could not take the liberty of hissing a Bishop or calling him to order; equally of course the Antichristians would not do so, for was he not fighting their battle and doing their work? It must be admitted that he gave some very hard blows to his opponents, but the cheers that greeted these performances must have grated upon his ears, for they were elicited by the strange spectacle of a clergyman turning his hand against his brethren, and his victory over them was welcomed as a victory over the Christianity of which they were regarded as the representatives.

If we were to accept Dr. Colenso's statement of the difficulties in the way of the success of Missions as truthful and complete, we should indeed despair of achieving anything by such means. He relinquished the hope of making any progress amongst the old people, who are "thoroughly imbued with the habits of heathenism, with their minds debased, and their mental powers weakened by long indulgence in the gratification of sensual appetites, which must naturally form the main sources of enjoyment where higher pleasures are unknown:" amongst those who have thus become embruted and debased by the abominations of savage life no change can be looked for. Amongst the young the difficulties were represented as being almost, if not quite, as great. If allowed to remain in the Kraal amongst their savage relatives, the whole weight of influence and example was dead against any improvement; if taken away from their native homes and brought up in Mission Schools they became enfeebled and etiolated in body and mind. When they went back to their countrymen with whom could they associate? Whom could they marry? In the great majority of instances in which the latter experiment had been tried the scholars had relapsed into the worst vices of savage life, and their last state had been worse than their first.

Then there were the difficulties arising out of the incompetency of the missionaries. A most appaling picture was drawn of the qualifications, or rather disqualifications, of most of those who are sent out. Chief, however, amongst the disqualifications adverted to was the disposition of missionaries to insist on the authority and infallibility of the Bible. This was regarded as a fatal impediment to success wherever it existed. Linguistic difficulties were further spoken of as almost insuperable, and the missionary was represented as seldom able to communicate the simplest ideas in such a form as to instruct and impress his hearers.*

Amongst the curious instances of faulty translation which had come under his own notice, his Lordship gave the following:-The world-famous and intelligent Zulu savage, in trying to convert whom the Bishop himself

After dwelling at some length on these and similar obstacles to enlarged success amongst the heathen, it is not to be wondered at that the Bishop spoke of the success hitherto attained as so small as to be almost inappreciable, and that he regarded the difficulties as so great as to be almost insurmountable. Up to this point he appeared to be in complete accordance with his new associates. But here he parted company from them. He maintained that in spite of all difficulties and disappointments we ought still to persevere. Not indeed from any concern about saving the souls of the heathen. God would take care of that. He had not left the souls of the heathen to depend upon the caprice, or selfishness, or neglect of Christians in sending the Gospel to them. They would be saved by the love of God, with or without the Gospel, as it might happen. "When he spoke about mission work amongst savages, he did not merely mean to teach them to read the Bible, to use a liturgy, to repeat a catechism or a creed. Happily no one could attempt to translate the Athanasian Creed into the simple Zulu tongue, so that it might be a century before it would be possible to raise that old war-song of the ancient church in the ears of a Zulu congregation, and by that time let them hope that it might no longer be a source of bitter strife and separation in England.

The Zulus must be taught to pray; but it must be in such simple forms as a child might use, and it would suffice, for this generation at least, to teach them Christian faith and practice, as they were taught by our Lord himself in the Lord's Prayer and the Sermon on the Mount."

The Anthropologists themselves could scarcely take exception to doses of religion so homoeopathically small, to a creed so emasculated, and a ritual so abridged, as this. This is indeed religion made easy, the strait gate set wide open, the narrow way made broad! A striking illustration this of the progress of the human intellect within the last eighteen hundred years. We may well exclaim with Mr. Bigelow, "They didn't know everything down in Judee.”

From the confused jumble of discussion which followed the reading of this paper by Dr. Colenso, one speech, and one only, stood out with marked distinctness as grappling with the subject vigorously and manfully it was that of the Rev. W.

got converted, pointed out that the word used for the Gospel really meant a mixed medley, an olla podrida. Not long ago it was discovered that the word Inboonoo, used for heaven and everlasting life, has for its primary signification flesh in a state of incipient putrefaction, This is deemed a great delicacy amongst all the Kaffir tribes; hence its secondary meaning of pleasure, delight; hence its adoption in the Zulu Scriptures even in such passages as Matt. vii. 14; John, i. 4.

Arthur. Not entering upon the religious aspects of the questions at issue; not casting suspicion of untruthfulness upon the charges brought against missionary operations by their assailants; not even asserting the veracity and integrity of the missionaries themselves, he simply pointed out the utterly unscientific character of the proceedings of the Society, and in a few quiet, telling phrases, held up to deserved scorn the whole of this most impotent and impudent anti-Christian crusade.

If the verities of the Gospel are still to be exposed to the oppositions of science falsely so-called, we cannot desire anything better than that the Anthropologists should continue their assaults. By doing so they can only cover themselves with confusion, and their cause with disgrace and shame.

His first visit was to Hollander Michel, who received him with all his former cordiality. Michel," said he, "I have travelled, I have seen all there is to be seen, but it is all nonsense, I am heartily tired of everything and everybody. Nothing gives me pleasure, everything wearies me. This piece of stone which I carry in my breast does indeed protect me from many annoyances. I am never in a passion, I am never sorrowful, but then, on the other hand, I am never glad, and it often seems to me as if I were only half alive. Could you not give a little life to this stone? or suppose you give me back my old heart. I had got used to it in five-and-twenty years, and even if it did sometimes play me a stupid trick, yet, on the whole, it was a merry heart and a pleasant companion."

The wood-demon laughed a fierce bitter laugh. Don't be afraid, Peter Munk," he said, "when you're dead, you shall have your old soft heart once more, and then you'll be able to feel what comes, whether joy or sorrow; but here above-ground it can never be yours again. And now let us speak of other matters. You have travelled, it is true, but I don't see what pleasure you could expect from your manner of living. Settle down somewhere in the forest, build yourself a house, make use

of your fortune. You have had nothing to do lately, and that is the reason the time has passed so slowly. You have felt weary and disgusted with life solely from want of occupation, and you have laid the whole blame upon this poor innocent heart of yours, instead of upon your own idleness."

Peter was obliged to confess that Michel was right as to his having led a very idle useless life, and he resolved now to apply himself to business, and to make a fortune. Michel gave him another hundred thousand crowns, and took a most friendly leave of him.

It soon became known in the neighbourhood that Peter the gambler had returned, and that he was richer than ever.

It happened here, as in other places, when he was poor, no one would have a word to say to him; and now, when he returned such a wealthy man, all his acquaintances pressed round him to shake hands and to welcome him: some praised his horse, others asked him about his travels, and when he played again with Big Ezekiel and won several crowns he stood as high in the general estimation as he had ever done. Peter occupied himself no longer with glass-making, a little with the timber trade, but that only for the sake of appearances; his real business was that of corn-dealer and money-lender. In course of time all the poor of the neighbourhood became his debtors; he never lent money under twenty per cent. interest, and sold corn at three times the value to poor people who could not pay immediately. With the inspector he was now on the most intimate terms; and if any of Mr. Peter Munk's poor debtors did not pay to the very day, the inspector and his men went instantly to them, seized their goods, and drove them all, father, mother, and children, out into the forest. At first this used to cause the rich man a little annoyance, for the poor wretches besieged his door in crowds, the men praying for a little longer time to be allowed them, the women seeking to soften the stony heart, and the children crying for a morsel of bread. But Peter soon took means to put an end to this. He bought two large and fierce butcher's dogs, and when the poor people came to his house, he whistled, clapped his hands, and set the dogs at them, and instantly the beggars ran off shrieking. The old woman, as he called her, gave him the most trouble. And who do you think this was? No other than Dame Munk, Peter's mother. In the last year or two she had fallen into great misery, she had been turned out of her house, her furniture and the few other things she possessed had been sold; and when her rich son returned, he had not taken the slightest notice of her. She came sometimes hobbling on her crutch to the back-door of Peter's mansion, and looking then so pale and ill, that every one she met

pitied her. She did not dare to cross the threshhold, for her son had once told his servants to drive her away. Still the poor old creature thought it was very hard to be obliged to beg her living from strangers, when her own son could so well afford to keep her. But nothing could touch the stony heart; not the sight of those pale well-known features, the beseeching look, the withered out-stretched hand, or the feeble form. Once a week, on Saturdays, when she knocked at his door, he grumblingly wrapped up sixpence in a piece of paper, and sent it to her by a servant. He heard her trembling voice when she thanked the man, and wished that her ungrateful son might be happy and prosperous; he saw her wrap her thin old cloak closer round her; and heard her low cough as she turned from the door. But the instant she was gone, he thought no more on the subject, except perhaps that he had wasted a sixpence. At last it came into Peter's head that he would do well to marry. He knew that any father in the Black Forest would be proud to give him his daughter's hand, but Peter was difficult to please, for he wished to find a bride who should excite the admiration of the whole neigbourhood, and cause every one to say, "What a clever person Peter Munk must be to have chosen so well." He travelled all round the country for miles, visited first at one house and then at another, but not one of the pretty girls he saw was quite handsome enough to please him. At last, after in vain attending all the balls and parties he could hear of, and leaving each without being able to find any one he thought worthy of becoming his wife, one day he heard by chance that the lovliest and most virtuous maiden in the Black Forest was the only child of a poor woodcutter, who lived not far from Peter's mansion. This young girl led a very quiet and retired life. She kept her father's house, spun, sowed, and knitted, but she was never to be met with at any of the dances and merrymakings in the village. The father of the beautiful Elsbeth was not a little surprised to receive one fine morning a visit from his rich and haughty neighbour, but he was still more astonished when he heard that Mr. Peter Munk desired to become his son-in-law. He did not take long to consider the subject, for he thought that with this rich marriage his own future and that of his child would be well provided for. Accordingly, without saying a word to the fair Elsbeth, he gave his consent at once, and she was such an obedient daughter that she never thought for an instant of disputing her father's will in the matter.

But the poor young wife soon discovered that there was very little happiness in store for her. Before her marriage she had felt an innocent pride in being called a good housekeeper, but now she could do nothing to her husband's satisfaction, he found