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bility. Thus happily escaped from the contradictions of controversy, the soul breathes the pure serene air of evangelical truth. And how unspeakably comforting is it to the members of her communion, and, above all, to her ministers, to feel and be persuaded that this is the natural climate of the Church of England.

Monday, December 4th.-Having made a few remarks on the subject at our morning family prayers, I preached yesterday on the "be sober, be vigilant," of St. Peter; applying the first warning to the true doctrine of the holy Eucharist, as held by the Church of England, and as opposed to the unscriptural extravagances of the Romanists, and the almost equally unscriptural coldness and rationalism of the Puritans: and referring the last warning to the second Advent of our blessed Lord, which the commemoration of His first Advent is peculiarly calculated to bring to our minds. I then administered the Lord's Supper to our little party, with the exception of one, who was prevented by illness from attending Divine Service. Mr. Morant preached a very sound and good sermon in the afternoon. A quiet walk and talk, a quiet

dinner, and our evening family prayers, concluded the first Sunday ever passed by a Bishop in this remote spot. In the course of the past week I have had much conversation on religious subjects with Mr. who is

evidently most anxious to find the truth, and not, I trust, without profit to us both. Indeed, I consider that my time has been as well employed here, in the jungle, as at any place in the Diocese. To confirm the minds of a few, may, with God's blessing, prove of more lasting service to the cause of religion, than a hurried visitation of a large station, where the Bishop is scarcely seen or heard but in public, and consequently but little known. We are all now in the bustle of packing up, preparatory to our departure to-morrow. Two or three of the tents are already struck; and I feel that feeling of uncomfortable restlessness which precedes a move, after having been for a few days stationary and quiet. I shall leave the place with regret, and it will always be a pleasing remembrance. I am just come back from my last look at the falls.

December 5th.-I am now writing within a

foot of the terrible precipice of the waterfall, which I could not resist visiting once more, as I find we are not to leave our quarters till the afternoon. It seems to me, each time I see it, more awful, and makes me more than ever despair of giving any just idea of the thing itself, or of the feelings it calls up in his mind who can rightly read the volume of the book of nature. The cliff down which the Rocket and the Dame Blanche are precipitated is not, I see, quite perpendicular, but sufficiently sloped to make the water cling to the rock, instead of falling sheer over it. It is, consequently, broken by the occasionally projecting surface into numerous little cascades, which add greatly to the beauty of these falls, whilst they do not possess the grandeur of the great fall, which comes down in a continuous uninterrupted rush from the top to the bottom. But it is past eight o'clock; and the sun, which has hitherto been. clouded, is bursting forth in the greatness of his strength, and we poor Europeans must shrink from his presence. I leave the Gairsoppa Falls with only one regret, that those I most love have not been with me, reverentially to enjoy

them. My language about them will probably appear childish to many; and, indeed, I am a child in my admiring love of nature, and hope always to remain so. I never was, and I hope I never shall be, one of those to whom

"A cowslip on a river's brim,
A single cowslip is to him,
And it is nothing more ;"

for I find pleasure in all of nature's works, and instruction in most of them; because I know them to be God's works, and believe that He made them for some ulterior purpose beyond being merely looked at or used by man, and that His glory is concerned in, and shown forth by, every one of them, from a worm to the Himalayahs. I heartily thank, therefore, our heavenly Father, that He has given to me this freshness, or it may be in the world's estimation, this childishness of heart, and has preserved it to me through much that might have dried it up, and made it hard, and cold, and insensible to His next best gift after redemption through His dear Son, the gift of seeing and adoring Him in all His works.

K

Before I leave this place, I must mention two stories of tigers, which are well authenticated,— not the case often with such tales. About a month since, a tiger in this neighbourhood killed five men one after another before he was himself destroyed. Another tiger got into a cowhouse, whither he was followed by the owner, armed with a long knife; the poor man's son, upon missing his father, traced him to the cowhouse, found the tiger lying on his father's dead body; and killed the monster by suffocating him with a lighted torch which he had in his hand. It appeared afterwards that the tiger had been badly, though not mortally, wounded by the knife.

The Hindoos, notwithstanding that their law forbids them to destroy the life of a cow, and perhaps for that very reason, treat the wretched beast which they have cursed by a peculiar consecration to idolatry with peculiar cruelty. When, as is often the case, from over-loading and overdriving, a miserable bullock begins to break down on the road, they first put lime-juice into its eyes to animate it; and when all hope is over of getting further work from it, they leave it

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