cut up flowers, and smeared with red ochre, is led up to the altar. With a single stroke the head is severed from the body, and the blood poured upon the altar. The animal is then and taken away to be made into curry, which, with the addition of rice, forms the sacred feast. The Devil dance now commences. Music is always an accompaniment, consisting of tom-toms (a kind of small drum), certain wind instruments, and bells, giving forth together the most discordant and noisy sounds. The dance takes place in a semicircle kept clear in front of the temple. The musicians commence with low tones, the devil-dancer moves in accordance. As the sounds of the music increase, his steps quicken; he moves from side to side, throws his body into various attitudes, shakes himself, leaps, and, as the music becomes louder and louder, glares fiercely, cuts himself till the blood flows, rushes backwards and forwards furiously, and acts as if he were a madman, When he has become most violent in his contortions, the votaries give a peculiarly deafening shout, which may be heard a long way off. After this has been going on for some time, the by-standers come forward to consult the wild dancer or priest, for they believe that to him has now been revealed the mind of the demon. His mutterings and groanings are supposed to be answers given to inquiries, but it is difficult to understand how these are interpreted. After the devil-dancer has exhausted himself the feast begins. A portion of curry, and rice, and fruit, is offered to the demon; the rest is divided among those who have joined in the sacrifice. These sacrificial feasts, I believe, always take place in the night. This worship of devils chiefly prevails in Southern India. It is most systematically followed by the Shanars, though other classes of the people practise it. While in India we were often disturbed by these nightly gatherings. The noise was peculiarly distressing, as we associated it with the worship of those who knew not God, and who were hurrying on to destruction, unless saved by the power of the Gospel. Various means have been used to enlighten the devil-worshippers, and impart to them a knowledge of salvation; and God's power has been manifested in the conversion of thousands of these degraded people. Many are now sitting at the feet of Jesus, and learning of Him. Some who were devil-dancers are now proclaiming Christ crucified to their countrymen. Devil temples have been demolished. The Gospel, dear young readers, has proved itself mighty overthrow such superstitions. The pity and love of Christ have extended to these debased worshippers of devils, and His grace is preparing many for the high service of heaven. Are you, too, yielding your hearts to the claims of the Saviour, whose ways are ways of pleasantness and all whose paths are peace? THE AFRICAN "RAIN-MAKER." BY THE REV. JOHN BROWN. TRAVELLING TO THE RAIN-MAKERS' COUNTRY. THERE is a saying which I have often heard when in England, but the beauty of which I have had to learn in this far-off land of Africa. I daresay all of you know it, for it is this: "March winds and April showers bring forth May flowers." I have lately been thinking of this saying very much, and I wish to remind all the readers of this magazine of the privilege they enjoy in a land where this can be said with tolerable certainty every year. I have just returned from a toilsome journey, with a missionary, into a part of this country where an April shower, such as you look forward to, is seldom enjoyed by the poor people. For a long time previous to my setting out to meet my brother missionary there had been very little rain anywhere, and many places had been entirely without. In consequence of this, a disease had appeared ainong oxen, sheep, and goats, which affected the tongue and feet; and the poor things might be seen limping about in evident pain, and scarcely able to eat. There are few places where there is sufficient water for watering the land; and, as it would be useless for the people to sow their grain till the earth is made damp, the picking grounds or gardens were quite neglected, and the people began to fear that the sowing time would pass by without any hope of a future harvest. Under these circumstances, you may all readily imagine how eagerly the famishing people looked up to the sky for a promise of the precious rain. It was very distressing to visit some of the towns, and perceive, in the wasted bodies of so many, the traces of hunger, and the children coming from the bushes, where they had spent hours in seeking a few small roots, which formed the only food of numbers. But I want to tell you about what I saw and heard at one heathen town. An old man came to our waggons, who, from the number of charius around his neck, the missionary at once suspected of being a native 66 'doctor," or "rainmaker." The missionary commenced talking to him, and inquiring as to the nature of the different charms; and the old man seemed quite willing to inform him as to what he thought they had power to do. It was soon discovered that he pretended to the power of making rain, and that he was really employed by the chief of that town to do so. He asked if we had not seen the sticks with which he had pierced the ground for that purpose, as we entered the town. Now, God had mercifully sent some heavy thunder storms a day or two before, and the missionary asked the old man if he had brought them. He said, No; that was the rain which had been made by a "doctor" employed in a neighbouring village, who had received a black ox for his successful efforts. Several people stood around as the missionary pointed out the folly of such a pretension, and they laughed at the old man; and yet there is no doubt that all of them believed in his asserted powers, and would still go on to trust in him to bring that which they so much needed. Now, my dear young friends, I want you to think of, and pray for, the poor people who are thus led, by their ignorance and deeply-felt need, to look to a man for that precious blessing which is the gift of God alone. Remember the poor little children here, who are brought up in the midst of so much heathenism and misery; and, as you think of your own privileges and blessings, pray to our Father in heaven to look upon them in mercy, and send them the knowledge of His power as the only true God, and of his love to them in Christ Jesus. Kuruman, 1866. OUR venerable missionary, the Rev. J. Moffat, gives an amus ing account of a "rain-maker," with whom he once came in contact. There had been no rain for a long period, and the ground was parched; so the "rain-maker" was sought, and entreated to use his supposed power. After he had gone through a host of absurd ceremonies, there was still no rain: so, to gain time, knowing how difficult it was to catch a baboon, he told them that, to make rain, he must have a baboon, but it must be perfect one-not a hair must be wanting on its body. So off they went to the mountain, and gave chase to the creatures, who leaped from rock to rock, screaming, grinning, and gnashing their teeth. At length, after scratching their bodies and bruising their toes, |