theirs, owing to their vast population, of undertaking the charge of the larger nations of the earth. The Bishop of Quebec, who was present on this occasion, spoke of it as the grandest missionary meeting he had ever witnessed, and said that Selwyn held the magnificent audience under the spell of his burning thoughts. It was after Selwyn’s return from America, that he heard in the year 1871, the crushing news of the murder of Bishop Patteson in one of the Melanesian Islands. Patteson was dear to him as a son, he called him the most perfect of men, and the news which he felt to be so disastrous for the Melanesian Mission seemed to make him at once ten years older. Patteson’s death bore abundant fruit, for it attracted attention to the cause in which so gifted a man had laid down his life. Those who had scoffed at missions were forced to think, and when we compare the way in which they were spoken of by Sidney Smith with the estimation in which they are held now, we can believe that the death of the martyr bishop was one of the causes of the change. Two years afterwards, Selwyn’s own son went out to work in the Pacific and in 1877 was chosen by the General Synod of New Zealand to be Bishop of Melanesia. It is impossible here to give any account of Bishop Selwyn’s many activities and interests during these last busy years of his life. He never spared himself, nor sought the ease and comfort which he had long learned to do without. Sometimes his indignation with those unwilling to face hard work and self-denial showed itself in sharp and hasty words, which he afterwards regretted, for he was really one of the meekest and tenderest of men. To one whom he had reproved perhaps too sharply for neglected work he said: “I seem Sir, to have two duties to perform, first to take you down and then to take myself down.” Sir William Martin who had so closely watched his work in New Zealand wrote of him: “To him work was no drudgery. He was the willing servant of a loving master; paying little regard to praise from men, rather turning aside from it, and giving to others the credit of what he had done or spoken well. There was no moroseness or asceticism about his religion. He enjoyed as few do, the beauty of the world. Being strong in faith he was daring, direct and fearless; stern too, when sternness was needed; yet withal tender as a woman to the sick, the suffering, the penitent and to children.”