ed; for we were in the midst of deep anxiety and depression. I feel that I ought now to write you, but what to say I know not, unless I give you an Ezekiel's roll, full of lamentation and mourning and woe.' It is always more agreeable to dwell on the cheerful and pleasing, and to exhibit the brightest side of the pillar that attends us; but it is not always most profitable to keep in the back ground the gloomy and painful, nor to bold from your gaze the dark side of the pillar, especially as it may induce those who love us and our work to pray the more ardently for us. In our seasons of darkness we are sometimes tempted to think that friends at home journey on the high way wherein are few obstructions, while we are obliged to thread the densest jungles, to be scratched and torn with thorns and briers on every hand. Are they in anxiety? they can advise with confidential friends almost at their next door; but we have absolutely none with whom to advise. Are they depressed? they can court the cheering influence of congenial society; but we have none to court. Are they in afflicton? a thousand appliances are at their command; but we have few, perhaps none. Why we have sometimes actually to send to Calcutta, a distance of near four hun. dred miles, expressly for a few grains of medicine! Do they require a change of air and scene? a few hours and a few shillings will comfortably convey them to distant scenes and friends; but for their hours we must employ days, and for their shillings, pounds; and that too in the most jolting, unsocial coffin-like thing in the world1-a palkee, with feet foremost and teeth uppermost;' and then not to friends, but to strangers, or some miserable empty bungalow. Is a sinner at home converted? the minister's heart bounds with gratitude and praise, and he has only to watch over him spiritually, feed him with the bread of life, and lead him on to heaven. Is one converted here? almost the first thought is, 'How is he to live?' He must have something for his body as well as his soul.

He must be put into the way of get ting a livelihood, and be assisted in doing so. If he is oppressed, we must rush to his res

cue.

If in affliction, we must be his doctor and nurse. All the children, too, under our charge require teaching and providing for in temporal as well as spiritual matters. We have not only to be their teachers, but their 'father and mother;' to direct them in every relation and duty of life, and that to such an extent sometimes that gravity would laugh and modesty would blush! Nor should the mutations in society escape a passing glance. Who at home cannot look upon the friends of his former years-the companions of his youth? But here, for instance, am I, with the exception of an old lady and her daughter, at Gopalpore, the oldest European

resident (in one place I mean) within a circle of a hundred miles!! Our Millers, Friyes, McViccars, Hares, &c., &c., are all gone. Why it's absolutely dreadful. One sees oneself a solitary tree with all the surrounding forest cleared. Surely I'm not Methuselah! Well, in spite of all we can sing,—

'I would not change my blest estate For all the world calls rich and great.' But my roll is not yet filled. This is merely the introduction, and the least trying part. You speak of your thermometer being 67° on the 16th of May. What ours was then I cant say, but on the 12th of May I noticed it, and it was then 103, and that in the coolest room in the house, shewing a difference from yours of 36 degrees! Why the hot bath is from 98 to 105°, so that the temperature of our atmosphere was nearly the extreme of the hot bath! Should you have any curiosity that way, just stand over a large bathing tub, thermometer in hand, and disperse boiling water through the cold already there till you get a heat of 103°, or as we had it another day, 104°; thus prepared, jump in and see how you like it, and how long you will bear it; and then remember that you have this advantage over us, that your head is out.

In

A portly lady at Gopalpore found the heat so intolerable that she luxuriated for four hours one day up to the chin in cold (?) water. The nights were in proportion to the days, shewing the thermometer at ninety-four degrees during the coldest part of the twentyfour hours. I never felt anything like it; it seemed more than flesh and blood could bear. It produced a perfect stagnation in intellect, energy and everything else. We all looked absurdly pasty and stupid. Not a blade of green grass was to be seen any where, and the poor cattle that managed to survive were just like so many walking skeletons. As might be expected, it prepared the way for an unusual amount of disease and death. many places the small-pox broke out, and raged most furiously and fatally; and in almost all that frightful scourge, the cholera, swept away armies of young and old, rich and poor, healthy and sickly, feeble and strong, so that it might fitly be called 'the pestilence that walketh in darkness and the destruction that wasteth at noon day'. Whole villages and towns were deserted by the panic it created, and the dead and dying were left in their houses. All humam aid seemed unavailing the disease began with death. Among ourselves it raged with unparalleled fury, carrying off four of our girls, and ten of Wilkinson's boys. I know not when I passed through such a season. It was one of constant anxiety and excitement; and as to sleep, it seemed as though it had departed for ever. Day and night I was listening for the cry of cholera from our school, for I felt that I could not depend upon the natives hearing,

ropean sergeant, and preach in Oriya morning and afternoon, and in English at nightrather a hard day's work in this country, but could not help myself, as one of my native preachers was at the location, and the two at home were unwell. This morning I went first to the boys' school and had a general inspection of the boys, their premises, houses, cook-room, rice, curry, &c., &c.; thence to see a poor sick East Indian who I fear is near the end of his course. Directed him to his only hope, prayed with him, and went to condole with the poor widow whose husband I buried yesterday morning, and whose daughter I buried twelve months ago; thence I returned to conduct worship in the girls' school, and now here I am at my desk, feeling half disposed to be tired, but must finish this and send it to day to a post office thirteen miles off, in order to its being in time for the overland mail. By sending it that distance I shall gain at least two days upon the regu lar post. Splendid postal arrangements in this country!

LETTER FROM REV. C. LACEY.

(Continued from page 534)

We have just passed one of the most awful hot seasons India ever experienced. I never saw its like during my residence of 28 years. For eight months, within a few days, no rain descended to cool the scorched earth, and revive exhausted creation. The reservoirs of water were everywhere dried up, except in particular places; and the poor cattle suffered tortures. The beasts of the forest have almost all been shot, or have died of thirst. Forced to certain watering places, the native sports men have watched and shot them, the night through, at the muzzles of their guns; and others have laid down exhausted, and have died in the jungles. Man, and domestic animals have fared better: but among these many instances have occurred just around us, indicative of the awful effects of the season. Three men were travelling from Padamhur to Cuttack, distance ten miles. Part of their journey lay over the sands of the Mahanuddy river transversely. The distance over the sands is, as they had to go, three miles. A small stream flows in the middle of the vast bed of sand. The travellers reached the opposite bank, from Cuttack, about ten o'clock, a. m. They descended and found the sand growing very hot underfoot, and the fierce rays of the sun darted fire from above; but they reached the little stream in the centre of the desert. They cooled their blistering feet, and drank of the stream, and then set out for the opposite bank; but this was the trial. Two of the men were strong, and pushed on, but the third was somewhat feeble

and lagged behind. As the sun ascended in the heavens, the sand increased in heat, the wind blew fire around his body, and darted insufferable rays upon his exposed head; and before he had got more than half the distance, he fell exhausted upon the burning sand, and soon expired. He was found black with the horrid draught and the roasting sand, when the heat moderated somewhat towards evening. On the next day a flock of monkeys, who had been disporting about on the houses of a neighbouring village in the morning, sat in seemingly grave conclave on the bank of the river, deciding whether or not, they were to make a venture to the stream of the river for water.

At length, the large male, nearly

the size of a man, about ten o'clock, was observed to descend the bank into the river, and was followed by all the rest, fourteen in number. They rested and ran till they reached the stream, where they drank to their satisfaction. But now to return! They spent some time on the wet sand, and then, headed by their chief, set out on their return; the sand had become burning hot under foot, and every step they made produced a leap to save their burning feet; the hot wind covered them with a sheeting as of fire, and they had no retreat; to go forward and to return were alike impossible. One by one they fell exhausted, and died, till not one survived! While the southerly wind prevails, we have the wind cool till about nine in the morning, and after five in the afternoon, in consequence of our vicinity to the sea, on the south of us; but this season the southerly breeze has been very unsteady and uncertain, and we have had hot land winds blowing night and day. A burn. ing feverish skin has almost excited the system to a state of frenzy; and night has afforded us little refuge, for the sheets and the pillows were heated as with a hot iron. O how blessed was the change, when on the fifth of this month the clouds began to pour forth their rich treasures of rain! We have passed the dreadful season, and now a paradise smiles around us; and I can hardly do aught for admiration and delight of the beautiful creation all around.

This wretched country, however, is a prey to every kind of misery, except frost and snow; of these it is clear. The stream of pilgrims from Bengal to that accursed shrine at Pooree, brought with it that pestilence, the cholera morbus, and has disseminated it throughout all the land. Like a grim giant it has gone forth every where, and is slaying its thousands. Its incursions from the line of road, to the east, and to the west, appear to have occurred all along the line. The number of lives destroyed is incalculable. Who counts them? Who cares for them? The cholera this year is at the same time the most eccentric and the most fatal I ever heard of. Many parts of the country are filled with

wailing, lamentation, and fear. In many instances where it enters a house, it makes an end of the family, except, perhaps, a slave or a dependent, apparently mocking the strength of the healthy, the well fed, and the noblest. In one family in Boxybazaar, Cuttack, it entered and carried off in two days the mother, the son, and the daughter-in-law, and an unmarried youth, leaving a grandchild only. In another family, at Singsarala, it entered a land holder's house, and carried off all, except a slave girl, there remaining none to carry out and burn the dead! In the little village of Bhogerpoore, its ravages have been going on for two months, and it seems as though it would depopulate the place. Our native christian friend Boleram lives in the midst of the village, as yet untouched, though held in constant fear.

I might give you many more of these woeful statistics, but let these suffice. I expect the scourge will visit us at Cuttack with more awful prevalence and power; and the scene at Pooree, where many thousands of wretched Bengallee women, widows, are collected, will be awful in the extreme, and pestilence will travel in their train as they retire. It is as though the last Ruth Jatra, under the government donation, shall be marked by terrible wrath. Yet I fear there is little hope that the people will learn righteousness. What has, however, most contributed to the depression of our own minds amidst the general woe, is the severe and continued sickness of brother Wilkinson. The scenes and events, sad and sickening, which have occurred, and are still occurring around him, are too much for his nerves and physical strength. He is ill; and it appears a change is needful to his restoration. I doubt whether a change less radical than to Europe, will be of any lasting benefit to him. Our confidence is in God. He will, amidst the dark dispensations of his providence, no doubt, in the end, promote the advancement of his kingdom. Mean. time we are driven to live by faith on his word-we are driven to what is best for us, and most honourable and acceptable to God. We feel increasing nearness to him, and dependence upon him; and lessons which teach us such knowledge, though they may be pain ful in the acquisition, are most beneficial in themselves and in their results. We go about our work with our lives in our hands, taking consolation from the persuasion that God does and will infallibly dispose of us, our work, and all our interests, so as to subserve his own glory; and than this, we have no greater, no other desire. Living, I live unto the Lord; and dying, I wish to die unto the Lord, that whether living or dying, I would be the Lord's. This the best and the only end of life. After perusing what I have written, I find all very miscellaneous, and I fear all will be very uninteresting; however, from the

fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh, or the pen writeth. Such things have occupied and do occupy much of our thoughts, and of our commiseration. I have in all reason very little room for much more. We have two very prominent circumstances much agitated just now, nearly connected with the progress and success of the good cause in this great land,- the liberty of conscience act, and the final abolition of the government donation. The former has passed into law, and has already produced many important results. Native christians at Calcutta, Madras, and Bombay, are obtaining their wives, children, and property, under its sanction and protection. One very important result of it is, that the orthodox natives in and about Calcutta, have had a large meeting or two for the purpose of lowering the penalty of forfeiture of caste, by the profession of christianity, to admit of converts returning to caste and condition, after they are tired of the gospel, as the orthodox suppose all soon will be. This is a grand move, chiefly as it indicates how seriously they think the aggression and inroads christianity is making on Hindooism. The beams of light have entered into the very centre of the system, and the conservators of idolatry are terribly alarmed for the consequences, Petitions are being got up among the natives in town and country, to be laid before the Parliament at home for the repeal of this liberty of conscience act. Signatures are at this time being collected at Cuttack. Of course this petition will share the fate of the anti abolition suttee-rite petition, even though it may find a Lushington to advocate it. There is, for once, a real and a very extensive stir among the people. Yet the ordinary feeling of the people is for the law; and nothing is more common than for the people to say, 'The religion of Christ is the truth, and it will prevail; what is the use of opposing it? It would be a good thing if the Sircal, (the goat) would order its establishment.' Such are the sentiments of the millions, but the brahmins and devotees, and others who fatten on the gains of idolatry, whince and grin, and would put a damper over the sun. In the meantime the readers among the people more generally, and with more earnestness, are reading and studying christian publications.

In six days hence the act for repealing the obnoxious donation to Jagannath will be considered, preparatory to its passing into law. The way the pundahs and people at Pooree are meeting the crisis is characteristic, and infinitely amusing. I give you an account of it, which was repeated the other day. While the raja of Khoorda was fast asleep and snoring at twelve o'clock of the night, he was favoured with a vision of the god. Jagannath appeared and called out, Raja! raja! The raja's sleep was broken, and with a wild and

surprised stare he perceived his jocose but awful visitant. The raja made his pronam, (his prostrations) and his namaskar, (his salutations,) and with joined hands and with his robes round his neck, waited the hookum, (the orders.) 'Raja,' says Jaganath, these English people are monstrous chandals, (unclean, barbarous, of bad caste.) I'll tell you how it is raja, I wont have any more of their rupees.' Thus saying, Jagannath became untirhete, (invisible) and the raja next morning propagated the news of his wonderful vision, and issued the great pretext for stopping the donation. Was not this very native? and was it not very rich? So this has been industriously propagated among the people. Some will believe it, and others will at once see through the trick, and be disgusted.

And now, dear brother, I must close. We are tolerably well, except Miss Collins, who has almost lost her voice, and is going to Pooree to try the effect of a change. She is rather too late in the season. We have a few

at Cuttack who are enquiring after their soul's salvation; and the fearful time passing over us, adds seriousness to religious impressions. May the Lord preserve us, often again to write to you, and to hear from you. 'Tis long since I heard from you. Please remem. ber me to my old friends at Loughborough. Yours in the gospel, C. LACEY.

RECENT BAPTISMS IN ORISSA.

On Lord's day, Aug. 3rd, two young persons were baptized at Cuttack, one of whom was the sister of Makunda, the native preacher, and the other the eldest daughter of our late valued brother, Bona Mallee. Mr. Buckley preached on the occasion, and received them into the church in the afternoon. Mr. Lacey baptized them.

Aug. 10th, Mr. Lacey baptized a young man at Choga. It is interesting to remark that Narayan Saho-the young man baptized on this occasion-is the son of Bearer Padhan, 'the old Persecutor,' of whom an account is given in the quarterly paper for December, 1850. His father said a short time before his death, I have served Juggernaut all my life; and I will not forsake him now. Come heaven, or come hell, I will die a votary of Juggernaut.' The father's melancholy end reminds us of the awful lines

'Behold the aged sinner goes,
Laden with guilt and heavy woes,
Down to the regions of the dead,
With endless curses on his head.'

Let us hope that the son's path will as the shining light, shine more and more unto the perfect day.

LONDON MISSIONARY SOCIETY.

THE death of Rev. Jos. John Freeman, Home Secretary of this Society, in September last, (the 8th) which took place in Flornberg in Germany, where he had gone for the benefit of the Medicinal waters, has been followed by intelligence of a series of others which will be equally felt by the Society and the religious public. We copy the following from 'The Missionary Magazine.' —

On

Death of the Rev. Dr. Philip.-When just on the eve of going to press, we have received the affecting intelligence of the decease of that eminent servant of God, and most able and efficient advocate of the rights of the coloured races, the Rev. John Philip, D.D., for upwards of thirty years superintendent of the Society's Missions in South Africa. account of his advanced age and physical infirmities, our revered friend and brother was induced to relinquish his important office two years since; and he thereupon retired from Cape Town, and took up his residence at Hankey Institution, in the interior, where, surrounded by his affectionate family, his laborious, useful, and honoured life was brought to a close, on the 27th of August ult. and he entered upon the rest that remaineth for the people of God.

Death of the Rev. R. Hamilton.-By the same mail that brought the intelligence of Dr. Philip's decease, we learn that another aged and devoted servant of God has been removed from the scene of toil. The Rev. Robert Hamilton, a faithful missionary of the Society in South Africa for thirty-five years, during thirty-four of which he had been associated with the Kuruman Mission, departed this life in the faith and hope of the Gospel, at Kuruman, on the 11th July ult.

Death of the Rev. D. Kenyon.—It is our further solemn duty to announce the decease of the Rev. Daniel Kenyon, of Albion Chapel Station, Berbice, on Sunday, the 17th of August ult., from an attack of dysentry.

MISSIONARY ANNIVERSARY.

MELBOURNE, Derbyshire.-On Lord's-day, Oct. 12th, two sermons were preached by Rev. T. Yates, of Hugglescote, on behalf of the Foreign Missions. On the following evening a spirited meeting was held; Mr. Gill in the chair. Addresses were delivered by Revds. J. Preston, J. J. Owen, Josiah Pike, J. Lethbridge, (Indep.) T. Yates, and our worthy Foreign Mission Secretary. The friends at Melbourne and Ticknall have raised this year £44 for the Mission.