veniently situated for the attendance of tourists and travellers, as well as for many of the English residents. Some Americans also have attended; the church officers for the last year were, an English gentleman connected with the embassy, and an American gentleman who has resided three or four years in Paris. The congregation is still very large. A correspondent writes :-" Our congregations on Christmas-day and New Year's-day, full; and two hundred communicants each time." This church may also be called the poor man's church, and as such deserves support. The work among the English poorer classes has been commenced in earnest. An assistant chaplain and a scripture reader have been appointed, the sphere of labour of both is chiefly among the poor. The Rev. E. Forbes states :— "I gave a special invitation to a special service for the English working classes in Paris on the last night of the year, and succeeded in getting above one hundred together, which gave me an opportunity of earnestly inviting them to avail themselves of the church's open doors." Arrangements are now being made by Mr. Forbes for cottage lectures in suitable localities. We hope also that a second scripture reader may be added, one with the same spirit of boldness and of discretion as that missionary at home, who sought out and was the means of reforming so many of the London thieves. He might work among the most godless of the grooms and workmen who now hate the light, "because their deeds are evil." They, too, through the mercy of our gracious God, might be brought home to the fold, and might believe that "the good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep." "Is anything too hard for the Lord ?" "Is not my word like as a fire, saith the Lord; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces ?" A debt of about £2,500 is still upon the church in the Rue d'Aguesseau, which ought surely to be cleared off at once. The Colonial Church and School Society is responsible for it; but as that society pays the stipends of the chaplains, and other expenses too, an effort should be made by the public at home. Objections are raised, and old threadbare arguments from Adam Smith are brought forward to show that the supply is sure to equal the demand. And it is said, that if English people will go into a voluntary exile, they should pay for the expenses of divine worship where they go. But we prefer the sentiment of Chalmers, that "nature will never go in quest of Christianity; but Christianity must go in quest of nature." We feel, strongly too, that the English who go into voluntary exile, should pay for the maintenance of the religion of England in the abodes of their choice; and this has been done. £2000. has already been contributed by the British residents in Paris who had the ability; and they promise £500. more towards the purchase of this church. We are glad to say this as a proof of the practical nature of the religion which exists among the pious and well-disposed English in Paris. In conclusion, we commend the English on the continent generally to the prayers of our readers. They are as epistles "known and read of all men." Wherever they go their influence is great, "for weal or for woe," upon foreign Christians and foreign churches; their words are measured; their conduct is watched. An evangelical ministry should be with them in all places wherever they congregate. A step in the right direction has been taken by the opening of the church alluded to, and by the appointment of zealous and faithful summer chaplains in places of English resort; so that now the gospel of Christ is heard, in the Anglo-Saxon tongue, on the banks of the Rhine, in the valleys of Switzerland and Savoy, and on the sides of the Pyrennean heights. Residents, tourists, wanderers, flock to hear "the joyful sound." Let this work be continued; let it be supported and enabled to make progress. And then, with God's blessing, and notwithstanding the threats of her adversaries, England shall continue to be the beacon-tower of the world, exhibiting the bright light of "the truth as it is in Jesus" to all mankind! BATEMAN'S LIFE OF THE LATE BISHOP OF CALCUTTA. WE left the bishop almost on the shore of the sea which was to be the pathway to his immense episcopate. The same spirit which breathed in the disciples of other days, when St. Paul left them, and when, as they feared, "they should see his face no more,' breathed also in the little band of friends who now accompanied the Bishop to the ship. There are those still living who remember with deep impression the man and his manner when he also "committed them to God and to the word of his grace." The 20th chapter of the Acts was evidently much in his mind on that occasion. On his way down the party stopped to breakfast; and, though there were more than one Greek testament in their pockets, it so chanced that there was no English copy; and when a friend to whom the bishop offered the chapter in Greek, and requested him to read it aloud into English, declined the offer for fear of inaccuracies, the bishop at once read off the Greek into English with admirable precision. And again and again, after he had reached the vessel, parts of the apostle's address were on his lips. At length the signal was given, and the "James Sibbald" breasted the waves, which were to bear the bishop to India. It was no common hour when the head of that vessel was first turned to the sultry shore of India, bearing in it a man prompted by the influences of the Spirit of God, and burning with desire to make the gospel known to its hundred millions of blood-stained idolators. That day will, we believe, be remembered in the courts of heaven when the struggles of nations are forgotten. When once on board, religious worship, public with the crew, and private with his own family and a few missionaries in the vessel, was soon arranged. Strange as it may seem, though at times almost prostrated by that nausea and sickness which seems to comprehend all horrors in one, hard work soon became the order of the day. Old studies were resumed, new ones undertaken; and the bishop every day gathered by prayer and reading more and more preparation and force for the impending labours of his episcopate. No man ever longed more earnestly to touch a "land of promise," and very few ever found on the tossing ocean a better school for the duties to be discharged there. The following short passage gives us some conception of his mingled sensations on the voyage :— "We have had a most favourable passage thus far-not very quick, but most agreeable; no storms, no heat, no calms, no rain. We are now entering the trade-winds, which will not leave us, as we hope, till we reach the Cape. The sea-sickness was a mere trifle; in one week we had overcome it. But the real pressure upon the mind and body, is separation, the severing of all bonds of nature and habit, desolation of heart, the feeling of being alone and imprisoned on the wild, barren, boundless ocean, without the possibility of escape; no change, no external world, no news, no communication. Then, the difference of diet, bad water, bad butter, bad tea, a rolling cot by night, and an uneasy ship by day-the head confined, the heart withered, the capacity of thought and prayer lost! These constitute the privations of a five or six months' voyage, undertaken for the first time in the fifty-fourth year of a minister's age, and after all his habits and associations have been buttressed and propped up by parish committees, public duties, a circle of brethren, and the endearments of a family. "This is the dark side of the picture. Reverse it and all is brightness, joy, confidence in God, peace, anticipation, gratitude for being permitted to enter on such a design, and preparation for future duty. And all the previous chaos of feeling has its lesson. It constitutes a 'dispensation,' and draws one inward upon conscience, faith, prayer. These allure the heart out of itself, and from the sensible objects of discouragement, to God and His Sovereignty, Omnipresence, All-sufficiency, and then it arrives at peace, its true felicity and end." (Vol. i. pp. 299, 300.) He came within view of Table Mountain, at the Cape of Good Hope, 9033 miles by the log from the cliffs of Cornwall, on August 1, 1832; and his joy in treading once more on terra firma, after the restless motion of the vessel, will be perfectly intelligible, especially to every bad sailor. The transition is like the passage from the fluctuating sea of error, to the solid earth of truth and unquestioning faith. Such quiet and joyful emotions, however, found scarcely breathing time in a mind like his; and we find him almost immediately in his true element, hard at work. On Sunday morning he addressed the governor and others in a sermon of great power; and, after the service, stirred the subject of erecting, what was much needed, a new church. Then came an ordination of several candidates. Crowds hung on his lips in the various services. Monday was the last day, and he then confirmed a considerable body of catechumens; after which, as the wind was favourable, the captain summoned him on board, and once more he went forth on his watery course. The bishop speaks gratefully of the kindness shewn him by all classes at the Cape. Indeed, he needed no passport from authority to the hearts of those around him. Sincerity, frankness, affection, were stamped on all he said and did. No one could see him and doubt whether he was a man holding deep intercourse with God, and preparing in private for the duties of public life. Some interesting letters were written during this part of his voyage, but we have no space for them. On the way, severe sickness visited the vessel; and his daughter was among the sufferers. They were grateful, before long, to get a distant view of the low mud banks of the Hooghly; and soon after, he felt the true and cordial grasp of the hands of Daniel Corrie and of Dr. Mill.-On Sunday, Nov. 4th, the chain cable ran out, and the vessel swung round off Chandpaul Ghât; and on Monday the bishop landed under a salute from the fort, and soon received a visit from the principal officers of the government. He then drove to the cathedral, (so-called,) and was there installed. And, now, his Indian life began. Those who would really study it must go to the volumes themselves. We are able only now and then to lift the curtain, but it must be in another moment to let it drop again. One or two short extracts will serve to give us his first impressions from his new circumstances: "November, 1832. "Three weeks have passed since the pilot came on board. I have been perfectly well. The opening sphere is immense and overwhelming. I shall anxiously await the progress of the New Indian Bill, and take no steps with regard to the other presidencies till I know the final plans. "My time has hitherto been distracted and absorbed beyond conception. All ecclesiastical matters have been falling to pieces from the repeated vacancies of the see, and the novelty of the bishopric itself. I rise about five every morning, ride on horseback for an hour, then bathe and dress and have an hour to myself. We breakfast at eight o'clock, have prayers at half-past, tiffin or luncheon at one, dinner at seven, evenprayers at half-past eight, and at nine I am retiring to bed." "December, 1832. "My view of the prospect before me widens every day, if only God vouchsafes me grace and strength to occupy the station as it stretches out before me on every hand, and to sustain me under the accompanying trials of every kind, which must arise-or I should want the testimony of the cross. I am awaiting the next arrivals to receive the Islington presents, and to hear the result about the suffragan bishops. Say nothing about me to any one, but in the way of prayer." January, 1833. "Never have I had such health for these ten years as I have had since the pilot came on board the James Sibbald. We have had a mournful account of the shipwreck of that vessel off Coringa, in the Bay of Bengal, with Mrs. Corrie and her family on board, and an immensely rich cargo. Oh! what additional cause of gratitude to that good Providence which favoured us with a beautiful and safe passage. "The suitableness of the post to my habits, disposition, and practice of business; the delight I have in it; the importance of the opening prospects and apparent blessings, overwhelm my mind. Many of our duties are not obvious, prominent, obtrusive, ostentatious; but are only the more momentous, because to a great extent secret, interior, matters of influence, requiring wisdom, zeal, promptitude: that is, they are the mighty range of duties to which the mind of a bishop ought to aspire, and will aspire to fill, as the circle opens before him, and his own influence can command the means.' "March, 1833. "Business thickens upon me immensely and inconceivably. But I delight in it. I am in excellent health and spirits, but must be ever ready, with loins girt and lamp trimmed,' for at such an hour as I think not the Son of Man cometh. The hot weather is creeping on, and the temperature rising from 76° to 85°. Believe nothing that you hear about me. A thousand exaggerations on the unfavourable or favourable side will be sent over. Every one judges according to the face of the pentagonal building which he happens to select. God is the only judge." (Vol. i. pp. 321, 322.) Before the close of 1832, the bishop had the satisfaction-we may say-of seeing his daughter united to his chaplain, Mr. Bateman, the author of these volumes. From ill-health, Mrs. Bateman was soon compelled to return to England; and within a few years her husband, from the same cause, followed her. "How is He found his palace but ill supplied with furniture. this?" he said to archdeacon Corrie, to whom this duty had been intrusted from England. "I thought this furniture enough for six months," replied the archdeacon; for his estimate of human life in the episcopate did not allow him to look for a much longer period. The habits of the bishop's life were of the simplest character : "His personal habits at this time were very simple and regular. He rose early and rode on a small black horse, brought from the Cape, which, for a time, was able to take care both of itself and its master, and by an easy amble gave air without effort. Private devotions were succeeded by family prayers in the chapel which he had himself fitted up. His chaplain from the reading-desk read the appointed lesson, and he from his |