A seventh writes, "You told us that two cents were the means of converting a young man. I would give two cents every week, if it would convert souls to Christ."

An eighth writes, "My mother told me, some time ago, that every day I recited my lessons without missing a word, she would give me a penny; and not being desirous to spend it, I do wish you would take it—fifty cents—to the heathen. It may buy some tracts at the bazaar or market."

A ninth writes, "We feel sorry for those poor heathen children. We will try to earn some money to buy Bibles for the heathen. Father has promised us some land to work next summer, and we think we can raise something and sell it to get the money."

A tenth writes, "Since you were here last spring, I have saved what I could—one dollar—for the heathen children, and should be glad if I could do more."

An eleventh writes, "The money which you will find enclosed, I earned by working for my mother on Saturday, which I intended to keep to buy a microscope; but when I heard you preach on Sabbath, I concluded to give it to buy Bibles for the poor heathen children."

A twelfth writes, "The enclosed, five dollars, was a birthday present from my father, but I want to give it to Dr. Scudder, for the poor little boys in Ceylon."

A thirteenth writes, "Please accept my mite, by the hand of my brother. I have been keeping it for the purpose of buying a geography; but when I heard you preach yesterday, I thought I had better send it to you, for the poor heathen."

A fourteenth writes, "I would like much to become a missionary, as I am named after one; I hope I shall be one. I have been saving a dollar to buy myself some books, but concluded to give it to buy some books for the heathen."

The last two children, whose letters you have been reading, gave to the missionary cause the money which they had been earning to buy books. When you have been earning money for the express purpose of giving it to the missionary cause, then you should devote it all to that cause; but I would advise you not to do as did the two children last mentioned. Had my opinion been asked, relative to the disposal of their money, I would have recommended them to give one-tenth, or perhaps a little more, of the sums they had been earning, to their Saviour, and to keep the rest to buy their books. The giving of not less than one-tenth of all you earn, for charitable purposes, is the principle which I wish to have impressed fully on your minds, and I hope you will grow up under the influence of this principle, and never, never depart from it. But while I thus speak, you must not suppose that I wish you to confine yourselves to the giving of one-tenth, when you can give more; I hope you will not give merely this, but one-half, or more, if you can afford it. Indeed, if you do not go as missionaries to the heathen, I want you to make it your great object to make money for Christ, and to spend it for Christ. O, if the generation which is grown, were as anxious to make money for Christ, and to spend it for Christ, as they are to make it for themselves, and to spend it for themselves, or to hoard it up—it may be for the everlasting destruction of the souls of their heirs—there would be no complaints that money could not be had to send the Gospel to the destitute, both at home and abroad.

In my twelfth chapter, I spoke of the liberal donations which the heathen of India make for the support of their religion. In the city of Calcutta alone, it is supposed that two millions of dollars are spent every year on the festival of a single goddess—a festival which lasts only a few days. A single native has been known to give, as I before said, more than one hundred thousand dollars at one time to this festival, and afterwards thirty thousand dollars yearly. How vast, then, must be the sums which are spent upon all the different festivals of their gods. Would that we could see such liberality among Christians. Would that we could see the generality of them willing to give even one-tenth of their annual income to the Lord. Alas, what would the heathen say, if they were to learn how much greater are the sums of money which they give to their idols, than Christians give to honor their Saviour? Would they not exclaim, It is because Christianity is false, and heathenism is true, that Christians give so little for Christ, while we give so much for our gods? My dear children, I hope that you will never allow the heathen to say that the Christian religion is false, because you do not give your money for the spread of the Gospel. Will you not resolve now, that you will, so long as God prospers you in worldly goods, give at least one-tenth of all you earn to the Lord? Do, my dear children, do make the resolution now.



CHAPTER XXII.

PERSONAL LABORS AMONG THE HEATHEN.

My dear children—You have, perhaps, often seen Campbell's missionary map of the world. If not, I want you very carefully to look at it. I want you to look at the red spots on it, and think how many millions of people embrace the religion both of the Greek and Roman Catholic churches—a religion which is nothing more nor less than paganism, with a few Christian doctrines added to it. After this, I want you to look at the green spots, and think of the hundred and twenty millions of Mohammedans, who spurn the name of Jesus as a Saviour, and who have set up Mahomet as their prophet. I want you also to look at all the dark spots, where, with comparatively a few exceptions, the people are in pagan darkness, without any knowledge of God and the only Saviour of sinners Jesus Christ. And in view of all this darkness—in view of the need of more than half a million of ministers of the Gospel to preach the news of salvation to them, I want you, my dear boys, to ask yourselves whether it may not be your duty, after you grow up, to become ministers, and go and preach the Gospel to them. You know that you are bound to do all the good to others which you can; and even if you do not love the Saviour, you are not released from your obligations to do good. I would by no means have you become ministers without giving your hearts to Christ; but this you are as much bound to do, as you are bound to do all the good you can to others. If you are not Christians, I want you, through grace, to become such, and I want many of you to become ministers and missionaries. Two of my sons are now missionaries in India, and four others, I hope, are preparing to come. And why should not you also come here, or go to other heathen lands? If you can be excused from coming or going, why may not all who are now little boys also be excused? In such a case, there will be no missionaries at all. And you know that this would be very wrong. But I do not merely want many of you, my dear boys, to become missionaries, I want many of you, my dear girls, to become missionaries also. Many little girls and boys have expressed a desire to become missionaries. Several little boys who wrote to Mr. Hutchings, one of my missionary brethren, and several little boys and girls who have written to me, have said that they would like to be missionaries.

One writes, "I should like to go and be a missionary, and instruct the poor heathen children to love God."

A second says, "I have been selling matches that I made. I got five dollars—just as many dollars as I am years old. I think I shall become a missionary, and come and help you. I hope I shall see you again when I come to Ceylon. Tell the heathen children they must love God, and be good children. They must not give the children to the crocodiles, nor throw them into the water; and they must not worship wooden and brass gods. They must worship the true God, and keep his commandments."

A third says, "I like to send money to help the poor heathen to learn to read the Bible, and other good books. I think it will be pleasant to sail across the ocean, and teach them to turn from their idols. I would teach them not to lay themselves down before the car of Juggernaut, and be crushed to death; and I would teach them not to burn themselves to death on the funeral pile."

A fourth says, "I mean to save something to send to you, to help support one school. Should my life be spared, and the way be opened at some future day, I think I should be willing to leave my native home, to go to some distant land to tell the heathen of a Saviour, whom I hope I have found."

A fifth says, "If you are ever in want of money, just please to send on to me, and I will endeavor to raise all that you want. If I live to be a man, I hope be a missionary to Ceylon or China."

One little boy wrote to me as follows: "I have for a long time been saving three shillings, for the purpose of buying a little racoon, which I intended to do on Monday. On Sunday I heard you preach, and thought I would give it to you to save some poor heathen soul; and I hope you will pray for me, that I may become a minister, and go to India, and preach to the heathen."

Another writes, "This is to certify that I, Charles D.H. Frederick, pledge myself, if God spares my life, when I get to be a man, and he pardons me through Christ Jesus, I will go and preach to the heathen."

A little girl wrote me as follows: "According to my present feelings, I should like to engage in so glorious a cause," as the missionary cause, "and I hope, when I arrive at an age to be of use to God, and the poor heathen, to embrace so glorious a cause."

Another little girl writes, "I felt very bad when I heard you tell about the poor heathen who worship the idols. I could not keep from weeping, when you told us about the man who came so far to get a teacher to come and tell the Gospel to his friends, and was disappointed. I felt very bad Sunday evening; and on Monday evening I felt that the Lord had given me a new heart. I felt happy, and sang some beautiful verses that I learned in one of mother's little books. I have read the Day-springs, and thought a great deal about the heathen for two years.

"I used to think a great deal about having nice clothes, before I thought so much about the heathen. My mother told me some time ago, that she thought she would get me a white dress when I was ten years old. I am now ten years old, and this evening mother gave me two dollars to get the dress, or dispose of it in any way I thought best; and I wish you would take it to have the poor heathen taught about the Saviour. If I live, and it is the Lord's will, I hope I shall come and help you teach the poor heathen about the Saviour."

There is a little boy in the city of New York, who formerly used to tell his mother, that he meant to be a cab-driver, and all she could say to him was of no avail in making him think differently. This little boy came with his mother to hear me preach about the heathen.

After he had left the church, as he was going home, he burst into tears, and exclaimed, "Mother, I mean to be a missionary to the heathen;" and so far as I know, he has never talked about being any thing else since. And I hope that many of you will never talk about being any thing else than missionaries to the heathen.

I am acquainted with a little girl in Ohio, who has resolved to become a missionary. She is a niece of Mr. Campbell, late missionary to Africa. She was not quite four years old when I saw her. When she was eighteen months of age, she saw the picture of a heathen mother throwing her child into the mouth of a crocodile She was deeply impressed with the sight. When she was two and a half years old, she resolved to be a missionary, and follow her uncle to Africa. From this resolution she has never drawn hack. When I was at her father's house, she was asked if she would not go to India. She replied, that she would not go to India, but to Africa. She was asked why she wished to go to Africa. "To teach the heathen," was her answer. "Why should you teach the heathen?" "Because they worship idols." Her mother told me, that ever since she began to get money, she has contributed to the missionary cause; and this money has generally, if not always, been earned by some act of self-denial on her part. I hope that many of you will feel just as this little girl felt, and do just as she did.

When I was in America, I used continually, when preaching, to ask the dear children whether they would not become missionaries. I used also to beg them to write down what I had asked them. Many complied with my request. While I was at the Avon Springs, one of the daughters of a physician there, not only wrote it down, but gave me what she had written. The following is a copy of what she wrote,

August 18, 1844.

Dr. Scudder requested me to come to India to help him when I am grown.

S. P. S.

Avon Springs

Could I raise my voice loud enough to reach America, I would beg of you to write down the following sentence: Dr. Scudder asks me, to-day, whether I will not hereafter become a missionary to the heathen. Perhaps you will write it down immediately.

Now, my dear boys, if you will come out to India, or go to Burmah or China, to tell the heathen of the Saviour, you may, with the blessing of God, do as much good as Swartz and Carey, and others have done. And if you, my dear girls, will do the same, you also may do much good. This will appear from what I am going to tell you about a little girl in Ceylon. This little girl belonged to the boarding-school at Oodooville. She early gave her heart to the Saviour, and joined the church when she was thirteen years old. I should like to know if there are any of you who have not followed her example. If so, this is not right. My dear children, it is not right. Shall this little girl, in a heathen land, a land filled with idols, give her heart to Christ; and you, in a Christian land, a land of Sabbaths, and Sabbath-schools, and Bibles, not give your hearts to him? This is not right. You know that it is not right.

But let me go on with my account of the little girl. After she had joined the church, she wanted to go and see her mother, who was a heathen, for the purpose of conversing with her about her soul's concerns. Now, in this country, when children who have been absent from their parents for any length of time go home, the mother spreads a mat down on the floor, and tells them to sit down upon it, adding that she will go and cook rice for them. They have no seats to sit on, as you have in America. Well, this little girl went home. When her mother saw her, she was very glad; and after she had spread a mat for her, and told her to sit down, she said that she would go and cook rice for her. The little girl told her that she was not hungry, and did not wish to eat, but wanted to talk with her. "You cannot talk with me," said her mother, "until I have cooked rice for you." "Mother," said the little girl, "you worship idols, and I am afraid that you will lose your soul, and I want to talk with you about Jesus Christ." The mother became quite angry with her, and rebuked her. But still the little girl continued to talk with her about her soul. The mother then became so angry, that she told her to be silent, or she would punish her. The little girl replied, "Mother, though you do whip me, I must talk to you about Jesus Christ," and she burst into tears. The mother's heart was broken. She sat down on the mat, and her little daughter talked with her, and prayed with her. After this the little girl was so troubled, fearing that her mother's soul might be lost, that she was heard praying for her during all parts of the night. And God heard her prayers. Her mother forsook her idols, and became a Christian, and her conversion was followed by the conversion of one or two others. Now, my dear little girls, if you will give your hearts to the Saviour, and in due time come here, or go to other heathen lands, and tell the people of a Saviour, you may, with the help of the Holy Spirit, be as useful as this little girl was.

Female missionaries have done much good among the heathen. I mentioned an instance on page 88, to prove this. Let me mention another instance more.

In the year 1838, an English lady, Miss Aldersey, went to the East, at her own expense to promote female education among the Chinese. At that time, she could not go to China, as that country was not open to missionaries She therefore went to Java, where there was a colony of Chinese. Here she hired a house, and collected about twenty-five girls, whom she clothed, and boarded, and taught. The Lord blessed her labors, and several of these girls were hopefully converted. When their parents saw that they would no longer worship idols, they became much opposed to the school, and some of them took their daughters from it. In the year 1842, God opened the door for the entrance of the Gospel into China. This missionary then broke up her school in Java, went to that country, and resided in the city of Ningpo. Of the girls who had become Christians while under her care, two were much persecuted by their parents. They were whipped and beaten, with the hope that they would again return to their idols; but all the efforts which were made to induce them to forsake the Saviour were in vain. They declared that they would sooner die than forsake him. When their parents saw that stripes and blows were of no avail, they determined to marry them to men who were much devoted to their idols. This stratagem, they thought, might succeed in destroying all their interest in their new religion. Here, however, they were again foiled. The girls became alarmed, and fled from their parents. An English gentleman, but who was not a professor of religion, felt deeply interested for them, and assisted them to get on board a ship going to Batavia. Here they were pursued but escaped from the pursuers by going on board of a ship which sailed for Singapore. From Singapore they sailed for China, where they were permitted to join the old friend who had been the means of their conversion. This lady collected a school at Ningpo of more than thirty girls. Thus you see how much good female missionaries have done by going to heathen lands. And are none of you willing to follow their example? Are none of you willing to say, Here am I, Lord, send me?



CHAPTER XXIII.

SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL IN INDIA AND CEYLON.

My dear Children—I have told you that India is a very dark land, but there are a few bright spots in it. Through the blessing of God upon the prayers of his people in Christian lands, and upon the prayers and labors of his missionary servants, many of the heathen of India and Ceylon have forsaken their idols, and are now enlisted under the banner of Jehovah Jesus. In the Travancore and Tinnivelly districts to say nothing of the success of the Gospel in other places, thousands and tens of thousands of the people have embraced Christianity. In hundreds of villages where but a few years ago the name of Jesus had never been heard, it is now known and adored.

You have often heard of Ceylon. If you will look at the map of Hindostan, you will find it close to that country. Here Christianity has begun to prevail. This island is two hundred miles long, and in some places quite wide. A large part of it is covered with what is called jungle. Jungle and wilderness mean the same thing. In this jungle there are many wild beasts, such as elephants, bears, wild hogs, and buffaloes. In it also, there are men, women, and children, running wild, just like the wild beasts. This people are called Verders, or wild people. They wear scarcely any clothing. They have no houses. When it rains, they creep into holes, or go under overhanging rocks. Their beds consist of a few leaves. Sunk almost to the level of the brute, they live and die like their shaggy companions of the forest. Even upon these the Gospel has tried its power. More than fifty families have settled down, forming two pleasant, and now Christian villages. They have schoolmasters and Christian teachers.

I must give you a description of two revivals of religion which occurred while I was in the island of Ceylon, in the year 1833. Before those revivals took place, there was no particular manifestation of much seriousness at any of our stations. It was in the month of October of that year, that we began to feel that we must labor more, and pray more for the conversion of perishing souls. A protracted meeting was spoken of, and it was determined that one should be held at our seminary in Batticotta—a seminary which was established for the purpose of raising up a native ministry. On the morning of the day in which the meeting was commenced, Mr. Spaulding and myself went to that station to assist Mr. Poor, the principal of the seminary, in laboring with the students. In these labors we spent five days. It was good to be there. No sooner had we begun our exercises, than a blessing from on high was experienced. The windows of heaven were opened, and the Holy Ghost descended. This was evident from the spirit of prayer which was poured out upon the pious students of the seminary. They were heard "a great while before day" pleading, in their social circles, that God would have mercy upon their impenitent companions, and bring them into the kingdom of his grace. We trust, also, that a spirit of prayer was given to those of us who took a prominent part in the meeting. At the termination of our exercises, with the exception of a few lads belonging to a Tamul class, who had lately been admitted to the seminary, there was not, so far as I know, an individual connected with it, who was not humbled at the foot of the cross, either to lie there until healed of his wounds, or to show, if he perished, that he must perish under circumstances of a very aggravated nature.

After we had finished our meeting at Batticotta we went to the female seminary at Oodooville, to hold similar meetings. Before we reached that station, the church-members there, after having heard what God was doing at Batticotta, became very much aroused to pray for the influences of the Holy Spirit to descend upon the impenitent in their seminary also. Soon after we reached the station, we held a meeting with the girls. Some of them were then deeply concerned for the salvation of their souls; but it was not until Wednesday afternoon, that we knew how powerfully the Spirit of God had been at work. The meeting which we held with the seminarists at that time was one of the most solemn meetings which I ever attended. One of them, a girl of high caste, and of a very good family, said to her companions in that meeting, "My sisters, I have been a proud one among you. I hope that if you ever see me proud again, you will tell me of it. I used to tell the missionaries, that I had given myself to the Saviour, but I had not done it." Another of the girls burst into tears, and cried out aloud. As she could not restrain her feelings, and did not wish to disturb the assembly, she arose and left it. She retired to one of the prayer-rooms adjoining the seminary, there to weep alone. She, however, was not left alone. Mr. Poor, one of my missionary associates, followed her, and endeavored to administer the consolations of the Gospel to her; but she refused to be comforted. All her distress seemed to arise from a single source. "I told you a falsehood," said she, "last Monday, in saying that I had dedicated myself to the Saviour, when I had not." Perhaps she thought at that time, that she had thus dedicated herself to the Saviour, but afterwards found that she had deceived herself. In this wretched state of mind, she continued until half-past ten o'clock that night, when she came into Mr. Spaulding's house, where I then was, and wished to know what she must do to be saved. She was told, as she had often been told before, that she must dedicate herself entirely to her Saviour. She went away, and returned the same night at about half-past eleven o'clock, saying, that she had found HIM.

"Friends, is not my case amazing? What a Saviour I have found."

My dear young friends, are there any of you who have never given your hearts to Christ? If so, let me entreat you to follow the example of that dear little girl of whom I have now been speaking. She found it to be necessary to give her heart to the Saviour, and I hope that she did give it to him. O that you too might give up your hearts to him. Alas, if you do not, you must soon go down to eternal burnings where you will be constrained to cry out, Lost, lost, lost for ever! Be careful, my dear children, O be careful that this young girl does not rise up against you in the last day, and condemn you. She must do so—she will do so, if you do not, like her, choose Christ as your portion. But I am digressing, and must go back to the point I left.

The next day, one of our missionary sisters, who had lately reached Ceylon from America, came to Oodooville, to witness the nature of the work which she heard was in progress at that place. As she was entering Mr. Spaulding's house, she was met by one of the most consistent church-members of the seminary, who declared that she had lost her hope of being a Christian. Perhaps this church-member was disposed to write bitter things against herself because she did not feel all that warmth in religion which marked the conduct of those who, at that time, were indulging the hope that they had passed from death to life. After the sister to whom I alluded had been in the house a little while, she requested Mrs. Spaulding to allow her to have an interview with such of the girls as were entertaining a hope of their interest in the Saviour. These were twenty-two in number. This interview was granted. As she knew nothing about the Tamul language, I acted as her interpreter. Through me, she requested the girls to give a statement of their feelings. One of them arose, and said, "I feel as happy as an angel. I feel joys that I can express to no one but my Saviour; and I am just as certain that my sins are forgiven, as if I had sent up a karduthaase," that is, a letter to heaven, "and received an answer to it." Another of the girls said, that the missionaries had often talked with her about her dedicating herself to the Saviour, but that she did not then know what it meant. "I now know," added she, "what it means, for God has taught it to me." Another of the girls said, "Though they put me in the fire, I will never forsake the Saviour."

Now, my dear children, I must bid you farewell Probably I shall never see you, unless you come to this heathen land, until I meet you at the judgment-seat of Christ. If you do not become missionaries, most of you will probably die, and be buried where you now are. Probably I shall die in this heathen land. But we shall not always sleep in our graves. After a little season, the archangel's trumpet will sound, and you in America, and I in India, shall hear his voice proclaiming, "Awake, ye dead, and come to judgment." And we shall all at once rise from our graves, and stand before our Judge. And where shall I then see you? Shall I see any of you on the left hand of Christ, and hear him say, "Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels?" O, if I should hear that dreadful sentence pronounced against you, how would my heart die within me. How could I bear to hear it. Oh, I could not—I could not bear to hear it. My dear children, if you are yet out of Christ, I entreat you, at this very moment, to lay down this book, and throw yourselves at the feet of your Saviour. Tell him, that you are lost sinners, deserving to be cast into everlasting burnings. Tell him, that though you have been wicked children, you will leave off your wickedness, and be his for ever. Plead with him, with as much earnestness as a drowning man would plead with you to save him, to give you the influences of his Holy Spirit, to create within you a clean heart, and renew within you a right spirit, without which you are eternally undone; and continue to plead, until he pardons you, and receives you as his children. By all the sufferings of the Son of God, by all the joys of heaven, by all the torments of hell, by the solemnities of your dying bed, by the value of your immortal souls which, if once lost, must be lost for ever, I beseech you thus immediately to throw yourselves at his feet, and plead with him to make you his. Neglect this duty—neglect giving yourselves to Christ, even for one minute, and it may be, that you will be lost, yea, LOST FOR EVER.

THE END