twelve neighbouring islands, together with their chieftains, besides some chiefs and a considerable number of the inhabitants of the Paumotu islands (which are situated from twenty-five to fifty leagues east from Otaheite),' have voluntarily embraced, and made an open profession of the Christian faith, without the intervention or influence of any Christian potentate or state: and the consequence has been the abolition of theft, of idolatry,—of infanticide,—of the Arreoy Society (a privileged order that practised the vilest cruelty and abominations), with whose total dissolution it may be expected that infanticide will entirely cease, of human sacrifices, of the murder of prisoners taken in battle, of the principal causes of war itself, of polygamy, of unnatural crimes, and of various other immoral and indecent practices, both in public and private life, that were connected with their idolatry. Instead of a rude administration of justice, founded on the arbitrary will of the chieftains, a system of equitable laws has been established, with the voluntary consent of the sovereign, chieftains, and people, founded on the basis of Christian principles. Education, civilisation, and industry,2 are rapidly spreading through those islands: for, where the precepts of Christianity are diffused, idleness never fails to become disreputable, and civilisation inevitably follows. Men, devoted to intemperance, cruel, profligate, and ungodly, have been so changed in their hearts and lives, as to become virtuous and useful members of society; and many thousand adult persons (besides their children), who a few years since were enveloped in error, sensuality, and idolatry, have been turned from dumb idols to serve the living and true God.

Public, social, and domestic worship are universal, and private devotion is supposed to be almost universal.3 Who can contemplate the former condition of these islands, with their inhabitants groaning, and consuming under the tyranny of a cruel system of idolatry, and of vices still more destructive, and then contrast with it the natives in their present circumstances, gradually emerging from their former

1 To these are now to be added the inhabitants of several of the Sandwich Islands, through the divine blessing on the labours of the Missionaries sent out by the North American Missionary Society.

2 It is but an act of justice to the Directors of the London Missionary Society, to state that they have taken the most effectual means for giving permanence and consistency to this wonderful revolution. Aware of the necessity of introducing among the natives a system of regular labour, as the best safeguard of moral and religious habits, they sent out persons for the express purpose of directing the attention of the islanders to the rearing and cultivation of the coffee and cotton trees, and of other indigenous plants. Different branches of carpentry, boatbuilding, and various useful manufactures are now successfully carried on in the Georgian and Society Islands.

3 See the Narrative of the Mission to Otaheite, published by the Directors of the London Missionary Society, 8vo. London, 1818; and also their Twenty-fifth, Twenty-sixth, Twenty-seventh, and Twenty-eighth Reports for the years 1819, 1820, 1821, and 1822. Three thousand copies of a Taheitean version of the gospel of St. Luke have long been in circulation, besides a large number of spelling-books, scripture lessons, and catechisms. The number of natives in the Georgian islands only, who are able to read, amount to between 4 and 5000. Schools have been erected, in every district, by command of the late king Pomarre; who himself composed the alphabet at the beginning of the spelling book, and worked off some of the first sheets at the printing press.

darkness and misery under the benign influences of Christianity; worshipping the true God, becoming honourable members of the Christian church, reading the Holy Scriptures, advancing in the knowledge of Jesus Christ, improving in their mental and moral character, and in their social habits, with the comforts of civilised life daily multiplying around them,-where is the Christian who can contemplate these things, and not evidently perceive the finger of Divine Providence, a most convincing proof of the efficacy of the Gospel, and a most powerful incentive, as well as encouragement to further missionary exertions?

VI. Such are the effects which Christianity is actually producing in our own times. Contrast them with the effects of that atheistical philosophy, which a few years since plunged France in desolation, misery, and anarchy almost indescribable, and then judge of the want of candour and truth in a living opposer of Christianity, who, with such facts before him, could assert that the Christian religion is "a pestilence more destructive of life, happiness, and peace, than all other pestilences combined."!!!

It is, however, in the private walks of life, especially, that the efficacy of the Christian system has been practically felt in reclaiming the profane and immoral to sobriety, equity, truth, and piety, and to an exemplary behaviour in relative life. Having been made free from sin, and become the servants of God, they have their fruit unto holiness, and, after patiently continuing in well doing, and cheerfully bearing various afflictions (supported by the precious promises of the Bible), they joyfully meet death; being cheered by the hope of eternal life, as the gift of God through Jesus Christ: while they, who are best acquainted with the Gospel, are most convinced that they have been rendered wiser, more holy, as well as more happy, by believing it; and that there is a reality in religion, though various conflicting interests and passions may keep them from duly embracing it. "There are indeed enthusiasts also, but they become such by for saking the old rule of faith and duty for some new fancy: and there are hypocrites, but they attest the reality and excellency of religion by deeming it worth their while to counterfeit it."

It is the peculiar glory of the Christian revelation that it is adapted to every rank and station in life. Is the Christian favoured with temporal blessings? He is instructed how to enjoy them aright, and to distribute to the necessities of those who are in want. Are his circumstances contracted? It preserves him from repining. He hath learned in whatsoever state he is, therewith to be content. He knows both how to be abased, and how to abound; every where, and in all things, he is instructed, both to be full and to be hungry, — both to abound and to suffer need. Nor does the Gospel only produce contentment, but it gives to its possessor a certain dignity and authority, which the greatest can never acquire without it. The rods and axes of despots may extort an outward reverence, but nothing commands the hearts and affections of men, like real piety and good

ness.

Godliness is profitable unto all things, having the promise of

the life that now is, and of that which is to come. (1 Tim. iv. 8.) A conscientious discharge of the duties of religion conciliates the love and esteem of mankind, and establishes a fair character and unblemished reputation. While the real Christian fears God and honours the king, he is honest in his dealings, frugal in his expenses, and industrious in the proper calling of his life; and aims to adorn the doctrine of God his Saviour in all things. Real Christians, whatever be their rank in life, have a peculiar enjoyment in the possession of temporal goods (whether they be few or many), while the ungodly find emptiness in all their possessions: for the mind, rendered happy by the holy and excellent principles that govern it, mixes its own sweetness with whatever good is received, and imparts an extraordinary relish to it; while the unholy dispositions of those who are not in a Christian state of mind, must, by their very nature, prevent such persons from enjoying what they possess.

But the happy effects of Christianity are not confined to prosperity: its sincere professors have also peculiar consolations in the day of adversity. The experience of every day proves that man is born to trouble; and religion will not prevent the Christian from being made to feel what it is, to share in the common lot of mankind. But, what supports will it afford him, when the cup of affliction is put into his hands! Supports to which mere men of the world are utter strangers. These are for the most part miserable in their affliction. If they be kept from murmuring, it is the summit of their attainments, while Christians are enabled to glory even in tribulation, and cordially to approve all the divine dispensations towards them. They truly possess a peace that passeth all understanding. Being justified by faith, they have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, and they also have the testimony of a good conscience, that, in simplicity and good sincerity, by the grace of God, they have had their conversation in the world. This is to them a source of unspeakable joy, with which a stranger intermeddleth not. "What trouble, indeed, can overwhelm, what fear can discompose, that man who loveth Christ, and keepeth his words? What earthly power can make such a man unhappy? Will you take away his riches? His treasure is in heaven. Will you banish him from home? His country is above. Will you bind him in chains? His conscience, his spirit, his affections, are all free. Will you destroy his body? His body shall be raised incorruptible at the last day, and his soul will immediately return unto God, who gave it. Heaven itself is but an emblem of his happiness. As heaven is enlightened by the rising sun, his soul is illuminated by that sun of righteousness, which ariseth, without setting, in his heart. As heaven is intrinsically bright and beautiful, though clouds obscure and midnight darkness surround it, he is peaceful, happy, and serene in the midst of trials and afflictions. As heaven is exalted above the storms and tempests of this lower atmosphere, he is elevated above the distractions and perturbations of this troublesome world. He is a Christian. His conversation is in heaven. His life is hid, with Christ, in God.

"We admit, then, that such a Christian has his sorrows. But his sorrow is sweeter than this world's joy. Every trial, every affliction, draws him nearer to his God. In the secrecy of his chamber, in the silence of midnight, he has a resource which the world knows not of. He pours forth his fears, his apprehensions, his griefs, into the bosom of his maker. Suffering thus becomes a well-spring of delight; for it is felt to be a source of spiritual improvement. Thus it is, that all things work together, not only for good, but for enjoyment, to them that love their God. Thus it is, that if they sow in tears, they also reap in joy." Far different from this is the joy of the hypocrite or of the ungodly. His joy is a malignant passion, excited by the temporary success of some of his devices. Folly is joy to him that is destitute of wisdom; but the triumphing of the wicked is short; and the joy of the hypocrite is but for a moment; God is not in all their thoughts. Therefore they say unto God, Depart from us, for we desire not thee nor the knowledge of thy ways. What is the Almighty that we should serve him? What profit should we have if we pray to him ?2

But it is in the prospect of futurity, especially, that the happy effects of Christianity are peculiarly felt and displayed. The hour of death must, unavoidably, arrive to every individual of the human race. In that awful moment, when the soul is floating on the confines of the two worlds, suffering the agony of bodily torture, and the remorse of an accusing conscience, something is surely needed to cheer the mind. But, in this exigency, the only consolation afforded by infidelity is, "that there is no hereafter." When friends and relatives are expressing by their agonised looks what they are afraid to utter: when medicines and pains are racking the debilitated frame: when the slumbers of conscience are for ever broken, and its awful voice raised :— all — all that unbelief can present to sustain the mind in this trying hour, is the cold and the comfortless doctrine of an

ETERNAL SLEEP.

That these sentiments are unequal at such a period to support the mind, is evident from the death-beds of the most eminent of their advocates. Whilst a Paul, a Peter, and a John, and the whole host of Christian martyrs, could survey, unmoved, death in its most terrific forms while many have vehemently longed for its approach, desiring to depart and be with Christ: while some have exulted in the midst of the most excruciating bodily tortures:- Voltaire endured horrors never to be expressed. His associates have attempted to conceal the fact; but the evidence is too strong to be refuted. Like Herod, who was smitten by an angel whilst receiving undue homage from men; so immediately after his return from the theatre in which he had been inhaling the incense of adulation from a silly populace, he felt that the stroke of death had arrested him. Immediately his friends crowded around him, and his brethren of the Illuminati exhorted him to die like a hero. In spite of their admonitions, he sent 1 Jebb's Sermons, p. 86.

.

2 Prov. xv. 21. Job xx. 5. Psal. x. 4. Job xxi. 14, 15.

for the Cure of St. Gervais; and, after confession, signed in the presence of the Abbé Mignot (his nephew), and of the Marquis De Vil levielle (one of the Illuminati), his recantation of his former principles. After this visit, the Cure was no more allowed to see him. His former friends, having obtained possession of his house, interdicted all access unto him. It has, however, crept out by means of the nurse who attended him, that he died in unutterable agony of mind. D'Alembert, Diderot, and about twenty others, who beset his apartment, never approached him without receiving some bitter execration. Often he would curse them, and exclaim, "Retire! It is you who have brought me to my present state. Begone! I could have done without you all; but you could not exist without me. And what a wretched glory have you procured me!"

These reproaches were succeeded by the dreadful recollection of his own part in their conspiracy against religion. He was heard, in anguish and in dread, alternately supplicating or blaspheming that God against whom he had conspired. He would cry out, in plaintive accents, Oh, Christ! Oh, Jesus Christ! and then complain that he was abandoned by God and man. It seemed as if the hand, which had traced of old the sentence of an impious king, now traced before his eyes his own blasphemies. In vain he turned away from the contemplation of thenf. The time was coming apace, when he was to appear before the tribunal of him whom he had blasphemed and his physicians, particularly Dr. Tronchin, calling in to administer relief, thunderstruck, retired. His associates would, no doubt, willingly have suppressed these facts: but it was in vain. The Mareschal de Richelieu fled from his bed-side, declaring it to be a sight too terrible to be endured: and Dr. Tronchin observed, that the furies of Orestes could give but a faint idea of those of Voltaire. The last hours of D'Alembert were like those of Voltaire.2 Condorcet boasts, that he refused admission to the Curè on his second visit. Such a refusal evidently shows, that he feared what an interview would disclose.Hume, instead of meeting death with the calmness of a philosopher, played the buffoon in that awful hour, proving, by his comic actions, his anxiety to drown serious thought. Diderot and Gibbon discovered the same anxiety, by deeply interesting themselves in the most trifling amusements. The last hours of Paine were such as might have been expected from his previous immoral and unprincipled habits. Though, in reply to the inquiry of his medical attendant whether he believed or wished to believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, he declared that he had no wish to believe on that subject ;' yet, during the paroxysms of his distress and pain, he would invoke the name of that Saviour whom he had blasphemed by his writings, in a tone of voice that would alarm the house: and at length he ex

1 The reader will find a full account of this transaction, and of the horrid death of Voltaire, in the Abbé Barruel's History of Jacobinism, vol. i. ch. 17. pp. 377380. This account was confirmed by M. de Luc, a philosopher of distinguished science, and of the greatest honour and probity.

* Ibid. pp. 381, 382.

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