But alas! this is but a brief interval of the day. In two hours after he is up the sun grows too strong for European, or even Native, enjoyment; for it is remarkable that the Natives avoid his beams, when they can, even more than ourselves. The dewy freshness of the ground is quickly evaporated, the squirrels run away to their shady retreats, the birds become quieter in the branches, the road gets clouded with dust, and both man and beast plod wearily along, earnestly looking for the village where the march is to terminate.

This is usually discovered either by the Pagoda (or idolatrous temple), or still oftener along the lines of European communication, by the Bungalow erected by Government for the accommodation of travellers. Such a resting-place for the way-faring man has existed time out of mind in the East, where there are no Inns like those in Europe. It is what we read of in the Arabian Nights as the Caravanserai; in the history of our Lord's Nativity it is called the Inn, where there was no room for Joseph and Mary. It is not an inhabited or furnished house, but simply a building (sometimes only an open shed), open to all comers. The Native traveller turns in from the road, stretches his mat or carpet on the floor, produces from his own baggage his cooking materials, and sends to the bazaar or village-market, for the grain or milk which is to form his simple repast. Thus our Lord sat upon the well-side at Sychar in Samaria (John iv. 6)—either for want of a caravanserai or preferring to be alone-while His disciples "went away into the village to buy meat." At places where English travellers are in the habit of stopping, there is a bungalow (a house entirely on the ground floor) built for their reception. It usually stands in an inclosure, (or compound,) outside the village, with out-buildings for the purposes of cooking; and others for the reception of the cattle. In such a "stable" the REDEEMER of mankind was born.

As we near the bungalow I gallop forward and dismount. The cook is there busy in getting breakfast ready; the horsekeepers have gram (a kind of pea or vetch) boiling for the horses, and grass bought in the bazaar; the matey has procured cold water for our morning bath; the female servants are getting the children's things ready, and all is in preparation for our reception. The bungalow contains a large room, with plastered walls and floor, furnished with a strong table and some chairs: there are also three or four lesser rooms quite empty, one of which is devoted to the all-important purposes of bathing and washing. For an hour or more after the arrival, we are busied with unpacking and dressing; between nine and ten a substantial breakfast is on the table. The bandies are drawn up in the compound; and the

general rendevouz is completed in the course of the morning, by the arrival of the coolies with the bedding. After breakfast, all is quiet; the servants and cattle resting, the children sleeping, and the master and mistress (sahib and bebee sahib,) are occupied with their books, their devotions, or their meditations. It is very remarkable, as the sun ascends in his burning course, how completely this noisy land is subdued into a sullen tranquillity. Coming to the bungalow door at one or two o'clock, you will look out upon an insufferable blaze of light and heat, filling the air as with a mist, but not a sound (unless you should be close to the Pagoda or the Bazaar,) will meet the ear. Man and beast are stretched around you, in that greatest of oriental luxuries, profound, unmoving, sleep.

(To be continued.)

AN EVENING WALK IN BENGAL.
By Bishop Heber.

Our task is done! on Gunga's breast
The sun is sinking down to rest;
And, moored beneath the tamarind bough,
Our bark has found its harbour now.
With furled sail, and painted side,
Behold the tiny frigate ride.
Upon her deck, 'mid charcoal gleams,
The Moslem's savoury supper steams,
While all apart, beneath the wood,
The Hindoo cooks his simpler food.
Come walk with me the jungle through;
If yonder hunter told us true,
Far off, in desert dank and rude,
The tiger holds his solitude;
Nor (taught by recent harm to shun
The thunders of the English gun,)
A dreadful guest but rarely seen,
Returns to scare the village green.
Come boldly on! no venom'd snake
Can shelter in so cool a brake.
Child of the sun! he loves to lie
'Mid Nature's embers, parch'd and dry,

Where o'er some tower in ruin laid,
The peepul spreads its haunted shade;
Or round a tomb his scales to wreathe,
Fit warder in the gate of Death!
Come on! Yet pause! behold us now
Beneath the bamboo's arched bough,
Where, gemming oft that sacred gloom,
Glows the geranium's scarlet bloom,*
And winds our path through many a
bower

Of fragrant tree and giant flower;
The ceiba's crimson pomp display'd
O'er the broad plantain's humbler shade,
And dusk anana's prickly blade;
While o'er the brake, so wild and fair,
The betei waves his crest in air.
With pendant train and rushing wings,
Aloft the gorgeous peacock springs;
And he, the bird of hundred dyes,+
Whose plumes the dames of Ava prize.
So rich a shade, so green a sod,
Our English fairies never trod !

}

A shrub whose deep scarlet flowers very much resemble the geranium, and thence called the Indian geranium. The bird of" hundred dyes" is the mucharunga," many coloured."

Yet who in Indian bow'r has stood,
But thought on England's "good green
wood ?"

And bless'd beneath the palmy shade,
Her hazel and her hawthorn glade,
And breath'd a pray'r, (how oft in vain !)
To gaze upon her oaks again?
A truce to thought! the jackall's cry
Resounds like sylvan revelry;
And through the trees, yon failing ray
Will scantly serve to guide our way.
Yet mark! as fade the upper skies,
Each thicket opes ten thousand eyes.
Before, beside us, and above,
The fire-fly lights his lamp of love,
Retreating, chacing, sinking, soaring,
The darkness of the copse exploring;
While to this cooler air confest,
The broad Dhatura bares her breast,
Of fragrant scent and virgin white,
A pearl aronnd the locks of night!

Still as we pass in softened hum,
Along the breezy alleys come
The village song, the horn, the drum.
Still as we pass, from bush and briar,
The shrill cigala strikes his lyre;
And, what is she whose liquid strain
Thrills through yon copse of sugar-cane?
I know that soul-entrancing swell!
It is it must be-Philomel!
Enough, enough, the rustling trees
Announce a shower upon the breeze,-
The flashes of the summer sky
Assume a deeper, ruddier dye;
Yon lamp that trembles on the stream,
From forth our cabin sheds its beam;
And we must early sleep, to find
Betimes the morning's healthy wind.
But oh with thankful hearts confess
Ev'n here there may be happiness;
And He, the bounteous Sire, has given
His peace on earth-his hope of heaven!

SCHWARTZ THE MISSIONARY.

DEAR MR. EDITOR,-A simple and unadorned fact connected with the rise and progress of the Church in our Indian Empire must be deeply interesting to all who wish well to our Religion, but especially to those likely to read the pages of your valuable Missionary Magazine. I entertain the hope of your giving a spare corner to this little communication respecting one of the most devoted and successful Missionaries that ever had the honour of spreading the Gospel in Southern India. The subject of my letter shall be the Missionary Schwartz, and my observations shall be only a few leading points which the humble and well intentioned Parishioner who attends his Minister's schoolroom meetings may easily treasure up in his memory. And I shall, for the sake of convenience, take the place of the Clergyman of the Parish telling his people about this holy man.

At the commencement of my address, I must tell you that the Missionary Schwartz was led by the Providence of God to give himself up to the service of our Redeemer in distant lands, just one hundred years ago. He landed on the Coromandel coast of South India, at a Town called Cuddalore, on the 16th of July 1750, and was supported by that old and venerable Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, from which every

one who desires a cheap Bible and Book of Common Prayer can have them through their Parish Minister, who is generally a member of the Society. On his arrival he joined the Danish Missionaries at Tranquebar, which place belonged at that time to the King of Denmark, (but is now a possession of the English,) and there he acquired a knowledge of the native language called Tamil, which was the key to all his after success as a Missionary to the Heathen.

In passing, I may be excused remarking that a Missionary to India can be of little or no use among the Natives, unless he has a competent knowledge of their language, and it is to be hoped that every Missionary trained at the Missionary College at Canterbury, will be taught the rudiments of the language of the people among whom he is to labour: until this be effected our Church cannot be in reality a Missionary Church.

But to return to the subject of my epistle. After Schwartz had spent some years in the Tranquebar Mission, he extended his tours in 1763 to Tanjore and Trichinopoly. At the former place he had the honour and permission of preaching the Gospel before the Maha Rajah in his majesty's own palace. This Native Prince was so favourably impressed with the truths he heard, perhaps for the first time, that he gave the Missionary permission to instruct his subjects. Schwartz was favourably received at both places by all classes, and the English Officers readily assisted him in building a chapel at each place. His conscientious simplicity and singleness of purpose, combined with a particular amiability of character, greatly recommended him to all who ever approached him; and the natives, even at this early period of his Missionary career, looked up to him as a holy person. In 1766, he was stationed in Trichinopoly, and as this place is not far distant from Tanjore, he very frequently extended his journeys thither. On another interview with the Rajah of Tanjore, he was requested, on his departure, by his majesty, to consider himself as "His Padre," which was meant as a great compliment to the Missionary.

When Schwartz's exertions became known, as might be expected, they were looked on by the Brahmins who attended the Rajah with a considerable degree of jealousy; but, notwithstanding all the opposition he met with from this class, the great estimation in which he was held was evinced very curiously about the year 1772. About this time the Nabob of the Carnatic, a Mahomedan Prince, aided by the English, had commenced war against the Tanjorians; and when they had bombarded the Fort, the Maha Rajah sent for the humble Missionary Schwartz to mediate for him with the English, saying, “Padre

Schwartz, I have confidence in you, because you are indifferent to money." What a noble testimony, by a heathen king, to the character of a Missionary to the Heathen!

As the horrors of war passed away he contemplated building a church in the little fort at Tanjore, which he began in 1779, and when urged by the English authorities to take a remuneration for his services as Chaplain to the troops, he disinterestedly refused, but begged the Government to give him some bricks and other materials requisite for the completion of the Church. As a mark of the estimation in which he was held by the Government of Madras, the then Governor sent him on a confidential Mission to Hyder Ali at Seringapatam; and about a twelvemonth afterwards, when this Prince was provoked to devastate the Carnatic, he issued the strictest orders to his troops, "To permit the venerable Padre Schwartz to pass unmolested, and to shew him respect and kindness; for, added he, he is a Holy Man." A glorious testimony to the holiness of this humble Missionary, even from an enemy to that religion which he declared! To be brief, I may fairly state that his whole life was devoted to the welfare, both temporal and spiritual, of his fellow-creatures, whether in high rank or in low, and his influence became so great that when the establishment of schools in the districts of South India was suggested to the Native Princes and Headmen, they readily consented and approved of the plan. The Rajah of Ramnad when spoken to on the subject, thought it would be an excellent plan, and wished there were such schools in every village." He settled 24 Pagodas a month, or £8. 8s., for the maintenance of schools in his province, and the Rajah of Tanjore gave 40, or £14 monthly, for a school to be established at Tanjore, in which teachers were to be trained under the superintendence of Schwartz himself, and afterwards to be sent out to the different villages. When it was my privilege and pleasure to follow in the steps of Father Schwartz, at Tanjore, in the years 1841 and 1842 I had the honour of signing the receipts for this money which is still paid to that Mission.

66

This devoted Missionary was not contented to occupy one place only, for in 1771 he extended his visits to Palamcottah, far beyond the limits of Tanjore, and a few years afterwards a considerable congregation was raised up among the Natives. One of his female converts, whose name was Clarinda, was enabled, by the kind assistance of two English gentlemen, to build the first chapel in that now fruitful field of Missionary labours which the late Bishop Heber, as it were prophetically, called "the Garden of Missions." The seed sown by the first devoted Missionaries to India has been most wonderfully blessed in later years,