To hunt the fleeting joys of earth, But when the soul, through him who died, What tho' the sensual crowd contemn What though their vain and wanton breath Lo! in their train stalk hell and death, The soul (though impious scorners laugh) To know the God who gave his Son Who paid the debt, who bore the curse, J. B. SAVIOUR AND LORD OF ALL. THE WORDS BY T. R. TAYLOR. Do is E. !s :- :- !s lt !d':-:s !s :-:s !m :-:s !s fr !m: !m :-:- !m :f:r !m :Sa :m !m:-:m !d :-:m!m:r :s1 !d : viour and Lord of all! We lift our souls to thee. :!s :-:- Is :l :t !d':: -Isis !s :-:m !s : :t, !d: Guide us and guard us, whate'er our lot may be! :!m:-:- !m :f:r !m :-:- -!m:-:m!m:-:d !r : !f!r :m:f !s :-: ·:f !m :-: !f :-:- !r :m:f !s : : !r :-:- !t, :d :r !m:-:r !d :—: !r :-:-!t, :d :r !m:we are full of grief, When Vic tims of anx :f !m:-: !s :-:- -Isis Is :- :f !f:-:m!f :-:- Is :rd-:!m:-:-!m:-:m!m:-:r !r:- :d !r :-:-!t, :— ious fear, Give Thou our hearts re- lief, Je :r !m:-: !d':-:-!s :-:s !s :- -:ff:-:m!s :-: sus Is :f :t, !d :-: !m :-:-!m :-:m !m:-:r !r :-:d !m:-:-!m:r Bright- en our darkest hour, Till be near! the -:m !m :-:f !f :-: !f :—-!s :-:r !m:- -:fis :s !s m (:n !n :-:I !I :-: !r :-:-!t, :-:t, !d :-:r !m:-:m!m :r last hour shall come; Then in thy love and power, Oh take us s !ft, -!d :-: !f :-:-!r :m:f !s --!m :-:m !s : :m !f :r -!m:-: !r --!t, :d :r !m :--!d :-:d !r : REVIEWS. Memoirs of the Life of the Rev. John Williams. By Ebenezer Prout. London, J. Snow. pp. 618. We are not surprised that the estimable author of this work should have undertaken the engagement with much reluctance, and with deep anxiety. The long delay which has necessarily attended its publication could not fail to increase these feelings. The visit of Mr. Williams to this country may be properly regarded as an epoch in the history of christian missions. His earnest and powerful appeals, his simple and eloquent descriptions of the mighty works which he had accomplished in the South Seas, produced an impression on the minds of christians of all ranks and conditions, such as had never before been witnessed. A degree of esteem and affection towards the main agent whom God had employed in accomplishing these glorious results, together with the thrilling interest excited by the record of his tragical death, could not but create very high expectations in reference to the memoir of the life and labours of such a man. The deep interest created also by the perusal of Williams's Missionary Enterprizes, perhaps, without exception, the most interesting missionary book that ever issued from the press, and the Martyr of Erromanga, a truly eloquent and admirable production, helped to increase the disadvantages under which the biographer of Williams would come before the public. Mr. Prout, however, is not a man to be overcome with feelings of this order. With a degree of moral courage and proper self-reliance equal to the occasion, and such as nothing but a strong sense of duty can inspire, he has proceeded with his work to its accomplishment, and it is now before the public. That it has already reached the third thousand is a sufficient pledge of its success, as well as a proof that the public appreciate its worth. To be pronounced the worthy biographer of John Williams is indeed a distinguished honour, but this honour we conscientiously believe to be due to Mr. Prout. We now proceed to lay before our readers a few of the most interesting portions of this memoir. The most pleasing example of the exquisite tenderness of his character is given in a letter to his father and relatives on the death of his beloved mother. 66 'My dear Father, Brothers, and Sisters, "I now sit down, in much sorrow and distress, to acknowledge the receipt of that most afflicting and very unexpected intelligence, the death of my valuable, beloved, and most excellent mother. Oh that I could have been at her bed-side to receive her parting blessing! My heart is filled with grief, and my eyes with tears. Our poor dear, dear and precious mother is now no more! You seem to me now like a ship tossed about in a tempest without a pilot. She is gone! No more will her devoted lips be employed in telling her affectionate, dutiful, and weeping children of a Saviour's dying love; but although she is dead, she yet speaketh to us in the brightest of bright examples which she has left behind-she speaks to us in a language which nothing can erase, and which time will never impair. Never, no never while we live, shall we remember our dearest, most excellent of mothers, without emotions of soul which words cannot describe. O thou brightest of examples, thou lover of Christ, thou most affectionate and beloved of mothers! May thy Saviour, with whom thou art now spending a blissful eternity, enable us, thy affectionate and weeping children, to walk in thy steps! Then we shall meet again, and sorrow will never again fill our hearts, and tears will never again bedew our cheeks in lamenting thy loss. O mother! mother! where art thou? Methinks I hear thee say, 'I am happy, I am happy, I am with Jesus! Cease, my children, cease to weep. Dry those tears which flow so copiously from your eyes. Love Christ; obey his precepts; then we shall meet again in a more congenial clime, to enjoy each other's company where sorrow and sighing shall cease, and everlasting joy shall be upon our heads.' Yes! O yes! my dearest mother, we cannot, no! we will not, we dare not sorrow as those who have no hope; but Rachel must weep. Even our Jesus himself did not refuse the tear of affection, whilst his beloved friend lay in the silent grave; and can we withhold this tribute from one we so much loved? No! it is impossible. Oh! that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for my precious mother. O my mother! my mother! I picture to myself the heart-rending scene of my mother in her last moments. I see you all collected, waiting and watching, with the most trembling anxiety, till at length she faints, and sinks, and falls asleep in Jesus. I see her celestial, heaven-born spirit conducted by ministering angels to join the holy, happy company of those who have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. I see my poor afflicted father return, with a soul laden with most anxious concern, and no one has voice, strength, or courage, to make known the melancholy event, but he learns it from the silence, and the tears of his afflicted family. Oh! that I had been with you on that awful night to have joined with my poor dear father, and my beloved brothers and sisters, in giving vent to our acute emotions, and testifying the sincerity and ardour of our affection for our beloved, excellent, and lamented mother." His joy at the discovery of Rarotonga was very great. It is beautifully compared with the pleasures of the mere geographical traveller. "And who will not sympathize with the sacred and sublime satisfaction with which the devoted missionary stood gazing from the prow of his little bark upon this new-discovered land? Often, since the visit of Auuru, had the object which then met his eye fired his imagination and filled his heart; and often, whilst listening, as he was wont to do, and not in vain, to the tales and traditions of the loquacious natives, when rowing on the sea, or reclining in the shade, had the name of Rarotonga, (for in many a legend that name was found) fed his ardent desire to visit its secluded inhabitants, and strengthened his purpose, should God ever grant him the opportunity, to go in quest of this interesting isle. And now his prayers were heard, his hopes realized. Rarotonga, the long-desired Rarotonga, was before him! His purpose and perseverance had received their righteous reward; and he regarded the island, not only as found, but as won for Christ, in whose name he made the discovery, and claimed the possession. Other navigators, indeed, had made far more important discoveries. Anson, Byron, Wallis, Cook, and many others, had triumphantly traversed the same bright ocean, rejoicing in their successes; but how different the emotions felt by them, as they surveyed its lovely isles, and those experienced by the humble missionary. Nor was his rejoicing vain. This was no barren discovery. It brought wealth to Rarotonga, and glory to God. Had its coral strand been strewed with sapphires, and its mountains masses of solid gold, had fleets conveyed thither the diamonds of Golconda, and the precious things of the East, the people would still have been poor, compared with what they became after the messenger of mercy had brought to their shores treasures of heavenly wisdom, "the unsearchable riches of Christ." It is well known that the lovely land, for the discovery of which this servant of God had long planned and prayed, and which he had resolved not to leave unknown and unblessed, soon became, and still continues, one of the moral wonders of the world. Shortly afterwards, the Rarotongans received Christianity; and from henceforth its devoted discoverer watched over and provided for it with almost paternal |