month of last year, and those of that month were greater, I believe, than any ever before recorded. The gain will not be so great in the future, but it will not cease because for a time the immigration ceases. Nothing can stop it but a stoppage of supplies. And of that—thank God that I may speak so confidently by faith in Him and in his people—of _that_ I have no fear. [Illustration: MISSIONARY CLASS IN CHINA.] AN INTERESTING SCENE. The last communion season in Bethany Church occurred August 6th. It was one of the few such seasons in which we have received no Chinese to membership. But when from two Christian Chinese families four children were presented for baptism, I felt with fresh joy and power that God’s seal of blessing was manifest upon our mission work. Two of the children were boys, sons of Jee Gam, our veteran helper, who made so many friends while on a visit eastward two years since. The other two were daughters of Chung Mon, one of the first group of Chinese whom it was my privilege to baptize—a staunch and steadfast believer, long president of our Christian Association. His wife is a faithful Christian, a member of the Methodist Church, and if you go into his home you will see, in the tenderness and affection with which the Christian father fondles his daughters, what Christ-life in a Chinese heart has done for budding womanhood. Sons could not have been welcomed more heartily or cared for more lovingly. Nothing there of that sentiment prevalent in all heathendom, illustrated in the story of “China Mary,” in our August MISSIONARY, that the birth of a daughter is a token of the anger of the gods. The wife of Jee Gam has been in California only about a year, the older son having been born in China. She does not yet call herself a Christian, but hopes to become one, she says—when she can learn a little more. Our brother looks on his two boys and tells the longing of his heart, by saying, “I hope they may both become missionaries in my native land.” But I am already encroaching on space that belongs to some other department of the one great work, and I will bid my eager pencil cease. * * * * * CHILDREN’S PAGE. * * * * * LETTER FROM AN AFRICAN BOY. ATLANTA UNIVERSITY, } ATLANTA, Ga., June 16th, 1882.}