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as illustrative of the powerful effect of religion in subduing and changing the savage character.

The settlers on this location, which I understood was tried as an experiment, consisted, I believe, of about twelve or fifteen families of the most uncivilized bushmen that were to be met with in the Colony. On their first coming, they were in miserable circumstances of destitution and ignorance, and lived for some time on bulbs, and roots of trees, and other produce of the forest, or occasionally on the flesh of quaggas, which they killed in hunting. About three years ago, Mr. Read commenced visiting them periodically, holding his services under a native tree, which was pointed out to us; but so averse did the people seem to his visits, that he was a long time listened to with careless indifference, and often received by them with forbidding and suspicious looks. Indeed, notwithstanding the well-known zeal and perseverance of this worthy Missionary, so disheartening and hopeless did the work appear to him, that he was on the point of abandoning the location in despair, when he observed a female apparently much affected by his exhortations. She shortly afterwards made him a visit, earnestly sought his advice, and became a decided convert to Christianity. She was soon followed by others, and ultimately the whole location became devout and eager attendants at his religious services. They then ingeniously constructed a wooden plough, which is still in use at the location, and cultivated a small portion of their land, with such seed grain as they could obtain, and began to build houses; since which, such has been their industry, that scarcely a spot of arable ground on their location is now uncultivated. They have raised a building, which answers the purpose of a chapel and a school, in which a well attended school is now held. They have thrown off their sheep skins for articles of European clothing, and are repaid by prospering, and advancing in religion and civilization." Last year the people subscribed £30 to the London Missionary Society.


"Mr. Buyers preached in one of the villages of Benares to nearly two hundred people, many of whom were Brahmins. All heard with attention while he expounded the Decalogue, showing the extent and spirituality of its claims, the fact of men being unable now to satisfy these claims, and the way of deliverance from condemnation through the atonement made by the Son of God. After he had finished, there was a moment's pause, when a Brahmin, who had listened with apparent interest all the time, exclaimed, Blessing! blessing! blessing on Sahib, who comes to give us such instructions,' A great many

voices immediately joined and repeated his words five or six times; and one man, holding up both his hands, called out, Cursing! cursing! cursing! on all the Purans.' To hear a Brahmin, in the midst of Benares, the grand seat of Eastern idolatry, pronouncing a blessing on the Gospel, and the bearers of its message, and joined by, perhaps, a hundred of his fellow-citizens; while another, loudly and publicly denounced, as cursed, the Shasters, adored for so many ages through the whole of Hindostan, could not but gladden his heart, and strengthen the hope that the time is rapidly approaching when this great and renowned city will cast its thousands of idols to the moles and to the bats, and rejoice in the light and liberty of the Gospel."


The following characteristic and instructive letter, was addressed by one of three Native Teachers in the island of Oneata, to his brethren in the Navigators, and forwarded by one of the trading canoes which sail between the latter islands and Tongataboo.

Oneata, 30th January, 1834. Dear Teachers,-May you be saved by God, even our Lord Jehovah, and by Jesus Christ, the King of peace! We are compassionating you under the trials you have to endure. But, perhaps, the word of God has begun to grow where you are. Reveal to us a little word that we may know. We have been treated very ill in this land. They talked of killing us, that the word of life might not grow here; but we do not fear such words. We desire you to compassionate us, and not to feel unconcerned about us. Pray for us, that peace may be given

us from on high, like yourselves, for this is a land to make afraid, and we are in the midst of troubles. The king of this land desires not the word of God. Tuaw, the chief, is a kind chief notwithstanding, in giving us food, &c. A land this of frightful faces; they besmear their faces with charcoal. We have left Lakeba, the land of the chief, and have moved to Oneata, where we now reside with patience. A few men at Oneata have begun to pray. Pora is one, and Turaavi, and Va and Atota, and a considerable number more men are praying.

Dear Umia, may you be saved by God! I cherish affection for you We are very destitute in this land of all kinds of comfort for the



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Awake, awake my tuneful lyre,

Let praise to God thy notes inspire

Who rules the universal sphere;

Hours, days, and months, still urge their way,
Days that appear, yet never stay,
And mark the rolling year.

He from His bright celestial throne,
On all the race of man looks down,

On mighty monarchs and the humble poor;
All wait on Him and all on Him depend,
The bounteous Giver and the constant Friend,
Whose promise never fails, whose word is ever sure.
Like vapoury clouds that speed their airy way,
So man, vain man, the creature of a day,

Glides on, scarce seen, and quits his earthly place;
The sun that fills his ample bound,
Enlightens still the globes around,
But man soon ends his race!

Oh! who can tell life's future tale,
What prosperous breeze may fan the sail,
What storms may wreck our fairest joys?
Near pain, the tree of pleasure grows;
He braves the thorn who plucks the rose,
And oft a sudden shock our peace destroys.

Be mine to trust the hand Divine,

That erst bade suns and planets shine,

And calls the winter's frost and summer's showers;

He smiles, and joys luxuriant grow,

He frowns, and floods of sorrow flow,

And desolate our fairest bowers!

The man prepared for future harms,
Stands fearless still midst all alarms,
Pursues the path of duty and of peace;

And when life's varied scene shall end,
Joy shall his happy soul attend,

And all his sins and cares and sorrows cease.

R. C.


DARK is the night of death, and dark the tomb;
But oh, how bright, serenely bright, that morn,
When the freed spirit bursts the bands of death,
And wakes to light, to happiness and God.
On that young morn no clouds shall dimness shed;
Nor shall the sun its dazzling lustre pour,

To scathe the tender herb. No sun is there !-
But He, who gave the sun his golden beams,
Who bade him roll the darkness from the earth,
When first it basked beneath his gladsome ray;
He, who the spring with gayest vestments clad
To greet the new-born radiance-He is there :
And from His throne a stream of light and joy,
Forth issuing, sheds its bright effulgence round.

Who then shall backward look upon the tomb, And shrink, when thinking of the night of death? For what is death, the ransomed Christian's death? 'Tis the bright herald of a glorious morn

All radiant with delight.-'Tis but the veil
That shades the beams of glory, else too bright,
That break around the new-born sons of God,
As from this world of woe they haste to join
The gladsome throng whose harps are ever tuned
To richest notes of melody and love,

To Him, who deigned to wear a mortal form,
That He might raise mortality to light!

Oh, let the winding-sheet be wrapt around
The clay-cold remnants of mortality!
And let the fun'ral pall conceal the worm
That revels on its dust-We joy in Him,
All bright and glorious who redeemed mankind,
And promised in His image man should rise!
This is the joy no human tongue can speak,
Or mortal pen reveal! To be with Christ!

Could we but know what gain it is to die,
How would the soul stand with her wings outstretch'd
And ready poised, to cut the liquid air,

When she, the welcome messenger should greet.

The ransomed die but once! a second death
Waits the impenitent and unrenewed !

Oh! thou Almighty Being, who hast said,
That all who would, might taste thy grace and live,
And that the sinner who would seek thy face
Thou never would'st reject. Oh grant that I,
Unworthy though I be, and all my house,
May be brought nigh; and by thy Spirit taught
To taste thy great salvation. Then shall we
Escape that final doom, the second death ;
And dying find indeed" to die is gain !"



How often has the gloom which spread
Above the Christian Pilgrim's head,
And darkened all his earthly way,
Like Israel's beacon, cloud by day;
Changed as the hour of death drew nigh
To flame, that streamed along the sky,
And lit his footsteps through the night
With holy fire and heavenly light.

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