words of counsel.’ _Fanàhy vàovào_ is a new spirit, which a Christian receives at conversion. _Tsàrafanàhy_ is a good spirit, hence _Lehilàhy tsàrafanàhy_ is a good man, lit. good-souled man. _Ràtsifanàhy_ is a bad spirit, hence wicked. [Illustration: THE AUTHOR TRAVELLING IN PALANQUIN. THE MANSE AT FÌHÀONANA.] The late J. Andrìanaivoràvèlona--the Spurgeon of Madagascar--was a member of the Bible Revision Committee for twelve years, and did more for the idiomatic tone of the new translation than all the others put together. He was not only the orator of the island, but was also a genius in his knowledge and use of the language, and a giant in physical strength. He came into the committee looking very tired and exhausted one morning. Our chief reviser said to him: ‘You look very tired and worn-out this morning, Andrianaivo--what’s the matter? what have you been doing?’ He answered: ‘I am tired; for I have not recovered from my Sabbath labours yet.’ He was asked what he had done on the Sabbath, when he replied that he had preached fourteen times! He had left the capital at five o’clock, had his first service at six, had food prepared for him at various centres, and continued services till seven o’clock at night--fourteen in all--little wonder if he was tired. I have heard all the great British preachers of the past forty years; and I would as soon have heard Andrianaivo as any of them. I have seen him keep an immense congregation spellbound for an hour and twenty minutes. When at his best, the force, fervour and enthusiasm of the man were magnificent, and carried all before them. On Thursday, July 30, 1885, Razàka, the pastor of our old station church at Fìhàonana, was called to his rest and his reward. Few men were ever more missed or more sincerely mourned than he was. He was the best and noblest Malagasy Christian pastor I ever knew, and one of the truest and most sincere men I ever met. ‘He was a faithful man, and feared God above many.’ He was loved and looked up to by his fellow countrymen in a way, and to an extent, I have never known in the case of other Malagasy pastors. A tall, handsome, noble-looking old man, he appeared like a king among men, with his ‘silvery locks waving in the breeze,’ in his case a veritable ‘crown of glory.’ You felt, when you met him, that he was no ordinary man. ‘Nature has written a letter of credit upon some men’s faces,’ says Thackeray, ‘which is honoured almost wherever presented.’ It was so with dear old Razàka, for it might almost have been said that ‘his face was his fortune’; for, although he had no ‘face like a benediction,’ yet honesty was so stamped upon its every feature that you had but to see it to feel that its owner was one of God’s noblest works--an honest man.