray for God's blessing with this holy book. Instantly a female brought from her tent a small piece of carpet, and spread it before me on the grass, for me to kneel upon; and then all kneeling down, I prayed that the minds of these miserable outcasts of society might be enlightened, to discover the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the blessedness and efficiency of the Saviour; that the sacred book given them through the influence of the Holy Ghost, might lead them into the way of righteousness, and finally guide them to everlasting life. When we rose from our knees, gratitude was seen in every countenance, and expressed by every tongue. '_God bless you_, _sir_; _thank you_, _sir_;' echoed throughout the camp." The next evening this clergyman went again to the camp, when one of the Gipsies came to meet him, and informed him of the arrival of some of their relatives. "I shook hands with them," says the clergyman, "and asked of their welfare. Never was a king received with a more hearty welcome, or with greater attention and respect. "As I was expected, the utmost order, cleanliness, and quiet, prevailed throughout the camp; and all were dressed in their best clothes to receive me. The arrangement of my congregation was much the same as the preceding evening. I spoke to them of the blessed Jesus; his birth, his ministry, his death, passion, and grace; and his glory at his second coming _in the clouds of heaven_, _to judge the world in righteousness_. I spoke also of death, and of the immortality of the soul. "I had not proceeded far in my lecture, before several farmers and passengers, some on horse back, and others on foot, joined my congregation. "Before concluding my address, I said, 'It may seem singular to some of you that a stranger should interest himself on your behalf in the way I have done; and it might be expected that I should give some reasons for doing as I have. My chief reason is a sense of duty. Gipsies have long been neglected, and left to perish in their sins; but Gipsies have souls equally precious as others, and of equal price in the sight of God. Who, I asked, cares for the souls of Gipsies? who uses means for their instruction in righteousness? Yet must it be equally our duty to care for them, and to endeavour their conversion and happiness, as to plan societies, obtain subscriptions, and send out missionaries to the heathen.'