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THE TESTIMONY OF MISSIONS TO THE

Why do men proceed to measure the Gospel by their own reasonings, and alter it according to the suggestions of a vain philosophy, as if they knew what the sinner requires better than God? Have they themselves tried it? No! they do not think they need it. How, then, can they be qualified to form any judgment on such a subject? They have prejudices but no experience. Let them stand aside, and not interfere with its administration to the sick.

This is one use of Missionary publications-there are ever coming in, from distant lands, new evidences to the saving power of pure Christianity. They come in from the east and west, from the north and from the south. These are published in the pages of our Missionary periodicals, and are thus made known. Hence, in this day, when infidelity, under various forms, is so busy amongst us, trying to deceive men and draw them away from the truth as it is in Jesus, Missionary effort comes as it were from abroad to help us, and, in new and beautiful facts, such as remind us of the early victories of Christianity, bears testimony to this-that the gospel of Christ is now what it ever was, "The power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth."

Let us add one more of these testimonies to the crowd of witnesses which have gone before. It is from Regent-town, Sierra Leone, and from the pen of the African pastor, the Rev. George Nicol. Any one that entertains any doubt as to its genuineness can write to him. Sierra Leone is not now so far off: there is a mail steamer every month. Sometimes persons pretend to discredit Missionary reports; but we always give the names of those from whom we have received them, and in the way we have pointed out their genuineness may be proved. Here is the fact

66

Parsonage, Regent, Sierra Leone, March 20, 1866-Our work is progressing. The subscriptions to the Church Missionary Society last year amounted to near 3007., and we had a larger sum for the Bible Society than had been realized for years in this colony. The subscriptions for the Pastorate Fund are not yet closed, but they bid fair to double the receipt of the past year. Our people generally are alive to their great duty. I have recently had great encouragement in my work, in the happy and peaceful death of a member of my congregation-a dear servant of Christ. Travellers and writers who, openly and before the world, vilify Christian Missionaries, and write mil upon their work of faith and labour of love, know not what they say.

"Mammy Hagar, as the subject of my remark was called, was of the Eboe tribe, from the Niger river, and was brought into the colony some forty years ago in the usual way, i.e. by British cruisers, and was baptized by the late Missionary, Johnson. She confessed she did not fully understand then the nature of the Gospel when she was baptized and admitted into church communion; but she was wonderfully kept by God's grace, so that, from the time she was baptized till her death, which occurred in December last, she has been a consistent member, humble, attending to all the means of grace. Poor as she was, and a widow, and depending on the charity of friends and the small allowance

PARENT ROOT FROM WHENCE THEY SPRUNG.

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of twopence a day granted to invalids and persons in her situation, she always managed to pay her class coppers regularly every week, and subscribe her mite to the Church Missionary Society and the Bible Society, and, in fact, to every object brought before her notice in this parish. Three years ago she was brought near death's door: we gave her up. I felt deeply for her, because she was constantly at our house, and was to all my children as a grandmother. It pleased the Lord, however, to raise her up once more, contrary to her own expectation, and the expectation of her friends. Her appearance in church at her place, after her long and dangerous illness, was an occasion of great joy to all the members of the congregation, and hearty thanksgiving was publicly given for her. Still she never felt herself all right again. It was plain to all that she was much shaken; and in October last there were unmistakeable signs that the earthly tabernacle would soon crumble. She was missed in church-laid by with severe pains and general debility. I visited her; and felt in my own mind that with her it was only a question of weeks, perhaps of days; that soon her happy spirit would be summoned into the presence of her Lord. It was now that Jesus was glorified in His servant. Reduced to a mere skeleton, here she was, lying on a mat, near the ashes, really so-the picture of a dying saint. Her sick chamber now became the scene of great encouragement. She said to me on one occasion, "Heaven is not far, heaven live here," pointing to the palm of her hand. "I want to go rest." Then she began to repeat, although she could not read a letter of the alphabet, (and this, by the way, shows how the memories, as well as, I trust, the hearts of our people are well stored with Bible knowledge), that beautiful text, "Come unto me, all ye that labour, &c." "Heavy-laden! heavy laden! me, Hagar John, have rest." "Glory to God!" All who were present with myself burst into tears. But she turned round and said to me, "My son, my master, why do you cry?" I replied, "We all envy you: we would rather say like St. Paul, "To be with Christ is far better." "No, no," she said, "my son, you have great work to do. I am going home: mind your work; see Jesus near you." "Hold on-patiencewithout patience no man can see the kingdom of heaven." After a short pause, I repeated her remark by way of confirmation—“Heaven, it is true, is not far, it is quite near." She turned round and said, with a solemnity I shall not soon forget, "Master, it be far, very far from the wicked; but near, very near to the righteous," pointing to her palm again. On another occasion when I visited her, I read those beautiful words of our Saviour's, "Let not your heart be troubled," &c. As soon as I began, she took it up, and repeated it in broken bits, if I may so call it the first verse, then part of the second and the latter part of the third verse, exactly like one who had never learnt to read, but who could repeat bits of Scripture by rote, by constantly attending our Bible classes and our church services. When she got to the end of the third verse, she said, with consciousness of being perfectly correct, "That is 14th John: not so master?" I answered in the affirmative. She said, "Jesus prepare fine, fine, fine room for poor Hagar, and fine, fine, fine clothes" (an African mode of expressing great intensity of feeling) "no trouble, no pains, no cry, no sin for ever and ever. Amen!"

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"BLOW THE TRUMPET IN SION."

"After this noble testimony of the value of Christ's Gospel, she spoke very little. She rather wished not to be disturbed, being engaged in communion with God. Thus, after a few days of weariness and suffering, she fell asleep (for it was a falling asleep) in Jesus. A large company of Christian friends followed her remains to the grave, thanking God for having delivered our sister from the miseries of this sinful world, and given her such bright hopes of an immortality beyond the grave.

"Now we may calmly ask, Can Mohammedanism do this? Can infidelity accomplish this? But this is only one result of Missionary labour. Thousands have entered the portais of the New Jerusalem in heathen lands, having had their robes washed in the blood of Jesus, whom Missionaries preach as the hope of the world to the perishing heathen."

Thus one soweth and another reapeth. William Johnson sowed much good seed, and his successors in the work have been ever since reaping in full ears which that seed has yielded; and soon "both he that soweth and he that reapeth shall rejoice together."

"BLOW THE TRUMPET IN SION."

JOEL ii. 15.

The following passage is from a work by the Dean of Glou cester, which a friend has pointed out to us—

Awake, arouse! be up, be doing. What! shall souls perish while you sleep? Shall hell enlarge its borders while you loiter? Shall Satan push on his triumphs, and you look on indifferent? Shall superstition thrive, and you be silent? Shall ignorance grow darker, and you care not? Forbid it, every feeling of pity, tenderness, humanity, compassion. Forbid it, every thought of a soul's boundless worth. Forbid it, all the unutterable wonders wrapt in the name eternity. Forbid it, every pious wish to snatch immortals from undying woe, and to upraise them to undying bliss. Forbid it, all your love to Jesus' glorious name—all your deep debt to his atoning blood- all your delight in his appeasing cup. Forbid it, all your hope to see his face in peace, and sit beside Him on his throne, and ever bask in heaven's unclouded sunshine. Forbid it, your deliverance from hell, and your title-deeds to heaven. Forbid it, your constant prayer, " Hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done." Forbid it, your allegiance to his rule-the statutes of his kingdom-the livery which you wear. Forbid it, his awakening example-his solemn and most positive command. Forbid it, every motive swelling in a Christian heart. Up, then, and act. Soul-death meets you at each turn. The world in its vast wilderness perishes untaught. The spacious fields are neither tilled nor sown. The many millions are heathen, and therefore rushing hell-ward. Help, then, the Missionary cause. You may-you can-you should. The need is for men, for means. Can you go forth? Let conscience answer. If not, you yet can pray and give. Write shame, write base ingratitude, write treason to Christ's cause on every day which sees no effort from you for the heathen world.- The United Tribes, by Dean Law (p. 254).

* Matthew xxvi. 39. 42.

October, 18C6.

( 109 )

INDIAN SUPERSTITIONS.

WE have often read of, and wondered at, the cruel practices of the Red Indians of America; the stealthy way in which they carried on war; the sudden and horrible whoop; the indiscriminate slaughter of the weak

L

AMERICAN INDIAN SEER, CHARMING A GIRL WITH A RAY OF LIGHT.

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INDIAN SUPERSTITIONS.

and defenceless, as well as of the strong, who had fought to defend themselves; the scalping of the prostrate foe; the protracted tortures to which they were wont to subject their prisoners; but let it be remembered that the character of this portion of the human family has been thus painfully developed under the influence of a dark and gloomy superstition.

The Indians believe that the world was created by a supreme spirit, whom they call Monedo, or Maneto, and Ozheaud, "the maker." They apply to him, also, the terms of " Upholder of the World," "the Master of Life," and "the Father." They regard him as dwelling in the upper atmosphere, or Ishpiming, and locate him in the sun or moon. He is, in fact, to them a sublime abstraction, so benevolent and good, that it is not necessary to propitiate his wrath. He neither rewards good, nor does he punish evil; but commits the practical government of the world to demi-gods of every possible hue, malignant and benign, who fill the earth, the air, the water. The evil spirits range themselves under the power of Mudje Monedo, the great spirit of evil; while the good spirits are supposed to be under the chief spirit of good; but these latter are so good, so quiescent, that the malign spirits have the mastery, and rule all as they wish. To such the chief offerings are made.

Thus creation, according to the Indian notions, is filled with spirits, benign and malignant-some against him, some for him. These manitos are believed to be generally invisible and immaterial; but they can assume any form in the range of the visible creation, and even, when occasion calls for it, take their place among inanimate objects. In communicating with men they are supposed to assume the human form, and appear as giants, dwarfs, or cannibals. They take shelter, when it serves their purpose, in a bird or wolf, a turtle or a snake, and the mind of the Indian is filled with a succession of false hopes and fears from the cradle to the grave. In a word, he is spirit-ridden, and, being under the fear of an invisible agency of evil spirits, is in bondage all his days. This superstitious dread influences him in every action of life. It is his guiding motive in peace or war. He follows the chase under its direction, and his very amusements are tinctured with it. Recognising malignant spirits on every hand, he is kept in constant fear of their power. He is visited by them in his dreams; he hears them talk in the tempests; he sees them in dark clouds; they beset him in almost every angry sound which the jarring elements can make; and they appear in the very insects of curious shape that crawl out of the earth. He attributes sickness and death to the power of these malignant, although subordinate gods, and thinks that there is no temporal evil which they are not suffered to bring. Fear is thus on every hand; and the forest, as he passes through it, is full of warning sounds and threatening signs. The Indian may thus be called Magor-Missabib.

It is of these superstitious terrors that the priests, or soothsayers, take advantage, and acquire influence and authority over the tribes. Of these there are three classes, the Jossakeeds, prophets, scers; the Medas, professors of medical magic; the Wabenos, whose orgies are always performed at night. To these associations candidates are admitted with great ceremonies, and after long trials and preparations, during which the secret charms of the members and fellows are exhibited to each other