one of them I performed the ceremony of marriage for four parties, Hindoo or Mussulman in their origin, but professing Christians now. I baptized thirty-six adults and children; some of whom had been waiting for months, till a minister should visit them. I also attempted to speak a word in season to the European residents on the Sundays, when the court-house served for our chapel, and the judges' bench for my pulpit. Some of the most pleasant associations and recollections of my life linger around the weeks spent in fellowship with the admirable persons whom I found in Chittoor. The failure of my benevolent friend's most sanguine projects, and the disappointment occasioned by those who have drawn back, the comparatively early decease of this eminent and zealous Christian, and the dark aspect thrown over all, or the total change which followed his death, do indeed tinge my reflections with sombre and melancholy doubts. But it was well that it was in his heart; it was his purpose to serve God and to promote the wellbeing of the Hindoo people; nor on his bed of death did he mourn one sacrifice, regret one effort, or fret because of any one affliction endured for the sake of his blessed Redeemer. Few men ever enjoyed more real satisfaction in the objects of pursuit, while living; and none could have more peace in the answer of a good conscience, and in the assurance of faith at the hour of dissolution. How many who once ridiculed, or cast reproach upon him, joked about his peculiarities, and perverted his

motives, or resisted his efforts, when living, would now gratefully exchange their portion with his, or wish their soul to be with his in the eternal world!

Five or six miles to the north-east of Chittoor, along the valley of the Ponee, on the side of a craggy mountain of almost bare rock, are some singular monuments of former times. They are detached chambers, in the shape of an oblong square, called here, Pandoo Covils. Four immense stone slabs placed on their edges, form the walls, one large slab is laid for the flooring, and another on the top of the four, for a covering. The largest of these chambers measured about eight feet by seven, and was five feet and a half in height. There is a hole in the upright slab at one end, large enough to admit the body of one man; and two feet distant, in front of this orifice, a semicircular slab is placed upright, as if for the defence of this entrance ; similar slabs were set round the other walls, though no holes were behind them. Some of the chambers had as many as eight such guards. Large earthen vases have been found, and in one case, a hammer used by Hindoo goldsmiths, under the floor stones of these chambers. Some have supposed that these were repositories for the dead. In other hilly districts, similar structures are to be traced, even to many hundreds, without any presence of human skeletons; they seem more likely to have been used as habitations for the living, in a rude and unsocial state of savage life. The semicircular stones might have been intended as means of defence from the arrows, or other weapons of assault, employed by their lowland adversaries: while the chambers themselves were constructed of stones so heavy that mere human strength was not enough to overthrow them. The natives here think that the king of Delhi, called Pandoo, had five sons, who had been driven into exile, and that this was the place of their retreat, while banished.-Coil, or covil, however, signifies place of worship, and is applied by the Hindoos to christian places of worship, or heathen temples indiscriminately; they may have been the dwelling-places of Hindoo ascetics, who, hermit-like, sought the mountain wilderness, and by their practice of austerities hoped to gain the rewards of piety from a deluded and ignorant people. They are now deserted: and the obstructions to christian missions are few and inconsiderable in this vicinity. Ignorance and superstition are the chief antagonists, added to a corrupt heart.

THE story of the Cross was rendered memorable by the benignity of Him who suffered on Calvary, and the glorious salvation which followed. It is a tale of aggravated, of deeply affecting sorrow; no pictured tragedy ever presented, no heart could conceive, no pen could describe with half the actual intensity of feeling, what He endured who hung upon that accursed tree, the depth of the humiliating scene through which he passed, the efficacy and extent of that work which he then finished, or the transcendent glory which he then secured. Pity that such glory should ever be sullied by the mummeries of superstition, or prostituted to the purposes of priestcraft and corruption! The adventures of the crusades have been often recounted in history and in song, because of their influence on society, and the mad and ruinous enthusiasm of their leaders. The Cross has been ever the badge of the Christian. Is it not, then, because corruption has hung a dark cloud over its early progress in the Asiatic world, that so little is known of the past career, or present position of that sacred emblem? Comparatively, it is but recently that Protestant churches have begun to put forth their energies for diffusing the truths of the Gospel in the eastern parts of Asia. Not so with the church of Rome and her emissaries. So early as the fourteenth century, agents were commissioned, who should go forth as the propagators of that nominal Christianity. They went into China and Japan. They overran India and her contiguous islands. One of the most ambitious and most active was Robert de Nobili. He took singular, yet characteristic methods of rendering his ministry successful. He was an Italian Jesuit. He assumed the appearance and name of a Brahmin, come from a far country. He besmeared his countenance, and imitated the austerities of Brahminical penitents, and succeeded in persuading the most credulous of the people that he was truly of the divine stock of their priesthood. To silence those who treated his character of Brahmin as an