THE DYAKS. enemy. He may be their friend. They do not kill him because they hate him, or because he has offended them, but only to get his head. Hence nobody is safe. All the men are ever seeking heads. They lie in wait on the road side, and attack any one that passes to chop off his head; and the Dyak who can produce his twenty, thirty, or fifty heads, is thought a great and honourable man. Indeed, they measure a man's consequence and honour by the number of heads he possesses. The American Board of Missions sent Missionaries to these people some years ago, and they have given us sad accounts of this practice. The people in the village where they lived boasted of the number of heads they had taken, and brought in several fresh ones every year. In the verandah of the house where they lodged, there were fifteen or twenty suspended from the roof; some directly over the places where they slept. On one occasion they tried to procure one of these heads to send home, but the natives refused to give them up. They think they act like charms to ward off evil. The Missionaries tried to shew them the wickedness and cruelty of the practice; but they laughed at them, and defended it as an honourable thing. With all this cruelty there are also some good things about their character. They are very industrious, and honest, and hospitable. Strangers are kindly treated by them, and, it is said, are quite safe in residing amongst them. Accordingly, Mis 39 sionaries are now labouring to do them good, but as yet have had only small success. The Dyaks are of course heathen, and are idolaters, but seem to have very little religious belief. They can scarcely be said to have any idea of God; but they worship their ancestors and great men, who have distinguished themselves by daring exploits, cutting off heads, &c. Whenever such persons die they make a wooden image of him, varying from twenty inches to three feet in height. When finished, they call the people together, and hold a feast of consecration, and then set him amongst the others. These images are looked on as patron gods, whose business it is to watch over and prosper the cultivation of rice, &c. They are generally kept in a shelter erected for them, but are brought out at the time of planting the rice, and are set with their faces towards the field until the harvest is gathered in. The only act of worship apparently paid them, is offering them food once a month. How different, dear children, is your lot to that of these poor Dyaks! No one is seeking your head, but all are trying to make you happy. No cruel master is making you his slave; but Jesus is waiting to make you his child-an heir of glory-a little prince to God. Oh! how thankful you ought to be that God has been so kind to you, and how anxious to send the gospel to those who know it not, to save them from their wretched state! THE HAPPY ENGLISH CHILD. I THANK the goodness and the grace, Which on my birth have smil'd; And made me in these Christian days, A happy English child. I was not born as thousands are, Where God was never known; And taught to pray a useless prayer To blocks of wood and stone. I was not born a little slave, And wish I were but in my grave, My God, I thank thee, thou hast plann'd And plac'd me in this happy land, JANE TAYLOR. "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not."-Mark x. 14. I SHALL close my little sermon on these words by saying a few things on the third point I laid down at its beginning, viz. III. The ENCOURAGEMENT you have to come. And here I might encourage you to Come, 1. By telling you of the kindness, and gentleness, and power of Him that invites you to come. Read over what I said of this before, and then say, does not the thought of Jesus being so good and kind make you feel encouraged to come and give up your heart to him? Oh, yes! I think it must? But, as I have already said enough on this matter, I must now encourage you by other means. 2. By telling you of his promises. You know he cannot tell an untruth. When he speaks he means what he says, and when he promises he is sure to fulfil. Well, he has promised to help you. Here are some of his promises: "Him that cometh unto me I will in nowise cast out," John vi. 37, "Come unto me all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," Matt. xi. 28. "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon," Isa. lv. 7. These are his promises, and hence we should be encouraged to come. But again, I may encourage you, 3. By telling you of many that have come, and have been most cordially received. There was Mary Magdalene, a very wicked woman, and you know how she came and got entire pardon. There was Zacheus the publican, a very unjust person, and you have read how Jesus received him, and brought salvation to his house. There was the dying thief, who cried to Jesus on the cross, and you know how welcome he was made. There was Saul of Tarsus, the blasphemer and persecutor, and yet Saul of Tarsus was forgiven when he came to Christ. And shall he not receive a little boy or a little girl that comes to him in simple faith? Oh, yes! I am sure he will, for he has received many, very many of them already. I have seen little boys and girls that came to Christ. I have heard them say, they knew he had pardoned all their sins, and I have been told how happy they were made; and He, my dear little friend, that saved them, is willing to save you, and says, in sweetest language, "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not." Oh! shall he call to you in vain? No! never! say now, "Lord take my heart, and whatsoe'er is mine; Price d. or 4d. per dozen. Published by J. GALL & SON, 38 North Bridge, Edinburgh. G. GALLIE, Glasgow. W. M'COMB, Belfast. J. ROBERTSON, Dublin. HOULSTON & STONEMAN, London. In my different stories about God's work | month mention some of their customs about in this Paper, some references have been, the dead. These are described by the and will still be made to peculiar customs, Missionaries who first visited them. which I cannot stay properly to describe; and, to meet this, it is my intention to give some notices, in distinct chapters, of such customs, with here and there a picture to illustrate their meaning. I begin with the South Seas, and this The South Sea islanders, like all savage and heathen nations that we read about, were much afraid of death. They fancied that as soon as the spirit left the body, it was seized by demons, and carried into a place, where it was eaten by the If the dead were a man of great rank and wealth, a priest was generally hired to attend at the bier or stage for some months, and perform additional ceremonies from time to time; but I have named the principal connected with the burial. The poor Tahitians used to connect with the death of their relatives some most cruel practices. They wailed and howled in the most affecting tones, tore their hair, rent their garments, and cut themselves with shark's teeth, or knives, in the most shocking manner. Their appearance at such times was most distressing and frightful, as with torn hair, and smeared all over with blood, they howled and jumped about like madmen. Sometimes this grief was shewn, not only by the family, but an entire vilage; and if a chief, an entire district, or an entire island. gods, not at once, but by degrees. They there. The hole was then filled up, and imagined also that it was scraped with a the people fancied the sins were buried. shell at different times, and that, after be- After this, all the persons who had assisted ing eaten three different times, it became in the ceremonies washed themselves and an immortal spirit, and was allowed to their clothes in the sea, and then returned come back to the world and visit others. to their homes. Their horror of death, and their dark notions of a future state, made them perform many singular rites when any person died. As soon as a person died, rites were performed to find out the cause of it; and if this was declared by the priests to be from the anger of the gods, other ceremonies were gone through to prevent the destruction of his friends. The bodies of great men, such as chiefs, were preserved, as long as possible, from destruction, by being embalmed; but those of the common people were burned. The manner of embalming the dead was very simple. They took out certain parts, and dried them in the They dried the body well, filled it with cloths soaked in sweet scented oils, and rubbed it all over with the same. Thus embalmed, the body was then placed upon a sort of stage, with a shed over it, and left to dry or decay in the sun. A little altar was sometimes erected near it, and the friends and relatives brought offerings of fruits and flowers every day for several months. The picture at the head of this Paper will give you a right idea of How different is such conduct to that we the shed. The woman is intended for a might now see amongst many of these very near relative presenting her offering. The people! All now is quietness and resignalaying of the corpse upon the stage was tion; and you can see the Christian burial, connected with many singular rites, one of and the religious ceremony, just the same which consisted in digging a hole near one as in our own favoured land. Let us pray of the posts, and burying in it the dead that very soon every island may be enman's sins. This was done by a priest lightened by the gospel, and that all these offering up a prayer, as soon as the hole foolish and cruel customs may for ever pass was dug, that all his sins might be cast in away. sun. Sometimes also their grief rose so high that they could only find a way to express it by beating one another with clubs and stones, which sometimes led to quarrels, and at last to murders. HEATHEN CRUELTY. I AM going, my dear young friends, to tell you a little story, which is quite true, about the poor degraded heathens in India, in order to stimulate you to seek more and more earnestly the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom. HEATHEN CRUELTY. Some years ago, when travelling in India, I had occasion to descend the Ganges for several hundred miles, during the rainy season, when the river is very high, the current strong and rapid, and a boat goes a great many miles in a day. 43 meant, his respects to me. I was thinking how the old beggar could be satisfied, when Ineard, from the other side of the building, moans as of a person in great pain. I went to the spot, and saw, extended on the cold hard earthen floor, with no covering of any kind,. a young man of apparently 18 or 19 years of age, of very interesting appearance. even a cup of cold water, or to speak one word of sympathy or kindness. I sailed in a boat called a Budgerow, and drew near the station to which I was going; when, early one morning, the wea- His sufferings seemed very great; death ther became suddenly very stormy. The was evidently approaching; but here, my waves rose like waves of the sea, and the dear young friends, was no soft pillow bebudgerow was tossed about with great vio-neath the head-no kind friend near to give lence. I had little confidence in the skill of the boatman, (or mangy, as he is called,) and I sent for him to beg he would anchor, (or lagon,) as soon as he could. He said he feared he could not do it, but he would try; at the same time, perceived he would rather proceed in spite of the storm. The result proved it would have been our best plan to have gone forward. After a good deal of difficulty, however, we got to the bank of the river, and, as it was still early, when the sun is not dangerous to Europeans, I went with my little baby and servants, to take a walk by the river side. When you are sick, dear children, you have kind friends to watch and tend you, and a soft pillow on which to rest your head; but ah! how different was it with. this dying heathen? I stooped down and spoke kindly to him.. I inquired about his sickness, and in what way I could best serve him. He was too ill to reply. He gazed earnestly at me, but answered only by his piteous moans. As I stood considering what I ought to do, the chowdrie of a neighbouring village came up, with his attendants. From him I had gone only a short way, when II learned that the poor sufferer was a saw, on a rising ground, near the road, the ruins of a heathen temple, and curiosity directed my steps towards it. bearer, who had fallen sick by the way, and been left here to die. The chowdrie added, that having no pice, (money) the young man was dying as much from want as from disease. I well knew, however from the dishonesty of the natives, that it he had any money when left where he was, The roof remained, but the sides of the building was falling to decay, so that it could be but a poor shelter from wind or rain, and I did not suppose any one could live in such a wretched place. As I it must have been stolen, as he was too ill came up, however, I saw something move within, which I soon discovered to be the figure of an old fakeer-a religious beggar, covered with some dirty tattered pieces of blanket. On seeing me, he rose up and began to beg very importunately. I can fancy I still see the old shrivelled creature, and hear the shrill peevish voice calling to me in Hindostanee, "Bu bu sahib salam't kurra. Bu bu sahib salam kurra," which to offer any resistance; and as any money I might give would just be stolen whenever I left him, I wished to help him now. asked if he would eat food prepared by my servants, and was told he would, being too near death to care about losing caste. Before returning, however, to the bud gerow for some rice and a bowl of tea for the sufferer, I bargained with the old fakeer for some of his blanket, to put below the young man, agreeing to pay him for it.. |