On Sunday we had the pleasure of worshipping with the Queen in the camp. From the royal platform the sight of the vast congregation was very striking. There were eight thousand persons present, of whom the inner and larger portion were seated on the ground. Beneath the platform, and just in front of the Queen, were several rows of women who formed the choir. Beyond them in the centre were the women and ladies of the general congregation. The men were on the right. And a broad circle of men behind both closed them all in. The dress of all was exceedingly neat and clean. The men wore the large straw hat, usual to the Hovas, with its black velvet band. The lambas both of men and women were to a large extent white; but many were striped with black; many were blue, others of a check pattern; and a great number were stamped with pink flowers. Exposed to the sun, the men kept their hats on, and when he shone forth brightly, an army of umbrellas was put up, dark and light blue, brown and white, to temper the heated rays. Over all was a sky of pale blue, flecked with clouds driven rapidly by the strong south-east winds. The platform was crowded with the ladies and officers of the Court, conspicuous amongst whom, and seated close to the Queen, was Hióvana, the governor of the Tanála tribes. Most were on the ground; the few chairs had been brought by their occupants and were of various shapes and sizes. The Queen was simply dressed in a white lamba, and had a large Bible on her knee; the scarlet umbrella was held above her head. The service was after the Congregational and Presbyterian order, and was conducted by the native ministers, with as much propriety as such services are among the oldest Churches in England. The service was opened by an Anthem, in which the ninety-first Psalm was sung through, the band accompanying in a most appropriate manner. The Scriptures were then read and prayer offered. Again chapter iii. of Lamentations was sung very sweetly; and the first sermon followed from the text: “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” The favourite hymn of the Malagasy, No. 46, was next given out, and was sung by the entire congregation with great spirit: the Scriptures were again read and prayer offered. There was another hymn from the Pilgrim’s Progress, a favourite also; and then Andriambélo preached from the text: “How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation?” The usual dismissal hymn was sung and the blessing pronounced; and the vast congregation dispersed. The general comment on the sermons was, “Rainitávy’s sermon was the more clever; but Andriambélo respect and love most; and we listen to what he says.” I never attended a more interesting native service at any mission I have visited.