Is every believer endeavouring to carry out the command of his Lord and Master? Is every church endeavouring to carry out the command of the great Head of the Church? We very much fear that neither the individual, nor the churches are doing their duty in this all-important matter.

The inequality in the contributions of our churches must have a cause or causes. One of the causes of the inequality, we believe, is the indifference of many professing Christians to all missionary work. Thousands of professed believers in the Lord Jesus, in the United Kingdom, are in possession of the Word of God themselves; they hear the Word of God preached regularly and faithfully, and they are, at the same time, perfectly satisfied to allow the millions of heathen, who are enveloped in thick darkness, to perish without a knowledge of the Saviour. How different are the feelings of such to the feelings of the poet, expressed in the following beautiful lines:

"Saved ourselves by Jesus' blood, Let us now draw nigh to God: Many round us blindly stray; Moved with pity, let us pray— Pray, that they who now are blind, Soon the way of truth may find." Another cause of the inequality mentioned is the ignorance of professors respecting missionary work. And I fear

that, as ministers, we are not blameless in this matter; at least I take blame to myself for not having endeavoured, to the extent which I ought, to acquaint myself with the mission-fields of the Society, and with the missionary operations of our devoted and faithful missionaries.

We want, as ministers, to give our churches and congregations more information about the fields which our Society is interested in, and the labours of our beloved brethren, the missionaries, who are labouring in connection with the Society; were we to do so, the people generally would take a deeper interest in the work; we should have larger contributions and more earnest prayers offered for the success of the work.

Other causes of the inequality are bad methods of collecting the money. Passing over the bad methods at present, I shall say a word or two as to what we ought to do in this matter,

The Wesleyan Methodists make every child that is of age a collector to their Missionary Society. Why should not our churches appoint their children collectors to our Society? Are our children less talented, or less apt for the work than the children of the Wesleyan Methodists? I trow not.

There ought to be a missionary-card in the hand of every child; a missionary-box in every class in our Sabbath-schools,

85

There ought also to be a missionary-box in every Baptist family, to help swell the amounts contributed on the Anniversary Sabbath, and the contributions of the monthly prayer-meeting. Good methods of collecting mean good and large collections.

Further, another cause of the above inequality is the great want of more officers. Local secretaries and treasurers must be multiplied.

A multiplication of good earnest secretaries, with faithful treasurers to help them in their work, and closer and better organisation in this matter, would bring in quite double the amount that is collected for the Society at present. The deplorable state of the heathen world ought to move us to more activity-much more activityin our efforts to sustain our Missionary Society. "It is stated in the history of England," says Dr. Phillip, in an address delivered at one of the London Anniversaries, "that when the first missionary who arrived in Kent presented himself before the King, to solicit permission to preach the Gospel in his dominions, after long deliberations, when a negative was about to be put upon his application, an aged counsellor, with his head silvered over with grey hairs, rose, and by the following speech, obtained the permission which was requested: Here we are,' said the orator, 'like birds of passage: we know not whence we come or whither we are going; if this man can tell us, for God's sake let him speak!' And I would say, if there are nine hundred millions of our fellowcreatures who, like the birds of passage, know not whence they came, or whither they are going, for God's sake, let us send them the Gospel, which will tell them whence they came, and which is able to make them wise unto salvation!

Beloved brethren, does not the fact that so many millions of our fellow-creatures are still in the darkness and death of heathenism-the solemn fact that thousands of heathen have died and perished in this darkness since we have assembled within these walls, on this occasion, cry aloud with the trumpet-voice of anguish and distress?

O ye saints of the Most High God! organise better, contribute more largely and generously; pray more earnestly than ever for your Missionary Society and for us! Shall the cry be made in vain ? From the depths of your souls I believe you all utter the emphatic No!

I cannot but believe that you will leave this Conference determined for the future to marshal all the forces within your power, that you may do your part to carry out the command of King Jesus, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.'

By un mitres of the house the blood and four were wi together, and a portion was put lintel and the two side poets," the remaining portion being made into a care and putinwide the house, On my inquiring "What mean ye by this service ?" I was informed that it was intended to propitiate the evil #pirits which wandered about during the darkness of night, and which, if not supproand, would destroy their crops and cuttle, and strike them down with disease and death. Moreover I was told that when Hem avil apliita naw the blood they would Im plonend and "pass-over" them without doing any injury. To see such an observ An

among a people beyond the boundary of the nivilised world struck me as very remarkable; and though they had never on a Bible, and never heard of formaliton

Wayans, I could not but regard the Atle, fogether with the come for the ab mano, a damnded from, and illustra How of the dewish pupuy

Duty as the pod toutahtood hound was wunder the men of total Idhood, would for god himself out from well aptit

10 At ter 1 f the hiss 10 late spring r tears returns iner L I never a question I ves med namata via work teome of the suster ist, he replied tise it would depend SE VYHLATARC. I he were a good 124 voul aer some nobler form: than if he were a tad man in might ******** the body of a beast a turd or a That the sins of the fathers were ten in an ite manner, visited vp the children, the disciples of Jesus must have been fully aware. Whether they had Lowever, any knowledge of, or belief in, the doctrine of the transmigration of souls, is not so easy to decide. If they had, it is easy to understand how they came to ask the question, "Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?" Coming from a Hindoo, the question would be perfectly natural.

From whatever cause, however, the man's blindness might have proceeded, the power of Jesus was adequate to his case; and the works of God were manifested in his restoation to sight. And so it shall be found that the ability of Jesus is equal to the wants of all the spiritually blind, who apply to Him, (no matter from what cause their blindness may proce nd though like the man born blir ay not know the exact manne means of their healing, theless, be able to that whereas I W

em never

ng I know, ee."

I was scarcely sixteen when, after working in a nursery garden near my parents for about a twelvemonth, I was engaged to fill a responsible situation in Cheshire. The day arrived when I had to bid farewell to my father, mother, brothers, and sisters. My mother proposed to accompany me to the boat which was to convey me across the Firth of Forth. My heart, though glad at the inviting prospect of removing to a better situation, could not help feeling some emotion natural to one of my age. When we came within sight of the spot where we were to part, perhaps never again to meet in this world, she said, "Now, my Robert, let us stand here a few minutes, for I wish to ask one favour of you before we part, and I know you will not refuse doing what your mother asks." "What is it, mother?" I inquired.

"Do promise me, first, that you will do what I am now going to ask and I shall tell you."

"No, mother, I cannot till you tell me what your wish is."

"O Robert, can you think for a moment that I shall ask you, my son, to do anything that is not right? Do not I love you ?"

"Yes, mother, I know you do; but I do not like to make promises which I may not be able to fulfil."

I kept my eyes fixed on the ground. I was silent, trying to resist the rising emotion. She sighed deeply. I lifted my eyes, and saw the big tears rolling down the cheeks which were wont to press mine. I was conquered; and as soon as I could recover speech, I said, "O mother, ask what you will, and I shall do it!"

"I only ask you whether you will read a chapter in the Bible every morning, and another every evening."

"I interrupted by saying, 'Mother, you know I read my Bible.""

"I know you do; but you do not read it regularly, or as a duty you owe to God its Author." And she added, "Now I shall return home with a happy heart, inasmuch as you have promised to read the Scriptures daily. O Robert, my son, read much in the New Testament. Read much in the Gospels, the blessed Gospels. There you cannot well go astray. If you pray, the Lord Himself will teach you."

I parted from my beloved mother, now long gone to that mansion about which she loved to speak. I went on my way, and ere long found myself among strangers. My charge was an important one for a

youth; and though possessing a muscular frame, and a mind full of energy, it required all to keep pace with the duties which devolved upon me. I lived at a considerable distance from what are called the means of grace, and the Sabbaths were not always at my command. I met with no one who appeared to make religion their chief concern. I mingled, when opportunities offered, with the gay and godless in what were considered innocent amusements, where I soon became a favourite; but I never forgot my promise to my mother.

I had, like most Scotch youths in those days, the Bible in two small volumes. These I read (remembering her last words), chiefly in the New Testament; but it was only as a pleasing duty I owed to her. I thus became familiar with the Gospels, notwithstanding my inattention to what I read. At length I became uneasy, and then unhappy. The question would sometimes, even when my hands were at work, dart across my mind, "What think ye of Christ ?" which I dared not to answer. A hard struggle followed. I could have wished to have ceased reading, but the very thought would raise the image of my mother before me. I tried hard to stifle conviction, but I could not help reading much in the Epistles, and particularly in the Epistle to the Romans. This I did with an earnestness I tried in vain to subdue. I felt wretched, but still I did not pray; till one night I arose in a state of horror from a terrific dream. I fell on my knees, and felt as if my sins, like a great mountain, were tumbling down upon me, and that there was but a step between me and the place of woe. Then followed the struggle between hope and despair. I tried to reform-not by avoiding grossly immoral conduct (for I had never been guilty of that), but by forsaking foolish and worldly company, vain thoughts, and wicked imaginations.

For many weeks I was miserable. I wished to feel that I was converted, but I could not believe I was. I thought I had the faith required, and that I had repented or turned to the Lord, and could adopt the words "To whom shall I go but to Thee, O Jesus?" but still my soul was like a ship in a tempest. At last I made a resolve to become as wicked as I could make myself, and then if converted I should be so sensible of the change that all doubts would vanish. I looked over this awful precipice over which I was about to leap,

No. I.

"And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt."-Exodus xii. 13.

AMONG the Hill tribes of Orissa there has been, for untold ages, a strong belief in the necessity and efficacy of sacrificial blood. Until a few years ago one of these tribes, the Khonds, was accustomed to offer human sacrifices. Although these barbarous rites have been happily suppressed by the humane efforts of government, the people still cling to the idea of sacrifice, and in lieu of human victims now offer up lambs or kids. As I was passing along the street of a Khond village I saw preparations were being made for a sacrifice. In the course of a few minutes the victim-a young goat-was brought to the appointed spot, when its head was smitten off with a large knife. The carcase was then held up and the blood allowed to run into a bason containing fine flour. By the mistress of the house the blood and flour were mixed together, and a portion was put "upon the lintel and the two side posts," the remaining portion being made into a cake and put inside the house, On my inquiring "What mean ye by this service ?" I was informed that it was intended to propitiate the evil spirits which wandered about during the darkness of night, and which, if not suppressed, would destroy their crops and cattle, and strike them down with disease and death. Moreover I was told that when the evil spirits saw the blood they would be pleased and "pass-over" them without doing any injury. To see such an observance among a people beyond the boundary of the civilized world struck me as very remarkable; and though they had never seen a Bible, and never heard of Israelites or Egytians, I could not but regard the rite, together with the reason for its observance, as descended from, and illustrative of, the Jewish passover.

Only as the poor benighted Khond was under the cover of sacrificial blood, could he regard himself secure from evil spirits.

In order, then, that we may be rendered safe from the destroying angel, how important that we obtain and retain an interest in "Christ our passover who is sacrificed for us."

No. II.

"Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind ?"—John ix. 7.

The Hindoos believe that existence is an endless succession of births, and that many of the evils, and defects, in this life, arise out of sins committed in some former state of existence. In this way they account for blindness, deafness, lameness, and other calamities. Moreover many of the blessings enjoyed are supposed to have sprung from virtuous or meritorious conduct in a former birth. In answer to a question I once proposed to a man as to what would become of his spirit after death, he replied that he did not know, that it would depend on circumstances; that if he were a good man his spirit would enter into some nobler form; that if he were a bad man it might enter into the body of a beast, a bird or a worm." That the sins of the fathers were often, in an unmistakable manner, visited upon the children, the disciples of Jesus must have been fully aware. Whether they had however, any knowledge of, or belief in, the doctrine of the transmigration of souls, is not so easy to decide. If they had, it is easy to understand how they came to ask the question, "Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?" Coming from a Hindoo, the question would be perfectly natural.

From whatever cause, however, the man's blindness might have proceeded, the power of Jesus was adequate to his case; and the works of God were manifested in his restoration to sight. And so it shall be found that the ability of Jesus is equal to the wants of all the spiritually blind, who apply to Him, (no matter from what cause their blindness may proceed)—and though like the man born blind, they may not know the exact manner, or time, or means of their healing, shall each of them nevertheless, be able to say-"one thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see."

I was scarcely sixteen when, after working in a nursery garden near my parents for about a twelvemonth, I was engaged to fill a responsible situation in Cheshire. The day arrived when I had to bid farewell to my father, mother, brothers, and sisters. My mother proposed to accompany me to the boat which was to convey me across the Firth of Forth. My heart, though glad at the inviting prospect of removing to a better situation, could not help feeling some emotion natural to one of my age. When we came within sight of the spot where we were to part, perhaps never again to meet in this world, she said, "Now, my Robert, let us stand here a few minutes, for I wish to ask one favour of you before we part, and I know you will not refuse doing what your mother asks."

"What is it, mother ?" I inquired.

"Do promise me, first, that you will do what I am now going to ask and I shall tell you."

"No, mother, I cannot till you tell me what your wish is."

"O Robert, can you think for a moment that I shall ask you, my son, to do anything that is not right? Do not I love you ?"

"Yes, mother, I know you do; but I do not like to make promises which I may not be able to fulfil."

I kept my eyes fixed on the ground. I was silent, trying to resist the rising emotion. She sighed deeply. I lifted my eyes, and saw the big tears rolling down the cheeks which were wont to press mine. I was conquered; and as soon as I could recover speech, I said, "O mother, ask what you will, and I shall do it!"

"I only ask you whether you will read a chapter in the Bible every morning, and another every evening."

"I interrupted by saying, 'Mother, you know I read my Bible.'

"I know you do; but you do not read it regularly, or as a duty you owe to God its Author." And she added, "Now I shall return home with a happy heart, inasmuch as you have promised to read the Scriptures daily. O Robert, my son, read much in the New Testament. Read much in the Gospels, the blessed Gospels. There you cannot well go astray. If you pray, the Lord Himself will teach you."

I parted from my beloved mother, now long gone to that mansion about which she loved to speak. I went on my way, and ere long found myself among strangers. My charge was an important one for a

youth; and though possessing a muscular frame, and a mind full of energy, it required all to keep pace with the duties which devolved upon me. I lived at a considerable distance from what are called the means of grace, and the Sabbaths were not always at my command. I met with no one who appeared to make religion their chief concern. I mingled, when opportunities offered, with the gay and godless in what were considered innocent amusements, where I soon became a favourite; but I never forgot my promise to my mother.

I had, like most Scotch youths in those days, the Bible in two small volumes. These I read (remembering her last words), chiefly in the New Testament; but it was only as a pleasing duty I owed to her. I thus became familiar with the Gospels, notwithstanding my inattention to what I read. At length I became uneasy, and then unhappy. The question would sometimes, even when my hands were at work, dart across my mind, "What think ye of Christ ?" which I dared not to answer. A hard struggle followed. I could have wished to have ceased reading, but the very thought would raise the image of my mother before me. I tried hard to stifle conviction, but I could not help reading much in the Epistles, and particularly in the Epistle to the Romans. This I did with an earnestness I tried in vain to subdue. I felt wretched, but still I did not pray; till one night I arose in a state of horror from a terrific dream. I fell on my knees, and felt as if my sins, like a great mountain, were tumbling down upon me, and that there was but a step between me and the place of woe. Then followed the struggle between hope and despair. I tried to reform-not by avoiding grossly immoral conduct (for I had never been guilty of that), but by forsaking foolish and worldly company, vain thoughts, and wicked imaginations.

For many weeks I was miserable. I wished to feel that I was converted, but I could not believe I was. I thought I had the faith required, and that I had repented or turned to the Lord, and could adopt the words "To whom shall I go but to Thee, O Jesus?" but still my soul was like a ship in a tempest. At last I made a resolve to become as wicked as I could make myself, and then if converted I should be so sensible of the change that all doubts would vanish. I looked over this awful precipice over which I was about to leap,