grounds, on a principal avenue, we came upon an elegant marble monument, bearing the following inscription, which I give without preserving the form in which the lines are carved:

"Sacred to the memory of Benjamin Jenkins, D.D., born June 16, 1814; died March 13, 1871.

"He was fourteen years a missionary of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, and seven years in the consular service of the United States of America, at this port.

"He was highly respected by a wide circle of friends, as a Christian of earnest and unassuming piety, a scholar of large and varied attainments, and a public officer, faithful and zealous in the discharge of his duties.

"Absent from the body, present with the Lord.' "If a man die, shall he live again?'"

The Doctor was first buried in the old cemetery, but his widow had the remains removed to this one, and the monument was erected by his son. We contemplated the grave with tender interest, and felt that the Church was honored by the presence of one of her earliest messengers to China, who sleeps so far away from his brethren, consecrating the soil on which he came to preach Christ and the resurrection.

We then proceeded to the old cemetery, and found it full of monuments. But it is well-preserved and carefully kept. We soon found a massive granite monument in the form of a sarcophagus. On the slab are these words: "Helen Morphis Wood, wife of Rev. M. L. Wood, Missionary to China. Born in North Carolina, U. S. A., Jan. 7,

1836; departed this life in Shanghai, March 10, 1864. To die is gain.'"

So for the love of Christ she came ten thousand miles from home, and died in a land of strangers. But what does it concern us where we die, if only we die in the Lord? I thought of the bereaved husband and motherless children, leaning on the arm of God where there was nothing else to lean upon. But it was an Almighty support, and "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" shone as full here as in America.

We saw, also, the graves of four of our Brother Allen's little ones, who just tasted life in a pagan land, to be removed to the Father's house and enter into life eternal.

Thus the Church is bound to China by the mysteries both of life and death. We have six bodies planted here for the resurrection. Besides these, there are several native Christians of our Communion sleeping here, among them two native helpers-the noble and lamented Liew (James O. Andrew he was named by us), and one whose name I do not recall.

In reflecting upon this, the great future sweeps into vision before me. Shall not our Zion have a host to come up at last from this Empire, the American missionary and the pagan convert rising together from the same dust, and hailing the descending Lord with a mingled shout, responding to his voice? for "the Lord himself shall descend from Heaven with a shout" when He comes to gather His redeemed from the four corners of the earth.

O! the blessed toil of the missionary! What if he

is unheeded by tens of thousands of the blind heathen to whom he lifts up his voice? Some hear and are saved, and the number is swelled in an everincreasing ratio. China will turn to the Lord! I feel it; I almost see it. What if he is half-forgotten at home? He is never forgotten in heaven. There is an eye that follows him with love by night and by day, the eye that never slumbers.

How I would love to labor and die here among these missionaries of the cross! How I would love to rise at the last day in the midst of a multitude of heathen converts!

CHAPTER XIII.

FROM SHANGHAI TO CANTON.

N FRIDAY, January 12, we had early breakfast, and went on board the steamer Geelong, accompanied to the Bund by Mr. Allen and the native preachers, where we took an affectionate leave of them. I have them daguerreotyped upon my memory still, as they stood there watching our departure. May the peace of God abide with them!

Mr. Lambuth and Mr. Parker accompanied us on board of our ship, which was anchored out in the

harbor. After affectionate leave-taking, they descended to their sampans, and we watched them, as they rowed away to the shore, with no little emotion. Our hearts were knit to them by the strongest ties.

Our anchor was soon raised, and we steamed down the Wongdoo, twelve miles, into the Yang Tse, and down that to the great ocean. We were favored by the north-east monsoon, and, with all sail up, what with wind and steam, we fairly split the waves, and dashed away southward, committing ourselves to the care of God.

Our ship is not a very large one, but staunch and trim, a first-rate sea-boat, and makes excellent headway. She is a screw-propeller-the first of her class we have been on. Her English officers are genuine gentlemen, communicative and accommodating in the highest degree. The "Lascars"-sailors-are East Indian Mohammedans. The coal is handled by unmitigated Zanzibar negroes. The steward and waiters are English. There are but few passengers, so that each one has a state-room to himself—a great comfort in sea-going vessels. By Sunday the waves were running briskly under a stiff breeze, and the top of one made a dash at my window, but did not quite break it, though quite a sprinkling of the brine got in through the cracks. No great damage done. Our ship behaves admirably. We were told we should be at Hong Kong by daylight.

In the afternoon of Sunday we saw our captain, with his eye-glasses, peering out to landward, anxiously. This went on so long as to excite attention, and we learned, on inquiry, that, according to the

ship's reckonings, land ought to be in sight, but was not. There had been some error, evidently, the result, probably, of ocean currents, which are very strong in these seas. Monday morning we were up early, hoping to catch the Canton boat at 8 o'clock, when, to our surprise, we were still out of sight of land. There was a heavy mist, and, to be certain to avoid some treacherous shoals, our captain had borne seaward during the night, and now did not know exactly where he was. So we were lost-just a little. However, some bold headlands soon showed themselves, our whereabouts was determined, and by noon we cast anchor in front of the city of "Victoria," commonly called Hong Kong.

It is built on an island, separated from the main land by a strip of water two or three miles wide. The island is not more than twelve or fifteen miles long, I believe, by seven or eight wide, and was ceded to Great Britain in 1842. Since then a strip of land across the channel, on the main land, has been ceded, also, for police purposes. The island is a mountain, seventeen or eighteen hundred feet high. On the slope between the water and the mountain the city is built, and contains some two thousand foreigners, and something less than two hundred thousand Chinese. It is a great commercial center, and adds not a little to the prestige of Great Britain in the East. In the style of its streets and buildings it is a cross between English and Chinese. As it lies on the slope, it presents an aspect of great beauty as seen from the sea, especially at night, when the streets and houses are all lighted up.

We soon got into a sampan and went ashore. Our