e gospel. The picture was dark,
but not darker than that drawn by the pen of divine Inspiration in the
first chapter of Romans. I carried it where I have learned to take all
which troubles me, and at my blessed Saviour's feet I promised I would
never turn my back on the Indian whom God had placed at my door, and I
have tried to keep the vow.

I can tell you the story of Indian missions by relating one incident.
Some years ago, Rev. Lord Charles Hervey went with me to the Indian
country. We had delightful services. After the Holy Communion we were
sitting on the green-sward near a house. The head chief said, "Your
friend came from across the great water; does he know the Indian's
history?" I said "No." He said "I will tell him."

"Before the white man came, the forests and prairies were full of game,
the rivers and lakes were full of fish, the wild rice was Manidou gift
to the red man. Would you like to see one of these Indians?" There
stepped out on the porch an Indian man and woman dressed in furs,
ornamented with porcupine quills. "There," said the chief, "my people
were like those before the white man came."

"Shall I tell you what the white man did for us? He came and told us we
had no fire horses, no fire canoes, no houses. He said if we would sell
him our land, he would make us like white men. Shall I tell you what he
did? No, you had better see it." The door opened, and out stepped a
poor, degraded looking Indian, his face besmeared with mud, his blanket
in rags, no leggins, and by his side a poor, wretched looking woman in a
torn calico dress. The chief raised his hands and said, "Manido Manido,
is this an Indian?" The man bowed his head. "How came this?" The Indian
held up a black bottle and said, "This was the white man's gift." Some
of us bowed our heads in shame.

Said the chief, "If this were all, I would not have told you. Long years
ago a pale-faced man came to our country. He spoke kindly, and seemed to
want to help us, but our hearts were hard. We hated the white man and
would not listen. Every summer when the sun was so high, he came. We
always looked to see his tall form coming through the forest. One year I
said to my fellows, 'what does this man come for? He does not trade with
us, he never asks anything of us. Perhaps the Great Spirit sent him.' We
stopped to listen. Some of us have that story in our hearts. Shall I
tell you what it has done for us?" The door opened and out stepped a
young man-