THE FUEGIAN MARTYRS.*

THERE are few spots in all the world more dreary than Tierra del Fuego. But in South America it is almost the only place from which Popery has not excluded Protestant missions, and therefore, three years ago, a few good men volunteered to go out and try to introduce the gospel among its neglected savages.

They were seven in number. Three of them were Cornish boatmen ; one was a ship-carpenter; and the leader of the expedition, Captain Allen Gardiner, had been an officer in the British navy. The other two were landsmen.

They knew that the poor Indians who inhabit these stormy islands are inveterate thieves; and they had reason to believe that they would find them crafty and cruel: it was even said that they were cannibals. On every ground it was desirable that the missionaries should be independent of the natives; and therefore they took with them two large boats and provisions for six months.

The wisdom of this precaution soon appeared. On shore they were so harassed by the natives, that they had soon to take refuge in their boats; and even there they were not safe. They were attacked by armed canoes. Being missionaries, they could not fight; nor would armed men have had any chance against overwhelming numbers. They were fain to flee, and after many hardships, and the shipwreck of one of the boats, they found an asylum on a desolate coast, in a creek called Spaniard Harbour.

* Hope Deferred not Lost. By the Rev. G. P. Despard.

A Memoir of Richard Williams. London, 1853.

Of the piety and benevolence of these devoted men it is hardly possible to speak in terms too exalted. Than theirs no motive could be purer, no heroism more holy. The sacrifice of comfort and of domestic endearment which they had made to what they deemed the call of God, entitles them to rank with the men of whom the world is not worthy; and far be it from us to dissipate the halo of virtual martyrdom which now invests their memory. But it is in the mistakes of the noblest and the best that its Heavenly Teacher finds great lessons for the world; and in the tragic end of this high-hearted enterprise, we see how unavailing are zeal and Christian chivalry except when guided by prudence and employing the needful precautions. In other words, we see that faith in God requires the use of means.

It was a mistake to commit themselves to such a tempestuous coast in boats so small. A little ship would have been at once a commodious residence and a retreat secure from the natives; and in the event of serious hostilities or exhausted supplies, it could have carried the adventurers to some friendly haven. But shallops which could not cross the sea, nor protect the voyagers from their mischievous neighbours, were a fatal economy. Still more fatal was the error which counted on supplies that did not exist, or that they had not the means of securing. They hoped to catch fish, but at first none could be found; and when at last a few made their appearance, they lost their net by leaving it overnight at the mouth of an ice-covered river. They hoped to kill game, and in birds and guanacoes they might have found an abundant commissariat; it was not till the ship had sailed for San Francisco, that they discovered an astounding oversight:-the guns had been landed, but the powder had been left on board.

Bitterly as they must have deplored these mistakes, they did not upbraid one another. They felt that they

were now entirely in the hand of God; and although bereft of almost every human comfort and doubtful if help would ever reach them,-already beginning to feel the pangs of hunger, and some of them prostrated by disease,-it may be questioned if English homes or Italian bowers contained happier inmates than the dreary cavern in Earnest Cove. Filled with that peace of God which passeth all understanding, they were able to comfort one another; and as long as they had strength to meet together, they kept up their united worship, and made these stormy coasts re-echo with their "hymns of lofty cheer." Above the entrance to their retreat they had painted, as an index to any who might afterwards arrive in search of them, a hand and a reference to "Psalm lxii. 5-8.” And assuredly a more touching comment will never be furnished than this inscription by these prisoners of hope on the walls of their dreary cell: "My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him. In God is my salvation and my glory; the rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God. Trust in him at all times."

However, it was not by a ship from England, but by angels from heaven, that their release was to be effected; and the exchange was to be no less blessed than from the wintry shores of Fuegia to the repose and the brightness of the Father's house.

From the journal of Captain Gardiner, afterwards recovered, it appears that they reached Spaniard Harbour March 29, 1851. Even then two of the party were ill and confined to bed; but with the energy and ready resource of an English sailor, the captain stirred up his companions to all sorts of expedients for obtaining supplies. But in the absence of apparatus for fishing and fowling they were sadly unsuccessful. A rancid fox, a shag half-devoured, a rock-cod thrown up by the tide, were among the greatest prizes which they secured; and on the 4th of July their