"It was almost as much as I could bear, to witness many of these savages, who had never been subdued till they heard the name of Jesus, coming 1 children and professing their faith Christ alone for salvation." We have not space to refer more at length to this most interesti Mission, but the following incident from Mr. Duncan's journal (an illust tion of which appears on our first page) will show that his labour has n been "in vain in the Lord" "Oct. 11, 1862-Just as I was rising this morning I received intelligence that poor Quthray, the young cannibal chief, was dying. I have frequently visited him during his illness, and was with him for a long time a few nights ago. As he has long and earnestly desired baptism, and expressed in such clear terms his repentance for his sins, and his faith in the Saviour of sinners, I told him that I would myself baptize him before he died, unless a minister from Victoria arrived in time to do it. He always appeared most thankful for my visits, and, with the greatest force he could command, thanked me for my promise. Accordingly, this morning I proceeded to the solemn work of admitting a brand plucked from the burning into the visible church of Christ by baptism. Though I was not sent here to baptize, but to preach the Gospel, yet I had no fear but that I was doing what was pleasing to God in administering that sacred rite to the poor dying man, as an officially appointed person was not within several hundred miles of him. I found the sufferer apparently on the very verge of eternity, but quite sensible, supported by his wife on one side and another woman on the other, in a sitting posture on his lowly couch spread upon the ground. I addressed him at once, reminding him of the promise I had made to him, and why. I also spoke some words of advice to him, to which he paid most earnest attention, though his cough would scarcely permit him to have a moment's rest. A person near ex I ea pressed a fear that he did not unde stand what I said, being so weak a near death, but he quickly, and wi great emphasis, exclaimed, 'I hea I understand.' While I was prayi the expression of countenance was mo lovely. With his face turned upwa he seemed to be deeply engaged prayer. I baptized him, and gave hi the name of Philip Atkinson. nestly besought the Lord to ratify i heaven what He had permitted me t do in his name, and to receive the sou of the poor dying penitent before Him He had the same resignation and peac which he has evinced throughout hi sickness, weeping for his sins, depend ing all upon the Saviour, confident o pardon, and rejoicing in hope. "This is the man of whom I have had to write more than once to the Society. Oh the dreadful and revolt ing things which I have witnessed him do. He was one of the two principal actors in the first horrid scene I saw at Fort Simpson about four and a half years ago, an account of which I sent home, namely, a poor slave woman being murdered in cold blood, thrown on the beach, and then torn to pieces and eaten by two naked savages, who were supported by a crew of singers and the noise of drums. This man was one of those naked cannibals. "Glorious change! See him clothed and in his right mind, weeping-weeping sore for his sins-expressing to all around his firm belief in the Saviour, and dying in peace. Bless the Lord for all his goodness!" Mr. Duncan has, during the past year, been joined by two other Missionaries. We commend them and their work to the sympathy and prayers of the friends of our Society. Subscribers and Collectors of one Penny a week are entitled to a copy of this Paper free. W. M. Watts, Crown Court, Temple Bar. CHRISTIAN FRIENDS We have two objects in view in presenting you with a sketch of a Missionary's dwelling in one of our Mission stations in India, viz. Masulipatam. The first is, to awaken your sympathy and call forth your prayers on behalf of our brethren in that station. A most terrible calamity bas befallen the Mission there in consequence of a hurricane having visited the place, and swept away almost all traces of the Mission, so far at least as the premises are concerned. Through the great mercy of God, the lives of the Missionaries have been preserved, but the whole of their property, furniture, books, &c., have been destroyed, and the loss of life among the natives is calculated to be not less than 30,000. The sea rose through the force of the hurricane, and swept the whole place, inundating the town, washing away streets, totally destroying the greater part of the town, and extending many miles inland. The following most touching account of the catastrophe is taken from one of the Missionaries on the spot, written to a private friend— On the afternoon of Tuesday, the 1st of November, the wind was а little high. Up to five the boys at school were laughing at it breaking the boughs of trees. I left the school at about a quarter before six, having seen the doors closed well, and, as I supposed, all made tight, our school being now held in the house opposite to the hospital. Several large trees were then down, but still it was nothing to be alarmed at. I walked home with ease in a heavy rain. The wind hurried round from the West to the North and East, and about eight it was a most furious hurricane, with rain in torrents, and we were obliged to go about in the house with umbrellas, otherwise we were immediately wet through. It did not fall in drops, but streams. About this time the servants and their children came in drenched. The water on the floors was now one or two or three inches deep from the rain. Four of our young people were busy pushing up the bolts of the east doors and windows, which continually drew with the force of the wind. At last the bolts broke, and they came and joined me in the hall. The servants, wives, and children had gone into my west bath-room. We stood at my bed-room door watching, As room you well know in the western In We waters he had climbed a tree. Byaud-by, "More are coming," was the cry, and Ratnam and his wife and two children, and Bushanam, wailing for wife and child, and their servants, crowded in. We have then a most melancholy picture of the scenes which followed as the morning broke, and revealed the terrible loss of life which had taken place during the night. Then came in the tales of woe; thirty-six at Mr. Sharkey's not to be found. Mallayya's wife's body found in the hedge of their compound, next mine; his at the jail. Mrs. Jamieson and children gone, our school-house a wreck. Sweepers all gone; Ratnam's servants, wife, and children, and house, all gone. Gardener's two children died the next day of want. The servants were totally paralyzed with cold and sorrow. However, I tried to rouse them. The disaster was so great we were perfectly at a loss to know how to begin to repair our loss. No pen can express the heartrending tales of woe constantly coming in-the most marvellous escapes. The sorrow was, however, not what you would have supposed. One, weeping for two or four children, hears of another family of nine, or eleven, or thirty, or thirty six, swept off. Dear Lakshmi's body (she was, we hope, a believer on Jesus, and just about to be married to our excellent G.Kristayya) was found at Mr. Sharp's; her mother's at the Roman-Catholic chapel. Mallayya, too, was a true believer, and a very valuable teacher, and had only been married about four months. Bushanam is in deep sorrow: his wife and child gone, his clothes and brass pots. His and Ratnam's books every one gone. Their prizes, their Scott's "Commentaries," given by Bishop Dealtry: they are both most destitute, and now living with me. As is my loss, so is that, if not greater, of the dear Sharps and Sharkeys. In loss of life mine is great-Mallayya and wife, and Bushanam's wife and child; but dear Mr. Sharkey's is most awful. In one night-in the dark-in five hours-all unexpectedly. Respecting Mr. Sharkey's loss, alluded to above, we have his own most melancholy tale of the loss of thirty-three of the girls of his boarding school. Our children behaved nobly, and we were enabled to pray together with great calmness, and commit ourselves to Him who once said, "Peace, be still." The water rapidly increased in depth. I was waist deep in it, when the water suddenly stopped, and receded as fast as it came. We then removed the children to another room, and wished for the day. The rain was pouring into the room in torrents, and the wind was still violent. The night was dark, and we had no light after three A.M. There were two things I cannot adequately describe the feeling of gratitude when the water began to recede, and the sense of joy with which we hailed the first gleam of morning light. "O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive." God has been to us a strong rock—a house of defence to save us. During the night we had often thought of the children in the bungalow adjoining our house. We were not able to render them any assistance; and though the bungalow was a strong building, we had many fears. The next morning told us what had been done. My heart breaks to write it : no less than thirty-three children were either drowned in, or swept away by, the flood! The building stood, but every door in it was carried off, and the waves knocked down every thing before it. The hospital, in which there were several children, and which adjoined the bungalow, came down. Every article of furniture was washed away, and only twenty-five of our dear children were spared to tell us of the dying shrieks of their fellows, and their own miraculous escape. What are we to do? We cannot rebuild our girls' schoolroom without a considerable outlay of money. Our own house and out-offices require repairs to a great extent. Our schoolfurniture, maps, books, &c., have all perished. Our poor Christians are houseless and without clothes. We are thankful to say that much sympathy has been called forth among friends of the Missionaries, both in England and in India, and we 65 trust that sufficient money has been contributed to reinstate the greater part of the furniture and supplies which have been lost. Our aim in these Quarterly Papers" is to acquaint you with some of the trials, as well as the triumphs, of our Missionaries, and to awaken your prayers on their behalf; and it is with this view that we have drawn your attention to this subject. But we have a second purpose in giving you the annexed sketch, viz. to ask your prayers for another object. That Mission bungalow was once the dwelling of that most devoted Missionary, the Rev. Henry W. Fox. Though spared only to labour for a short time in the Mission, he has left behind him a bright and blessed example for all Missionaries who would desire to be successful in extending the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. And we are especially desirous that more young men of a like spirit should be found. At the present time we have very few suitable young men offering for our work. During the past year this number has been much smaller than for many preceding years. It is true that we have at the present time a goodly band of young men under training in our Islington College, but several of these will, we trust, be sent out during the summer to enter on their Missionary work, and at present we have none coming forward to supply their places. We want young men of zeal and love, who have experienced the converting grace of God's Holy Spirit in their own souls, and the constraining power of a Saviour's love, and whose single desire is to win souls for Christ: possessed, at the same time, of such mental qualifications as shall make them "apt to teach," and enable them to take their proper position as leaders in the movement which seems to have commenced among the educated classes of the heathen, especially in the vast continent of India. We want, too, young men from our Universities and from our younger clergy. When Henry Fox was leaving Oxford, and about to take holy orders, the question pressed on his mind, "Must I be a minister of Christ in England or among the heathen?" and he tells us in one of his letters I see not what answer I can give than this "I must be a Missionary." My reasons are simply these: that there is an overwhelming call for Missionaries to the heathen, and we, the Church of England, have been bringing down punishments on our heads, by our neglect in not hearing the call: that thus some one must go, and if no one else will go, he who hears the call, (peculiarly adapted for the service or no,) must go. I hear the call, for indeed God has brought it before me on every side, and go I must. My external qualifications of health, strength, and spirits, are rather in favour of my aptness, and my internal qualifications are my only drawback; for so great, so honourable, so important a charge is it to be entered upon, that I shrink to think that a being so worthless, so wicked, so very wicked and faithless, should presume to offer himself for it. But better it be filled by the weakest of the weak, than by none at all, and God can give me strength. As often as I turn the question in my mind, I can only arrive at the same conclusion. We know that this Paper will come into the hands of many who are in the habit of praying regularly on behalf of our Missions. Dear friends, we ask you, especially at the present time, to "pray for an outpouring of a Missionary spirit on our Universities, on our younger clergy, on the young men of all ranks and orders throughout our land." 'Pray the Lord of the harvest that He would send forth labourers into his harvest." 66 Subscribers and Collectors of one Penny a week are entitled to a copy of this Paper free. |