may see that there is no improbability in the conjecture that Christianity in India may yet have to wage a protracted and a perilous conflict with the spurious philosophical systems of that country. Our missionaries must study them, not merely despise them. And we must not be impatiently hasty in urgently demanding from the missionaries a measure and amount of success not so easily attainable; neither must we be unduly discouraged should difficulties of new characteristics arise, when we had been expecting an easy and early victory. It is ours to give all encouragement to the missionary enterprise in India; for God has given it to Britain apparently for that end; but it is God's own promise to crown our efforts with success when He may please, after trial of enduring and persevering faith and prayer, and in answer to the prayers of true and tried faith.

PORTRAITS IN OUTLINE.

II.-HANS EGEDE.

To be a minister of Christ! What does it mean? Does it mean that when some godly people have asked a man, who has been set apart to the service of God in the work of the ministry, to come and live among them, and break ùnto them of the bread of life, that having done so, he is to live for them, and for them alone? Truly we think not!

The field is the world; and though all things, to be done well, must be gone about in proper time, place, and order, yet, if there be one spot where souls are perishing, and no man taking heed thereto, then let the most devoted, warm-hearted minister of Christ seek it out, and let him unfurl the standard of his Master, and leave it not till Jesus has given new hearts to the men of the land, and their hands have become willing to hold the banner up, and their hearts ready to rejoice when they see its white folds opening up by the gentle breath of the heavenly Spirit, while its blood-red letters proclaim mercy to the chief of sinners. "His banner over me was love." Such thoughts as these were flitting through the mind of a devoted servant of Christ, as he sat in his little study one winter evening, with a book open before him. There was a troubled look in his face. Was he discontented with his very plain attire, or, as he looked round his room, was he thinking how very few books were there, or that if he could become the pastor of a wealthier people, how he could indulge himself with many more such treasures? The door of the study opens, and a little curly head appears-" Father, we are waiting for you." The little head was quickly withdrawn. That troubled look on the father's face was unusual. The child felt it, so did the mother, when he appeared in the midst of them. The evening prayer was solemn, the evening meal passed almost in silence. The household slept, not the pastor. But would the reader like to know who he is? He is Hans Egede, the humble pastor of a congregation in the north of Norway; and the time of which we write was about the year 1708. The cause of his

trouble was the book he had been reading, which contained an account of some Norwegian families, who had settled on the east coast of Greenland, early in the eleventh century, and who had not been heard of since the beginning of the fifteenth. He had thought of their descendants having lost the knowledge of the true God, and living in that wild barren land, with little comfort in this life, and no hope for eternity, and a strange feeling had come over his soul, that he should go and preach Christ to them.

We have said he could not sleep-his thoughts were busy, and his heart felt as if pulled in pieces. There was strong love for his people, among whom he had laboured for many years. He thought he saw their tears, when he told them of his resolution to leave them—and, on the other side, he imagined he saw a crowd of miserablelooking people crowding on the beach of that far-off land, to see who was coming to comfort them in that great vessel. The quiet breathing of the little sleepers around him chilled his very soul, so that he could scarcely draw his own breath. They must, by his acting thus, be deprived of all their little comforts. They might die of cold. How could he do it? Then the strong, loving, heart at his side! How would she receive the intelligence? He had vowed to nourish and cherish her-would this be doing it? But the whirl of thought found rest. The words "He that loveth wife or child more than me is not worthy of me," crept into his soul. The deeper, stronger, love prevailed, and Hans Egede resolved to go.

But, did Satan ever allow a great work for God to begin without throwing doubts and difficulties in the way? No! He is a mighty king, who will make war

for every inch of ground which those sent of God seek to take from him. So the poor pastor had more to bear. Friends poured in letters upon him, beseeching him to. give up such an undertaking, and appealing to his feelings in their weakest point, that which looked to his wife and children. Hans yielded, and all again seemed well. So much was he over-mastered, that he even felt glad he had escaped from what now seemed a snare. But that still small voice which had come with such power on that night in his study, was from God, and the will and power of God rules over all. Again Hans Egede's face was clouded, and he went about everything like one sad. The child of light was walking in darkness. Satan was again at work. His wife, who had ever sought to comfort him in trials, became impatient with him, telling him he seemed obstinately bent to bring them all into sorrow. Things became not so pleasant with the pastor and his people-God saw he must be weaned from them. Egede bade his wife seek direction by prayer, and then did this woman become noble, and first find the way in the path of duty. She committed her husband, herself, and her little ones into God's keeping, and counselled her husband to leave his flock and his home, and go forth fearing nothing.

The first great step was taken in the work-they left their home. How very sad they felt. The sweet young buds of spring were shewing themselves all around them, but they would never see their leaves. The smoke had ceased to curl up that chimney-the fire was out, at which they had often talked and sung of Jesus' love together. The little children had to suffer, and the parents through them.

Their pets must all be left behind: the piteous howl of the old house-dog—which they had left, tied up, in the care of another, to keep it from following them-rung in their ears, and the children wept when they spoke of it. But the fire of love in their hearts was too strong to let many sorrows quench it, and soon they arrived in Bergen.

How men talk of, and judge one another! Men of the world allege,—“It can only be for money, or ambition, that men will give up one home and go to another." They smile at conscientious motives, and say, "If it was a place of less money, conscience would go the other way." Thus they. speak in regard to ministers. No other class of men can come under such judgment; for to every class except ministers, it becomes duty to seek for their work the highest remuneration they can get. But a minister should never be rich—if he has wealth, let God's poor ones partake of it. As neither money nor ambition stood out as motives in this act of Egede, men said he was mad. We might all say as a noble lady said of Wilberforce, "If this be madness, I wish he would bite us all.”

Egede now began in earnest. He had one difficulty after another to contend with,-as to means-war-people to go with him—and people to take an interest in the mission. He had an interview with Frederick IV., King of Denmark, at Copenhagen; and, after much delay, God at last opened up the way before him, and, in May 1721, he sailed, with his wife, four children, and forty settlers, for Greenland.

How good it is for God's people that they enter into the rest of the Lord, even in this world, for wave follows