ship. They must on such occasions either violate their consciences, or expose their faith to immediate discovery, which is the signal for handing them over to the judge. The poor Christians, therefore, mostly quit the cities, and live in barren deserts, preferring rather poverty and the company of wild beasts with Jesus Christ, to the perils their faith encounters in the midst of abundance. Hundreds have thus perished annually from famine and misery. Does not this heroic detachment of heart from the world, this jealous guarding of the precious treasure of the faith, bring to shame our lukewarmness and indifference to danger in these matters, where some little worldly comfort or advantage is concerned? In these dreary solitudes the priest finds it easier to visit his flock. But I have not yet mentioned their chief distress-and I may well call it so, for it is a spiritual, not a bodily affliction; I mean the difficulty which meets the missionary in his endeavour to enter this inhospitable country. I do not mean the ordinary difficulty wherever our holy faith meets with persecution, which of course falls with its most bitter fury on the priest, but some peculiar obstacles which exist with respect to Corea. The Chinese and the Coreans detest each other, and the communication between them is consequently very limited. The two territories are divided by a neutral and desert tract of land, fifteen leagues broad. Most of this is covered with thick and impenetrable forests, the undisturbed domain of the tiger and other fierce animals, and there are in fact only two points of contact: one is a road through the woods ending at the sea of Japan; the other, more southerly, is not far from the shores of the Yellow Sea. An embassy from the King of Corea to the Emperor of China passes twice a year along this latter road; once to wish him a happy new year, and the other time to ask him for the calendar. government of Corea knowing that missionaries had passed this way, a few years ago doubled its precautions to prevent any stranger from entering the country; a great object with them at all times, owing to their national antipathy to their neighbours. Over a long extent of the Corean frontier, posts of soldiers are placed at stated distances; and woe to the stranger who should attempt to penetrate without a pass

The

port, or who, even if possessing one, should betray by the thickness of his beard, or other characteristic, his European origin. There is a still more complete separation by sea than by land. The fishermen of Corea never leave their shores, and the Chinese do not land in Corea. If a storm casts a junk on the shore of either country, the captain and crew are taken under a strong escort to the capital, to be forwarded to their respective governments. This being the case, we shall not be surprised to hear that, notwithstanding the devoted efforts of the missionaries, Corea has often been left for long periods in utter spiritual destitution. And yet the Church has grown and flourished under the sword of persecution, and in spite of its desolate condition; and when its enemies fancied they had extirpated the accursed sect, as they called it, each fresh persecution has found it

more numerous.

But it is time to speak of our young martyr. Andrew Keemay Kim belonged to a family which had already given martyrs to the Church. He had therefore the advantage of early training to piety. One of the missionaries, noticing his good dispositions and precocious intelligence, took him with him into China, and sent him to Macao for education. Here he rapidly advanced in learning and virtue, and gave early proofs of that heroic intrepidity which during his short life was continually exerted in the service of his Lord, and in spiritual works of mercy to his afflicted countrymen, the people of Corea. He was remarkable for his lively faith, his warm, cheerful, and sincere piety, his devotion to Mary, and a singular natural gift of elocution, if we may not rather consider that as a spiritual gift, since our Lord specially promised it to those who should encounter perils while preaching the Gospel. After completing his education, he was employed more than once in the dangerous enterprise of seeking some mode of communication with Corea, and facilitating access to the missionaries. Upon one of these occasions he met the Corean embassy on its way to Pekin. The young Christian scanned the countenances of these enemies of the faith, to see if among them there were any who bore traces of the seal of baptism on his brow; and his eye, enlightened doubtless by Divine knowledge, rested upon

one young man, who hung aloof, as it were, from the pagan throng. He approached him, and, strong in faith and love, ventured on those few words, which would have probably proved his death-warrant had he been mistaken : "Are you a Christian?" He was right. Andrew next strove to persuade the young man to accompany him back as his guide into Corea, who in vain represented to him the impossibility of penetrating thither unrecognised, without a suitable disguise. Nothing could restrain the heroic follower of Jesus; he set off alone.

In that desert which we have described, he made an alteration in his clothing to resemble the Corean dress; and, under the disguise of a beggar, joined a train of fifteen persons, escaped notice at the custom-house, and was suffered to proceed without being asked for his passport. At the first inn, however, after advancing a day's journey, his language, his dress, and his hair betrayed him, and he was forced to retrace his steps. Hiding in the daytime among the snow-covered mountains, he walked at random during the night. He had now been three days in the desert without food, when, overpowered by fatigue and that drowsiness which intense cold produces, and which is the precursor of death, he lay down on the snow to sleep. But the Lord had yet work for His servant to do before he should be called to his reward; scarcely had he fallen asleep, when a voice awoke him, saying, "Arise and walk!" At the same time he thought he saw a shade precede him, indicating to him his path through these trackless wilds. No doubt it was his guardian-angel who thus spoke to him and guided him; but the modest youth, in the true spirit of humility, while grateful for the assistance thus vouchsafed him by God, scrupled to see in this incident any thing supernatural. "I thought," he said to the missionary from whom we derive this account," that both this voice and shade were the effect of my own imagination, excited by a three-days' fast and the horrors of solitude. However, they were very useful to me; for probably, had I not roused myself and walked, I should have been frozen to death, and have awoke in the other world."

He encountered fresh dangers on passing the frontier;

his frozen feet could hardly support him, and his hips, swollen by the cold, could scarcely articulate. About to be seized and taken before the mandarin, his presence of mind, humanly speaking, delivered him from this peril.

In 1844 we find him wandering for two months im the vast forests of Manchouria, in the midst of one and snow, on the northern frontier of Corea, in the hope of opening an inlet in this quarter to the missioners. Here be at last met with Christians, and engaged with them to meet the Vicar Apostolic towards the close of the year at the southern boundary, of which we have already spoken, to act as guides to the Bishop, who had been seeking for some years to join his flock. At the appointed time, Dr. Ferreol and Andrew, now a deacon, repaired to the place of meeting. But out of seven Christians who had agreed to meet them, only three succeeded in crossing the frontier, and this was but to declare the utter impossibility of the Bishop's effecting an entrance. Dr. Ferreol, however, persuaded them to allow Andrew to accompany them on their return; and settled with him that he should, if possible, equip a junk in his own country, and repair in it to Changhai on the Chinese coast, where the Bishop was to meet him. Under cover of the night, our young hero slipped between Christ

ustom-houses unperceived, having sent his forward to meet him at an appointed stagain we find him in hunger, cold, fatigue, Andering about amidst deep drifts of snow, les at the place of meeting; and while a miest apprehensions concerning their fate, Aself with oughts of Mary's protection, way th suffering and suspense by sary. e and fficulti it suffe onceal ng to

the blessing of God, overed the capital of Corea in health. Here he remained ed a junk, without, however, e distance they had to sail, or ere proceeding. Nor can you a that Coreans landing in China examination, unless any thing is

proved against them, in which case they are put to death. The profession of Christianity was quite sufficient to insure this sentence. Add to this, that the bark was of the shape of a large tub or shoe, having been intended only for river-sailing, and that the crew had never been on the high seas; most of them, indeed, knew nothing even of inland navigation. Fortunately, in their simplicity, they believed Andrew to be a first-rate pilot. The young missionary's studies, as may be readily supposed, had not led him to the acquirement of much nautical knowledge; yet he fearlessly embarked on a stormy ocean, with nothing save a little pocket-compass, in an unwieldly punt, with twelve ignorant landsmen. But he was strong in divine faith and love. "I hope," he said, "that, mindful of her love, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the best of mothers, will conduct us safe and sound." He had with him in the bark a holy picture of her who is truly called "the Star of the Sea," and he felt strong also in the protection of his father, uncle, and granduncle, all martyrs for Jesus. His mother even was a martyr in desire, having wished to deliver herself to the persecutors, who, fearful of being thronged by women and children rushing to martyrdom, forbade their arrest.

A fearful storm assailed them, and better barks than their clumsy craft went down. Andrew, seeing his crew aghast with terror, held up to them the picture of Mary. "Behold her who protects us. Fear nothing. We shall reach Chang-hai, and we shall see our Bishop." And so they did. A Chinese junk, on the promise of a good sum of money, consented to take them in tow, and they safely reached their destination. Safely in one sense; but Andrew well knew what he had to apprehend. Corean barks never seek Chinese ports, and he himself had been denounced to the authorities every where. Fortunately, some English vessels were at that time at Chang-hai; Andrew immediately claimed their protection, and thus enported, proceeded to deal with the mandarin

with a high hand, the only method, I may bringing these cruel but timid tyrants to reas priest, whom Andrew wrote to on his arrival, mediately to him to satisfy the spiritual and ten