The true Christian, however, carries in one sense, and a most important sense, his Church with him wherever he goes. Personal religion is a temple not made with hands, which the wanderer may have always with him. He may, and must, miss and sigh for the holy and the beautiful house where his fathers worshipped, and which is endeared to him by so many associations of joy and sorrow, the last the most precious; but still the true follower of Christ has a Church within him which, consecrated unto Christ at his baptism, he dares not to desecrate. "Know ye not," asks St. Paul, "that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are." He has, moreover, in these days a treasure which it may be was not possessed by those whose remains are buried here; he has the Bible; shame upon him that has it not; and if a faithful son of the Church of his native land, he has also her Book of Common Prayer. What a beautiful thought and thing is communion in prayer with those most dear to us when far away; praying to, and glorifying God in Christ, in the same form of sound words day by day, making the outgoings of the morning and the evening to praise Him, just as they do at home. I can say, with perfect sincerity, that I feel more and more every day that I am on my journey; and delight in realizing in my own heart, and among my fellow-travellers and Christian servants, wherever we may be, the Church militant song of triumph: "The holy Church throughout all the world doth acknowledge Thee; the Father, of an infinite Majesty; thine honourable, true, and only Son; also the Holy Ghost, the Comforter. Thou art the King of glory, O Christ!" The little Christian cemetery of Bhatcul, of two hundred years since, is still marked by a mound of earth; and is apparently held in respect by the inhabitants, the greater part of whom are Mussulmans, who always reverence the dead. The following inscriptions may still be read without difficulty on their tombs, which, formed of laterite, and the slab of granite, will probably last as long as the British empire of the East. Fac Simile of Inscriptions upon three Granite Slabs at Bhatcul. HERE LIETH THE BODY OF W. BARTON CHYRVRGION DEC XXX: NOVEMBR: X ANNO DI NR F CHRST SALV: MVDE MDCXXXIII: 1633: WILLIAM BARTON. HERE LYETH THE BODY OF GE RGE WYE ANNO DNI NR F CHRISTI SALV: MUNDI MDCXXXVII 1637 GEO: WYE HERE LIETH THE BODY OF ANT: VEREWORTHY MARCHT: DEC: APRIL. M' DÑI NR F CHRISTI. SAL. MVNDI. MDCXXXVII ANT. VEREWORTHY. 1637 Moradeshwar, November 25th.-Our bungalow here is prettily and well situated on a little tongue of land, projecting into the sea, whose waves, running up the two little bays, break gently almost at our feet. The hills come down very near to the shore; and instead of the gaunt unvarying, and countless cocoa-nut trees, which so generally deform an Indian beach, we have many handsome round-tops, both of dark and of bright foliage, and some bearing very sweet flowers. Opposite to us, and only separated from the main land by a narrow strip of sand, covered at high-tide by the water, is a rocky island, on which is built a temple dedicated to Moradá, the Hindoo representative of an obscene deity of ancient Greece. It is badly placed for effect, being on the slope of the rock, instead of on its summit, and has nothing remarkable either in its architecture, or in its fitting up, except indeed blematic of its vile god. certain columns em From its dilapidated appearance, I think the building must soon fall; and shall we raise a Church upon its ruins? Nothing can be more abominable or more contemptible than the religion of the Hindoos; a Even compound of acknowledged falsehoods, which they themselves laugh at, and of awful vices, not merely tolerated, but sanctioned, if only atoned for from time to time by ceremonials always frivolous, sometimes cruel, and often beastly, in honour of some ridiculous or filthy idol. while I am writing, a troop of dancing-girls, the Brahmins' prostitutes, "anointed with oil," and decked with ornaments, and, with broidered garments and bracelets upon their hands," and a chain on their neck," and "a jewel on their forehead," and their head-gear of “fine gold,” have just passed by, and are now entering the temple of Moradá. It is a painful sight. If, however, we abused the Hindoos less, and pitied them more, they would not be the ignorant and debased race we find them to be. Instead of boasting of what we have done in missionary work for India, let us rather take shame to ourselves that we have hitherto done so little. If Christ had been set before the nations of India as Great Britain might and ought to have set Him before them, then indeed might she say, "I am pure from the blood of these men, for I have not shunned to declare unto them all the |