30 MISSIONARY WORK AROUND THE WINNEPEGOOSIS LAKE. [MARCH, I started up at once, as soon as I knew that the canoe was on land, on dry ground, far beyond my expectation. I called John, for I could not see him, though he stood at one end of our canoe. We could not see up through the willows. We had to feel with our hands. We could not see whether the canoe had received any damage. After we had put our canoe further from the water, we went up further into the woods, and even there some drops from the rocks reached us. We kneeled down and offered a prayer of thanksgiving to our heavenly Father for our preservation from the deep. We offered a new self-dedication of ourselves to the Lord, that we shall be His servants. Thus far I have to acknowledge the goodness and watchful providence of our gracious God. I made a remark, that if there was a boat or canoe out on a lake, they must be in great danger. "Oct. 10-This is a wild morning: the wind is very little lower than last night. It is surprising to see how mercifully we have been preserved. Where we and our canoe fell, is a small opening of the trees, where the waves had made a channel into a swamp that laid near the edge of the lake. It is in this place where our canoe fell, the only clear spot for miles either way." These voyages are sometimes well repaid by the welcome which is given to the Missionary by the Indians, and their patient listening to his instructions. The following extract relates to a place called Berens River, on the east coast of Lake Winnepeg “June 14, 1856-After breakfast, I looked out for the Indians, to whom invitation had been sent. Finding that the time was going by, I made up my mind to go to them in a small boat: a principal Indian accompanied us. We had not gone any distance, when my men espied the natives walking on the edge of the lake. The wind was too high, and therefore they could not come in their canoes, which made them late. It was about ten o'clock in the morning when we met. We landed, and shook hands with them. They having left their tents before breakfast, my men gave them something to eat; after which I addressed them on the plan of salvation made known to a lost and ruined world, for nearly two hours, or perhaps I exceeded that time. Every eye was directed to me. I am sure my brethren in the ministry will believe me when I say that our meeting with those people reminded me of the Saviour preaching to the people by the sea-shore. I felt deeply for these people. When I concluded, I called upon the old men to say what they had to say. The first speaker expressed his approbation of the subject; that, if it came from God, it ought to be attended to; that he would become a praying man, and his family, if our Society would send a teacher to Berens River. The rest of the old men consented to become Christians, and give up their children for instruction. They mentioned two places; the Berens River, or Pigeon River. The distance between these rivers is, I hear, from four to five miles. The meeting of these people was truly satisfactory." One remark of Mr. Settee's we would place upon the hearts of our readers-"We can do without other things, but prayer we must have from all our Christian friends." We trust that Christian friends will give both the prayers and the "other things" too. A VERY aged man was asked what he was doing now. Only waiting." Only waiting till the shadows Are a little longer grown; Of the day's last beam is flown; Only waiting till the reapers Have the last sheaf gathered home, And the autumn winds have come. Only waiting till the angels Only waiting till the shadows Of the day's last beam is flown; When, from out the gathering darkness, wwwwww He replied, [The Macedonian, April 1855. THE CONVERSION, TRIALS, GODLY LIFE, AND HAPPY DEATH, OF CATECHIST DANIEL, THE FIRST ELDER OF THE REFORMED PROTESTANT DUTCH CHURCH IN VELLORE. (From the "Madras Christian Herald," Dec. 19 and 26, 1855.) ON the 12th of September 1855 there went away to the world of glory a man whose life among us was like a sweet strain of music. While its melody still lingers in my ears I wish to write, so that I may the more faithfully record the triumph achieved by our gracious Lord in the heart of one who was once a wretched Hindu, but is now a saint near the throne. His name was Andiappen. He belonged to a respectable caste, and was a worshipper of Shiva. In his youth he attended a heathen school. When he grew up he became a gardener. In this capacity he for more than twenty years served the late G. Vansomeren, Esq., who, finding him diligent and trustworthy, made him his head gardener. He married 32 LIFE AND HAPPY DEATH OF CATECHIST DANIEL. [MARCH, a heathen woman of his own caste, and by her had several children. He was much attached to her, and they were as happy as a family can be that has no Saviour, and, consequently, no hope of heaven. The house of his employer was the frequent resort of Missionaries. On one occasion, when Messrs. Rhenius and Schaffter were there, one or both of them addressed a few words to Andiappen, setting before him the misery of his idolatrous condition, and pointing him to Jesus as the only one mighty to save. What was then spoken to him sank deep into his soul. He resolved that he would be a Christian. His relatives and friends arrayed themselves in opposition. He found that he must suffer the loss of all things if he would follow the Lord. He wavered: then, like Satan, came his old heathen schoolmaster, and, by his wily sophistry, and the power of long-established authority, induced him to refuse the divine call. He decided that he could not forsake all for Jesus. Eight years passed away, but the exhortation of the Missionary echoed and re-echoed through the inner recesses of his heart. He was often distressed, and went out alone in the twilight, under the trees, to pray to the one true God, of whom he had heard, and of whose existence and claims his awakened conscience strongly admonished him. At such times he would almost decide to take up the cross; but when he looked upon the faces of his wife and children, the thought that they, together with all others whom he loved, would cast him off with scorn and bitter hatred, made the cross appear too great a burden. Nevertheless, the Saviour had marked him for His own. One day he, with the other gardeners, was watering the garden. He was treading the well-sweep. This was work to which he had been used from childhood. He knew well where to place his feet; yet something caused him to put his foot a little aside of its proper position. He fell suddenly from the height, and struck heavily upon a cross timber below, upon which the bucket-holder stands. He was carried, dreadfully bruised, to an hospital, where he long lay in a dangerous state. Thus God led him up to the border land, and bade him look into eternity. His mind was full of terror, and approaching death was recognised as the gate into hell. While thus stretched upon a bed where pain of body and anguish of spirit were his companions, the Rev. Mr. Elouis, a Missionary, came to preach in the wards of the hospital. The name of Jesus shone like a ray of light across his dark soul. He vowed that if the Lord would heal him he would devote his life to His service. His prayer was heard. He came out again, and resumed his work. How strong is the strong one who holds the unregenerate man his captive! Andiappen delayed to fulfil his vow. He was afraid, and trembled. It was at this time I became acquainted with his state of mind. I conversed with him. He was still undecided. The time of his deliverance, however, was now approaching. One evening, Mr. Elouis being at my house, Andiappen was called in, and Mr. Elouis urged him, without further hesitation, to determine the great question. The Spirit of grace spread its dove-like wings over his heart, and he gave himself up wholly to heavenly influences. From that day until he entered into his rest I never saw in him the slightest vacillation. Then and there God enabled him to take hold of the Rock. He builded on it. No tempest could ever shake the edifice. 1857.] LIFE AND HAPPY DEATH OF CATECHIST DANIEL. 33 I baptized him. He wished to be called Daniel. It was a bright, beautiful day. I shall never forget it. The heavens were full of light; not more so, however, than the trusting heart and the meek countenance of this beloved disciple. He was the Lord's. He had passed from the dismal desert of heathenism into Christ's garden. He ate of the fruits; he sat in the shade; he breathed the fragrance of the flowers. He bathed himself in the fountain whose waters are Jesus' blood. very happy. He was A cloud came up on the horizon that very day. The wife who had loved him hissed at him in her rage. He had polluted himself: never more would she live with him. With vehement passion she grasped handfuls of dirt and flung them into the air. She cried out against him with wild fury, as the destroyer of his family. Gathering up every thing valuable in the house, and seizing her children, she fled away as from an unclean thing. The convert lay down to sleep that night in a desolate house. Who can tell the greatness of this trial, or measure the depth of this sorrow? He was a man of much affection. His fears were realized. He was thrown into a burning, fiery furnace; but one walked with him in the midst of the flames, and he had no hurt, neither did the smell of the fire pass on him. He had lost much, but he had found more than all-the Saviour. He gazed on the dying Redeemer, and buried his griefs at the foot of His cross. The tree had been pruned, and there came forth fresh leaves and fair fruit. He walked with God. The heathen saw the new life. At first they expressed their surprise and abhorrence. Soon they were constrained to respect. A native is very dependent on his wife. She cooks. If she runs away he is left in a vexatious predicament. He comes home from labour: there is no lamp lighted, no dinner ready. The heathen saw this convert uncomplainingly bear his trials. They saw him light the evening lamp, and cook his own food after the toils of the day. They saw a consistent, God-fearing life, and they honoured him. After a few months, Daniel's employer, through a native over whom he had influence, induced the recreant wife to return. She stayed awhile, and then forsook her husband for ever. In the course of years he often wrote her letters, which breathed the most tender affection, beseeching her to return, but it was in vain. "Forsake Christ, and I will be yours," was her constant reply. "No, never! I love you much, but I will not deny my Lord," was his invariable rejoinder. He several times journeyed to the distant village where she resided with her heathen relatives, and entreated her, for the sake of the love he had ever shown her, to come again to him. I well remembur an expression in one of his letters. "When I fell from the well-sweep, it was because I turned to bestow a look of love upon you: will you still refuse to come to me?" (To be concluded in our next.) DISCOVERIES IN SOUTH-CENTRAL AFRICA. THE discoveries of Dr. Livingston in South-Central Africa are most remarkable; so much so, indeed, that we cannot but see in them the indications of God's gracious purpose, that Africa shall no longer continue as it has been, as to the greater portion of it, an unknown land, 34 DISCOVERIES IN SOUTH-CENTRAL AFRICA. [MARCH, but that it shall be opened to the message of the Gospel. Dr. Livingston's discoveries go to confirm an opinion long since expressed by Dr. Krapf, that interior Africa possesses great facilities of communication, in its numerous lakes and mighty rivers. A great part of his wonderful journeys was accomplished in canoes, along the course of mighty streams One region through which he passed was called "rivers upon rivers :" it consisted, for hundreds of miles, of a "dead level, interlaced by a perfect labyrinth of rivers, with their countless tributaries and numerous entering and re-entering branches." Dr. Livingston's first journey commenced on June 1, 1849. The starting point was Kolobeng, his Missionary station, situated 200 miles north of Kuruman, the station of the Rev. R. Moffat. The object was to reach a large lake, which had been often heard of, lying to the northwest, across the great Kalehari desert. After 300 miles travelling across a dreary region, a noble river, the Zouga, was reached, along the windings of which, in a native canoe, our traveller proceeded, until the great lake Ngami was reached. The second journey, undertaken the following year, was in the same direction, but extended only a little beyond the Zouga, the prevalence of marsh-fever, and the destruction caused to the cattle by a venomous fly called tzetze, compelling the exploring party to turn back. Early in 1851 a new effort was made, the river Zouga crossed, and, after traversing a region abounding with springs and inhabited by Bushmen, a new river, large and deep, was reached, called the Chobe, thirty miles down the course of which brought them to Linyanti, the town of Sebitoané, the chief of the Makololo. From this place Dr. Livingston first saw the great trunk river of this part of Africa, called by diverse names in different parts of its course the Secheke, Leeambye, and Zambesi, and which he eventually succeeded in tracing from Linyanti to the eastern coast, where it enters the sea. Dr. Livingston now prepared himself for a still more arduous undertaking. His first care was to accompany Mrs. Livingston and his children to Cape Town, shipping them from thence for England, that, during his long absence, they might be under the care of Christian friends; and this being done, he turned his face towards the interior, on June 8, 1852; resolved, if possible, to penetrate through the great centre, until he succeeded in coming out on the west coast, in the direction of the Portuguese territories. The first point to be reached was Linyanti. This, however, was not so easily accomplished as on the previous occasion: the waters were at their height, and the country was inundated. It is very probable that to such seasons of inundation may be ascribed the reports which have reached us of a great inland sea. In the direction where the great sea is supposed to be there are probably large lakes, of considerable magnitude, and numerous rivers, and, when the waters rise, they all unite, and assume the appearance of one great sea. Through the inundated country Dr. Livingston and one native companion splashed, until they came near, once more, to the river Chobe, from which they found themselves separated "by a broad chevaux de frise of papyrus reeds and other aquatic plants;" and, after these had been broken through, by a still more formidable barrier, "a horrid sort of grass, about six feet high, and having serrated edges, which cut the hands |