stain; For thee I languish, Pity my anguish,

THE MISSIONARY SHIP.

THE John Williams is "the children's own ship." She became so when they raised the money that bought her; and now they have secured their rights and privileges by putting her in repair. When she came home she was not very beautiful to look at; and if you had gone to the ship-builder's yard, when they were repairing her, you would have been surprised. As you looked at her, with her masts and rigging gone, her copper stripped off, her deck torn up, large holes in her sides, through which you could see that even some of her ribs were worn out, you would have stared, and said, "What is this the John Williams? Can this dirty, oldlooking, half-rotten hull be the ship of which we have heard so much the beautiful ship, which the children of England bought, of which the Missionaries are so fond, and the sight of which gives such joy to tens of thousands of South Sea Islanders? But, though you might have been tempted to talk a little in this way then, you would not do so now. There is as great a change in the appearance of the vessel as there is between the brown grub while it lies in the ground, and the bright and beautiful butterfly as it wings its way through the air. Now, by the help of the money you have raised, she is herself again. Her sides, her deck, her cabins, and masts, and spars, and rigging, are all perfect; and, as she lies in the West India docks, everybody admires her, and many thousands of the old and young have paid her a visit. Day after day, for three weeks, they came trooping along the wharf, running over the sides of the ship, racing about her

decks, peeping down into her hold, then cautiously stepping down the cabin stairs, looking into the berths, making their remarks upon the little sleeping places which are fitted up for the Missionaries, and wondering at many other things which they saw, or which good Captain Morgan told them. Some of these little parties brought with them bread and butter, and tea and sugar, and having got boiling water and cups and saucers from the sailors, set to work in the cabin and upon the deck, just as if they had as much right to eat and drink in their ship as they had in their houses. They were most merry and happy parties, and many of them will never forget their visit. We wish all the young folks throughout the country could have shared in the pleasure. You may have a little idea of the place where she was lying if you look at the frontispiece; for our artist went down there, and took this portrait of her.

But just after the time when this Magazine reaches our readers, she will be ready to depart, and perhaps will have weighed her anchor, unfurled her sails, and be gliding along over the broad ocean. And while we shall rejoice to hear that she has once more reached that Southern Ocean, and those sunny lands to which she is sent, while we shall follow her with our loving thoughts and frequent prayers, we shall not soon forget her visit to this land. That visit will be to

many the beginning of a new and better course. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of the young, who never cared about the Missionaries before, and thought little about the great work they are doing, will, from this time until they die, find pleasure in helping them. Not a small part of the large sum raised for the repair of this good ship was the first