ferent fires. At least that is the case here, and we are told it is done that the son may make sure of some fragment of both his parents, to throw into the Ganges. "Now the ropes came into use, which, I have said, were wetted with cow dung and water: one of them was doubled, and the middle thrown down to catch the man's chin. I think it was guided to his chin by a bamboo: one or two bamboo levers were then put under his head to raise it, and get the rope round his neck. The rope was then twisted, that is, the two ends of it were twisted together, in order to fasten it, and they began to draw; but they failed, for the rope slipped off. Another man then attempted to fasten the rope; he succeeded, and they drew up the body, with the exception, I think, of the legs; but it was quite dark, and nothing could be seen but by the light of the fire. As they were not very expeditious, the ropes must have been in considerable danger of being burnt, but the people threw a little water on them occasionally to prevent it. They then tried to raise the woman, but could not easily get the rope round her neck; so they put it on her arm, which projected in such a way as to favour their doing so, and after twisting it well, they drew her nearly to the top of the pit, but they seemed afraid that they should lose her again, if they trusted entirely to her arm, so she was held just below the edge of the pit, till another man put the other rope under her chin, and she was then drawn quite up. Some of the people then employed themselves in arranging the wood for the fires, that were to consume the bodies, and Í stood perhaps ten minutes longer, finally leaving both bodies on the brink of the pit, that of the woman still blazing. The joints of her knees were exposed, and most of the flesh burnt off one leg. I said yesterday to a fourth gentleman who was present, Did you ever see such a scene before?' to which he replied, "No, and I will never see such a scene again.' Such are the facts, and I leave them to produce their own effect.

W. BAMPTON."

Carey, Dr. Marshman, and Mr. Mack, and left them amidst their prayers and blessings. We were accompanied as far as Cutwa by Mr. Yates, who, at that time, was in a very ill state of health. We left all our Calcutta friends well, but since then they have been heavily afflicted by the epidemic rheumatic fever. We left Calcutta just in time to escape, and have reason for gratitude, as well as for the many other signal deliverances we have experienced since we left England.

At Cutwa we saw W. Carey, and were rejoiced to find him blessed with success in his labours; for on the following Sab. bath he was to add four more Hindoos to the number who already surround him. We stopped also at Moorshedabad, and were truly affected with the destitute state of that station. O could you and the people in England see the thousands and tens of thousands who are there, without a soul to point them to the Lamb of God, you would weep day and night on their behalf before God! I never saw, or contemplated seeing, such a scene in all my wanderings of life. I went and saw Mr. Sutton's house; but him I saw not. I looked at the house, and then around me on the people, and retired to my boat with an aching heart.

About two days before we arrived at Monghyr, we were met at a place called Bhaugulpore, by one of the native, preachers here, who was so overjoyed at hearing we were on the river, that he could not wait at home till we arrived. Being detained at Bhaugulpore a day by a contrary wind, I went with him to the bazar, and stood by him whilst he preached to a very disputatious audience. Some of them were very vociferous in their arguments, and from the anger evinced by several, I began to be a little afraid lest we might fare somewhat badly. However, many heard with great attention.

The people at Monghyr gave us a thrice hearty welcome. In the course of an hour after we arrived, the native converts were around us, expressing their pleasure at our arrival, and sat down before us and sung a hymn, and afterwards joined in prayer. Mrs. Chamberlain has been accustomed, all along, to have them at her house every morning, to conduct Hindoostanee worship, when the servants, and any others who choose, may have an opportunity of attending. The number of converts is ten, and the congregation of natives on Sabbath is sometimes very great. On the part of the people generally in Monghyr, there is a considerable disposition evinced to hear the gospel. When our native brethren enter the bazar, they are frequently called in to the shops, to explain to the people the word

"OUR departed friend was born in the city of Londonderry, in Ireland, of which place his mother was a native. When he was about nine years of age, he removed to England, and resided in Suffolk, the neighbourhood of his father's native place. The seeds of human depravity, unrestrained by education, and fostered by evil example, grew luxuriant, and manifested themselves in the fruits of ungodliness; and he was led captive by the devil at his will. As he grew in years, he became confirmed in vice, and suffered little or no remorse of conscience. Singing profane songs, together with the love of sinful company, led him to frequent public houses, where he indulged in excess of drinking, till at last he became an habitual and almost a confirmed drunkard.

"The partner of his youth was a prudent, industrious, and excellent young woman, even while destitute of real and personal religion. And, though she was happily preserved from a participation of his folly, she necessarily had to share in the sad consequences of his extravagance, being frequently reduced to want the common necessaries of life. These afflictions she bore with unusual fortitude and patient submission, and endeavoured, by soothing kindness, to overcome evil with good.' Hence, he remarks, in one of his letters,' Notwithstand

VOL. XVII.

ing my bad conduct, my wife and I seldom had an angry word. This,' says he, was to be attributed principally to our mutual affection, and partly to prudent management; for, if I came home intoxicated, and my wife began to complain, I used to say, It is in vain to talk to a drunken man; I am not in a condition to attend to any thing you say at present. And, when I got sober, and she resumed the conversation, I told her it was a pity to repeat old grievances, and I would take care such conduct should never be repeated.' So that forbearance on the one hand, and soft answers on the other, generally turned away wrath. And, while they mutually endured the pain of pinching poverty, each was more distressed on account of the privation of the other. Such was often their extreme need, that they were destitute of necessary food. He says, ' Many times have I gone forth to mow, and to reap, for a whole summer's day, without a morsel of bread, and my wife has remained at home under similar cir cumstances; and frequently, when we have gone to the cupboard in the morning, and found only a piece of bread, too small to be divided, she would insist upon my taking it, saying, I can do better without food than you, who have to labour hard in the fields; and this she did when she had a sucking child at her bo

X

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som.' Surely the way of transgressors is hard. This state of things did not continue without some reflections of bitter remorse. The feelings of the husband, and the parent, would occasionally rise above the brutalized passion of besotted sensuality. The cries of afflicted innocence, and the tears of neglected virtue, would at times make such powerful appeals to his conscience, as to arrest the progress of folly, and overwhelm his soul with insupportable anguish. In -describing one of these scenes of sorrow he writes thus: All this time my mind was filled, day and night, with horror; and I determined most resolutely to reform my conduct, and to pursue a different course. This resolution I carried into effect to a considerable extent. For more than three months I forsook my wicked companions. I spent my evenings at home; and we lived as happily as was possible for people in our humble situation. I felt a strong desire to learn to read, and for this purpose I bought a spelling-book, and, by my wife's assistance, I made a little progress. During this period, we not only lived comfortably out of my earnings, but laid up a little money to pay our rent; and I had great pleasure in thinking I should now appear the sober and honest man, by paying my rent promptly on quarterday. But a few weeks before that period arrived, a friend called, and by fair promises got me to lend him my money, which was to be return ed in a short time; when rent-day came, I applied for the payment, but, to my great disappointment, was told I could not be paid. I was so much grieved and mortified at the loss of my hard-earned little store, together with the credit of my new-formed character, that I despaired of making any further effort at reformation. I went home, and

took all the money that remained, went to the ale-house, and there continued drinking and carousing till I had spent every farthing. Thus my best efforts proved but as the morning cloud, and as the early dew that passeth away,' Hosea xiii. 3.

"These faint efforts were often renewed, but with no better effect. He spent many years in this miserable round of sinning and repenting. But about the time he arrived at the age of twenty-five, it pleased God to produce an effectual and lasting change upon his heart and conduct, of which he relates the following circumstantial account:-' At the time of my conversion to God, I lived next door to a good man, who used to go three or four miles every Lord's-day to meeting, and who also kept up family-worship at home. There was but a slender partition between his house and mine; and, by listening attentively; I could hear his devotional exercises, which I often did with great seriousness; and it made a very deep impression on my mind. But my wife becoming alarmed lest I should become contaminated with this man's religion,. anxiously advised me to desist from my practice,' saying, 'These people are what they call Anabaptists, and they neither believe the Bible, nor hope in Jesus Christ for salvation.' I replied, I do not know what they believe, nor what they are called, but I know they are much better than we. They pray, we swear; they keep the Sabbath, we break it; they read the Bible, we neglect it.' And so, comparing my conduct with this man's, I felt a longing desire to be in his condition. And this desire continued, and increased for a considerable time; and, at seasons, I cried earnestly to God for mercy and salvation: this was the prevailing desire of my heart, and, to obtain which, I determined to use every possible means.'