gospel to Asia!" "Foreign missions!" Would it not be looked upon by sober people as a very rash and foolish enterprise-foolish, because impossible? Let us see what brave spirits firmly persuaded of their duty can do. This little praying band next formed themselves into a society, whose object was, themselves to effect a mission or missions to the heathen: personal consecration to the work was the pledge. The pledge was made Sept. 7, 1808. "What ministers can we hope to interest in this great work?" was the next question. Dr. Worcester, of Salem, Dr. Spring, of Newburyport, Dr. Morse, of Charlestown, Dr. Griffin, of Newark, were among those to whom they more particularly looked for sympathy and countenance. Attempts were made to awaken interest among the pious students of other colleges, and for this purpose one of their number took a dismission to Middlebury; Mills visited Yale, and a correspondence was entered into with members of Dartmouth and Union colleges. Two sermons were also published and circulated, at the expense of the society to arouse and move the Christian mind. Samuel J. Mills, James Richards, and Luther Rice, having finished their college course, entered upon their studies for the ministry at Andover, Massachusetts. Here they were joined by Adoniram Judson, Gordon Hall, Samuel Newell, and Samuel Nott. Mr. Judson had already caught the missionary spirit by reading the book of an English missionary, called "The Star in the East,' and he was prepared not only to enter fully into their plans, but with his ardent spirit to urge them on. Judson said he was ready to seek help from English Christians, if his countrymen held back, and Gordon Hall declared he would work his passage to India, and rely upon God to take care of him. Of course such spirits could not be held back. In June, 1810, the general association of ministers met at Bradford, and four of these young men, Mills, Judson, Newell and Nott, presented to them a written statement of their views and wishes, and besought the advice of their fathers in the ministry. These good men cordially approved of their object; the duty of immediately sending the gospel to the heathen was clearly recognized, and the formation of a society for this purpose was recommended. On September 5, 1810, at Farmington, Connecticut, the committee to whom the matter was referred, organized a foreign missionary society, by the name of "The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions," the first foreign missionary board in the United States; and this board has now 663 laborers connected with its missions. The first missionaries which it sent out -the self-denying and heroic pioneers in this great work-went to Asia. Their names were Adoniram Judson, Samuel Nott, Samuel Newell and Gordon Hall. Samuel J. Mills, whose youthful mind was first impressed with the wretched state of the poor heathen, did not live to go to tell them of a Saviour's love. Though modest and retiring, his activity in doing good was remarkable. Besides foreign missions, the Bible and the African-school societies were set on foot through his efforts. He died at the early age of 34, on board a ship, of an African fever caught on the coast of Africa, where he had been to seek out a suitable spot for a Christian colony for the colored man on his native soil. At a meeting of some gentlemen last August, at Williams College, it was "Resolved, That the grounds north of the west college, where Mr. Mills and his associates used to meet for prayer, and where the first American missions were projected, be purchased by the Alumni of the college, and be called the Mission Park and Grounds." If battle-grounds, and the generals who fought on them, have monuments to hand down their memory to future generations, how fitting is it that Christian heroes, and the spots marked by the triumphs of their faith, should have some suitable memorials to designate their worth. To the pious heart, the groe on the banks of the Hoosac, and the site of the old hay-stack, is consecrated ground, for there was poured forth that fervent effectual prayer from believing men, which hath availed so much in extending the Redeemer's kingdom. THE FIRST SNOW IN AUTUMN. BY THE EDITOR. "The pale descending year, yet pleasing still, THERE is much about the later days of Autumn that fixes itself in the minds and memories of those whose early life has been passed in the country. Who does not remember the first snow? It comes as a kind of first-fruit before the general reign and rigor of winter begins. First we have fog-like, chilly-looking clouds gathering along the horizon, and gradually extending up the sky. Soon successive showers of cold, mist-like rain begin to roll from the mountains, and extend over the country; but there is not enough to start rills in the road, only to soften the surface into slush. At length the drops grow larger, come down faster, and the rain would soon begin to wash the slushy mud in the road, did it not-see!-turn silently into snow! At first there is only here and there a large flake, coming down more slowly than the rain; but soon the snow prevails, and all around there is one general shower of flakes making toward the earth with a silent majesty of movement that makes one quiet to see. Even the form of the clouds are hid by the millions of falling flakes, so that the sky looks like a deep white sea above. The distant hills and mountains are almost hidden by the intervening sheet of descending show. Only now and then, when there is a gentle momentary abatement, do their outlines appear. How peculiarly pleasant it is to sit at the window in the house, or stand under the feeding-room door at the barn, and look out, dry and sheltered, into the mingled scene of rain and snow. How sweet the sense of security which then steals over the spirit! See! the snow does not make much impression upon the earth. There is too much rain mixed with it; and the ground is too warm and wet. In the road it but barely congeals the mud, and leaves no trace of snow. On the wood-pile the chips are thinly covered. In the house-yard and meadow it hangs here and there in a thin sheet upon tufts of heavy grass. In the garden it lingers on the broad leaves of cabbage, on red-beet and turnip tops, and covers the saffron beds. The barn-yard remains slushy and bare, and the snow melts as fast as it falls, except where it lodges upon the unrotted straw. All around the smoking manure, and the backs of the patiently standing cattle, receive the flakes as to their tomb, as quickly do they disappear as on the surface of the open lake, or gliding stream. It is so new and interesting to see in the orchard, how the trees, still covered with yellow-tinged leaves and ripe fruit, stand silently, half hid by the flakes, as if to mock and defy the stern approaches of winter as if they said to the snow shower, Cease and abide your time! The snow is lodged upon the leaves and branches, and the wet glistening apples are seen, as if they smiled, through the sheet of falling snow. What a mingling of summer and winter; yet both the snow and the apples remind us of the coming cheerful Christmas fire. Now the snow comes down hurriedly and thick. It seems as if it could not melt as fast as it falls. Yet still, most that it can do on the surface of the earth in general, is to chill the mud and hang the green blades of grass and wheat with cold drops. It is the early snow, and the earth is yet too warm to sustain a wintry sheet upon its bosom. There are yet many sunshiny and genial days behind the storm; and though the youngsters, too easily swayed by first impressions, are already thinking of sleighs, rabbit-tracks, and partridge-traps, yet the "old people" soon correct their hasty decision by the words, "The Indian summer must first come. The winter apples are yet on the trees, the corn is yet in the fields; and when did Providence bury the rich treasures of autumn with the snows of winter? Father has known God too long to be alarmed by the early snow! As we expected the snow-shower is abating. Gradually there falls less and less. The mountains, the trees, the fences, the distant woods, and the shape of the clouds appear, and as they are seen they already begin to hasten away. In an hour the wood-pile, and the straw are bare: the green leaves and tufts of grass are uncovered; and the garden is as before. Though the clouds still hang upon the mountain's brow, and lie low and heavy along the distant horizon, yet the sun will be out to-morrow and the farmer will go forth to gather his corn, potatoes, and apples. The housewife, with her daughters, will be busy in gathering the " garden things" into the cellar, or bury them in round heaps of straw and earth. Behold! the early snow is past. The Indian summer is here. It is mellow Autumn again. Such a day as we have just described is not lost to the farmer. After breakfast an hour is spent in a kind of easy leisurely deliberation around the kitchen fire, and sometimes not without some annoyance to the women to whom that dominion properly belongs. Now and then we look out at the window, or the door to see-what is firmly looked for-that the storm will soon abate. As, however, the snow continues longer than was at first expected, and as the whole day now bids fair to be too unpleasant for out-door work, the boys may get up a large fire in the cellar, and the horse-gears, which have just gone through a season of severe use in seedingtime-having been exposed to the hot sun and sudden summer showers, and being now dry and brittle-must receive a thorough greasing, that they may again become both softer and stronger. A few articles are needed from town; and as the snow and rain have somewhat abated, one of the boys may attend to that little business. Meanwhile the fruit-cellar needs to be cleared out, and a place prepared for the potatoes, for they must be taken in as soon as the ground is dry enough after this wet spell. The same kind of work is needed in the corn-crib; and in the stables there must be a place provided for the pumpkins with which the cattle are to be fed in early winter. There has been some new corn cast into the bake-oven to dry for cakes and bread. This may now be brought into the cellar, and before the cheerful fire, shelled-this will be a pleasant evening employment. How fine will the first cakes taste! Such is the day in a farm-house, which ushers in the first snow of autumn. How beautiful are all things in their time and season. How pleasant are the memories of the past; and with how many and strange cords of association does a kind Providence bind back our life to its early beginnings that we may not forget the earlier good which is too often covered with later evil. AUTUMN BY WORDSWORTH. THE Sylvan slopes with corn-clad fields Like a fair sister of the sky, Unruffled doth the blue lake lie, And, sooth to say, yon vocal grove, By love untaught to ring, For that, from turbulence and heat This, this is holy, while I hear This hymn of thanks and praise, And earth's precarious days! |