“The second Communion since our return also took place at this time, and was a season of great refreshing and comfort; but the sight of that little group of Communicants is always too much for me, especially when they stand up to sing so heartily! I could fain lay down my head and sob, were it not that I have the harmonium to attend to and must crush my heart down as best I can. All our trials and privations, looked at in the light of that little _sable band_ (glancing back at what they once were) now sitting at their Lord’s Table, seem as nothing—as less than nothing. “A stranger might simply have his _risibles_ excited by the somewhat grotesque costume of the congregation. Indeed, I had to turn away my own head, as our two worthy Elders came in for the ‘Elements’ before the Service, with the most imposing gravity, with manifest devotion in their looks, but in all the dignity of their office, and with special hats to grace the occasion. The one had his white shirt done up round his hat so as to represent a puggaree, and, as it hung a long way behind, he had to keep his head well-balanced for fear of it falling back. As for the other, who or what his hat had been originally intended for, we were at a loss to divine! It has always been our difficulty to get them large enough to include their _wool_; but this, a light grey chimney-pot, overtopped wool and all till it rested on the tip of his nose, which fortunately being a very large one prevented his face from disappearing altogether!... “The Captain’s plan was to land us on Sunday morning, lie off and on till Monday to land our luggage and some wood John had bought on Aneityum, and then return for the McDonalds at Port Resolution on his way northward. Mrs. Milne and I lay pillowed on deck, enjoying the moonlight till quite late, and having such a musical treat from Mr. Michelsen, who sings and accompanies himself on the guitar with great taste. He had been playing it on deck in the afternoon, and we begged him to bring it up again after tea. The moon was brilliantly reflected on the water, and the ship lying so still, when he began with the exquisite guitar accompaniment to sing ‘Jesus, lover of my soul,’—the Missionaries standing round and joining softly in parts, while we were quietly crying. I have heard Oratorios in the old country rendered so that they almost took one out of the body, but never anything that went to my heart like this! You would need to take in the whole circumstances to know how we felt it. The Vessel, with her little band of Missionaries so far from kindred and country, and about to separate for their lonely homes, and we knew not how much trial awaiting them!...