ary may go to his pillow and repose in safety. Not now as when our beloved pioneer felt the prison chains, and his "ministering angel," sleepless and alone, trembled for the robber's footsteps; nor yet as when she "Who sleeps in lone Helena's land," started at the fierce tiger's howl or fled from the battle-plain. No, God has done great things for us since those perilous times; now the noble Britons are there, and the tawny sepoys' * are there. The nightly parole (countersign?) is given, and without it none pass throughout those guarded grounds. True the missionary has not a carpeted floor, nor rich drapery, nor high-walled apartments, nor the soft shading lattice; save his simple musketoe-net, the low dene-leaf roof is his only canopy. Yet it is all he needs, and as the heavy rains fall upon it they serve as music to lull him to sleep; so this proves no trial. His table is spread, not with luxuries of American soil, but with dishes and fruits such as he never tasted in his native land; yet he soon acquires a relish for them, as they are good and wholesome; so that all this change is no great trial. are But the heavy rains pass away and the cloudless sky and sunny days return. Now the school-rooms vacated, the bamboo-huts left tenantless, and the natives are scattered; some have gone to their rice-fields, some to their jungle homes, and some (the native assistants) have gone to preach the precious gospel to the destitute. Now the pale missionary may be seen looking up his boat, and gathering supplies for a journey. Soon he, too, is in the jungle, going from village to village to visit and strengthen the churches. He has weary days and * Native soldiers. nights of peril, exposed to the "pestilence that walketh in darkness, and the destruction that wasteth at noon-day." He goes forth with medicines, physician to the body as well as to the soul; he listens to every tale of distress, and, if possible, applies a remedy. Yet this he does with cheerfulness, remembering that "it is enough for the servant, that he be as his Master;" so that in all these arduous toils he finds not his chief trials. Years pass away, and still the missionary is at his post, patiently hammering at the flinty rock of heathenism, which remains almost as unbroken and as huge as when he commenced. True, he has some trophies of his toils, his prayers, and his tears, which will one day gem the crown of his rejoicing; yet the great mass-the teeming millions are still going up, with undiminished zeal, to their temples, where "'Neath the idol's stony eye, Dark sacrifice is done." He looks on all this with sinking health, and with the secret measuring of his weary, exiled life; and he makes the anxious inquiry, "When will the heathen be turned into the ways of thy testimony, and the watchmen see eye to eye? Who will take my place when I am dead? Who will keep these lambs from the windings of error?" And if there be no echoing voice, "Here am 1, send me," from the land of plentythis, oh, this is a trial! "He toils on, unnoticed and unknown by the world, and almost forgotten by the church which sent him out, and in whose service he is wasting, drop by drop, the crimson current of life." The piercing thought comes home that his dearest friends have forgotten him; if they pray for him he knows it not; he seldom even hears from them; a straggling letter may now and then reach him-but ah, it was written long ago! and does not breathe the love which his own heart cherishes. And he deems it too true, that hearts firmly united by affection's ties, so widely and so long separated, may become at last estranged,—and this is a trial. a But my who once had a home in happy Ameri- Hence comes the stern necessity for sending their children to America to be educated-hence comes the separation worse than death! Oh, for language to express the mother's anguish, when she commits her children to the winds and waves of the faithless sea, and the uncertain guardianship of strangers! Alas! I cannot describe that which nothing else is like. The beloved and lamented Mrs. Comstock could only say, when she kissed her little ones for the last time, and sent them to the ship, The pious Osgood, on an errand of mercy, was once walking alone, near mid-day, over the sandy plains of India, when, said he, "I suddenly stopped, being almost wearied out, and asked myself, Who sees me through all this toil? Who will thank me?' My answering heart said, No one! Perhaps, the hardened Burmese may, at a future period, rejoice because of my labours; but there is no one that appreciates them now. I stand here alone upon these wide reaching plains, as speck in immensity. On the one hand are interminable jungles and millions of natives; on the other is 'old ocean,'" My Saviour, I do this for thee." The with its fifteen thousand miles separat- pious and beloved Mrs. Mason passed ing me from my kindred. mind was dark only for a moment, then a secret voice whispered, 'My witness is in heaven, and my record is on high !'" Indeed he was in one sense utterly alone in the midst of that vast multitude. Natives are not kindred spirits; years of association and familiarity with them do not take away the uncivilized expression and manner. Continued effort must be made to present truths, moral and divine, in a manner adapted to their comprehension; at the same time the missionary struggles to keep from degenerating to a level with the heathen, to maintain the character which he possessed when first he entered upon his work; and that too without the aid of civilized society and elevated associations, the worth of which he never knew until excluded from their influence. Surely these privations prove a trial. through the same; and others who are These are trials that beggar description! And that father was then the only missionary in all Arracan, where he had won his thousands to our exalted Redeemer. Then and there, too, he learned by sad experience that death, robbing him of his only earthly solace, is doubly dreadful to the lone missionary. Who can tell the depths of that Burmah has no schools or advantages for the child of civilized and Christian parents. For how can missionaries, gloom which gathered around his soli tary dwelling, when night came and found him the only watcher by the corpse of his beloved companion! Weeping natives crowded round and bent in silent reverence, but no civilized face was there, no brother, no sister, nor kindred there to mingle their tears, and perform the last sad rites. His own hands had closed her eyes in death, and straightened her limbs for the grave, and there he buried her alone, beneath the sheltering bamboo and the thick palm. I would now say what I so much wish to urge upon the friends of eastern missions. Rouse up and keep alive your sympathies for the missionary in heathen lands. Write to him frequently and at stated times-write to him whether your letter meets one in return or not. Remember his precious time, his enfeebled health, his increasing cares, and his short and toilsome life; remember that to all the endearing interests of his native land he is buried alive in a deep, dismal tomb, lighted only by the friendly rays of your communications; remember that, except by letter, missionaries take no time to visit friends, or receive their visits in return. Missionaries dearly prize letters from their early friends, as the following will show "There is an arrival! American colours are flying from a ship that is waiting the tide in the Salwen below us!" These welcome words were heard in a foreign land; and no sooner was the signal given than two of the missionaries shouldered their oars, and with quickened step proceeded to the wharf, unchained their boat, and put off for the ship. A few hours' row, from the hand of the well-accustomed natives, brought them alongside the American white-winged messenger. The common salutations were passed, and then the letter-bag was given. This being done, the boat was at once despatched to convey the precious gems speedily to the expectant group on shore. On this occasion the venerable Judson took up a letter addressed to himself in a wellknown hand, which assured him it was from a never-failing correspondent, hastily broke the seal, and bent over it with intense interest. I watched his countenance; his eye one moment flashed with delight, the next it swam in tears-tears of joy I knew, for his whole face showed what chords of sympathy had been touched, and what high and holy emotions were passing within. At length he dropped the letter, and turning to me, said, "That letter has a good big slice of sympathy in it, but my dear good friend has laid it down where it does not belong. However, I know where it does belong," and laying his hand on his breast, he said, "I will put it on there. During my thirty years' toil in Burmah my trials have never been of an outward nature, save the first two or three years. It is not what we eat, or drink, or wear, nor the house we occupy, nor the labour we perform, that makes this a land of trials, that is, not more so than is common to the lot of mortals. It is this utter moral desolation which you seethese millions without the bible, without civilization, in the place of which they have everything that is repulsive to our nature. The real trials of missionaries are very little known at home; but," he continued, laying his hand upon the letter, "I appreciate such sympathy and such kindness. The pure pearls are there, and God knows what they mean too." The devoted Mason writes from Tavoy, after seventeen years of faithful labour and signal success both among the Burmese and the Karens :—“There is no class of people who value Christian sympathy so highly as missionaries, and that because, exiled as they are from every pleasant association of their early lives, there is no class that so much need it. Missionaries profess to be Christians, but they make no pretensions to be stoics or philosophers." In speaking of a gift from a friend in America, he says, "It is a proof of sympathy from one whose prayers have done much more for me than his dollars ever can, though he should become as rich as John Jacob Astor. I would willingly credit the property to the Board, could I secure the remembrance. A wild flower from your green hills fragrant with the breath of Christian sympathy, would be as acceptable to not send them from time to time, along with your gold, the written pledges of your undiminished affections? They are worthy. And the missionary dearly values the friends of his early days; he thinks of them all as being the very same as when he left them; and when they, one after another, rise in imagination before him, he can most truly say "Where'er I roam, whatever lands I see, My heart untravelled fondly turns to thee." Remember, then, the lone missionary. His stout heart fears not the dangers of the jungle, nor the treachery of a heathen foe; but he shrinks from the thought that he is neglected and forgotten by those who have promised him a home in their affections, their sympathies, and their prayers. EXTRACTS FROM A RECENT WORK BY THE REV. JOHN ALDIS. MISTAKEN PHILOSOPHY. HERSCHELL'S powerful telescope discovered fixed stars, at immeasurable distances beyond any anciently known. Beside these, there appeared many distant and filmy masses. It was, at first, modestly suggested that they might be, and then it was fearlessly maintained that they were, masses of nebula, or worlds in different stages of condensation toward solidity. On this slender basis, an elaborate work was constructed, entitled, "Vestiges of Creation." The drift of it was to show, that the popular ideas of creation were all a dream. That in fact, there was no such thing. That our world, as all worlds, was originally an impalpable gas, which, being gradually condensed, successively developed the fish, the reptile, the quadruped, and man. Credulity of larger swallow than this demanded, superstition never desired. Yet it was put forth with a show of learning and inductive reasoning. VOL. XII-FOURTH SERIES. Many believed and rejoiced; it seemed to flatter their pride, and to sanction their irreligion. Many were troubled for the interests of their faith, and wondered "whereunto this would grow." But, lo! a larger telescope discovered that all was baseless and vain. The nebulous masses were found to be solid worlds, and the nebular theory vanished into thin air. IDOLATRY. The most ancient of existing religions are Brahminism and Budhism. These have had their temples over wide countries, and through long ages; and at their bidding, countless multitudes have paid their trustful homage, lavished their richest oblations, and even sacrificed their lives. When carefully considered, they are found to have had a common origin and character with the religions of Egypt and Babylon. The Greeks and Romans evidently derived their religion from these last. Essen tially, theirs was but one religion, a sort of pantheism, symbolized and adorned. Physical facts and principles were impersonated before the eye in symbolic form, and mixed up with the historical memorials of each particular nation. They expressed the full amount of physical science which the learned could boast; and as the scientific were quite as much addicted to imagination as to reflection, they were satisfied. The multitude were ignorant, enslaved, and credulous. They only needed something to impress their senses, and to leave room for the play of their devotional instincts. They had neither the inclination to ask for evidence, nor the capacity to judge it. Their religion never challenged investigation, and never underwent it. Its pretensions were local and tolerant. It thundered no denunciations over disobedience and unbelief, but it quietly assumed its supremacy by its flattery and kindness. Each person was satisfied with his own, religion, and respected that of his neighbour. Every one said, Mine suits me, and yours suits you. The result was, that no religion was put to the test, either of reason or persecution. And when it had gradually taken its place in the popular mind and manners, who would think of questioning it? No conviction existed, and there was nothing to produce a conviction, that the religion of the country should be tried, whether true or false. Some condemned the Homeric representations of the gods, as degrading or false, but no one denied the gods themselves. Even Socrates, the most enlightened and conscientious amongst the Greeks, practised and applauded the popular worship. Art and power had exerted all their resources to adorn and honour it. Architecture had reared its temples, sculpture had formed its statues, and painting had given a glowing life to its most beautiful and awful conceptions. Rank i and wealth, learning and valour, had paid it their profoundest homage. Philosophers from the academy or the grove, magistrates from the senate-house, conquerors from the battle field, and monarchs from their thrones, had gone to the temple, to burn incense on its altars, and to consecrate their treasures at its shrine. Who would wish, or dare to question such a religion? A questioner did appear. A plain, despised, and hated gospel, led on by a few Jewish peasants, did ask, at length, by what authority it reigned. The old religion was then in the plenitude of its power and glory. It mantled itself in its beauty and might. When questioned, it was angry and threatened, while it sharpened its sword, and kindled its fires. Yet, in spite of all, men saw it was confounded so soon as it was confronted. It was dumb, and sickened and died: and where is the religion of Rome and Athens now ? In another form, it is being questioned again in India. It has every advantage, which learning and influence and subtlety and secular interest can give, and yet it gains nothing, but it loses ground every day. Its suttee fires are extinguished, its pilgrims stopped, its temples abandoned, its deluded multitudes are turning to another faith, and the wisest of its votaries despair of saving it from ruin. It is the grand mark of superstition, that if it is cast into the furnace of trial it is consumed. MAHOMEDANISM. Its growth was most rapid, and its form colossal. Its millions of believers may be reckoned from the western coast of Africa to the wall of China and the Indian sea. How was this empire reared? At least, there is nothing miraculous in its history. Mahomet was a man of great talents and undaunted courage. By birth and marriage he was connected with the |