One day I visited a town in which twenty-two persons, five men and seventeen women, stood up in a line in the street, and delivering up all their fetishes, renounced them, and said that they would follow Christ and worship only the true God. This was the first large group of Christians in one town, and when a church was afterwards organized I gave it the name of that town, _Ayol_, which is still the name of the Fang church. The Ayol Church belongs to Corisco Presbytery, and to the Synod of New Jersey. In a few months there were a hundred Christians, and at the end of a year, two hundred, scattered over the large Fang field in groups of six, eight, or ten persons in a town. They had all discarded their fetishes, and they were meeting together every evening to sing and pray in the hearing of all the people. The fact that those Christians were not in a single community, but scattered over extensive territory and in widely separated towns, greatly enlarged the outlook for the future. In a single community, it sometimes happens that when a few persons of influence and decision become Christians they make Christianity popular, and the thoughtless crowd follow their lead, but never exhibit a strong type of Christian character. And this suggests another objection to the small, undermanned station. Its work is usually restricted to the vicinity of its location, where the tremendous prestige of the white man makes Christianity dangerously popular, and where the Christians are near enough to the missionary to lean upon him for spiritual support, and perhaps for worldly support also if they are very poor. But these small groups of Fang Christians, scattered in towns far apart, were leaders, not followers, of others. They became Christians when Christianity was not popular, and had no artificial prestige. They were far enough away from the mission for wholesome independence, and near enough for the help which they really needed. They also had a field of opportunity immediately around them, and the whole number brought into contact with the Gospel was very great. These Christians in saluting each other invariably use the term, “Brother,” though they may belong to hostile and warring clans, and before they became Christians might not have been able to pass each other without fighting. And, strange enough, I did not teach them this salutation; for I never used it myself until they established it. Flesh and blood did not reveal it to them, but the Spirit of God; for where Christ is, there is the instinct of brotherhood. The number of Christians gives no idea whatever of the whole effect of Christian influence. Between African heathenism and Christian faith there is an immense interval; and multitudes, while not professing to be Christians, were yet far removed from their former heathenism. Old beliefs were all unfixed, with a corresponding change in morals. Cannibalism almost ceases at the first sound of the Gospel, and wars become less frequent.