sailors, whatever they could find that was tolerably dry; over the heads of the congregation were hanging the wet clothes and uniforms. At six, dinner was served; we sat cross-legged, or on stools, along one end of the building; the cooks spread before us, as a table-cloth, leaves of the purau fresh plucked; to each person was given a cocoa-nut shell of sauce, composed of salt water and oil; the chief sat in the centre, the baked pig was brought on a tray, and placed opposite the chief. A cook, taking a small axe, made a longitudinal cut from the rump to the head, on each side of the back-bone, cutting through the ribs, then he removed the head, lastly he separated the quarters; the head and liver were presented to the chief, the remainder was divided into small portions, waiting for directions from the chief, who orders it to be served by putting it on a purau leaf, and placing it before the guest; at equal distances were distributed roasted breadfruit, taro, sweet potatoes, cocoa-nut, shells containing water, or cocoa-nut milk. The building was lighted by lamps made of cocoa-nut shells split in half, holding cocoa-nut oil and cotton wicks; three lamps gave a strong yellow light, with a fragrant perfume; after dinner we intended to sleep, and bedsteads were provided for the Missionaries, the chaplain, and myself; after I was lain down, the chief, by way of honour, commenced champooing my legs and arms, as described by Captain Cook. In a short time all were silent, except a few natives who sat round the light conversing; the silence was occasionally interrupted by stragglers, seeking for easier beds, tumbling over the sleepers; one of the first was Mr. Guthrie the surgeon, who had been honoured by a place on a mat between the chief and his wife; but the comfort was not equal to the honour, so he arose to seek another place; the musquitos, driven in by the rain, also caused much annoyance. On the 21st, after partaking of a breakfast similar to our yesterday's dinner, we departed, steering towards the east end of Tahiti. At two P. M. we rested our crews, by stopping to

dinner. At the place where we landed we saw seventy persons making cloth in one house; at sunset we arrived at Tiarei, the station of the Rev. Mr. Henry, missionary, and the residence of the Hitoti and Paofai chiefs; a new church was building under the direction of Hitoti; Mr. Henry's was an excellent house. On the 22d I ascended a hill behind the village; until I began to climb, I did not perceive its steepness, or the difficulty of ascent; a low fern grew on its side, about eighteen inches high, and the angle of inclination was near forty-five degrees; when at the top, the view was delightful: at noon we left Tiarei, sailing to the westward; at two P.M. we arrived at Point Venus, and, crossing the point, called upon the Rev. Mr. Wilson, the missionary at Matavai, where we dined. The church at this station is a long oval, built for a congregation of eight hundred persons; the church-yard is singular, being the only cemetery which has been generally adopted as a Christian burying-ground; the tombs were heavy rhomboids, of white stucco.

Walking from the church towards the point, an avenue or grove of orange-trees presents itself—a memorial of the spot where the first Missionaries established themselves, and were permitted to worship God through Christ; these trees they planted the building wherein they dwelt no longer exists, not a vestige of it is left, but their devotion is before the God who neither slumbereth nor sleepeth; the fruits of their labour will be gathered at the last day, when the Lord of hosts maketh up his jewels, and they discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not.

In the evening we rowed to the westward, passing Paré, and arrived on board the Seringapatam, having made the tour of Eimeo and Tahiti.

"THY KINGDOM COME."

A MISSIONARY HYMN.

BY JAMES MONTGOMERY.

SEND out thy light and truth, O God!
With sound of trumpet from above;
Break not the nations with thy rod,

But draw them as with cords of love:
Justice and mercy meet,

The work is well begun;
Through every clime their feet,
Who bring glad tidings, run;

In earth as heaven thy will be done.

* These verses are written in the metre, and to suit the tune of a hymn, composed and set to music (as it is reported) by Martin Luther, and sung by him and his companions as they entered the city of Worms, to appear at the diet of the empire; before which, though he had reason to fear treachery and cruelty equal to that experienced by his martyred predecessor, John Huss, at the council of Constance, he declared, when his friends would have dissuaded him from taking the hazard, that if there were as many devils there as tiles on the houses, he would go and face them.

A missionary hymn in the same hallowed measure cannot be unworthily attempted, though the stanza is difficult to adapt to English ideas of rhythm, being thoroughly German in construction.

Before thee every

idol fall,

Rend the false prophet's veil of lies;
The fulness of the Gentiles call,

Be Israel saved, let Jacob rise:

Thy kingdom come indeed,
Thy church with union bless,
All Scripture be her creed,
And every tongue confess

One Lord, the Lord our Righteousness.

Now for the travail of his soul,
Messiah's peaceful reign advance;
From sun to sun, from pole to pole,
He claims his pledged inheritance :
O thou most Mighty, gird
Thy sword upon thy thigh,
That two-edged sword, thy word,

By which thy foes shall die,

Then spring, new-born, beneath thine eye.

So perish all thine enemies,

Their enmity alone be slain;

Then in the arms of mercy seize,

Breathe, and their souls shall come again :
So may thy friends, at length,

Oft smitten, oft laid low,

Forth, like the sun, in strength,
Conquering, to conquer go,
Till to thy throne all nations flow.

Sheffield.

L

FOR ALL SOUL S.

PRAY for all souls:-nor yet defer the prayer,
Till to its great account the soul has fled.
This is the middle state, which must prepare
For heaven or hell. Pray for the living dead.

Pray for the heathen; millions, millions held
By this world's prince in abject vassalage;
Oh! when shall that gross darkness be dispelled
By the bright morning of the heavenly age?

Pray for Islam's proud slaves,—for Arab, Turk,
And Persian,-blinded by a specious lie.
Pray for the dupes of Satan's master-work,
The pseudo-church's foul idolatry.

Pray for the dead who have a name to live,
The christian, heathen, orthodox, profane.

Ask for thy brother life, and God will give
The prayed-for boon, nor shall thy faith be vain.

He who made all men, bids thee pray for all,

Prayer moves Omnipotence: prayer puts in force The promises of Heaven: its fervent call

Can make e'en nature change her wonted course.

This Golgotha of souls, this wide-spread death, Shall one day yield to Christ a glorious host: These dry bones shall inhale a quickening breath. O for that all-reviving Pentecost!