well filled: and a large number of very respectably dressed men and women were present. The singing was rough: and a style of bass, which faintly resembles a bombardment, seemed very popular. We often heard this bombarding bass in outlying districts. Mr. Sewell of course conducted the service: and preached the gospel simply and to most attentive listeners in connection with the story of the raising of Lazarus. He also gave away many books in answer to earnest requests. I think there are no parts of our visit to Madagascar, from which my colleague and myself learned so much, as these visits to country stations. It was during our visit to the Mándridráno, that I received the impression, afterwards repeatedly confirmed, that one of the most beautiful things to be found in Madagascar is its grass. This grass covers many thousands of square miles. It is beautiful as it spreads abroad over the open plains, where it is short, compact and juicy; and supplies abundant nourishment to the great herds which the nobles of the land send to fatten upon what costs them nothing. It is beautiful in the sheltered valleys, where the soft, tender blades, enriched by the pearly dew and the gentle rain, are refreshing to the eye, and yield like velvet beneath the foot. It has a few wild flowers self sown among its roots: but has nothing of that profusion of colour and variety of form in its wild companions which render the flowering plants on the broad straths of Switzerland so brilliant to the eye, and such poor food to the cattle which consume them. But the grass of Madagascar is in its glory on the great hills. Burnt year after year by long sweeping fires, it springs up again with a profusion and a fulness which clasp huge rocks within its soft embrace. Here it is short but strong: there it rises in vast tufts, each of which contains many thousand blades and covers many feet of ground: and yet again it spreads over vast patches of country in thick, tall masses, which tower above men’s heads, open their tinted blades to the warm sun, and wave their myriads of golden feathers in the summer winds. And it is when we contemplate this rich but simple provision of the divine bounty, when we watch these masses of slender blades, each tuft a forest in itself, clothing with beauty what man has neglected, laying up store for man and beast, opening their golden hair to the dews by night and the warm winds by day, and joyously revelling in the life given them from above, that then we can, with Mr. Ruskin, appreciate and share the admiration and the praise given by the Psalmist to Him “who maketh the grass to grow upon the mountains.”