making many desolate. May the judgments which Thou hast sent, work in us a more lively faith, a more entire obedience, a more earnest endeavour to conform to Thy will, and to advance Thy glory. Make us daily sensible of Thy goodness, in maintaining the domestic tranquillity of our land, in preserving us from intestine commotions, and in granting a plentiful return to the labours of our husbandmen. Teach us to show our thankfulness for these mercies, by an increasing desire to relieve distress, to remove all occasions of discontent and murmurings, and to promote good will and concord amongst ourselves. And may the frequent instances of mortality which we have beheld, remind us all of the nearness of death, and dispose us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom; that, whether living or dying, we may be found faithful disciples of Him who has taken away the sting of death, and opened the gate of everlasting life to all believers.

"Hear us, O Lord, for Thy goodness is great; and according to the multitude of Thy mercies receive these our petitions, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Good will and Concord"-the Alpha and Omega of gospel duty-have been too little understood amongst us. We are all agreed that a common pestilence is a common evil, against which Churchman and Dissenter may, and can bring to bear the irresistible influence of fervent and united prayer. Can they not do as much with reference to that greater plague-the plague of every human soul, regenerate and unregenerate-an evil heart of unbelief. We can make common cause when bodily disease is rampant; but when the inner man is sick, suffering, and dying, we refuse to recognize the universal and infallible medicine of the Cross, and will hear of nothing but our own little nostrums and specifics. Will one of the many fruits of this distressing visitation be the teaching of us "to remove all occasions of discontent and murmurings, and to promote goodwill and concord amongst ourselves ?"

We shall long remember the morning of the 12th September. Heavy showers, alternating with bright gleams of sunshine, ushered it in. As we repaired to the early service, one of the most perfect and brilliant rainbows we ever remember to have seen, stretched across a dark bank of clouds before us. It was a

pictured message from God to his repentant people, that spoke as plainly as it spoke to Noah-"I will not destroy the earth any more." He, of whose throne that bow is the significant canopy, has taken up his place between the living and the dead, and the plague shall be at once stayed. "Come, my people,” he has said, "enter into the secret of my tabernacle, and hide thyself as it were for a little moment-and the storm will be overpast."

And its fury has gone by. We are of those who have still the ancient affectation to believe that the "effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." Since our country with one voice determined to humble itself on account of this judgment, the mortality has materially diminished, our enemies themselves being judges. "Oh," but say some, "there are natural causes sufficient to account for all this-storms have cleansed the atmosphere, heavy rains have flushed the sewers, a more genial and healthy temperature has succeeded the enervating, oppressive, and pestilential heats that distinguished the previous weather." We readily grant all this; but God works by means. Who sent the storms, the rains, and the refreshing breezes? Who, but the self-same God, who quieteth the earth with his south wind, and regulates the entire machinery of Creation?

TOUCH.

It seems to be a part of the compensatory laws of Nature, that when wisdom is shut out by one entrance, it finds a readier admission at another. We are not disposed to regard this fact as a rule dependent on mere material organization; but resulting rather from a more acute exercise of the remaining faculties.

"There is something exceedingly remarkable," says Dr. Abercrombie, "in the manner in which loss or diminution of one sense is followed by increase of the intensity of others, or rather, perhaps, by an increased attention to the indications of other senses. Blind persons acquire a wonderful delicacy of touch: in some cases it is said to the extent of distinguishing colors."

This excessive susceptibility has been sometimes called in question, though it is perfectly consistent with the philosophical

theory of light. The affinity which exists in particular bodies for certain colors in preference to others, may be reasonably concluded to be superficial, and dependent consequently on some property cognizable to the touch.

The simile of the blind man, who compared the note of a trumpet to scarlet, has been much applauded by many. But at best it is fanciful, if not unmeaning, and was at first instanced not for its propriety, but its absurdity. In an old volume of Orations by Wetherall, it is held up to ridicule.

A remarkable instance is furnished by Dr. Abercrombie of a blind man who was esteemed a great judge of horses. He pronounced one which had been declared sound by able hands to be blind with one eye, having detected by the touch that it was colder than the other. There have been others who obtained considerable mechanical skill, and of one it is recorded that he constructed a complete hand-loom-a piece of apparatus requiring a very considerable degree of nicety.

But the most remarkable case, is probably that of Metcalf, who guided by touch, or what perhaps some metaphysicians would have called the sixth sense of muscular resistance, actually became a blind leader-not of the blind-but of those who had the full use of their eyes, amongst the intricate roads of the Peak, during the night. Nay, he became eventually projector and surveyor of highways in that neighbourhood, and has been frequently met threading his way through the most difficult passes, experimenting with his long staff; and planning easier and safer routes across those chaotic dells where the timid cockney dared not venture, because (to use the language of a note in Wordsworth) "Nature had not finished" that part of the country.

Mr. Saunderson, the blind mathematician, could distinguish by his hand in a series of Roman medals, the true from the counterfeit, with a more unerring discrimination than the eye of a professed virtuoso: and when he was present at the astronomical observations in the garden of the college, he was accustomed to perceive every cloud that passed over the sun.

It is this exquisite susceptibility, perhaps, that elected two of the greatest poets of any age or country, from this unfortunate class of persons. There is poetry in blindness itself. Its un

certainty, anxieties, hopes, and fears, constitute the atmosphere in which it lives, and moves, and has its being, for just as we recede from the world of common things, do we approach the enchanted ground of Song. The same deductions hold good with regard to Music.

EVERY ONE FOR HIMSELF.

IT is related that some years ago the Prince of Orange seeing a man eagerly engaged in playing at tennis on Sunday, enquired his name and profession. Being told by the spectators that this was the parish curate, who took the care of their souls, the good prince emphatically replied, "Then take care of your own souls for yourselves."

MAKEA.

MAKEA, king of Rarotonga, was six feet four inches in height, and exceedingly stout. Mr. Williams describes him as "of a light complexion, his body most beautifully tatooed, and slightly coloured with a preparation of turmeric and ginger, which gave it a light orange tinge, which, in the estimation of the Rarotongans, added much to the beauty of his appearance." As you looked upon him, his great height and size, so well proportioned, his massive arms and powerful hand, his high and broad forehead, his firm step, and his somewhat careless mode of dress, very forcibly impressed you with the idea of power; while the expression of his countenance told you that he was conscious of possessing unlimited sway. This extensive power fostered his naturally proud and haughty disposition. None dared to resist his will. None refused to yield to his wishes; for life or death depended on the motion of his hand.

He was descended from a noble family of arikis or chiefs, and could trace his ancestry back through thirty generations, to the peopling of the island. His great ancestor was one Karika, a chief from Manuka, one of the islands of the Samoan group. He was a mighty warrior, and a great navigator; and tradition says that he was the first person that landed on Rarotonga. After remaining here some time, he again put to sea, and in his voyage fell in with one Tangiia. Tangiia was

• This memoir is abridged from "Missionary Stories," now issuing in penny numbers by Mr. J. T. Williams, son of the late lamented missionary :-a little work well worth attention.

chief of a district in Tahiti, Faaa, who was fleeing from his brother Tutabu, surnamed Aru roa, or the insatiable pursuer, whose anger he had incurred by cutting down one of his favorite bread-fruit trees. Tangiia, with his family, among whom were two beautiful daughters, had fled to Huahine, Raiatea, Porapora, and Maupiti; but his insatiable pursuer followed after him to each of these islands, fully bent upon his destruction. Maupiti is the last of the Society Island. So Tangiia launched out upon the wide ocean. And now it was that he met with Karika, who immediately prepared for battle; but poor Tangiia made his submission. Karika was satisfied, and received one of his beautiful daughters as his wife. Karika told him of the island he had found, and of the direction in which it lay. They sailed to it, and took up their residence there-Tangiia on the east, and Karika on the north side. But what was the consternation of Tangiia, when he descried the fleet of his relentless pursuer entering the mouth of the harbour. He sent off directly a messenger to inform his friend Karika of Tutabu's arrival, and to request his assistance. Kiraka joined his tini, or thousand, to that of Tangiia, and a fearful battle was fought. Tutabu was conquered and killed. They then had to cook him. A large oven was thoroughly heated, many hot stones were put inside him, and they placed Tutabu in. When the oven was opened, he was not only uncooked, but quite cold. So they took him to another district, and prepared another oven. But it was of no use, until they had cooked him in all the districts of the island, and in the last one they succeeded. On this account the name of Taana, "well done," or "baked over again," was given to it. Such was the the tradition relative to the ancestor of Makea. Although his family had often been beaten in war by the descendants of Tangiia, yet they were always allowed the supremacy.

Of the early life of Makea we do not know anything, except that it was spent as the lives of all heathens are-in war, cruelty, and vice. When he became chief, he acted like a petty tyrant; and perhaps his savage disposition exceeded that of such characters generally. This is most strikingly shown in his eagerness to shed blood. The slightest thing ruffled his temper; and woe to the man who did so. Sometimes he sallied forth with a huge club, and if a poor child came within his reach, he did not scruple to dash out its little brains with it.

Before the introduction of Christianity, the Rarotongans had heard of the wonders which were taking place in other islands. Some natives had drifted down to Rarotonga, from Tahiti, in a canoe. They told them about the immensely large canoes in which the Cookees, or white people, traversed the ocean. In fact, they filled these islanders with