A THE PEOPLE OF ASSAM. BY REV. P. H. MOORE. [SSAM is one of the twelve principal civil divisions into which British India is divided for convenience of administration. Among these it ranks tenth in extent of territory and eleventh in number of population. About three fifths of the people are Hindus, one third Mohammedans, one tenth hill-tribe people, and the others are Buddhists, Brahmans, Sikhs, and Christians. They have very peculiar ideas with reference to God and their obligations to him. Come, walk down the street with me; the first man we meet is a Hindu. Will you tell me now what his religious tenets are? You know in a general way what Hinduism is, but I venture the assertion that there is just about one chance in three hundred and thirty-three million that you will be right in getting the exact shade of this man's thought; for Hinduism is a broad term, ranging from absolute monotheism on one extreme, to polytheism multiplied to the three hundred and thirty-three millionth degree on the other. But you say, this man shows by that daub of paint on his forehead just what his position in Hinduism is. Yes, quite true-that is almost true-that is, it would be true if he squared his creed according to the books. But such is not the case. Keep in mind the history of this people. Remember that, though they are called Hindus, you will go very wide of the mark if you expect to find their beliefs agreeing with that of Hindus in other parts of India, as described in books on Hinduism. The denominations of Christians are numerous, but the differences of Hindus are legion. Assam is said, religiously, to have passed from primitive Hinduism through Buddhism, Adi-Buddhism, back again to Sivism and Vishnuism. There are scars of the fierce struggles that brought about all these changes. The conglomerate elements which mark the ethnical character of the people have their counterpart in the varied mosaics of religious belief. So that the three-fifth part of the population that are called Hindus present peculiarities that nothing short of local acquaintance will enable one to understand. However, one or two general characteristics may be noted. (1) As a class they are idolators, though we shall probably see no idols in our walk; these are generally kept in temples and houses of worship. We have reason to be thankful that their excessive sanctity requires that most of the time they be veiled from the vulgar gaze, so that their hideous forms are not more frequently thrust upon us. We may see here and there shrines by the roadside-small, low pyramids of masonry with a hollow in one side, from which a dirty little lamp sends forth a feeble flickering light. But the devotees here are probably not native Assamese. They are immigrants of the merchant class-worshipers of Ganesh. He (2) They are priest-ridden; they call their priests God, and are much more afraid to disregard their word than to disobey the law of God. If in their deepest consciousness they do not regard sin against God as a very trivial matter, I know of no rational explanation of their conduct. A man will tell you that lying is sin; that it is evil in itself and God's punishment of it is hell, but he goes on lying without compunction. next admits to you that eating chicken is no sin in itself, still he will starve rather than eat it simply because the priest forbids it. Does he not fear man rather than God? He yields assent to authority rather than reason, but it is human authority rather than divine. To disobey the priest is to become outcast, which means more to the average Hindu than all the torments of hell. Hindu castes are numerous-some high, some low. To whichever of these he belongs, his chief concern is so to observe its rules as to keep within its pale. Outward observance is all that is required for this. Hence it comes to pass that Hinduism, whose central thought is supposed to be undistracted meditation on the Deity, has degenerated into a round of lifeless formalities which now bind the people like fetters of brass. Until the government introduced secular education the priestly class had a monopoly of learning. Since the days of Manu (700 B. C.) it has been regarded as a grave offense for one of low caste to so much as hear the words of their sacred scriptures. Thus the twin sisters, ignorance and superstition, have held almost undisputed sway-mutually rivaling each other in completing the degradation of the mass of the people. That next man we meet is a Mussulman. You know what the Koran teaches, so can tell pretty accurately what he believes, or rather ought to believe. For even the Mussulmans of Assam have not escaped the influence of their environment. They belong to the same ethnical stock as the Hindus, being in large part descendants of the converts to Islam made at the time of the various Mogul invasions of Assam. Hence, the greater part of Mohammedans are found in the districts bordering on Bengal, where those invaders were most successful. Many of them hold the doctrines of Islam very loosely, or are very ignorant of what they are. Still they present a solid front against polytheism and idolatry; but the vices so characteristic of the followers of the prophet find a fertile soil and attain luxuriant growth in the Mussulmans of Assam. Although no hour of the day has passed without lying and deceit-if with no more outrageous sin-do they not pray to the prophet four times a day, and will he not on this account plead effectually for them with the one God whose prophet he is? Works of merit to counterbalance their demerit before God are the great desid erata with both Mussulmans and Hindus. "Blessed are the pure in heart" is not among their beatitudes. Passing on we find a man whose sturdy limbs give proof of mountain climbing. His prominent cheek bones and slightly Mongolian cast of features at once mark him as different from the Assamese. I tell you he is a hill man. But can you tell me what demon he worships? That buffalo, pig, or goat that he killed yesterday with so many incantations, calling loud and long on the name of his god-whose wrath was he attempting to propitiate by the act? What benefit did he expect from killing that fowl according to a time-honored formula, leaving its blood and feathers under that green tree for the demon's acceptance and taking home its flesh to feast himself and family and perhaps neighbors also. Is it the demon of earth or air, or wood or mountain, who he fears will cause the failure of all his crops, and make his flocks and herds sterile and his wife barren, if he does not thus offer sacrifices? Why are there no benevolent as well as malevolent spirits among his household penates? More than forty languages and dialects are spoken in Assam. Half of these are languages of hill-tribe people. All these hill people are demon worshipers, but each tribe has its own demons, and its own ceremonies, preserved in pristine purity or largely modified by their environment. Remember, too, that the ranks of the Hindus are largely swelled by numbers of these hill-tribe peoples, who, having given up keeping swine and drinking strong homemade rice liquor, to which they are greatly addicted, and paid a small annual fee to the priest, are admitted to the lower castes in the Brahmanical system. The hill people generally are anxious for the present life, saying, What shall we eat, and what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed (though very little clothing suffices), and the life to come claims very little of their thought. That Kachari, for instance, is a genuine Sadducee, and denies that there is either resurrection, or angel, or spirit. His motto is, Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die; as the beast dieth, so dies the man. That Mikir, on the other hand, looks forward to a great and beautiful city into which he may hope to gain admittance after an indefinite number of transmigrations of soul. When his brother dies, he first mourns his loss with loud lamentations, then places by the corpse food and liquor for the journey of the departed spirit, and having allowed one or more days for the spirit to rest before starting on its long journey, he gathers his friends and neighbors and bids it depart joyfully on its journey, bidding it adieu with much mirth and singing, dancing, and feasting, lasting all night in case of a child, and for several successive nights in case of a leading man. There is a respectable looking man of the better class of the people. He has broken away from the thraldom of caste, and now imprecates curses upon it. He has dared to think that his forefathers were wrong in matters of faith. He is a Brahman; a Unitarian among Hindus; the Indian Theosophist. He has risen superior to the rubbish of Hinduism. He wants no mediator between God and man. The human soul has a natural right to enter directly into the presence of the Father of us all. Human sin is too trivial an affair to have annulled this right. Hence no atonement is required, and he goes directly to God in worship. He dwells much on the infinite love of God, and does not trouble himself as to how he can be just and yet justify one who has broken his law. Hence, leaving out of sight the holiness of God, he also misses the most marvelous manifestation of his love in the divine Saviour. Here now we meet a native Christian. The chances are that he is from the hill-tribe people, or, if formerly a Hindu, that he is from the lower rather than the higher classes. Here at least, you think, is a man who believes and thinks as you do. But do not be too sure of this. Did not idolatrous superstitions cling to converts from heathenism in the days of the apostles? Do not be surprised if you find some of his former superstitions mingled with the truth which he has received in Jesus. The ideas and associations of his childhood may not yet have been fully outgrown, though he is a true believer in the Christ of God. Such are some of the religious characteristics met with in mission work in Assam. -Jubilee Conference. The Missionary Machinery of the Methodist Episcopal Church. The Missionary Machinery of the Methodist BY REV. J. M. BUCKLEY, D.D. THE traveler sees our missionaries in China, India, Korea, and Japan; he stumbles upon them unexpectedly in Bulgaria, Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Russian Finland. He finds them in Africa. If business or pleasure leads him to South America, they are there. If curiosity takes him to Mexico, he learns that about the time the Jesuits went out the Methodists came in. In the United States, if he inquires among the foreign populations-the Italian, French, German, Bohemian, Swedish, Norwegian, and Chinese-he discovers ministers supported by the Missionary Society preaching in their languages. In the new countries of the West, and among the colored people of the South, where there are few indigenous resources, the Methodist missionary travels from place to place, sowing the seed, founding Sunday schools, and building churches, as well as among the whites in those regions. Who sends forth these missionaries? The bishops, and in certain cases the Board of Managers of the Missionary Society. Of whom does the Board of Managers consist? Of laymen and ministers selected by the General Conference, and in case of vacancies caused by death, withdrawal, or resignation, the board fills them according to certain rules. Who decides what money shall be expended upon them? The General Committee, consisting of bishops, secretaries, treasurer, and assistant treasurer, representatives of the several districts elected by the General Conference, and an equal number from the Board of Managers. Who collects the money? It is done under the superintendence of the pastors. Wherever there is a Methodist church there is a preacher in charge, and he is the authorized agent of the Missionary Society. It is his duty to raise money from the adult members, and to see that collections are taken for it in the Sabbath school; this he does through the superintendent. In every church there is a Committee upon Missions; in every Sunday school a systematized plan of raising money. Who stimulates the pastors and Sunday school superintendents in the discharge of the work? Presiding elders, who have been themselves pastors, and are liable in a comparatively short time to return to the pastorate. Who stirs up both pastors and presiding elders? The Annual Conference, in which the name of each pastor is called, and he is required to announce the amount of his collections during the preceding year. But this is not all; the secretaries, called by the voice of the Church and set apart to this work, go to 157 and fro, disseminating information, inciting the pas tors by powerful addresses, and delivering, as they have an opportunity, sermons to the congregations. They attend upon the meetings of the Missionary Committees and those of the Missionary Board, and in conjunction with the treasurer transact the complicated business of the various missions. The religious periodicals of the Church are the vehicles of information and rousing appeals, and THE GOSPEL IN ALL LANDS is a kaleidoscope of history, travels, and religious progress, furnishing a new phase every month in the year of the movements of humanity toward the glorious consummation when "Christ shall see the travail of his soul, and be satisfied." Returned missionaries and those at home on leave add their experience and enthusiasm. The theory, then, of Methodism is: Every Methodist a giver to missions; every pastor and Sunday school superintendent both a giver and collector; every presiding elder a giver and a superintendent of collectors. All these pour the gifts of the Church in the treasury, where they are subject to draft for the support of missions. Is it not an extraordinary organization, a splendid spectacle? Yet no machinery ever worked itself. The perpetual motion machine has never been invented; much less in human organization has such a device been contrived. Voluntary and sustained fidelity is the only guarantee of permanent success. The intelligence and enthusiasm of a Sunday school superintendent may in any community mean a great achievement; the absence of these implies feebleness and meager results. A pastor who cares nothing for missions, or who sentimentally cares much and practically nothing, leaving the Sabbath school and congregation without stimulus or guidance, may be an obstruction to the benevolence of the Church. This is often illustrated when, without any difference of circumstances, except the change of a pastor who attends to the missionary interests of the Church for one who does not "put his soul in it," the collections fall off a third and sometimes a half. The presiding elder who is indifferent allows his district to fall behind, while he who realizes the grandeur of the work and his own importance to its accomplishment, by his personal and official opportunities, raises the sum total which astonishes and delights the people who give it, and becomes an inspiration to every other district in the Conference. General Sheridan said: "Five hundred men who will fight are worth a great deal more than a thousand men of whom five hundred will fight and five hundred will not; " which meant that laggards and cowards, though they swell the numbers, are in the way of the valiant. Methodism within a few years has advanced to a noble place among the missionary organizations of this country. Its system of raising money needs not 158 A Mission Journey Into the Sierras de Puebla of Mexico. to be mended, but to be worked. Its most conspicuous agents, the secretaries, are fertile in resources, fervent in spirit, and not slothful in the business committed to them. From the senior bishop to the last probationer received, Methodist hearts should burn with holy ambition to make Methodist missions successful at home and abroad and answer to the taunt that Missions are a failure, and remove, by abundant support of the workers in the field, not only all temptations to discouragment, but the possibility of accounting for a want of success by charging upon the Church at home either lukewarmness of sympathy or inadequacy of reinforcements. Our bed was a narrow seat, without cushion or anything else, and at that point we were so high above sea level, and so near to the snow-covered peak of Orizaba, that it was fearfully cold and almost unendurable. Next morning we left the car, got a cup of tea which we had with us, and called our Indians around us to start. Miss Parker is a tall woman, and weighs not less than one hundred and fifty pounds. An Indian boy, seventeen years old, backed up to the chair she sat in, and in a few moments she was lifted on his back, and away she went into the woods. Mrs. Green was treated in the same manner, and before I could get on my horse, which was already saddled and wait A Mission Journey Into the Sierras de Puebla of ing, they both were gone. Mexico. BY REV. WM. GREEN, PH.D. WEEK before last Mrs. Green, Miss Parker, and myself started into the "Sierras de Puebla " to visit our work among the Indians of that rough section of country. We started from Puebla at one o'clock in the afternoon by train to San Marcos, on the Interoceanico Railway, where we changed cars for the San Marcos & Nautla Railway. A little after dark we reached our destination, at a place called Huitzizilapam, which means "the river bank near the pines." Here we met our Indians, who were to carry the ladies on their backs from this point to Xochiapulco, Tetela, and back again to the place of starting, a distance of about one hundred miles. We had taken the precaution of taking chairs with us for the ladies to sit in on the backs of these Indian carriers, for the kind of chairs that the Indians have would have been exceedingly uncomfortable affairs. We took the rockers off two chairs, so as to have high backs, for low-backed chairs would have been unendurable for so long a journey. The night we reached Huitzizilapam we had to spend in the car, as there was nowhere for us to lay our head -no hotel or anything of the kind. We took our provisions with us, got our supper from our own supply of food, and putting our baggage on the seats for pillows, lay down to sleep. But, like King Henry in Shakespeare's play, we sighed, "O sleep, O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse, how have we frighted thee, We did sleep some, but it was so fearfully cold in that car that again we were reminded of the words of Shakespeare: "O, I have passed a miserable night! Our road was through the woods for some distance, then across the plain called Mazapa, and then into the mountains. The path was nothing more than an Indian trail for the most part, and in some places it was not even that. In the early afternoon we reached our first halting place. Here we visited our two schools, one in Jilotepec, or "the hill of corn," as its name signifies, and the one in Xochiapulco, which means "the flower of the river Pulco." These two names are pure Aztec. "Jilote" is corn, and "Pec " is the Aztec termination for hill or mountain, while "Xochia" in Aztec is flower, and "Pulco" is river. On the hill, as you descend into Jilotepec, there is one of the grandest views on this continent. The little town is nearly three thousand feet below you, and the surrounding mountains are several thousand feet above you. Bishop Mallalieu, when I took him there, said that there was nothing in Switzerland to compare with it. It is truly a magnificent view. As you pass through it and ascend the mountains on the other side another magnificent view presents itself. Steep and rugged mountains rise up on every side, and yet you can see down into the valleys thousands of feet, and away off into the hot country, for you must always remember that the climate in Mexico is hot or cold, according to the altitude. This day we passed through three different kinds of climate-the cold, the temperate, and the hot. On reaching the top of the mountain that looks over Xochiapulco we found a tree, called "Xochitonal," the "flower of the morning," as its name indicates. Here the first rays of the sun strike in the morning, and hence its name. As the ladies saw the beautiful view of Xochiapulco for the first time their admiration was great. I have seen it, perhaps, scores of times, so that it was nothing particularly to me. The village looks as if it was located in a deep valley, but the fact is it is on the ledge of the mountain, and not more than half way down. In the valley, three or four thousand feet below you the river runs in a wild gorge, which, if it could be transplanted to the Catskills, would make the fortune of every man, woman, and child anywhere near it, and this is not disparaging the beauty of the Catskills. But the fact is there is nothing |