* * * * * AFRICA AT ATLANTA. In a private letter Mrs. Chase writes about a young man from the west coast of Africa as follows: I must tell you about Philip. We had very interesting meetings last week. Thursday the topic was for the church. Philip who had not had courage to speak in meetings before this year, got up and said he was ashamed of having been so afraid of being laughed at by the boys; he expected in a few years to teach about Jesus in his own country—and it is your country, too. He then went on with his intense earnestness and broken English to tell of his home—how dear it was to him and how dear his people were—how sad it was that they did not know about Jesus, till I do not think there was a dry eye in the room. The meeting the next night was a larger one, as we have no study hours Friday night. We saw the effect of Philip’s thrilling words. More than one referred to them. A young woman who decided to be a missionary to Africa last year, said every word Philip spoke seemed meant for her. “To think that boy, who was a heathen such a little while ago, could justly say such things to us with our privileges, made me feel condemned. I want to preach the gospel to the heathen. I pray that I may be fitted for the blessed work. I don’t want money, I don’t want fame, but I do want such a spirit that it shall be my meat and drink to do my Father’s will.” Philip’s Bible, which he brought with him, is very fine print, and has no references. He wanted a new one, so as he had earned some money in summer, one of the teachers purchased him one. He is so pleased with it he takes it to bed with him. One day he asked his teacher if he could not buy some silk to cover it with. When she suggested covering it with paper, he did not like it at all. I am so glad he is with us, he is a great power. * * * * * ONE DAY. BY MISS ADELE BREWER, RALEIGH, N.C. Would you like to spend Sunday with us among the colored people at the South? The bell for Sunday School sounded at nine o’clock. At three, we answered the call for church. We saluted the sexton, a pretty girl, who was ringing the bell as we entered. The neat little church still had its Christmas trimmings. We were delighted with everything, the earnest minister, the good organ, the well-trained choir. Every word of the responsive reading was so clearly enunciated that it was a pleasure to listen. The pastor’s wife came in with her manly son and her wee baby. That smallest auditor behaved well. The missionary was there with the orphan she is training. Notices for the week were given out—Lyceum, Church prayer meeting, and the Women’s prayer meeting.