flowing. The hours for beginning the meetings were very early-9 or even 8 A.M. One morning my host did not appear at our usual breakfast-hour of a quarter past 7, because he was at a conference of those connected with a missionary society which began at 6 A.M.!

Every evening, some friend of missions opened his or her garden for an open-air assembly. There simple refreshments were provided for all who chose to take them; and then, under some large tree, mounted on a table, clergymen and laymen gave addresses to those who crowded round to listen. Generally there were addresses in French and German going on at the same time in different parts of the garden; while many meantime walked about, or sat enjoying the society of friends from a distance. One old lady, over eighty, and living quite alone, would not allow either age or infirmities to prevent her from entertaining the friends of the Lord, whom she loved and desired to serve in his people.

The culminating point of all was Thursday, July 4th, when, in the beautiful münster, ten young men, trained in the Basle Mission House, were set apart for work in distant mission-fields. I had so often found that nothing but standing-room remained when I went half an hour before the meetings began, that I took care to be at the cathedral door before it was opened. But even in that way, by the time I got in amid the waiting crowd every seat in the nave was full. The chancel end of the building is raised above the nave some twelve or fifteen feet. On each side of the communion-table, a broad set of steps leads up to this raised chancel. These steps were all quickly occupied; and I was happy enough to get a place there, and congratulated myself on having been unable to get a seat below, for from my elevated position I could both see and hear all that passed much better than if I had been in the pews below. Most of those around me were peasants, or of the lower classes in Basle. I found all most polite and obliging. My bad German no doubt at once betrayed my being a foreigner, and perhaps made them more anxious to be kind to me. During the long time I had to wait before the service began, I feasted my eyes on the scene before me.

The whole body of the large building lay before me, every seat full, every aisle and open place crammed with people either standing or sitting on camp-stools or even chairs, which they had brought with them. The glare of the brilliant sunshine was softened by the beautiful painted windows, and fell in streams of coloured light on the quaint costumes of the peasants, and white caps of the deaconesses, sprinkled among the more commonplace dresses. The organ-gallery, above the west door, was filled by the mission students. Many who could not even find standing room below, or in the chancel, mounted to the clerestory-gallery, which goes quite round the münster, and looked down patiently during the many hours that the service lasted, though, I am sure, they could not hear much.

It was a grand sight to see so many gathered to see men set apart for God's work, and to pray for a blessing

on their labours; and while remembering the many great men who have occupied the pulpit of that münster from Oecolampadius downwards, one could feel that the purpose for which we were now gathered, was not unworthy of the memories that linger round the old building.

During the service several hymns were well sung by the mission students. One was very touching, being a farewell to their brethren who were going forth to the work for which they themselves were training. All could listen intelligently to their singing, for every one had received a paper at the door containing the different hymns that were to be sung. But excellent as was the singing of the students, it was not half so impressive to me as the full swell of melody which rose from the vast multitude, when they sang well-known hymns to their own tunes, with which all were acquainted. It took me back by its full deep sound to the Rhine falls, where I had been only a few days before, and where, while sitting for hours watching the rushing waters, and listening to their mighty voice, I seemed to hear the words of Scripture, "I heard, as it were, the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia; for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth."

After the first hymn, the Director of the Mission Institute gave an excellent address both to the congregation and the young men to be set apart, also some details of their fields of work. Christ, his work, his will, his strength to work and live in, took their fitting place in all that was said, along with earnest admonitions to more prayer for outpouring of the Spirit. The state of the mission funds was, of course, taken into account; and I was sorry to hear that the debt which has held them down for some years had not yet been cleared off, as they had hoped. It would indeed be a pity if a society which sends out such devoted men should have to circumscribe its work for want of means. The Director had himself been at one time engaged in mission work abroad, so could the better deal with the subject. Another clergyman, an able and earnest man, followed; then two of the young men gave short addresses. It must have been a very trying thing for them thus to appear in the pulpit before such a multitude, but they acquitted themselves well. There was no attempt at learned disquisitions or fine oratory, but each told simply how he had been led to devote himself to the work of the Lord; and in both cases the example and precept of godly parents had been made a blessing to their sons. Their spirit of self-distrust and humble reliance on the Lord's help gave one great hope that their work would be blessed. Throughout the addresses one thing especially pleased me, and that was the real way in which things were looked at and stated. There was no throwing a veil of romance over mission work. It was plainly set forth as an arduous, trying work, and one in which there might probably be much weariness, and much suffering and danger, to health and life.

Even the hymn of farewell of the students took notice of the probability that some of those who were now going forth might either fall early on the field, or return to their native land with broken health. But at the same time it was viewed as a happy work, because it is work for Christ; and all too little at its best, as a proof of gratitude to him who gave himself up even to the death for us.

After the young men had concluded their addresses, all who were to be set apart were ranged round the communion-table for the solemnity. It was an overpowering scene. Many a cheek, tanned by exposure to sun and wind in field-work, was moistened by tears. Instead of standing, as they usually do at prayer, the whole vast assembly knelt; while the Director of Missions, laying his hands in turn on the head of each of the kneeling candidates, set him apart for the Lord's work by earnest prayer, which in each case had reference to the especial circumstances of the young man, and the field where he was to work.

One had come to them from the Moravian brethren; of that notice was taken as a token of the true unity of Christ's Church. Another had gone through all the hardships of the late war in France, and the Lord was thanked for not only preserving him through battle and sickness, but leading him to devote himself to Christ's work. One was going to the deadly coast of Africa, another to preach to the millions of China; and over each an appropriate prayer for the especial blessings he would need was uttered. One was only to be engaged in secular work connected with one of the missions in Africa; for him the needed grace was implored, that he might serve faithfully and uprightly in the work to which he was called. This laying on of hands is not ordination, it is only a setting apart for mission work: ordination is a separate matter.

The service over, the assembly went forth, to meet again in the garden of the Mission House, to receive parting words of admonition and farewell. Then, and throughout the different days' addresses, it was well kept before us that all we heard might only lead to religious excitement and mental dissipation, unless accompanied ty heart-searching and prayer. Another very marked feature throughout was the recognition of the need of humiliation on the part of all-mission directors, committees, students, and people-for many and grave shortcomings, and especially for the want of more simple faith, and a deeper spirit of prayer. Only one speech of all I heard seemed to breathe a spirit of self-congratulation as to what Switzerland had done and is doing for evangelizing France; and that I heard at once condemned, with the remark that Switzerland has little right to set herself up as a lighthouse for other lands, when in her midst is not only so much of Romish superstition, but of the, if possible, worse evil of rationalistic Protestantism and absolute unbelief.

Friday, July 5th, was a very bright happy day, the annual festival of the Institution for Homeless Children

and for training Christian Schoolmasters at Beuggen, near Basle.

A special train was provided to take the mission guests there, and a long and crowded train it was. I accompanied my hostess, who, being a relative of the excellent man who founded the institution, and whose sons still direct it, had a special interest in this part of Basle's Jahres fest. We went third-class, in order to enjoy the singing of hymns which goes on in the large carriages all the way.

The Beuggen Institution has its home in part of an old conventual building, of which the chapel and priest's house are still held by the Romish Church; for Beuggen is over the Basle frontier, in a Popish land, where it shines as a bright light. The large farm-shed was prepared with rough seats, and ornamented with wreaths of evergreens. The seats were soon all full, and many stood outside, where they could hear pretty well, as one side of the shed was quite open. And in and out, through all the services, swallows flew backwards and forwards, and fed their young in the nests among the rafters. (Ps. lxxxiv. 3.) The children were gathered in the centre, and round them the teachers who are being trained. On a little platform stood by turns the various speakers. At least all stood except the "house father" and director of the institution, Herr Zeller. He, though in the prime of life, is such a suffering invalid, that he had to be wheeled in a chair to the platform and sit while he delivered his address. In it there was no trace of weakness; no one, while listening to his clear enunciation of gospel truth, could have supposed that he was one whose nights are often spent in sleepless suffering. But perhaps one should rather say that it is because he has thus suffered that he could speak so well of the Christian as one who realized the old myth of science, with her two faces, one looking back, the other forward; for while feeling in his own soul the supporting power of the cross of Christ, he must many a time look forward with longing heart to that day when the Lord shall return to take his people to himself, no longer to suffer, but to reign with him. An interval in the speech-making was spent by all in eating pic-nic dinners under the trees in the half orchard, half garden, on the banks of the Rhine, which is large enough to give space for all. Another special train, early in the afternoon, took all who wished back to Basle; but many lingered for parting words and earnest communings with those whom they loved in the Lord, who were about to be scattered again to their distant homes.

So ended my happy week in Basle. It has left a deep impression on my mind of the living, earnest Christianity that has its home there-a Christianity which finds so much happiness in serving the Lord that it does not need to seek for enjoyment in the poor vapid excitements of the world's pleasures, which, alas! are such a snare to even true Christians in Scotland.

Nor is it only in the far-distant mission-field that the living Christians of Basle take an interest and find their

gation. The veins, like the drains in our damp fields under our dropping skies, begin in a multitude of small separate ducts, which receive the used moisture, and draw it off by converging channels to its great central reservoir: the arteries, like the canals for irrigation in India, start in one vast aorta from the source, and branch off into an infinitude of diminishing rivulets, through which the life-sap is distributed to all the surface. Precisely such are the twin-systems of drainage and irrigation, by which the art and industry of man have already greatly increased the productive power of the earth, and may yet increase it much more. Divine wisdom has adapted the earth to man by the defects which are left in nature, as well as by the amazing abundance of her supplies. In the abundance, provision is made for satisfying our wants; in the deficiency, provision is made for the healthy exercise of our faculties. If the crust of the globe had consisted of matter capable, without any preparatory process, of being used as the food of man, it would have been, for the human race, a less eligible residence. This would be a jolly world for a savage, indeed, if he had nothing more to do than go to the corner of his hut in the morning, and dig a spadeful of food for the day; but only savages would have occupied such a world. The higher faculties, never stimulated, would never have been developed. Our Father in heaven has planned more wisely for his children. He has made us fellow-workers with himself, in extracting our food from the earth; and the partnership elevates our kind. In some regions of the globe, the soil and climate are so benignant, that abundant food for man and beast grows almost spontaneously; but there the human occupants do not advance beyond the first rudiments of civilization. The combined defects and redundancies of the farm occupy and exercise in the highest measure the faculties of the farmer. The human race attain the highest degree of perfection neither under the tropics nor within the polar circle. In the one case, labour is scarcely needed; in the other, it would not avail. Both extremes tend to generate a savage idleness. is in the moderate, middle regions-where you can get no food without labour, but plenty with itthat the human faculties, moral and physical, attain their full stature.

It

Our speculations on canalization with a view to fertility should begin, like charity, at home; and therefore we must first speak of the process most used and most needed in our humid fatherland, by which the farmers relieve their fields of their surplus moisture.

DRAINAGE is a useful, rather than a fine art. Within our own generation it has made rapid progress, and now we are indebted to it for a very large proportion of our agricultural produce. The loss of its drains would produce a famine in the land. We cannot get on without water, and yet we cannot get on with it. The soil welcomes water as a visitor, but not as a permanent resident Like that inhospitable Englishman who complained that his house was full of his wife's first cousins, and wished they were "once removed," the land longs to be delivered from its near relitive the water, and grows sour if the departure is accidentally delayed.

They are

Modern travellers, if they keep their eyes open. may observe here and there, close by a rural railway station where the soil is composed of clay, a huge pile of short red tubes ready to be conveyed along the line, and distributed among the farmers. The articles are precisely like macaroni manufactured on a large scale, and dyed red. composed, however, not of flour, but of clay. They are not food; but they are the producers of food. Look, reader, to the next heap of draintiles that you see piled up near a station, and if you are of a contemplative turn of mind. reverently raise your hat as you pass; and think that, in a few years, out of these hard tubes a heap of wholesome food as great will spring These clay pipes are better than bread; they are bread-makers. There is poetry in that pile There is life in the coarse, red clay pipes, constructed for the purpose of carrying unnecessary water out of the soil: reverence them.

But there is death in those smooth, white chy pipes, which are constructed and used for the purpose of conveying unnecessary smoke into human bodies: do not reverence them, but loathe them. and fling them away. and fling them away. The red pipes, laid in the ground, draw off the morbid moisture, and leav the field waving all over with yellow grain; the white pipes introduced into the mouths of grow ing lads drain away the juices of life, leaving