general order, at the conclusion of which there was the low roll of the drum again. On asking what this was we were told it was the officer of the guard reading prayers with his soldiers, and that morning and evening prayer is now held daily by every native household in Viti." Canon Dalton describes a service conducted by a whitekilted native teacher-a quiet earnest service of singing, prayer, and preaching, with no trace of sensationalism. The sermon was based on the words "Our God is a consuming fire." The rich and musical words full of vowels sounded like Italian but bolder. The whole effect was very impressive. The Canon's testimony to the moral reformation in Fiji is not less notable. "The

devout earnestness which marks the character of these people is not due to mere emotion or excitement, but is associated with the practical virtues of charity, forbearance, and honesty. They really love Christ, but find it hard to live Christian lives in the harmonious proportion of the European ideal." This is no matter of surprise, though it makes a loud appeal for wise teaching. Untruthfulness is one of the Fijian's weaknesses, and the missionaries are well aware that there is constant need of careful moral training. The people are babes in Christ. The unbridled vice and cruelty of past generations have left their stamp on the national character, and it will need another generation of patient work to lift the people to a higher standard. The missionaries never lose sight of this. When Mr. Calvert visited the islands in 1886 he rejoiced to hear of numerous conversions. "No one," he wrote, "makes anything out in religion without a real reformation in condition, heart, and life. Children and young people require this thorough change as much as their forefathers needed it, and they must have it as the groundwork of right practice."

Native Customs.

The Fijians are a fine race, greatly superior tɔ the Melanesian islanders, though in some respects inferior to the Polynesians farther east. Sir Arthur Gordon (now Lord Stanmore), long the Governor, ranks them with the Hovas of Madagascar. The average stature is 5 feet 9.33 inches. The race is thus the tallest in the world, being one-third of an inch higher than the Patagonians. The women are equally as well built as the men, and are intelligent looking, bright, and modest. They hold a high position, and in some parts are exempt from field work, though in others they take the chief share in such labours. They work hard in the fisheries, but the man who sends his wife to dig yams is reckoned a poor idler. In every village there is a house called the bure, where the young men sleep. It would outrage Fijian notions of propriety if they were to sleep at home. A similar rule, it will be remembered, obtains in savage New Guinea. Brothers and sisters and other near kinsfolk may not speak to each other or eat from the same dish. For a man to eat food left by a woman would demean him greatly; to unroll a woman's mat or lie down on it is a gross impropriety. The brother, not the son, becomes head of the family on the death of the father; his

brother is the next heir, and finally the succession reverts to the eldest son of the eldest brother. The nephew can claim anything he wishes out of his uncle's property. If he is the son of a wellborn woman by a high chief he can appropriate his uncle's new canoe, his best garments, his valuable curtains, mats, club, necklace.

Brides and bridegrooms are swathed in yards of beautifully painted native cloth till they look like walking rolls of stuff. If they come from a distant village to be married the cloth is borne by friends, and the decking up is done under some tree by the seashore. Huge loops and folds are arranged, and an immense frill stands up like a fan at the back. Many of the old marriage customs have now been abandoned. A young couple will sometimes simply sit together, enjoy the feast of pig and yam, and wash their hands in one bowl. Babies have quaintly shaven heads

with odd little tufts of hair left scattered about the top. Small girls have a long lock left at one side, making a dozen very fine plaits. Dressed in their fine white or Turkey red kilts with a necklace of bright leaves, or the orange seeds of the pandanus, the little folk look quite charming. Sometimes a scarlet handkerchief tied across the breast and forming a tiny petticoat is all the dress a child wears. The men's hair is frizzled and made yellow by dipping it frequently into coral lime. The washing is done in public, and for a day or two the men go about white headed ; then it is well combed out. The mop is not so large as in cannibal times, when it sometimes was five feet in circumference, but it stands up three inches above the head, and when the sun shines on it seems to form quite an aureole. Bamboo pillows used to be necessary to keep the carefully dressed hair from being ruffled at night.

No Flowers.

It is somewhat a disappointment to one who has come from Australia which is " literally aflame with blossom," to find that there are scarcely any flowers in Fiji. The great passion flower flourishes and furnishes an excellent fruit as big as a small pumpkin. But Miss Gordon-Cumming says: "Scarcely any house had even a flower bed round the windows; and the very best garden in the place would, except for the beauty of its crotons and other shrubs, scarcely be dignified with the name in England; and yet infinite care is expended on it, and a handful of roses or other blossoms of any sort is the greatest boon its owner can bestow on us. As to wild flowers, I have walked day after day till I was weary, without finding as many flowers as would fill a small vase." But if in this respect the visitor was disappointed the ferns were exceedingly lovely. They grow in rich profusion in every damp ravine, cling to the massy boughs of old trees, transform the rocky streams or shady pools into a kind of fairyland and weave a canopy of exquisite beauty above the head. There is a strange dearth of animal life. Rats and flying foxes seem to be the only indigenous creatures, and the native rats have died out since foreign rats landed from the ships. The first horse which was imported caused profound astonishment in

Levuka, where it was regarded as a great pig. Pigs in some places run wild in the jungle, but these were introduced by the Tongans, who also brought cats, ducks and fowls. Flies and mosquitoes are a terrible plague. Cockroaches abound, and the housekeeper far from demolishing their webs encourages the spiders which feast on these black pests. Snakes are few and are not poisonous. Crabs with scarlet claws and spotted backs are a lovely feature of the shore, and the little bronze lizards with their bright blue tails sport about the houses.

of rosy silky tassels float down with every breath of air, as playthings for tiny brown children in lightest raiment." The marine convolvulus with its lilac blossom spread over the graves of the hardy fisherfolk in the island of Kid, and the white convolvulus hung from the rocks. The place was a triumph of careful cultivation for the bare rock had been transformed into a garden. Every crevice had been filled with soil brought from the mainland in which the palms and bananas flourished luxuriantly. Some of the rivers flowing into Suva harbour are exquisitely adorned by rich tropical foliage which clothes their banks and overhangs the streams. "Delicate and beautiful creepers of every conceivable pattern, assuming forms more or less akin to our own Virginian creeper, convolvulus and ash, only in infinite variety and luxuriance, blend their foliage one with another in inextricable confusion, and together overspread the tall trees, thence falling in long veils as of dripping leaves." Tree ferns clothe the banks, and multitudes of wild duck haunt the quiet streams. There are some splendid trees which afford deep shade, and the young leaves of the ndawa which are a bright crimson give a pleasant variety to the general foliage. The tree-nettle with its large glossy leaves causes days of pain to those who rub against it; the juice of the kankaro,

or itch plant, will sometimes involve months of intolerable irritation. The yam has leaves like a convolvulus, and grows up a tall reed. The banana sometimes bears two hundred of its fruits on one branch; its leaves are three to four feet long and ten to fifteen inches wide. They form pleasant sunshades for the Fijian girls. The lovely crimson dracaena is planted over the graves. The two chief islands are very mountainous, densely wooded up to their summits, and exceedingly fertile. The well wooded mountains form a grand background to the view as seen from the ocean. Viti Levu has peaks 5000 feet high. The lowlands are of rich alluvial soil, well watered. Some of the smaller islands are low and fringed with cocoanut-trees, others are bold and rugged, whilst many are literally clothed with foliage. The winter, from May to September, is very dry; the wet season lasts from October to March. The first four months of the year are often very stormy.

Groves cut

Down.

Bau, the native capital, is a tiny island, The Sacred scarcely a mile in length, lying close to Viti Levu with which it is connected by a narrow neck of land, fordable at low water. Its old temples with their high pitched roofs have been pulled down, and fire has ravaged the place so that it now consists only of a cluster of cottages on the shore. Thakombau's house was a simple thatched cottage like the rest. The mission station rises on the flat summit of the green hill. Greater atrocities were committed at Bau in heathen times than anywhere else in Fiji. The site of the cannibal ovens can now only be traced by the greener grass, but there is an old tree near by covered with notches on branch and trunk, each of which is the record of some poor victim's fate. Now all is changed. The sacred grove has been cut down, and a Christian church has risen near the old ovens, which astonished the Bishop of Nelson when he visited Bau. The great wooden drums which once called the people together to some hideous feast now summon them to Christian worship.

A Tongan Chief as Missionary.

One name is closely associated with the mission. The first person who welcomed Miss Gordon-Cumming when she landed at Bau was Joeli Bulu, the fine old Tongan chief, who came as a native teacher to Fiji in 1838. He generally wore a long white waist cloth reaching almost to the feet, with folds of native cloth round his leins. She says: "His features are beautiful, his colour clear olive, and he has grey hair and a long silky grey beard. He is just my ideal of what Abraham must have been, and would be worth a fortune to an artist as a patriarchal study." He and his comrades proved splendid pioneer missionaries. Energetic, resolute, blessed with physical strength and social influence, they commanded respect among the Fijians. Joeli Bulu's faith was intensely real. "I have rarely met any man so perfectly simple, or so unmistakably in earnest." He was soon ordained and sent to take charge of the work in Ono, and the group

of islands around it. His wife was his true colleague, always sensible and kindly. Joeli Bulu's physical endurance and courage are illustrated by a well-known story. He dreamed one night that he had a terrible encounter with a shark. This dream haunted him so persistently that he refused to swim, as he had been accustomed to do in the deep water near the river's mouth. At last he yielded to the persuasion of his friends. He had gone far out to sea when he saw a shark coming straight towards him. As its jaws opened he plunged his arm down the monster's throat and grasped its tongue firmly by the root. Then he struck out for shore, dragging the shark after him. When he reached the bank he fell down utterly exhausted. His wounds were dressed, and though bearing its deep scars for life his arm regained most of its strength. A man who could display such nerve and prowess was the very teacher needed at Thakombau's court. The old king and his strong-willed family gave him many an anxious hour, but they became deeply attached to their special chaplain and watched tenderly round the old veteran's deathbed. Joeli died in May 1877. He was conscious to the last, and the expression on his grand old face showed that he was calmly waiting for the crown of righteousness. The lifeless body was laid on a square of

rich black brown sappa, the head rested on a roll of native cloth, over the feet were two Samoan mats. He was buried in the neighbouring island of Kiva, beside his old friend John Hunt, who had not been spared to see the triumphs over which Joeli rejoiced. The king and his family with a host of mourners followed the veteran to his resting-place.

Native Teachers.

The life of a native teacher is not easy. After mastering the dialect of the district to which he is sent he has to conduct school three mornings a week for children and three evenings for adults. He preaches on the Sunday and on the week night, visits the sick, and is constantly busy with his pastoral work. He is paid from ten to twenty shillings a quarter in kind. Besides this he has a free house, and works in his own garden. His dinner is provided for him on Sunday, and once a month he has a present of food. A native minister receives twenty-five shillings a quarter and a yearly present of perhaps a hundred yams. After fifteen years' service his salary is raised to fifteen pounds. The influence of the white missionaries with the people is marvellous to all who do not remember that through them a hundred thousand ferocious cannibals have been brought to Christ

JOHN TELFORD

THE

HERE has recently been placed in our hands a MS. collection of papers, consisting of brief comments on Holy Scripture, written in the intervals of work by a youth in feeble health, who passed away at the age of twenty-seven; and, as an illustration of the use which a thoughtful meditative spirit may make of an interleaved Bible, the notes will, we think, be found by our readers to possess no common interest. Their writer, Edward Herbert Bates, was born in Australia, and, early orphaned, was sent to England to be trained under the care of an affectionate aunt. He passed through his school course with credit, closing it in Switzerland, where, in his sixteenth year he was led through the solemn appeals of Lord Radstock, at drawing-room meetings held in Lausanne, to surrender himself with full decision to Christ. Returning to England, he successfully passed an examination for the Civil Service, but ill health prevented him from obtaining an appointment. He bore the trial meekly, and renouncing his secular ambitions gave himself with quiet resolution to the career of a private tutor, after a while undertaking a small boardingschool. This work, writes his affectionate relative,

He took up as direct service for his blessed Master, and devoted himself to it with an energy and diligence almost unprecedented in so young a man; and this continued until within a few days of his death. His boys were his

delight, and he was theirs. A strict disciplinarian, and unrelaxing as to work, he yet took a real and practical interest in all their sports and recreations, never sparing himself-indeed he so thoroughly identified himself with them, that no game was really enjoyed without him. The morning and evening Scripture reading, with explanatory remarks suited to their apprehension, with hymn-singing and prayer, were times evidently enjoyed by the boys, and may yet hereafter bear fruit. Before he was occupied with resident pupils, he had for a considerable time at his own residence, a Sunday afternoon service for boys and girls of the educated class-and as he was peculiarly gifted for this work, it was greatly enjoyed by the young people, who never wearied, but on the contrary, were always reluctant to depart at the appointed hour. He especially delighted to address the young, rich or poor, and had no difficulty in coming down to their level, and presenting eternal truth to them in a form which they could comprehend.

This picture of a retired and beautiful life forms a fitting introduction to the extracts which follow, selected from a vast mass of notes which crowd the pages of "Bertie's" interleaved Bible. That book, for the last six years of his life-it was a present on his twenty-first birthday-was the constant companion of his solitary hours. The comments were the outcome of his own thought, written with no intention of their being seen by others. In fact, it was only after his death that

these treasures, as we may truly call them, of the young disciple were brought to light. Very probably they may, in their unstudied simplicity and their occasional mysticism, be found more suggestive and stimulating to many minds than a more professional exposition. For the present, we must restrict our extracts to the Book of Genesis.

Ch. i. 1. In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

Is the first chapter of Genesis science? No-but it is truth. Science is only the reasoned arrangement of a certained facts, and the very existence of science in its present condition is a testimony to the imperfection of human knowledge. Knowledge of God, science is utterly unable to give us. "The world by wisdom knew not God." Man's knowledge of God, independently of the revelation God has been pleased to give us, is a singularly worthless thing. It has become more false as time rolls on. The more ancient of the old Indian vedas are the best, etc. Science is man's account of what he thinks to be true. Revelation is God's announcement of what He knows to be true, and it is "by faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear."

Ch. ii. 17. The tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

The tree spoke of death in the midst of life. Contrast John vi. 51. As a test of obedience the tree of knowledge of good and evil was planted in the garden, within sight and reach, but fenced off by a prohibitory command. Had the command been grievous, had it involved suffering, or even great difficulty, it might have been said, "The balance is loaded at the danger-end, and the test is not fair." But the command was light and easy to obey, and disobedience consequently the more inexcusable."Surely die."-Does God begin the training of His noblest creature by issuing a threat? Nay, here is no threat, but merciful forewarning adapted to a willendowed and responsible moral agent. Without exhibition of the penalty, man lost might have said, "Why was there no danger-signal held up-no red light exhibited?"

The tempter never bids Eve pluck and eat-ah, the tempter knows better! There is no urgency, no pressure. Where is God all the while this tragedy is being enacted? Why does He not come forward and prevent? How should a Father suffer some crafty, wicked and malignant being thus to assail His unsuspecting child? Should it be pleaded, He had in view to provide a remedy, and thereby reveal the depth of His compassion; might it not be answered, "But would not prevention have been better?"

We are out of our depth. Before such questions we can only be silent, holding fast the assurance in Christ Jesus of His goodness, love and righteousness, and awaiting His own disclosure of the mystery, as soon as we are able to bear it, if that may ever be.

Ch. iv. 24. Enoch walked with God.

None but the living walk. Two must be agreed who

walk together. Walking with God includes endeared friendship, reposing love-holy cheerfulness-in fine, what idea is there of blessedness, of peace, of holiness, of calmness, which it does not convey to the mind?

Enoch, the church taken out of the world before the tribulation of the flood. Noah, the children of Israel passing through the flood.

Ch. vi. 1. Men began to multiply on the face of the earth.

It was a season of outward prosperity. Grand times they were, doubtless, looked at from man's point. Those antediluvians who in the beginning of the world made iron pliant, were workers in brass and builders of cities, and framers of instruments of music, were not rude men, ignorant savages, but were men of culture and taste.

The time is coming when the world is going to be very happy, men forgetting their differences and mingling together in the wild race for riches and renown, but forgetting God. Hardened and careless is written across Matt. xxiv. 38.

Ch. xi. 4. Go to, let us build us a city, and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven. MAN'S TOWER.-The vast tower probably gave to the Babylonians their vast conceptions. They were giant architects that laid out a city with a wall sixty miles in circumference, and huge artificial gardens reared upon a wall hundreds of feet high. Let us give full credit to the great carnal men-the energetic race that dared to do great things in these early days. Mark the egotism, vanity, conceit, absence of any mention of God

"Let us make brick.

Let us build us a city

And a tower that points to heaven!

Let us make us a name

Lest we be scattered abroad."

It was an imposing spectacle, a thing seen, but only a mountain of dust.

"So the Lord scattereth them abroad."

GOD'S TOWER.-"I will shew thee, I will make of thee, I will bless thee, and I will bless them that bless thee-and in thee shall all families be blessed." That tower has been going on ever since. Not a tower of dead dust and dead men's works, but a living foundation stone, raised on rich and eternal pillars of promise: every builder ascends to the heavenly Jerusalem; no dead men go there, every stone is a living stone; and every builder increases in power as he labours. Invisible but lasting.

Ch. xii. 1. Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house.

It may have been in the still and solemn night-or the evening hour of meditation, or amid the duties of his position; however it was, God still speaks in the silence of the waiting spirit, impressing the will, and saying, "Get thee out."

1. The call involved hardship: must leave his kindred. 2. The call eminently wise: as long as the bird lingers by the nest, it will not know the luxury of flight. 3. Accompanied by a promise, the call rang a clarion