ment as well as without, by foes to cavil, as by friends to learn, I take the opportunity thus afforded, to point out to those who are yet accessible to Protestant, or rather scriptural information, what the apostle Paul says of some at Rome, during his abode there.

He was now a prisoner, waiting for the judgment of Cæsar, on the appeal which Paul made to him from the Sanhedrim and the Roman governor, Felix, at Cæsarea. The apostle was living in the Prætorium, or the camp at Rome, though in his own hired house, and the resort of Jews and Christians to him, and his discourses to them, made a noise in all the Prætorium, and spread into all other parts of this metropolis of the world. The Christian religion, therefore, ceased to be the same dangerous secret, as at first; and the things which happened to the apostle, in his being sent a prisoner to Rome, turned out, not to the injury, but rather to the furtherance of the gospel. For truth, says Tertullian, dreads nothing but concealment. Many of the brethren in the Lord, becoming confident by the apostle's bonds, in which he preached boldly, no man forbidding him, were the more bold to preach the word fearlessly.

But now comes the strange discovery, that some, who seem to be classed with brethren in the Lord, preached for the sake of indulging envy and strife. What sort of brethren in the Lord must they have been if they are thus introduced inclusively, and not exceptively? At any rate they are said to have preached Christ, in which the apostle rejoiced; and, therefore, they must have professed to believe in Christ. But what sort of believers, what sort of preachers, were they who preached for the sake of envy and strife? Envy at whom? At the apostle. Envious at the resort to him in the Prætorium! For strife and contention to preach Christ; not ȧyvwç, not chastely, purely, sincerely; but thinking to bring affliction upon him in addition to his chains! We are confounded at the

But the apostle says, Christ may be preached in pretence, and not in truth; though in every way in which he may be preached, Paul rejoiced; for, as he found his bonds turned to the furtherance of the gospel, so he expected that this bolder and more general preaching would turn to salvation, through the prayers of the Philippians and "the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ."

What, now, does this teach us concerning the primitive Christians, who have been so much vaunted, as if whatever they did must be right? Is it not plain, that among the very earliest professors,-aye, and among the earliest preachers, too,-we must distinguish between the good and the bad; the sincere and the pretenders; those who preached Christ from good will, and those who preached from contention and strife? It is manifest that we must not be satisfied with knowing what they did, but must inquire what they ought to have done. And how shall we know this, but from the infallible Scriptures?

It is to the honour of the Scriptures, and to show their sincerity and the necessity for studying them, that these evils among the earliest professors and preachers are recorded. A book of imposture would have gilded a rotten post; lauded all primitive Christians; and told posterity that all who first preached Christ were saints; this would have been in harmony with the genius of apostate Rome. She never would have told the world, that some who preached Christ in her streets while Paul was a prisoner in her Prætorium, were doing it in pretence,

ing to make his bonds an affliction, because they were at liberty to go where they pleased, while he was under state surveillance. Oh, no; all her first preachers were saints!

But the New Testament tells of an Ananias and Sapphira, in the mother church at Jerusalem; of a Demas," that has forsaken us, having loved the present evil world;" and of the apostle at his first answer before Cæsar, at Rome, forsaken of all men: no one standing by him. "I pray God," says the apostle, "it may not be laid to their charge." O, infallible church! "Ichabod," where was the glory?

But Christianity can afford to be honest, if Popery cannot. Truth remains the same, though all men forsake it. Let God be true, if all men are liars. Popery must canonise sinners; but Christianity can anathematise them. The Scriptures describe men as we find them—strange creatures. Sometimes openly persecuting religion; sometimes nobly suffering for it; and sometimes-O, monstrous !-exposing themselves to suffering through it, but not for it; having contention and strife and pretence in their hearts.

While these things happened at Rome, where was Peter, the first bishop, from whom the Pope derives by unbroken succession (with three Popes at a time anathematising each other) his infallibility? Why, mirabile dictu! the only inspired history of the Christian church never shows him there at all. The Pope sends him there, before Paul arrived. What! the prince of the apostles sitting in his infallible chair, at the centre of unity, and suffering the brethren to preach, and, from contention, thinking to add affliction to a brother apostle's bonds! This is like Paul sending an epistle to Rome, in which there is a most remarkably long list of salutations to numerous brethren, and not one word is addressed to Peter! If he had gone out for an itinerating tour in the country, one would have expected to read, "Give my love to him when he returns!" But all

while Paul is thus treated! Who can believe that he was there? And who that takes the Scriptures for his guide can believe that Peter ever was bishop at Rome, or ever went there at all?

But preaching among the brethren for contention and strife, reminds us of Jeremy Taylor's liberty of prophesying. Verily there must have been considerable liberty of preaching, when Paul wrote these words. And he says nothing against it, only condemning those who preached from evil motives, though still rejoicing that Christ was preached. And so important is it for men to hear of him, that he who is endued with the spirit of the apostles will not attempt to introduce a conventicle act; but will say, it will turn to salvation, through the prayers of the church, and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ.

But I turn again to Rome. "O, Rome!" said the barbarian ambassador, who had witnessed its venality, "I could buy thee, if I were but so rich as to bid high enough." Here we find the strangest, if not the vilest preachers of Christ, in the very age of the apostles. There is nothing in all the New Testament so unaccountable as these preachers of strife, preaching Christ to vex his apostle! Was it for nothing that this was recorded? One would think the Popes had purposely acted this over again, and had called themselves successors of St. Peter, to vex the apostle in heaven, at the sight of such successors.

Ah, let us not wonder, if the worst things were found, at the earliest and at the later times, in such a capital. It was called the cesspool of the world, whither all that was vile resorted, to hide its infamy in the crowd. A vast capital affords the best concealment, and the finest field for deceptive display. There is no place like London for popular nonsense. There the gift of tongues flourished, under the patronage of him who pronounced “ Babylon foredoomed of God," and who is succeeded by those who set up the crucifix, display the surplice, and call theirs the catholic chapel. Who can wonder

formed in them the hope of glory." Well, now, the letters, the letters, the letters from our dear sister missionaries! I look, and look, but look and look in vain. Not one epistle, not one line, not one word on this head. Now and then a private letter, disclosing what should be concealed, and concealing what ought to be visible as the impression of the ink, I mean the characteristics of missionary grace and feeling in every line.

Then, thirdly, I begin to feel. I feel surprised beyond measure-I feel jaded with the look of fruitless expectation-I feel grieved at my own mortifying disappointment-I feel disgusted for the loss of the poor girls of British patrons, and for the sinking reputation of the female missionaries, so called.

Then, fourthly, I do talk to myself, and ask and answer myself, Are these the women who made such strong and elevated professions?-yes, are these the women who raised such high expectation?-yes, and these the women who were equipped, and married, and sent out in consequence?—yes, verily they are. What good deed, then, have we heard of them?-none. What are they doing?— I don't know. What have they done?nothing that I have heard of. Then I talk to myself again, and ask, Were they good women?—I thought so, and hoped it. How do they show it?-I can say nothing to that. I can only say in what manner they do not show it. Was their love to the mission, or to the man ?-I can say nothing to that, unless I judge by actions. Will the blood of the poor heathen be required of them, for not doing all they might and ought?—I don't know they have not done all they could, only if they have, it has not been told by themselves or others; and if they have neglected their duty, they must see to that, for they will find hereafter that God will reckon with them. Then, I talk again to myself and say, I should like for them to do well, and even to excel, not only for the dear heathen children's sakes, and for their own sakes and their families, but for the sake of the missionary cause,

and my own sake too, for I love them, I took a lively interest in them. Some of them were under my pastoral care, they received the Lord's supper at my hands, they called themselves my spiritual children. I took pains with them, and was deeply concerned for their best interest. And all the rest bore good characters in England, belonged to respectable churches and pastors, were all commended by them to God, and their wellbeing and well-doing fervently prayed for. And then I say to myself, O that I were ten years younger! I would after all go and see them, and provoke them to every possible exertion, both by preaching and example. But I say again, I shall never see Tahiti, and I do not wish to see them here; for if they are unfruitful, we have enough of that sort already; and if it is otherwise with them, their lives and labours are too important to be dispensed with there; I would rather meet them in heaven than in England.

Now, fifthly, I listen-a letter having been presented to Mrs. Giles, the senior female missionary, her sister missionaries assemble to learn its contents. It is read-a pause ensues; I hear one say, "How very severe ! it is like Mr. Wilks; he is always tasking us." Another says, "He little thinks of the languor of our spirits, under a vertical sun." A third says, "Does he ever paint to himself the difficulties we have to encounter, from the customs of these savage islanders?" I hear another say, "The language is indeed cutting; but is there not a cause? has our conduct been as it ought? have we done for the poor heathen girls what we could? It is very true, the climate and character of the people present many obstacles, but you know Mr. Wilks pointed them out to us, and warned us against their influence; so that, for my own part, I must confess I have an accusing conscience, and this cuts deeper than reproof from the lips of man. Suppose we were to adopt a more regular system of employment, somewhat conformable to the following outline:—that each of us take a certain number of girls,