Having secured St. Andrew’s Church for a public meeting, I advertised it in all the papers. Ministers, Sabbath School Teachers, and other friends came in great numbers. The scheme was fairly launched, and Collecting Cards largely distributed. Some of our fellow-Missionaries thought that the Colonial Churches should now do all these things voluntarily, without our personal efforts. But in every great emergency some one must take action and show the way, else golden opportunities are apt to slip. Committees carried everything out into detail, and all worked for the fund with great goodwill. I then sailed from Sydney to Victoria, and addressed the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in session at Melbourne. The work was easily set agoing there, and willing workers fully and rapidly organized it through Congregations and Sabbath Schools. Under medical advice, I next sailed for New Zealand in the S.S. _Hero_, Captain Logan. A large number of fast men and gamblers were on board, returning from the Melbourne Races, and their language was extremely profane. Having prayed over it, I said on the second day at the dinner table,— “Gentlemen, will you bear with me a moment? I am sure no man at this table wishes to wound the feelings of another or to give needless pain.” Every eye stared at me, and there was a general cry as to what I meant. I continued,— “Gentlemen, we are to be fellow-passengers for a week or more. Now I am cut and wounded to my very heart to hear you cursing the name of my Heavenly Father, and taking in vain the name of my blessed Saviour. It is God in whom we live and move, it is Jesus who died to save us, and I would rather ten times over you would wound and abuse me, which no gentleman here would think of doing, than profanely use those Holy Names so dear to me.” There was a painful silence, and most faces grew crimson, some with rage, some perhaps with shame. At last a banker, who was there, a man dying of consumption, replied with a profane oath and with wrathful words. Keeping perfectly calm, in sorrow and pity, I replied, looking him kindly in the face,— “Dear Sir, you and I are strangers. But I have pitied you very tenderly, ever since I came on board, for your heavy trouble and hacking cough. You ought to be the last to curse that blessed Name, as you may soon have to appear in His presence. I return, however, no railing word. If the Saviour was as dear to your heart as He is to mine, you would better understand me.” Little else was said during the remainder of that meal. But an hour later Captain Logan sent for me to his room, and said,— “Sir, I too am a Christian. I would not give my quiet hour in the Cabin with this Bible for all the pleasures that the world can afford. You did your duty to-day amongst these profane men. But leave them and their consciences now in the hands of God, and take no further notice during the voyage.”