as they told of their love for their church, one could hardly help thinking of the stories of the early Christians, when persecutions only increased their zeal. There was an undertone of sadness through the remarks of several, for they felt peculiarly uncertain as to what a day might bring forth. But one suddenly rose and changed the key. “I was sad,” he said, “when I first came in here, but your words of sadness have made me glad, for they have shown me how much we all love our church, and such love, with the love of God for us, which is even much greater, will carry us through fiery trials. I never felt as strong as I feel to-night. ’Tis true, I don’t know what may come upon us, but I do feel that the Lord will help us through.” Then he told what he hoped for the future, in such cheerful words, that as he sat down, they burst forth almost with one voice in a song of praise, and then one after another kneeled down, and in the most simple words of faith asked their Father to help His children in this their day of trouble, and I do not think there was one present who had the slightest doubt of His doing so. Even before the Kansas fever, there were States in the North that were synonyms for all good things to the colored people. I remember a Thanksgiving Day, when a minister was addressing one of the schools, and telling the children what they had to be thankful for, that he burst forth with the question, “Is there any other country so blessed as this?” “Yes, sir,” said a little urchin before him. “Why, what one?” “Massachusetts,” was the reply. I once heard a colored minister pray heartily for the teachers in this wise, “May God throw around this institution His _frosty_ arms, and bear the teachers from this to another vale of tears.” The good old days have gone; the better ones, _perhaps_, have come. * * * * * TENNESSEE. A Remarkable Conversion and Triumphant Death. MISS HENRIETTA MATSON, NASHVILLE. How often have God’s dealings with His children seemed strange and sad, when those who were just ready to do valiant service for Him, here amid the need of a lost world, are called up higher—called to rest, rather than toil—to wear the crown, rather than longer bear the cross. But God’s ways are not ours, and since we know that He ever cares for His own cause, we may believe that He calls the loved one to a higher usefulness. Such were some of the thoughts that came to our hearts when, on a beautiful June morning during the summer vacation, we read the words, “E. J. Park died yesterday afternoon,” followed by an account of the triumphant death of a student of Fisk University, who had gone to Texas to teach school.