Now we will untie our Calendars, and turn them over for the last half of the year. Half the year gone! Its successes and failures, blessings and trials, in the irrevocable past. We cannot change the record, but we still have a half year before us to fill up that which is behind, and press forward toward the mark.

OUR Morning Star is one of a company of twenty-seven vessels engaged in missionary work in various parts of the world. Six of them are employed in the Pacific Ocean and South Seas, and sixteen are used in Africa on the lakes and rivers, or along the coast.

NATIVE food on Kusaie has been scarce since the hurricane; little or none could be obtained, and the children have suffered for the want of it. The foreign food does not agree with them, and there has been some sickness in the school. When the summons came for four of them to come up higher, it was touching to see their willingness to obey, showing a work of the Holy Spirit in their hearts. Saddened hearts grieved for the loss of these loved ones, but there is comfort in the assurance that they are "safe in the arms of Jesus."

BUDDHISM and Hinduism, with all their claims to learning and their lofty ideals, after forty centuries of effort leave the people in wretchedness, ignorance, and degrading poverty. Only one man in 42, and one woman in 856, in all India can read. The average annual income of the individual is only $13.50 against $200 for every man, woman, and child in America.

In the Samoa Islands there are thirty thousand people, and it is said that on the largest of the group there are not fifty households who do not have family worship. We think it would not be difficult to find many churches in this country in which there were more than fifty families where this observance is wanting.

Ir is a significant fact that of the 175,000,000 of Mohammedans in the world, about 100,000,000 are under the control of Christian rulers, and it is thought that the other 75,000,000 will, ere long, be brought under Christian governments.

A HINDU was asked by a lady missionary if there was anything on which the different sects of the Hindus agreed, and he replied, "Yes; we all believe in the sanctity of the cow and the depravity of woman.”—Ex.

MISS BIGELOW, who, with Miss Stillson, arrived at their station in Umzumbe about the first of January, writes as follows of her arrival: "Here I am at Mr. Wilder's pleasant home, after a most charming ride in royal state from Umzinto-four oxen and chariot, with outrider and footman,

We

if we please to call them so-just for Miss Stillson and myself. received a facetious letter from one of the missionaries, in which he said he had sent his wheelbarrow' for us. It was a little covered cart, and so near the ground it was very easy to step into it. We went through several rivers without getting wet, and it seemed very nicely planned for such emergencies. I never enjoyed a ride much more than that, through winding, shady roads up and down among the hills-little hills, big hills, pointed and round hills, hills rolling into each other, and over and around each other in great profusion. There are also verdure-clad valleys and azure skies. . .

"A long time before we arrived we could see the houses in the distance, and presently we saw two gentlemen on horseback coming over the brow of the hill to meet us. They dismounted to greet us, and then led the way till we came to a procession of children drawn up in two lines on each side of the path; one of them was Yona's little girl Amy. An older girl who had assisted Miss Bridgman in the kindergarten was with them, and they were singing a welcome. They seem to sing as naturally as they breathe. We stopped and spoke to them, and as we went on they came dancing along, singing something in Zulu to the tune of John Brown.' Then they sang a pretty little kindergarten song in English,-pronouncing the words very distinctly- Onward, Christian Soldiers,' and other songs. Mrs. Bridgman and Mrs. Bunker were waiting to receive us, and after dinner we went around the premises. We are told that this is by far the prettiest station in the mission. On one side we can look down three hundred feet to the river, and there is a fine mountain view in front."

AFRICA.

UMCITWA AND YONA.

BY MRS. AMY BRIDGMAN COWLES.

(Concluded from the June Number.)

IMMEDIATELY Umcitwa set about the building of his little cottage, in the meantime living with Mr. Eliot, their missionary. To the people he talked and preached; and though daily burning with fever, and wearing out with his cough, still his heart was undaunted. On he worked till at last the little cottage was completed, and "home, sweet home" was theirs once more. "Six months of toilsome journeying with pain and hardships innumerable, and, again, six months of weary struggling with disease among the dark people to whom our evangelists so much desired to give the Light of Life. This is the epitome of our story," writes their missionary. Scarcely had they entered their house before disease gained the mastery, and laid Umeitwa

low. One Sunday he preached to the people; the next found him an angel in heaven. One day in his sweet earthly home; the next tasting the joys of the eternal. Throughout his sickness not a murmur was heard to pass his lips. Patiently, gently he bore all for Jesus' sake. "He was truly devoted to his work," writes Mr. Eliot. "He once made the gift down there in Natal, and never once in word or deed showed any desire to draw back." But the sacrifice was a daily one. Once after expressing tenderest affection for the friends left behind, and for Amy, he wrote: "We weep as we think of her; but he that forsaketh not all that he hath for Christ's sake, cannot be his disciple." "Though I may be killed, I will never cease to preach Jesus Christ," was his declaration to a group of dark, cruel Matabele. And now the little home which Umeitwa built with his very life, is used for chapel and schoolhouse for those same people. There it stands to-day,—a lighthouse in darkness, telling of Jesus' love, and reminding of one who died for the truth he came to preach. Could granite column or marble block furnish memorial half so fitting as this?

Yona, bereft, with heart crushed and bleeding, went now to live with Mr. and Mrs. Eliot. In the smiles of her babe she tried to find balm for her sorrows. Close to her breast she folded her darling, but even the strength of a mother's love was not sufficient proof against attacks of the fever. Anguish was added to anguish as day by day the little form wasted away, and at last, only two weeks from the time the father died, little Elie joined him in heaven. Two graves, and little Amy far away, now Yona's earthly all. Who can measure her grief, wholly bereft, far away from home and friends? Speaking of it months afterward, Yona tells how all alone she went to the little home now so deserted. She entered, closed the door, threw herself on her mat on the floor, and there, where no human ear was near to hear, she gave way to her grief. For hours she lay there sobbing and praying. She called her husband by name, and she called to God. Falling asleep, at last, she awoke to find herself reaching out her arms in vain for her babe; then only to give way again to fresh bursts of grief. But into that lonely room the dear Saviour came. Touching the stricken daughter, he bade her be of "good cheer." Filled with holy peace, Yona rose triumphant.

It seemed best to all her friends now that Yona should return to Umzumbe and to Amy. Happy in the thought, and longing for her child and friends, still she adds, "I do not wish to go home to please myself, but pray that if I should go to be made useful to others." At last, after many months of waiting, through the exceeding kindness of Rev. John Moffat (son of Robert Moffat), she was helped through the long, long journey. Once more the

fifteen hundred miles were behind her, and this time sweet Umzumbe was reached. Great was the joy upon that occasion. Little Amy, dressed in her best, and in all the glory of a new apron, went with her precious white "mamma" to meet " dear mamma Yona," about whom she had been told so much. Impatient at the slow progress of the ox cart in which she was traveling, Yona had alighted and run ahead. Only a few steps, and Amy was in her arms. Down in the grass by the roadside the mother threw herself; tears flooded her cheeks, but joy thrilled her soul as her darling was folded once more "hard to her heart." Truly has this home-coming been likened to that of Naomi; for "it came to pass when she was come to Umzumbe, that all the city was moved about her, and said, 'Is this Yona?' She went out full, and the Lord hath brought her home again empty.” Yes, empty indeed of worldly possessions; but in her face there shone a light which told of great treasure in heaven. The two years of greatest loss had been rich in greatest spiritual gain, in growth of Christian faith, hope, and love. Through every feature of the face there shone the radiancy of the soul, softening every line of sorrow, beautifying with sweetest peacefulness the whole expression.

With open arms Yona was welcomed into the home of the missionary. Here for awhile she rested, and found sweetest pastime in watching Amy at play,-listening to her endless chatter in Zulu and English, and being delightfully surprised to hear her little three-year-old singing no end of sweetest hymns, and reciting passage after passage of Scripture, and all in English. Mother love soon won the heart of her child into 'hearty response and full confidence. In teaching the station school of fifty children, and finally in the Umzumbe Home, Yona found her sphere of labor. In the church and Sunday school she was also most zealous. Everywhere her services were invaluable, and her example and influence for good immeasurable. Possessed of a most delicate sense of perception, she rarely failed in fineness of discernment. Modesty was one of her crowning virtues. In dress the subdued colors were her favorites, and the harmony of her attire was in marked contrast to the gaudy clashing of color so dear to most of the women. But best of all was the sweet Christian faith which filled Yona's soul. Missing her husband constantly, her thoughts dwelt much in heaven. It was the hope of her life that the Lord would lead her to go again to the tribes of the interior, should the American missionaries start work there.

Once in a long attack of typhoid fever a season of delirium showed the bent of her mind. "For forty-eight hours," writes her missionary, "she seemed to have forsaken the earthly, and to be dwelling in heaven, in the very presence of the King. She was enraptured with the thought that