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This it is that has for centuries shut out Central Africa from contact with the outside world. Had the Congo, like the Nile or Amazon, been navigable from its mouth, the terra incognita of which we are speaking might long ago have been as civilized as Egypt or

Brazil.

Now, at last, the gates are about to be unbarred. Stanley and his band are clearing the roadway which is to let in the tide of western civilization to the interior, and before many years are over we may hope that steamers will be passing and repassing between Stanley Pool, the first point on the Congo where its waters become navigable, and Nyanzwe, a distance of about 900 miles inland.

Nine hundred miles of clear waterway, from which branch off numerous tributary rivers, both to the north and to the south, themselves large streams watering tracts of country hundreds of miles in extent. What a vast region is here indicated!

At Stanley Falls, the farthest point of this nine hundred miles' voyage, steam transit will be arrested by another group of rapids; but beyond these, and for hundreds of miles farther inland, the river is again navigable, under the name of the Lualaba; and if in imagination we pass up its long reaches, we shall find ourselves nearing at last the mountain ranges that hem in Tanganyika. It is obvious, therefore, that if once the region lying between the Upper Congo and the Lake could be bridged over, Tanganyika, or rather the millions of inhabitants that throng its shores, would be in direct communication with the western coast, and commerce and Christianity might enter hand in hand.

The reader will now be in a position to judge how important a factor in the problem of Africa's future this question of Tanganyika's overflow represents. If such overflow should result in the formation of a navigable link between the Lualaba and the Lake, most important consequences must follow; especially as upon Lake Tanganyika a steamer will soon, probably, be placed, to which the gateway will be thus opened for an exploration of the adjacent districts.

Early in the present year news reached England from Ujiji that the "overflow" had already taken place, and the "Lukuga creek" become "a broad and rapid river," though its flow had not been traced beyond a certain distance, and its ultimate direction could not, of course, be laid down. Much interest was naturally excited by this intelligence; but later news received from Mr. Thomson, who succeeded Keith Johnstone as leader of the Royal Geographical Society's expedition, and who has himself visited and explored the "Lukuga," leads to the fear that its course is too much obstructed by rapids to render it available for purposes of navigation, though its junction with the Congo had been fully ascertained.

If, however, the hopes entertained with regard to throwing open the Tanganyika districts by this par

ticular route are not destined to be realized, two other lines of access seem likely soon to be made clear. Between the southern point of Tanganyika and the northern shores of Nyassa is a tract of country some 210 miles in length, and this tract has just been surveyed by the party alluded to above, sent out by our Royal Geographical Society, with a view to the laying down of roads connecting the two lakes. According to the report, no difficulties exist, either of an engineering or political nature, the country being level, and the natives friendly. When, therefore, the intended roads are constructed, the route from Tanganyika to the eastern coast, by Lake Nyassa and the rivers Shire and Zambesi, will be complete. It is further probable that a northern route connecting Tanganyika with the Albert Nyanza, and so with the Nile, may soon follow.

In February last, Mr. Robert Arthington, of Leeds, offered to the London Missionary Society a grant of £3000, for the purchase of a steamer to be placed on Tanganyika, with the express stipulation, among others, that it should "explore the country lying between the northern end of that lake and the Albert Nyanza, Mwata Nzigi, or other lakes, with a view to find, if possible, the best route from Tanganyika to the Nile, and, with that, to bring the populations of the region under the influence of Christian teaching." This offer was accepted, and in a few months Mr. Hore, one of the Society's Missionaries at Ujiji, is expected to visit England for the purpose of purchasing and transporting the steamer, the means for which have been so generously placed at their disposal.

Nearly three years must now have elapsed since an invitation reached us to attend a farewell meeting at a Missionary College in the East of London, Mr. H. Grattan Guinness' "Training Institute," Harley House, Bow. Several of the students were about leaving England to join the "advance guard" of the Church's army on the Mission fields abroad. These young recruits were soon to be scattered to all points of the compass; and this evening's social gathering might be their last opportunity, for years, of united communion with each other and with Christian friends.

One, we remember, was bound for Kaffraria, where he has since done good service among the Zulus and other Kaffir tribes; two others, a fairhaired Swede, and a grave young Spaniard, had thrown in their lots together, and were departing to evangelize in the North-West provinces of Spain. Another, and he is the only one with whom at present we have any concern, was a young sailor of about twenty-seven, who had volunteered for the post of danger, and enrolled himself among the pioneer band then starting for Zanzibar, with the hope of making their way westward through seven hundred miles of tropical country to Lake Tanganyika, where they would

found, God helping them, a Mission station, and plant the banner of the cross on the uplands of Central Africa.

This young sailor's name we learnt was Hore. He had been mate on board a merchant vessel, and, judging by his quiet manliness of bearing, and the steadfast purpose and good sense that marked his few words of farewell, was well fitted for the dangerous post assigned him. The expedition was to consist of four besides himself, under the leadership of the Rev. J. B. Thomson, of the London Missionary Society.

And here it may be as well to remind our readers, in passing, of the position taken up by our three great Missionary bodies, with regard to Central African work. Livingstone's countrymen, as was fitting, were first on the field, the Scotch Presbyterian Mission having selected Nyassa as their headquarters, and founded on its shores the flourishing station of Livingstonia. The Church Missionary Society followed next, establishing their centre on the banks of Victoria Nyanza. And, last of the three, we notice the London Missionary Society, led by the generous grant already mentioned from Mr. Arthington, to fit out an expedition to Tanganyika.

It is the history of this pioneer Mission that we wish to bring before our readers.

We must transport ourselves in fancy to the coast of Zanzibar, where the little band of missionaries, to which Mr. Hore belonged, arrived early in 1878. Their patience was sorely put to the test in the Coast region, by a detention of many months, while the laborious experiment was being tried of introducing

bullock-waggons as a means of transport. It was all in vain. The fatal tsetse-fly fairly defeated them, and they were obliged at last to resort to the old method of native carriers.

Two hundred of these were engaged, and on the 12th of June, Mr. Thomson, Mr. Hore, and Mr. Hutley started from Kiraso, near Mpwapa, on their perilous journey inland. Already their little party was reduced to three in number; sickness having obliged its other members to relinquish their share in the expedition.

They marched sometimes ten, sometimes twelve, or sixteen miles a day, passed safely the dreaded country of Ugogo, escaping the payment of "black mail," by presenting Mr. Hore's "Good Templar's " badge to the chief's wife as a decoration! Then came a plunge into the vast forest region of Unyanyembe where they marched for twenty-two days through unbroken jungle-the home of the lion, elephant, and rhinoceros, whose footmarks "were as common as hoofmarks on a country road!" This region is ruled over by a certain king Mirambo, of whom we shall hear more further on. After many perils and hardships, the missionary party at last reached Ujiji on the eastern banks of Tanganyika, on the 23rd of August, and secured a tolerably safe dwelling from one of the Arab traders settled there. But sad to say, before a month had elapsed, the Rev. J. B. Thomson was carried off by fever, and the two young men were left alone to cope with difficulties and dangers as best they might. M. F. G. (To be continued.)

MOR

July, 1880.

ORE than a year has elapsed since Bishop Gobat, the founder of this institution, entered into his rest; but the mercy of the Lord has been renewed to us every morning, although we passed, as it were, through deep waters. Throughout the country misery and destitution, in consequence of the failing crops last summer, were general. During the winter much snow and severe cold increased the troubles of the poor, and many cases of starvation occurred; in one village three cases came to my knowledge. Many people were in a piteous condition, without bread, warm clothing, or fuel. All over Judea the fig-trees were destroyed by the cold. Even the hardy olive-trees were frozen and their branches broken by the weight of the snow. Numbers of beggars came to Jerusalem to sustain life; and to

many a child who would gladly have entered our school, we were at least able to give bread. Some children had to be admitted in spite of our want of room, as, for instance, a boy from Alexandria, the son of a Moslem convert. The great contrast between the misery in the villages and the active, happy, contented life of the children in our school was very striking, and could not fail to make an impression for good upon them. It is a great encouragement to us to see the changes which are gradually wrought in many a heart by the grace of God. Many of the boys have come out of a state of great destitution and depravity; their hearts were hardened and their faculties stunted by misery and cruelty. To work on such soil requires faith and patience. But under the influence of Christian love the soul is quickened and renewed, bad habits are overcome, the confidence of the children is gained by

the masters; habits of cleanliness, truthfulness, and obedience are established, and happiness is the result. No day-school could possibly obtain these results, and we may be sure that the seeds sown here will spring up in due season and bring forth fruit.

There are now sixty-two boys in our institution. The different branches taught are: Reading, writing, spelling, Scripture history, the Catechism, arithmetic, grammar, and singing. Instruction in these subjects is given both in Arabic and English. General history, natural history, botany, and mechanics are taught in English; and the advanced class has also lessons in German and French. Five of our pupils have been promoted to the preparandi class, and are preparing for mission work as evangelists and school-masters. Out of school-hours the children are employed in household work; some are initiated in trades, as shoemaking, tailoring, carpentry, and bookbinding, and others are employed at the printing-press of the Mission. Work in the garden attached to the house, and bodily exercise develop the physical strength of the children. The state of health has, thank God, been excellent, without exception, during the course of the year, in spite of the severe cold last winter and the trying heat this summer.

Our boarders come from all parts of Palestine, and occasionally from Egypt and Abyssinia, and belong to the different creeds and religious persuasions prevailing in the East. We have Mohammedans, Greeks, Armenians, Copts, Latins, Abyssinians, and native Protestants; yet they all form one happy family, in one happy home. These differences cause us no permanent trouble. The love of Christ is known by us to be the only means of effectually regenerating the human heart, and is recognized as the best means for education. The experience of this love is a bond of union among all the inmates of our house. The power of this love alone can bring peace to the East, rent asunder for centuries past by the burning jealousies of rival creeds and nationalities. It is the balm of Gilead which alone can heal the wounds of Immanuel's land. A Moslem boy on entering the school, and for the first time in his life coming in contact with Christian children, exclaimed on the common playground: "Now I will prove to you, infidel dogs, by the power of my fist, the superiority of Mohammed over Christ." This boy now bows his knee with us before Jesus, and is one of the most promising of our boarders. Instances of this kind could easily be multiplied. A few years ago, a Moslem boy, an orphan

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of about eleven, came to the school; but order and obedience seemed to him so strange that he several times ran away; until the Word of God became rooted in his heart, and he began to love Jesus. This boy has made so much progress that we have been able to receive him in the preparandi school. A Moslem boy from the village of A- who had learnt to love the Lord at the school, died believing in Christ. His peaceful end made such an impression on his relatives, that they at once brought us two other boys of their family, and these are now very happy at the orphanage.

A year ago a Greek of a good family begged me on his death-bed to take charge of his little boy, so that he might be sure to meet him in heaven. It is a real pleasure to us to have this bright intelligent boy; his mother very much wishes to give us her second boy also. One of our former pupils, an orphan from Asia Minor, showed so much ability that he was able to study theology in England, and is now a clergyman in Cyprus.

It cannot be denied that in general the germs of progress in the East do not lie with the Moslems, but in the Christian populations; but our experience shows that Moslem boys, when removed from home influences, are quite as eager to learn as Christian children, and are often more obedient and grateful than they.

Above the laws and rules of the school, however much we need and value them, the influence of love must be felt. Many of our former pupils, though afterwards ensnared by the temptations of the world, have recognized its power in spite of themselves. This love was one of the principal features in the character of Bishop Gobat, the founder of this institution.

For thirty years the directors and masters of the school have been sustained in their arduous task by the blessed influence of this love, and they will remain faithful to this principle to the end.

We would now ask all those who pray for the peace of Jerusalem, and have themselves experienced in their hearts the love of Jesus Christ, to assist us by their sympathy and prayer, and not to allow the Memorial School of Bishop Gobat to be crippled, or the number of our boarders to be reduced through want of funds.

Contributions towards the orphanage are received in Jerusalem by John Zeller, Missionary of the Church Mission Society in charge of Bishop Gobat's Orphanage.

"THERE is a great want about all Christians who have not suffered. Some flowers must be broken or bruised before they emit any fragrance."-McCheyne.

"THERE never was, and never will be, a believing prayer left unanswered.”—McCheyne.

"Go on in the strength of the Lord, and put Christ's love to the trial, and put upon it burdens, and then it will appear love indeed. We employ not His love, and therefore we know it not. "" (John vii. 17).—Rutherford.

past ten, as we cross Newington Green Road, enter the Deaconess House gates, and pass into the gravelled space in front of the building.

How quiet it all seems! There is no sound of life in the great house that faces us, with its long lines of windows, cheerful with green Venetian blinds and white curtains; and the blocks of buildings on either side of the yard are equally silent. A Sabbath stillness broods over the place, in strange contrast with the bustle that prevails there at Conference times, or even with its week-day aspect of busy activity. What can all its inmates be doing?

Here a glance at the hall-door opposite reminds us that the stillness will soon be broken. A few minutes later, and a long file of Deaconesses will be issuing forth on their way to church, while the children from yonder Orphanage, in their scarlet cloaks and white hats, will be mustering on the very spot where we now stand.

The thought has scarcely passed through our mind, when a door opens suddenly to the left, and a stream of well-dressed men emerge from the ladies' waiting-room, amongst whom we recognize the familiar face of Mr. Gawin Kirkham, Secretary of the "Openair Mission." It is easy to guess who his companions are. No doubt they are the band of singers connected with the Mission, of whom we have so often heard. But we shall learn this from the leader.

"We are starting on our morning rounds," explains Mr. Kirkham, after a few words of friendly greeting; "going to 'sing the Gospel' in the streets and lanes around here. Our morning Bible-class is just over; but you will find the friend who conducts it in yonder," pointing to the open door of the waiting-room, "he will give you all the information you need." And with a cheery "Come!" to his companions, Mr. Kirkham disappears.

We turn into the ladies' waiting-room, as directed. Close to the entrance a board is fastened, with this notice: "Service for the deaf and dumb held here at II a.m. every Sunday." We are just in time then for the morning service, and there is Mr. Badenoch arranging chairs for the expected worshippers. In the interval, before they arrive, we learn something of the Bible-class that has just dispersed.

"Are all who attend it Christian workers ?" we ask.

"Yes; each of our members is supposed to be working for the Lord in some way," replies Mr. Badenoch. "To-day many are absent, engaged in service of one kind or another, some preaching in the open air, others teaching in Sunday-schools. A few have taken up house-to-house visitation, and to each of these I assign a certain district, supplying them, of course, with suitable tracts and papers."

Just at this point the door opens, and a bright, ruddyfaced boy enters, apparently about twelve or thirteen. "Surely he cannot be deaf and dumb,” we say to ourselves; "there is no sign about him of such an affliction." But yes; his greeting is all in dumb show, and he passes to his seat without a word. Then follows a tall youth of nineteen or twenty, respectably dressed -perhaps a clerk in some office-who shakes hands with a frank, pleasant smile, and looks so full of observant intelligence, that we can scarcely realize his silence to be other than voluntary. The next comer is of quite a different type-poor, rough, and illdressed, with a look of repression, harsh features, and a furtive yet dull expression. Poor man, has he met with rough treatment in life? and how does he earn his livelihood?

The three are already carrying on a brisk talk in their own language, aided, on the part of the last comer, by strange guttural sounds. A sign language it is, but not confined to the "manual" ones we have learned. The whole body seems to speak. Notice the play of facial expression, and the gestures of all kinds which are called into use, some so unmistakable as to need no interpreter. That poor man, for instance, is telling his companions how ill he has lately been. Meantime, others are entering: that young man in the grey suit is evidently a gentleman; the rest appear to be respectable mechanics or trades

men.

Are any of these poor fellows married?" we ask. “Oh, yes,” replies Mr. B., "and have deaf and dumb wives, and children too! They do not all live in this neighbourhood. One comes from Brompton, another from Victoria Park; others, again, from Clapton or Caledonian Road, Hackney or Dalston. The meeting was originally set on foot by Captain Moreton, who took a warm interest in the deaf and dumb, and acquired their language sufficiently to hold fluent intercourse with them. They were warmly attached to him, as you may suppose. He always contrived, at the evening services in the large Hall, to have an interpreter on the platform, who could translate the addresses and prayers to any of his deaf and dumb friends in the audience. But here is Mr. Gilby, the minister for whom we have been waiting."

After a courteous greeting from Mr. Gilby, a middleaged man of sensible and thoughtful aspect, afflicted, however, in the same way as his companions, we take our seats in the background, and the meeting commences with prayer. Look round on the earnest expressive faces, each following with watchful eyes the motions of their leader. He is praying with his hands; and a low, murmuring sound, as of earnest pleading, accompanies the action, as he now raises his face and arms heavenward, and now bows his head on his breast in humiliation and confession. It is a touching scene, more so than we could have supposed; and as we look on in silent sympathy, there comes a sweet remembrance of the words, "God is a Spirit." Yes, the creating Spirit can surely reach, through all obstacles, these spirits whom He has made. To Him those dumb signs are as eloquent as the most fervid speech could be, and no bolts or bars of fleshly infirmity can separate them from Him.

At the conclusion of the prayer, open Bibles are handed round amongst the congregation, and a messenger is sent round to point out to us the chapter about to be read, 1 Sam. xvi.; and afterwards the text selected by the preacher, "Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh upon the heart." The address that follows is, of course, unintelligible to us, but none the less do we feel, as we leave the building some time after, and cross over to a friend's house in Mildmay Park, where lunch is awaiting us, that the morning has been profitably spent, and a lesson learnt which may be-and we hope will be-of life-long benefit. Never again surely can we forget to pray for the deaf and dumb!

"It has struck half-past two," says our hostess, entering the room after lunch, "it is about time you were starting; for those men who are hurrying towards the Hall, must be members of Mrs. Pennefather's Bible Class." Hastily putting on our things, and saying good-bye, we cross over the road accompanied by a friend who knows less even than ourselves what "A Sunday in the Conference Hall" implies: and in a couple of minutes find ourselves again at the corner of the street leading to the Deaconess House. "Why, there is another meeting going on in the Ladies' Waiting Room!" says our friend; "certainly that room is doing good service to-day!" and she points to a board, which has replaced that of the morning, and bears the inscription, " Kingsland Young Men's Christian Institute." Some one is entering as we pass, but we have too much else on hand this afternoon to allow of our losing time in inquiries, and turn accordingly to mount the steps to the Hall door.

Ah! there are the orphans just starting for St. Jude's Sunday School, in charge of one of the Deaconesses. The little scarlet-cloaked figures look picturesque, do they not? They do not reside on the premises, at

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least not exactly. The Orphanage faces Newington Green, but you can see the back of it from where we stand, that old red brick house whose garden stretches down to the back of the waiting-room. But here comes our cicerone, and yonder, if I mistake not, is Mr. Mathieson setting out for his afternoon Bible class, at Clapton School.

"Is that another branch of Mildmay work?" asks our companion.

"Yes; it was founded many years ago, chiefly for the daughters of missionaries and ministers; and at present contains about eighty girls. The former superintendent of the Hall, Captain Moreton, for years took charge of the weekly Bible class, and was much beloved by the girls, but Mr. Mathieson has now taken his place."

Here our attention is claimed by Miss E——, the Deaconess friend who has agreed to act as guide, and we pass at once into the lobby of the Deaconess House, past "No. 6," and down a stone staircase, to the regions below. The door at the foot of the staircase divides the "basement" floor of the Deaconess House, from the "basement" of the Hall. The rooms on this side of it are all private, except one, the Servants' Registry, and all, with that exception, are used for domestic purposes. Now open the door. We have passed to the other side of the dividing wall, and as we close it behind us, are standing underneath the great Hall.

A few feet more to the right! Now you are exactly under the Speaker's platform, and this long corridor in front of us, corresponds to the central aisle of the upper building. The large room at its further end where those men are entering, is called No. 4, and extends from side to side of the basement, and it is there I must first take you. These other rooms to the right and left we can look into afterwards, for the classes generally do not commence till half past three, the time of the afternoon service in the Hall. If you happen to be standing in this corridor at the right moment, that is, when the opening hymns are struck up in the various rooms simultaneously, or nearly so, you will gain a new idea of the possibilities of discord!

"But surely," remarks our friend, "the different classes must be conscious of it too! Do they not interfere with one another?"

"Oh! no; each room is too much occupied with its own share in the performance, to pay much heed to the rest, though the effect to an outsider is somewhat comic. But now let me introduce you to No. 4, where the men of the Bible class are taking a lesson in hymn singing, from Miss C, the Lady Superintendent of the Deaconess House. M. F. G.

(To be continued.)