populous part of China proper, leave at least 120 millions for the northern diocese of Bishop Scott, and 90 millions for the southern diocese of Bishop Burdon.

We call these huge divisions "dioceses" for convenience sake; but this word is not used in forgetfulness of other Missions, or with any assumption of territorial jurisdiction as a matter of right-only to show the possibilities of evangelistic work under each Bishop, if the Church supplied the means.

What is the Church of England doing for these millions? In the north, we find the newly-consecrated Bishop, two missionary

clergy, and a lay missionary waiting for Holy Orders. In the south, the Bishop, six missionary clergy, and five ordained Chinese pastors. In Mid-China, the Bishop, ten missionary clergy, and four ordained Chinese pastors. bring

What are these among so many? Let us continually " them hither" to the Lord of the harvest, praying for His blessing on the little band at work, and asking Him also, by the power of His Holy Spirit, to thrust forth many more labourers into His harvest. A. E. MOULE.

WEST AFRICAN CLERGY.

N the early days of the Church Missionary Society, there were not many people who believed in the capacity of the Negro for education. Could a black child be taught to read ?-was a question often put, in a tone which plainly meant that the answer must be, "Impossible!" When, in 1816, the first attempt was made to open schools for the miserable slaves rescued by British ships and brought to Sierra Leone, did even the most believing and the most hopeful ever dream that sixty-five years after there would have been sixty-five Negroes ordained to the ministry of the Church of England? That is one a year; but the first, Samuel Crowther, was not "crowned a minister (as the Africans called it) till 1843, nor the second and third till 1849; and the great majority have been added in the last twenty years. Several have gone to their rest; but at the present time there are twenty-five employed by the C.M.S., about twenty by the Sierra Leone Native Church, three by the Government as Colonial Chaplains, and a few others in other ways.

Archdeacon Henry Johnson is the son of a Native Christian of Sierra Leone, a rescued Yoruba slave. He was educated in the Colony, and then was for eight years tutor in the Grammar School in which he had been a scholar. In 1865 he came to England, and entered the C.M. College. He received deacon's orders on December 23rd, 1866, from Bishop Anderson, acting for the Bishop of London (Dr. Tait), and priest's orders a year later from Bishop Tait himself. On his return to Africa he laboured in the Sherbro country for a time; but in 1878 he again visited England, and was then sent to Palestine to learn

ARCHDEACON HENRY JOHNSON, Upper Niger.

Arabic, with a view to future work among the Mohammedans of West Africa. He 1876 he went to Lagos, and became minister of the important Breadfruit Church. In 1878 Bishop Crowther appointed him Archdeacon of the Upper Niger; but he was detained at Lagos two years more, and has only now been able to take up his new Niger work.

Archdeacon Dandeson Coates Crowther is the Bishop's youngest son. He too was educated on the African coast, but afterwards came to England, to the C.M. College. When, in 1870, he was ready for ordination, the Bishop was in this country; and on June 19th of that year the interesting and unprecedented scene was witnessed at Islington Parish Church, of an African son being ordained by an African father, Bishop Crowther himself performing the ceremony under a special commission from the Bishop of London. Shortly afterwards, father and son returned to Africa together; and Mr. D. Crowther has ever since laboured zealously at Bonny.

The Rev. James Quaker is an older man than either of the others. He was ordained in 1856. He is the Principal of the highly successful and self-supporting Sierra Leone Grammar School, with which, as tutor and principal, layman and clergyman, he has been connected for thirty-two years. About 900 African boys and young men have passed under his care during that time.

All three men are highly respected on the coast by both Europeans and Natives. They have different talents and gifts, but these are all consecrated to the service of the Master who has called His servants to such important and influential positions. They and the rest of the African clergy need our continual prayers that both by their life and doctrine they may set forth God's glory and set forward the salvation of all men.

A VISIT TO GIRIAMA. EADERS of the GLEANER in the past three or four years can scarcely have forgotten the interesting little Native Christian community in the Giriama country, fifty miles north of Mombasa. (See especially GLEANER of January, 1878.) Many years ago, a Native servant of the late Rev. J. Rebmann, named Abe Ngoa, filled with remorse at having caused his wife's death by a wound given her in anger, went away into the forest in the district of Giriama, and lived there alone. He had with him the Gospel of St. Luke in the language of the country (Kinika), which Rebmann had taught him to read; and with no other instruction but this, several people who gathered round him were led by the teaching of the Spirit to give up their superstitions and "join the Book." In later years they were visited by the missionaries, and in 1875-6-7 several were baptized. A year or two ago their present leader, Abe Sidi, moved from their village, Godoma, to another one, Fulladoyo; and now there are two little Christian communities set as lights in the midst of dense darkness. Mr. J. R. Streeter, the Lay Superintendent at Frere Town, has sent the following most interesting narrative of a recent visit to these two villages and to some of the heathen chiefs of the surrounding country. The map in our last number should be referred to. Letter from Mr. J. R. Streeter.

FRERE TOWN, Dec. 28th, 1880. To find Fulladoyo on the map you will want a good magnifying glass, but if I tell you it is about twenty-five miles inland, a little south from Melinde, it will be a guide. Now perhaps you would like to know something of my "safari," i.e., journey. For a long time it had been on my mind to see the old chieftain Fungo, who is really the Giriama king, as I knew he was well disposed to us, but could not come to see me on account of his infirmities. I did not like the thought of his going to his long home without knowing something of "The Way, the Truth, and the Life"; so, as all seemed quiet, I got Mr. Menzies to let me have our trusty catechist George David, and leaving him Ishmael, we started off (Nov. 20) with a dozen men. Our first halt was at Rabai, where Mr. and Mrs. Binns gave me a good tea, and we had a good night's rest. Early morn we were under way again, and soon crossed the river Kombini (sweet-water), the same that I crossed three years back when in flood, then a foaming rush of water, over 100 yards broad and fifty feet deep; now we went over dry-shod on its rocky bed, then up hill and down dale, a rich, park-like country, till we came to a deserted clump of cocoanut-trees, for which blood had been shed between the Giriama and Rabai folk, the latter wanting the ground to form a "scientific frontier." Our road now went through Ruruma, which district is covered with cocoanut-trees; and at length we found ourselves, about three o'clock, at the city of the man whose word is pretty well law for thousands.

The "city" consists of some fourteen huts, partly in ruins; and, sad to say, our guide, a nice elder from a near village, informed us that King Fungo and his Prime Minister were too drunk to be seen, and a younger man had to show us the house, &c. The doorway, three feet high, ricked my back getting in and out. In the centre of the hut is a large round wicker-work cage for holding their store of mahindi, the fire-place being below; there is no chimney or window, and this leaves a grimy passage all round, three or four feet broad, which is kitchen, parlour, and bedroom. The heavy rains in the night woke one sharp, the roof being pretty close to one's head; but instead of grumbling, I was really thankful to get such a good place, and have a roof that did not let the rain in just over me, though it did in other parts, which made it pretty wet below. Outside the front door was a nice pool of slush, ankle deep, in which a kind-hearted soul, seeing it was bad for the Mzungu's (foreigner's) boots, put two rows of stones. In this palace we slept three nights.

Next morning the chief and his Prime Minister came, and we had a good talk about the Saviour. They asked many sensible questions, and the chief was particularly anxious to know what they should not do to make God angry. So I had to tell them of their state yesterday, for which they many times asked forgiveness, and then turned to the Ten Commandments; but as I told them it would take too long, knowing they had to work that day, we arranged to stay Sunday and tell them more. The next day, Sunday, one and another came to see us. At last our circular compartment was uncomfortably close-it was raining hard-so we were asked to move to another hut, where there was no centre basket, and there sat round twelve of the oldest men from different parts of the country. They said they had unexpectedly found the Mzungu, and their wives and people would want to know why he had come, and if they

could not tell they would look foolish and be laughed at. Here was an unlooked-for opportunity, as, instead of speaking to one old man, here were the elders of different villages, who would take the message of salvation nearly over the country. We had a long talk (George interpreting into Kinika), based on that beautiful seventh chapter of the Revelation, to which they gave a willing ear. There was only one old grumbler, who said they did not want "The Book"; their old customs served them; the only thing they wanted was rain (all the while it was raining hard), and George turned him beautifully by saying, If a man wanted anything in this country, how was he to get it? He must come to their King Fungo first, &c. And who held the rain, and how could it be got? Why, "The Book," to tell you about Him and His ways, is just what you want. The others bade him keep quiet. Then the old chief returned to his yesterday's point, as to what they should not do, and I explained to him the Commandments, and we kept on till past twelve. No breakfast, but that did not matter; it was a grand opportunity, and although, humanly speaking, one could not hope to do much with such grey heads, I wanted them not to put obstacles in the way of their younger people, as they cannot go against their elders.

In the afternoon we had a quiet little service in the same hut with our own people, and when the glistening stars lit up the blue ethereal sky, it was nice to hear in the distance the sound of familiar strains, and to see our men sitting round a wood fire, singing away so heartily, all by themselves, the hymns Ishmael and I have had such work to teach them. This was a pleasant surprise, it being the first time I had heard them alone, and made a nice finish to a very happy Sunday.

Early next morning we had a few parting words, and then, with many friendly farewells, started on our journey, crossing plenty of fresh trails of the buffalo in the dewy grass, and numerous deer, &c. Soon a stiff shower came on, and we had a pretty good soaking in the tall grass, but it did not matter much, for we had light hearts from our nice reception at Fungo's, and I knocked over two birds nearly as large as turkeys, which brightened the men's supper prospects. Later on, mid-day, while the men were resting near a brackish river, the Ngovuni, I walked up some distance, knocked over a large bird like a duck, only with pointed bill, and a beautiful stork. Then we were on the tramp once more through a large wood, to which there seemed no end. Five o'clock came, still on; six o'clock, still on; then darkness for an hour, our guide only knowing the road, and we all following. This I thought was a good illustration of faith. At last we reached the outskirts, and on a hill in the distance shone a bright fire-light, for which we made; and after sitting on our bundles the best part of an hour sharpening one's appetite and trying one's patience, the owner of the village, Manjewa, gets a place ready. It is no use trying to hurry-patience is the grand desideratum for East Africa.

The owner was a nice old man. I don't think he had seen Mzungu before, and he listened so earnestly, and his wife also, to what we had to say, that it was about eleven before the old gentleman said good night, and we retired to roost, but not to rest. As we were assured of a short day's journey, and there were many listeners, and the "mzee" (ie., title of respect for old mau) and his wife seemed so anxious to hear more of God's ways, we did not hurry off next day. I don't know when I have had more attentive listeners. The old man may be a heathen, but he seems to have a beautiful spirit, and his wife also, a nice happy little woman, was so good to our men, when they came late, helping them to get water, wood, &c. Now she came in her best-such a show of beads, bead stockings, bead armlets, coils and coils round her not very slender waist, and her short frizzly hair like a snowball covered with white beads; besides she had a charm of beads worked on leather hanging at her side like a watch-pocket, which, as I saw she was much impressed with what we said, I asked her to exchange with me, and greatly to our surprise she took it off and made me a present of it. On the string that fastened it was a little knot of something, and she said she could not part with that, as all her beliefs were in that. As I saw her old faith was shaken I would not press her too hard, but said next time I came was sure she would give it me, and at parting she said we were to be sure and come that way again soon.

[At length the party reached their furthest destination, Fulladoyo, which is apparently an island in a river.]

Their forest home is on an island, and we had to cross the river on a rough fallen tree, a very ugly crossing indeed by night. We could just make out the water about ten feet below. Soon we were at home receiving a hearty welcome from Abe Sidi. House, water, and all was ready, and a big fire blazing outside, around which all the people gathered.

You will remember how some two years back Abe Sidi separated from his Godoma brethren, and with two other families started a fresh place in the jungle near, twenty miles off, and Mr. Handford visited him then. Now the place has from thirty to forty huts, and over one hundred people are gathered round. I am afraid some are runaways from the coast, but the greater part are from Makongeneh, and a few of his own tribe. They have a splendid place, good ground, a nice spring of water (the River Voi is brackish), and plenty of jungle to cut. They are building themselves famous huts. Already their first little church is too small,

and they have another nearly finished, 30 feet by 18 feet, walls 10 feet high. Every morning we had short service there, and he has taught some of the people to read a little, and they know several hymns, and it was cheering as I walked round at night time to hear some praying aloud in their own houses before going to bed. I had little rest myself, and at last I turned out in the open and sat by the log fire.

Abe Sidi we found very downcast, for he has endured much persecution from his people on account of those gathered round him and following The Book," so destroying their old customs. Some had just been threatening to destroy his place and kill him, but he told them if they had anything to say I was coming up and they should come then, so we were soon waited on, and a meeting was fixed for Friday.

Thursday we had many visitors, and in the afternoon walked over to the village of Abe Sidi's father, who has been much against him and "The Book." We had a long talk. Amongst our visitors were four young fellows who could not make out writing, I was teaching little Solomon Sidi. I asked one his name, wrote it down, then asked Solomon to read it, and he did; they said, "Let him go outside and try another," and he did; they said, "He overheard, try again," and this time one stood in the doorway and saw Solomon a long way off, and another whispered, but of course it made no difference, and they were almost as much surprised as we were when youngsters at seeing "Bosco" bring a plum-pudding out of a hat. There was another very handsome young fellow who seemed much interested in all my things, and at what he heard. At last he said to George, "The Mzungu is a clever man, and knows a great deal; he should like to ask him two questions." Leave was granted. "Well," said he, "you see the lightning, sometimes it takes the top off a tree, now where does it come from, and where does it go to?" I pretty well satisfied him on that point. The next was the great question that pervades most minds; not, "What shall I do to be saved?" but, What can I do to become rich? I told him how he might do that, and then led on to a long and earnest conversation from Matt. vi.

In the afternoon the elders met. It is sufficient now to say that the accusation against Abe Sidi fell to the ground, in fact his chief accusers were too frightened to appear before me, and it ended in a great thing, their agreeing to recognise those who had gathered round Abe Sidi as brothers, and they much wanted me to come and live amongst them. There were some sixty or seventy present, and as I saw I had their ears you may be sure I did not lose the opportunity of giving them some good lessons. As we sat patiently for three hours, and there were many young people gathered round, I got them to try some jumping; they did very well, but the old man beat them all with a long jump of 16 feet, so I do not think there can be much the matter with him.

On Saturday we had a deputation from Makongeneh, the stronghold of the runaway slaves. They much wanted Mzungu to come and live with them; but much as I sympathised with them I could give them no hopes until slavery was abolished, as it would be like going against the Sultan.

On Sunday morning, with George's help, I conducted the service, which, as the church would not hold us, we held outside at one end, the people sitting under two trees and I standing up to a little table, which I had helped a rough carpentering man to make, going into the jungle, felling a tree, and splitting a board out (my big axe does come in useful). The table will help fit up the new church. As it was, with a large handkerchief over it, and a piece of cloth over the end of the roof to keep the sun off, which was like a sounding-board, a tin box for a seat, George to my right on a log, and Abe Sidi to the left, we looked quite "churchy," and you should have heard us sing a new hymn and tune I taught the people in the week; they liked it so much that they kept on at that hymn all day. In the sermon from John xii. 32, I felt that our Heavenly Father helped me much to speak words that they could understand, and the Holy Spirit sent them home; at the conclusion many were the "naveranawe sanas" ("thank you very much "). I think all in the place were present, including Jeremiah's mother in her heathen dress; but I won her heart in telling her news of her son, who is studying with us at Frere Town, and going into her shamba and helping her plant her Indian corn. My little godson John was also there; he is a dear little chap, has such a nice mother. The poor woman was rather sad, for now Jeremiah and his good wife are away, she has not another real Christian companion of her own sex; but she would not have her back until she had learnt how to sew well and cut out, which Mrs. Handford is teaching her, for she cannot do the latter, and the women around wanted help. But I said, "You do help them a little." "Yes," she said, "it was nice to try and help others; it teaches you and makes your own heart light." Really I think halfa-dozen of these Godoma Christians are as nice a lot of people as I ever met anywhere.

[On the Monday morning Mr. Streeter started on his return journey, in the course of which he visited the original Christian settlement at Godoma.] We stayed at Godoma all Tuesday to cheer the brethren, and received many visitors. I told the Christians to bring their books and ask me anything they could not understand; one could not understand why Abimelech and Isaac's servants quarrelled over the wells; another, what the door in the parable of the Good Shepherd meant; another, what

Caiaphas meant when he said "it was expedient that one man should die for the people"; this led to some good lessons, to which there were many young listeners. Afterwards George and I partly taught them a hymn, and towards evening we walked over to another village to see the headman, for a slave of his at Fulladoyo begged of me to intercede for him. It was a sad story he told us; this very master had helped kill his brother for the sake of getting some of his property, and he had known five slaves killed, and told us their names. It is a bad practice they have in that country, they bind them tightly and bury alive. The result of our talk was that the master forgave the slave, and said that he had heard so much about "The Book" now that he thought he should soon join himself, then the slave would be free altogether. I told him how he would then be free also, and we had a long talk. At parting he gave us two fowls, which I did not want to take, but he would not be denied.

Next morning we were up before five, had a short service and address in their little church, and started on our now familiar road home, for our time was up, our bread was out, our sugar was out (no milk to be had there), and the water was not fit to wash dishes in, the latter rains not having reached there. On the way called at an old friend's, where I had slept the first time; they much wanted us to stay there again, but was obliged to decline, so he took us to his house, gave us buttermilk to drink, and butter to bring away, nearly all the village accompanying us a short distance, and on we went till 6.30, when we came to a good resting-place; was as fresh as possible, although had ridden one hour only all day, and we rested another hour. The owner here gave us plenty of fresh milk, which was a treat, but had difficulty to give us a house-only got a small hut in which some calves were; the men had to sleep outside. I was up by four, and out with my gun soon after, as I had knocked over a couple of large guinea fowl just on entering the village, and they said there were plenty about. After a long tramp in dewy grass I got a right and left, killing both to the surprise of the natives. Was back by 6.30, and after more delicious new milk had a little talk with the people, who were much interested with my picture book of beasts, and badly wanted us to stay all day; but after a few words, prayers, and hymn with the men we were "homeward bound," many from the village, with the elder, accompanied us to the brow of the hill, and watched us out of sight.

Soon after we came to the nasty muddy creek swamps; one is six or seven miles long and goes by the name of " Kimmaranganzi," which means before you get to the end you will close your mouth and say nothing, and so it proved; for it was between one and two o'clock and the sun tremendously hot, but the other end brought us to a sweet orange-tree and more daffo, where we refreshed ourselves, and an hour after we met Mr. Menzies on the look-out for us, and by five we were at home, when there was much firing and "thrilling" (women making a peculiar noise in their throat which sounds a long way off) for joy at our safe return. Found all well, and my boys had a good tea all ready, and it was nice to get to bed once more.

Altogether we had much to be thankful for; through a loving Father's mercy a clearer way had been made for us than could possibly have expected, and I hope soon to spend a few days amongst the people with whom we could not stay this time. Our big boys acquitted themselves well; I took half-a-dozen just to train them a bit for our longer journey to Teita that I was going to take, but by last mail's news this will have to be abandoned, to my great sorrow, for if the Society are not going to make fresh stations about here much of the labour and money that has been spent on these lads will be thrown away. I suppose it is want of funds kept them back, so hope every one that reads this letter will send up an extra half-sovereign to the C.M.S. this year, so that more may be done towards helping to carry out one of our Saviour's last commands.

I am glad to say we have had beautiful rains, and are for the first time reaping a good second harvest; this has helped settle our place, and we have had the best Christmas I have known here.

A MISSION IN ALGOMA.

ERY rarely do we notice in the GLEANER any other Missions than those of the C.M.S. Not for want of sympathy with others, but because the C.M.S. work is so vast and so varied, that our pages do not nearly suffice for more than a meagre account of even small portions of that. On the next page, however, will be found an engraving from some pen and ink sketches by the Rev. E. F. Wilson, son of the Vicar of Islington, who is carrying on a most excellent Mission on Lake Superior, in the diocese of Algoma, Canada West. This Mission was for a short time in connection with the C.M.S., ten years ago; but although its design is the evangelisation of a Red Indian tribe-the Chippewaysit is well within colonial limits, and far away from any other C.M.S. station, so that it was thought better that it should be worked independently. But all efforts for the Red Indians must appeal to the sympathies of the Society's friends, and therefore we make an exception in this case, and present Mr. Wilson's very graphic sketches of missionary life on the shores of Lake Superior.

OUR MISSION TO THE AFGHANS. The Rev. T. P. Hughes's Annual Letter.

T

ZEYDAH, EUSAFZAI, Dec. 5th, 1880. AM just now the guest of the leading chief of one of the most important sections of the Afghan people. My host is Ibrahim Khan of Zeydah, the grandson of Ursalla Khan (an Afghan chief who fled, and died in exile, when the British first occupied the Peshawar Valley). Ibrahim Khan's father came back and submitted to English rule, and his son is one of our most loyal Afghan chiefs. He lately served with credit as a political officer with General Bright's army, and has been presented by Lord Ripon with a khilat of fifty pounds at the great durbar at Lahore. Ibrahim Khan has been a true friend of mine for fifteen years, and for some years past I have been the guardian of his eldest son, Abdul Ghafur Khan, who is now an intelligent youth of sixteen years.

I am always welcome in Zeydah. There is a large and handsome bungalow in the centre of the village which the Khan

assures me he has built for my special use, and it would cheer the hearts of our Christian friends at home to see the copies of the Scriptures in Pushtu, Persian, Urdu, and Arabic which have been reverently placed by Muslim hands upon the shelves in the room in which I am now sitting. I have just said prayers, with an Afghan Christian who resides in this village, from an Urdu Book of Common Prayer which has been carefully preserved in this room for the last eight years by this Mohammedan chief.

My Afghan friend is no bigot, for about two hours ago we sat down a party of twelve to dinner, and our Christian Afghan brother, Shah Moneer, was invited by our host to form one of the party.

As one gets older one's joints become stiffer, and an Afghan dinner on the floor with one's legs tucked under one is rather a serious business! Our dinner consisted of the national dish of plau, or meat cooked in rice, fowl-curry, oat-cakes, and greens. I added to the meal a tin of Huntley and Palmer's gingerbread nuts, which were highly appreciated by several old Afghan chiefs present. After dinner green tea was passed round.

Our conversation, like our meal, was miscellaneous. The