and then ended with prayer. They solicited him to return on the sabbath morning; he did so, and, as he hopes, under the influence of the Holy Spirit. The master gratefully accepted of a bible; for though the Gipsies could not read, a little boy was among them, who was not a Gipsy, that could read remarkably well, having been taught at a Sunday school at Hastings, in Sussex. They all joyfully anticipated the pleasure of going to the Rev. J. Carter's Chapel, of Braintree, in the afternoon, but met with a disappointment, arising from an unexpected decampment. About one month after, in the latter end of November, two Gipsy women called on the narrator, earnestly entreating him to go and preach to them, which they called conversation. Asking the reason, why they entreated this favour? their answer was, 'We have heard much about your conversation, sir, and we should like to hear it. Come, do come, and we will be all ready to receive you.' Asking who they were that told them of the conversation just mentioned, they said, 'some of our people, Sir, that you were with about a month since. They told us a great deal about your conversation, and we should so much like to hear it. Oh! sir, do come to us poor creatures, for we have an invitation for you, if you would condescend to take it, to meet with the Gipsies on Christmas day.' That night, the narrator walked a few miles to their camp, and in their smoky tent preached Jesus Christ the only way of salvation, to these poor, despised, neglected creatures. After being with them two hours and a half, he bade them farewell, and going behind a hedge, anxious to know what effect the new unheard of doctrines would produce on their minds, he listened for a short time. In the midst of conversation with each other, one of them said, 'Well, I know this, if I could get a house near where that gentleman lives, and could live by my business, I would send all my children to that school there, and hear him as long as ever I could live.' While they were conversing about Adam and Eve, and the evil effects of sinning against God; one of the women said, 'However, you see, all the punishment that us women get, is sorrow and pains in child-bearing.' 'Stop, stop,' says one of the men, 'that won't do, Ann, that won't do. If sorrow and pains in child-bearing be all the punishment that women are to have, what punishment must those women have that do not bear children? You are quite wrong, Ann; you women are as bad as _us_.' This led on to a further discovery, and the conversation among themselves was truly interesting. "One of the children telling a lie, the mother touched it on the head, saying, 'What are you telling lies about? Have you forgotten what the gentleman said to night? You will go to hell, if you tell any more lies. Let me never hear you tell another, you bad lad, for God will not take you to heaven.'