sense would say, It is impossible for this to be, because it involves a contradiction. But what if it were made an article of faith, that this lumpish stone was now changed into a brilliant star, although, to our senses, it still had all the properties of stone? Would not every man say, It is absurd to require us to believe in such a proposition? He would say, I am sure it is not so, for I see it to be the very same it was before you say the change in its substance took place. He takes it in his hand, and says, That which thus handle cannot be a star; a star is a body of vast magnitude, but this is so sinall that I can grasp it in my hand; a star is a beautiful, luminous body, but this is a dark and unsightly lump of ore. To which, upon the principles of our opponents, it might be replied, You must not, in this case, trust your senses; God is able to change the substance of this stone into a star, and yet all the accidents of the stone may remain as before; and as his word declares that such a change has occurred, you must, on pain of damnation, believe the divine declaration. This is as precisely analogous to the case of transubstantiation as anything we can imagine. It would not be more unreasonable to insist (nor half so much so), that the stone which you hold in your hand is a brilliant star of the first magnitude, as to believe that the small wafer of bread which the priest puts in your mouth, is the whole body of Christ; and not merely his flesh and blood, but his "soul and divinity." It would be in vain to allege, that a small piece of matter could not be a star, because the properties of the stone might be said to remain, while the substance was changed; and although to our senses it appeared to be nothing but a stone, yet, under these sensible properties, there lay concealed the substance of a brilliant star. For thus they pertinaciously insist, that although this wafer has, after consecration, all the properties of bread, and this liquid in the chalice has all the sensible properties of wine, which it ever had, yet, by the exertion of divine power, a great miracle is wrought every time the eucharist is celebrated, and the bread and wine are converted into the flesh and blood of the Lord Jesus Christ. True, it is admitted that we perceive nothing of flesh; but we must believe that our senses deceive us, and that that which, to our sight and taste, and touch and smell, seems to be a thin cake of wheaten bread, is really che flesh and blood of the Son of God.

4. The very action which this doctrine of transubstantiation supposes to be performed by every believing communicant, is one which is shocking to all the unadulterated feelings of human nature. The idea of feasting on human flesh is so abhorrent to our nature, that most people think they would rather perish with hunger, than preserve life by such unnatural food. This natural abhorrence of devouring our own species has for a long time rendered the world exceedingly incredulous about the existence of cannibalism. To the disgrace of our kind, the proof of the fact has become now too strong to admit of any further doubt; but still, when we read the narrative of the shocking feasts of the New Zealanders, it thrills us with horror, and our blood seems to be curdled in our veins. Now, to suppose that God would ordain that the flesh and blood assumed by his own eternal Son should be eaten and drunk daily, and that too as a part of our most solemn worship, is a thing so incredible in itself, that we doubt whether any evidence that can be conceived is sufficient to render it so probable, that, in opposition to this strong instinctive or natural aversion, we should receive it as a truth, and as an essential part of the service which God requires. It is true, our Lord spoke familiarly to the Jews about eating his flesh and drinking his blood, and declared such a manducation

of his body as essential to eternal life; but he could not have been here speaking of the eucharist, of which sacrament no intimation had yet been given. And surely Christ could not have discoursed to the Jews about an ordinance of which they could not have had the least idea. His words did, however, contain a prediction of the violent death which he knew he should die, and by which his body would be broken, and his blood poured out. As the Jews called for a sign from heaven, and referred to the bread which their fathers received in the wilderness, ⠀| Christ took occasion to let them know that the manna, concerning which they spoke, was a lively type of himself; that he was the true bread which came down from heaven; and to teach the necessity ¦¦ of faith in himself, he insists on the necessity of eating his flesh and drinking his blood, in order to eternal life. As the manna kept the people alive only by being eaten, so a participation, by faith, of, his atonement, was necessary to the salvation of men. Often Christ discoursed to the Jews, who were malignantly watching him, in a highly figurative manner; sometimes, that he might lead them on to a conclusion by which they condemned themselves: and at other times in just judgment for their per verseness, "that hearing they might hear and not understand, and seeing they might see and not perceive." The Jews had no idea of what Christ meant by eating his flesh and drinking his blood, and some of them understood his words literally; but they were not agreed in their interpretation of them, for it is written, "The Jews therefore strove among themselves saying, How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" Our Lord, knowing their true character, gave them no further explanation, but extended his former declaration, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day." When. however, he perceived that they were offended with what he had said, as entertaining some gross and carnal idea of his doctrine, to leave them without excuse, he intimated to them with sufficient plainness, that his language was not to be interpreted according to the literal meaning. "It is," said he, "the spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life." Now after this lucid exposition of the general import of this discourse, for any now to i insist upon a literal interpretation, of eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the Son of man, is to be more blind than the unbelieving Jews: for it is not probable that any of them were so stupid as to suppose that Christ meant nothing more by these expressions than a natural manducation of his flesh and blood; for they knew the law well enough to understand that all drinking of blood was forbidden, and the reason of the prohibition would apply to human blood with tenfold force. It would be just as reasonable to suppose, because Christ calls himself a shepherd, and speaks of his sheep of different folds. that he actually was engaged in tending a flock of sheep; yea, that he promised to sheep literally, a kingdom. Or, that he was really a door, or a vine; or that the Holy Spirit, whom he promised to believers, was "a well of water." There would be more excuse for having recourse to these words to prove the fact that Christ's body must be eaten and his bood drunk, if he had not precluded every gloss of the kind, by asserting that "the flesh profiteth nothing." As much as to say, If you could literally be come partakers of my flesh, that could not profit you. And again, "The words I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life." What can this mean,

but this, that his words were to be interpreted spiritually; and that, under the figure of eating his flesh and blood, he had represented spiritual blessings, connected with eternal life, which would be procured by his death and sufferings, and be made to nourish unto eternal life all who would believe in his name?

5. "The flesh profiteth nothing." There is much in these words deserving our attention, and which has a direct bearing on this subject. The eating of any flesh can have no effect to invigorate the spiritual life of the soul. Christ's body, although perfectly free from all the defilements of sin, consisted of particles of matter, otherwise it would not have been a body; and his body was derived from his mother by the power of the Holy Ghost, by whose operation it was produced, otherwise it would not have been a human body. Some heretics of old, and some enthusiasts of modern times, imagined that Christ did not receive his body from his mother, but all such opinions have ever been rejected by every branch of the catholic Church, and by the Romanists as well as others. Now, the body of Christ being material-his flesh formed and configurated like the flesh of other human bodies, and his blood also material and of the same qualities as the blood of other men, except that his whole body was uncontaminated with the stain of original or actual sin-it plainly follows that, however the flesh of such a body might, upon the principles of nutrition, invigorate or sustain the life of the body, it could not possibly, by being carnally eaten, proLote the health and purity of the immortal soul. If a man should eat nothing else but the flesh of Christ, and drink nothing else but his blood all his life, it would never improve the moral qualities of the immortal soul. The argument which our Lord uses so forcibly, to prove that that which enters into a man's stomach cannot defile his soul, is founded on the same principle as the one which we are now using. Material causes cannot directly affect the mind, either to purify or defile it. We cannot see, therefore, that the mere eating of the flesh of Christ's body, and drinking his material blood, could in itself, ex opere operato, have any more effect to produce or increase spiritual life, than the flesh and blood of any other person. We do not deny, however, that God can institute a connection between external acts and the communication of his grace; and if he had made eating Christ's flesh a means of grace, or the channel through which he communicated spiritual life, this act would stand precisely on the same footing with other ordinances; the efficacy of which depends, not on the act performed, but on the blessing of God, which can give efficacy to that which has none in itself. But is it probable, is it credible, that God would ever institute such an ordinance as this, by which we are bound, on the pain of the loss of salvation, to devour the flesh of the Son of God?

THE DYING YOUTH'S FAREWELL.

OH! take me out to see the fields,

The landscape and the sky,

And let me hear the little birds
Once more before I die!

I feel a stiffness in my limbs,

A faintness at my heart,

Which speaks too plainly, mother dear, That we must shortly part!

Bring me my hat and shepherd plaid
To shield me from the breeze;
And let me lean upon your arm,

To help my feeble knees.

It warms my heart to smell the fields,
And see the lambkins play,
And hear the joyous lintwhite sing
His sonnet on the spray.

Walk gently, gently, mother dear,
My limbs are stiff and sore;

I feel a sweetness in the air,
I never felt before.

Oh, sweetly smile yon mountains blue,
With summits towering high,

And beauteous are yon golden clouds
Slow sailing o'er the sky.

The sky resounds with music sweet,
And every bush and tree

Send forth their thrilling notes of love,
As if to welcome me!

And must I leave the friends I love,
And scenes so fond and dear?

I feel a sadness at my heart-
Forgive a parting tear.

But sweet as are those smiling scenes,
Oh! what are they to me,

To yon bright shore, where we shall dwell
From cares and trouble free?

The tempter's smile and wicked wile
Will pain our hearts no more
When we get to our Father's home-
To yonder happy shore!

Then fare-thee-well, my native vale!
Farewell bright earth and sky!
I've seen thy joyful, fond-loved smile
Once more before I die!

163

J. B. GORDON.

THE REV. CHARLES SIMEON. ALL our readers must have heard of the Rev. Charles Simeon of Cambridge, who long occupied a leading place among the Evangelical clergy of England. A partial memoir of his life, consisting chiefly of his correspondence, has just been published, and contaius many passages of extreme interest. In our next we will present our readers with the remarkable account given of his last illness and death. Meanwhile, they will be interested by the following incidents :—

"It was in July 1783, I was waiting in Horsleydown church-yard for a corpse, which I was engaged to bury, and for my amusement was reading the epitaphs upon the tomb-stones. Having read very many which would have been as suitable for Jews or heathens, as for the persons concerning whom they were written, I at last came to one that characterized a Christian:

When from the dust of death I rise,
To claim my mansion in the skies,
Ev'n then shall this be all my plea-

Jesus hath liv'd and died for me.'

Struck with the sentiment conveyed in the two last lines, I looked around to see if there were any one to whom God might render it the means of spiritual instruction. At a little distance I saw a young woman reading an epitaph, and called her to me, and addressed her nearly in these words, 'You are reading epitaphs, mistress; read that: when you can say the same from your heart, you will be happy indeed; but till then, you will enjoy no real happiness in this world or the next.' She read them without any apparent emotion; and then told me that a churchyard was a very proper place for her, for that she was much distressed. On my inquiring into the causes of her distress, she told me that she had an aged mother and two children; that she had ruined her health in labouring for them: and was now unable to support them. I immediately turned to some passages in my Bible, such as 'Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all (needful) things shall be added unto you; and endeavoured to turn her eyes to Him who gives rest to heavy laden souls. After having conversed with her about a quarter of an hour, the corpse arrived, and at my request she gave me her address. The next evening, about seven o'clock, I went to see her, and found the aged mother very ill of an asthma, the two little babes lying in bed, and the young woman sitting very disconsolate. Though I was no stranger to scenes of distress, at this sight I was overcome in a very unusual manner. I told them that I was unable to say anything which might administer comfort, and desired that they would join me in applying to the Father of mercies and God of all consolation. We fell upon our knees, and in a moment were bathed in tears; I could scarce utter my words through heaviness of heart, and the abundance of tears which flowed down my cheeks; and to almost every petition that I offered, Amen, Amen, Amen-God grant it may-Amen, Amen,' was the language both of their hearts and lips. I was too much affected to be able to converse with them; I therefore referred them to two or three passages of Scripture, and left them. The next evening, about the same time, I visited them again, and, as before, we wrestled in prayer with strong cries and floods of tears; nor was I any better able to converse with them than before, so deplorable did their situation appear, and to such a degree were all our hearts overwhelmed with sorrow. As before, I left a few scriptures for their consideration, that they might plead them in prayer with our promise-keeping God; and returned the third evening about the same hour; then I began with some conversation, and afterwards went to prayer, but though we were earnest, our whole souls were not drawn out as on the two preceding evenings. When we had risen from prayer, I sat down to talk with them, and after I had spoken a little time, the young woman addressed me to this effect, and as nearly as I can recollect, in these words: 'Now, sir, I will tell you what the Lord has done for me; when you called me in the church-yard (which was nearly two miles off her house), I had been there five hours; I went to my sister, who lives close by, to tell her my distress, but she, instead of assisting me at all, or even pitying my situation, Bent me away with reproaches; I thought God had utterly forsaken me, and left me and my children to starve, and that it did not signify what became of me; I found my misery insupportable, and therefore was determined to put an end to it; and at the instant you spoke to me, I was going to drown myself: thus I should in one moment have left my aged mother and my little helpless children without a friend in the world, and have plunged my own soul into irretrievable ruin. And now, sir, instead of

me.

despairing of bread to eat, I am enabled to see that God, who is the Father of the fatherless, and the Husband of the widow, is my friend; that Christ Jesus has washed me from all my sins in the fountain of his own blood; and that it is my privilege to be careful for nothing; and, blessed be God, I am enabled to cast all my care on Him who careth for I have hitherto laboured on the Lord's-day to support my family; and I now see how little I can do without the blessing of God: henceforward, by grace, I will never work again on the Sabbath, but devote it entirely to the service of God, the concerns of my soul, and the instruction of my children.' This was the last time of my seeing her during my stay in town; but on my return to town, about a year afterwards, I made inquiries of a gentleman who lived very near her, and whom I desired to watch over her conduct, and found that it had been perfectly consistent with the professions she had made to me of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ; that she was in every respect sober and discreet, and at all times regular in her attendance on the means of grace. Having heard this character of her as to the external conduct, I was very desirous of seeing whether the life of godliness also were in her soul, and went to visit her. At my entering into the house, she caught hold of my hand, utterly unable to speak, and I was apprehensive she would have gone off into a fit, through surprise and excess of joy. When she was composed, I asked her where her mother was; she told me that she had died about three months before; and that her departing words were, 'Come, Lord Jesus, I am ready if thou art willing; come, Lord Jesus:' and then, addressing the young woman, May God bless you, my dear daughter,' she expired without a groan. Such was the end of her who had been for years, I believe, a close walker with God.

"In the course of conversation, the young woman told me that she herself had, in the winter, been at the point of death, and that she was enabled to commit her children into the hands of her heavenly Father, without a doubt of his taking good care of them, and that she desired to depart and to be with Christ: in short, her whole conversation then, and at several times since when I have seen her, as well as her general character from those who live near her, have fully convinced me that her soul is quite alive to God; and I pray God it may continue so to the end.

"We may observe from hence, how mistaken those physicians and apothecaries are, who imagine that religious conversation with patients has a tendency to impede their cure. Here is a case where the woman was very ill in body, as well as distressed in mind, whom all the drugs in their dispensary could not have cured. When she had found Christ Jesus, that great Physician, healing her soul with the Balm of Gilead, her troubles immediately subsided, and her ' health was quickly re-established; for her susequent illness, in the winter, was of a very different nature."

So strong an impression did this event make on Mr. Simeon, that when alluding to it, just thirty years after, he says, "If my whole life had been spent without any other compensation than this, my labours had been richly recompensed."

"On one of the occasions of visiting this poor family," observes Mr. Preston, "Mr. Simeon, having been detained longer than usual by the deep interest which he felt in their state, joined the party assem bled at his relative's house so late, that his friends began to be jocular with him as to the cause of his absence. Ah,' said he, in narrating this, and with the usual fervid moulding of his face, I had meat to eat which they knew not of." He used to speak of

the invitation, which he had received at this period, to join in the festivities of his friends, as a plot kindly but ignorantly laid for diverting him from the over-intense pursuit of the objects which then lay nearest his heart. The deep interest which he felt in ministering to the spiritual necessities of this poor widow, was regarded by him as graciously appointed to counteract as it did more than counteract-the deadening influence of scenes and associations which he felt constrained to attend, but in which he had ceased to feel pleasure."

The name of König is familiar to not a few of Mr. Simeon's friends, who resided at Cambridge during the years 1808 and 1809. That young man, the only son of a rich merchant at Amsterdam, came over to England in the summer of 1807. He was received by Mr. Edward Simeon, his father's correspondent, and sent to his house in the Isle of Wight, partly for the sake of studying the English language, of which he then knew very little. The Rev. C. Simeon was then at St. John's, his brother's house in the island, having been ordered by his physicians to abstain altogether for some weeks from the exercise of his ministry-the first time that such restraint had been deemed necessary for him. It soon appeared that young König was destitute of true religion, and ignorant of its principles: but his appearance and manners were such as to invite kindly feeling and attention. Mr. Simeon's benevolent heart was drawn towards him, and he earnestly desired to win his soul for Christ. One day he was riding a few yards in advance of a party, of which König was one. König, seeing Mr. Simeon alone, rode up to join him; and perceiving that his lips were in motion, though he was not engaged in conversation, inquired, with his usual simplicity, 'what he was saying.' Mr. Simeon replied, I was praying for my young friend.' These words made a deep impression upon the interesting youth, and caused him to regard Mr. Simeon as one who was tenderly concerned for his welfare. His mind had, in fact, been prepared by the providence of God for this impression, which might otherwise have been transient: for just then he had been called to think on the subject of prayer by the following occurrence. The party, who were making the tour of the island, arrived at an inn, where König and another gentleman were necessitated to occupy a double-bedded room. That gentleman, before retiring to rest, knelt down to prayer by his bed-side. This, it afterwards appeared, was a new sight to the young Hollander: but it went to his heart. He had long been unhappy, from feeling the unsatisfactoriness of the things which are ordinarily accounted capable of conferring happiness, but knew not the better way. Immediately however, as he afterwards declared, he said to himself, How happy is that man! What would I give to feel myself in the hands of an almighty guide and protector, as he surely does! Under this conviction he fell upon his knees, which he had not before done in private for years; and the very next morning he unbosomed himself to his companion. He was thus prepared for the reply of Mr. Simeon to his inquiry, and was not repelled, but encouraged, by it. The watchful shepherd, perceiving that the Spirit of God had marked this stranger for himself, resolved to do all in his power to train him for happiness and usefulness. After a sojourn of some weeks in the island, he invited him to take up his residence at Cambridge; and there, for months, did he spend no small portion of the day in cultivating the mind of this young foreigner, and storing it with divine and human knowledge. The improvement of the scholar in other useful knowledge, but especially in spiritual

165

discernment and devout feeling, was such as amply to repay his generous teacher. Indeed, his progress || in the divine life was rapid, and soon put to shame some who had contributed to the happy result. In a tour through England and Scotland, which he subsequently made, Mr. König, not content with seeing and reporting upon the ordinary objects of interest to a traveller-of which, however, he was a diligent observer-explored, as he went, the abodes of misery, the infirmaries, and the cottages of lonely poverty— ministering to the sufferers instruction and consolation, as well as pecuniary relief.

"The remembrance of that youth, graceful in person and beaming with benignity, is even now redolent with everything lovely and of good report. He was, in fact, ripening for early removal to a higher sphere. He returned to Holland, where he died.of consumption; but not till he had been permitted and enabled to witness for his Saviour a good confession in his native city. The report of his behaviour during his death-illness excited considerable interest and surprise in Amsterdam, where his family was well known. Many, it has been stated, seemed to say, 'What new thing is this?'

"Such blessings from above seemed to precede and follow this good man (Mr. Simeon), even when he was sent, as it were, into the desert. Surely his steps were ordered by the Lord, who delighted in his way!' How aptly might be applied to him the sentiments of Bishop Horne, speaking of the conversion of the Ethiopian eunuch: He who sent Philip to a desert place, did not send him there for nought; but raised a fair and fragrant flower, which, having bloomed for its appointed time on earth in the beauty of holiness, now displays its colours and diffuses its odours in the paradise of God;-who, whenever He pleases to bless the labours of His servants, can cause the wilderness and the solitary place to be glad for them, and the desert to rejoice and blossom as the

rose!'

THE DAY WILL DECLARE IT.

"I will tell you" (says Mr. Simeon, in a letter to a friend), "how I habitually view the deversified dispensations of our heavenly Father towards his children.. I see a man of great intelligence and skill take a great number of stones, and I ask him, What are you going to do with those stones? The answer given me is, 'Wait and see.' I then behold him making a furnace as hot as ever Nebuchadnezzar's was, both under the stones and above them, and I ask, 'What is that for?' The answer as before is, 'Wait and see." By-andby I see a caldron filled with liquid extracted from these stones; and I ask, 'What in all the world have you got here? The same answer is made me again. In my cogitations, I am almost ready to impute folly to him for taking so much pains about them at all.

"But on being again admitted to his presence, I see him put into the caldron a tube, and take a little of the melted product out of it, and blow it; and then I see him put that little blown portion into a furnace, made on purpose for it, and blow it again, and repent that process five or six times afterwards, and reduce this little portion of melted stuff to a vast globe and then I see him whirl that globe round with such velocity as was calculated, in my

BENEFITS TO FOREIGNERS FROM THE SOUTH SEA MISSIONS.

(From Pritchard's " Missionary's Reward.") NUMEROUS benefits accrue to foreigners, by the change which the gospel has effected in Polynesia. The temporal benefits are not few nor unimportant. Many valuable lives have been preserved. "The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." It may be justly said of the heathen, that "their feet are swift to shed blood."

A few years ago, the Charles Eaton, a merchant ship, on her voyage from Canton to Calcutta, was wrecked on a detached reef in Torres Straits, between New Holland and New Guinea. The shipwrecked people, including the captain, his wife and children, with a number of passengers, landed by rafts on an island in the Straits, and all of them, with the exception of four boys, amongst whom was the youngest son of the captain, and five of the crew who escaped to Timor, were cruelly massacred by the barbarous natives. What a different reception they would have had if that island had been blessed with the gospel of peace! "Instead of being met, as they landed, with the murderous club, they would have been welcomed and cheered by sympathy and succour; instead of a grave, they would have found a home, as comfortable as the resources of the island could make it; instead of their countrymen being sent to search for their mangled bodies and unburied bones, the natives would have worked to assist them in providing means of returning to their friends, even though such efforts should have met with no other compensation but forgetfulness." Similar deeds of murder have been perpetrated on many of the islands, but where they have been favoured with Christian instruction they have learned to behave kindly to foreigners in astress, and to mitigate the calamity of shipwreck. In many instances they have proved themselves to be the true friends of humanity, and have merited the esteem and gratitude of the benevolent in every part of the world. Had the Sandwich Islanders been as they now are, would the brave, enterprising, and scientific Captain Cook have fallen a sacrifice to their cruelty on Hawaii? Had the Samoans been under the influence of gospel principles, would M. De Langle, the companion of La Perouse, and eleven of his crew, have been barbarously murdered at Tutuila?

There are but few islands among those yet in a heathen state, where ships dare venture to anchor, or even to send a boat on shore. When foreigners do attempt to have intercourse with them, it is always at the risk of life. They are not safe one moment.

The very time when the natives appear most friendly, is the time to suspect them. They feign great friendship, to get the foreigners off their guard, that they may with the greater ease carry out their de signs of plunder and death. But on those islands where they have received the gospel, ships may go with perfect safety. If a captain is recommended to go to some island with which he is not acquainted. the first question that he usually asks is, "Are there any missionaries there?" If he is informed that missionaries are there, he will go with the greatest confidence. The following is an extract from a letter written by a Swedish gentleman who had made se veral voyages in the Pacific. In my former voyage. || touched at one of the Navigator's Islands, but I found the people so fierce and hostile that I feared to land, and was glad to make all sail from their shores. In the second instance, the same people received me with affection, traded with me fairly, and I felt my person and property secure in their hands. In the interval your missionaries had settled here, and to their influence I was indebted both for my safety and

success."

The property of foreigners is protected. When the ship Falcon, an American whaler, was wrecked or Rurutu, an island about three hundred miles south of Tahiti, the natives not only treated kindly the captain and all his crew, but cheerfully rendered all the assistance in their power in saving as much as pos sible of the wreck. The captain has declared that not a single article of clothing was taken from any man belonging to the ship, though they had it in their power to plunder them of every thing that was landed.

A little before I visited Rarotonga, an American trading brig had been wrecked on the reef. By the prompt assistance of the natives, who are remarkably expert in the water, many things belonging to the wreck were saved. These things remained in the charge of the natives many months. The captain told the missionaries that he had not missed so much as a bit of rope, or an old nail. Had these two vessels been wrecked on some parts of the British coast, it is a question if so favourable a report could have been! given of the honesty of the persons into whose hands these wrecks would have fallen.

Another very considerable advantage to foreigners is the great facility with which ships may now obtain supplies. There is an immense number of English and American whalers daily traversing the great Pacific. These voyages are usually very long, fre quently from three to four years, consequently it is of the highest importance that they should have the means of occasionally obtaining fresh provisions. Since the gospel has been introduced to so many islands, these means of obtaining supplies are afford ed; the health of the seamen is thereby preserved, and much time saved. Whether in the northern or southern hemisphere, they may, without leaving the whaling ground, put into some of the harbours, where they can be furnished with fresh beef, pork, fowls and fish, potatoes, yams, and other vegetables, with an abundance of fruits. In addition to what they consume while in port, they can obtain a good supply of live stock, vegetables and fruits, for their use at sea; and most of these things may be procured at a much lower rate than in many other parts of the world. At most of the islands a good supply of excel lent water may be procured free of expense, and an abundance of fire-wood at a very moderate price.

In addition to these temporal advantages arising from the change effected in Polynesia, there are spiritual benefits which foreigners may enjoy. While the ships are in port, the crews have opportunities of attending the means of grace. The missionaries not