Twelve years later, when William was King, and Mary, Queen, this opportune service was not forgotten, and the Kentish dean became the Primate of All England. The present Archbishop Benson succeeded to the archiepiscopate on the death of the dignified and moderate Scotchman, Archibald Campbell Tait, who had filled the archbishop's chair in honour and usefulness from the year 1868. Another ecclesiastical name pleasantly associated with the cathedral is that of Dean Henry Alford, commentator, preacher, and poet, and always Christian and gentleman, whose whole life was filled with the practice of his own precept "Be true to every inmost thought; Be as thy thought, thy speech; What thou hast not by suffering bought, and whose memory, will never fade from the Church while it sings his beautiful hymn, beginning "Lo, the storms of life are breaking," or the favourite "harvest hymn " "Come, ye thankful people, come," and above all that psalm of solemn self-surrender- If that wherein my hopes delight "It may be mine to drag for years Or day and night my meat be tears "Dear faces may surround my hearth Or I may dwell alone, and mirth "My bark is wafted to the strand And on the helm there rests a hand PRESENT-DAY CANTERBURY. As we pass out of the gateway of the Mint Yard, we pause for the procession of a soldier's funeral, and then, turning to the right, follow the course of the rather dilapidated North Gate Street to get a glimpse of St. John's Hospital, which, like the foundation of Harbledown, is due to the charity of Archbishop Lanfranc. The houses of the old folk stand in a pleasant garden, screened from the street by an old timbered gateway of considerable artistic interest. We then return on our steps, and going down Broad Street, presently reach the Missionary College of St. Augustine, a noble and harmonious modern adaptation of the ruins of St. Augustine's Monastery, which, alas! after its dismantling, had been long left to such base uses as a drinking booth, a dancing-room, and a skittle-ground, while some of its very stones had been carted away to enlarge the mansions of certain gentry of the vicinity. Now, however, it has regained much of its old dignity and beauty, and is devoted to the training of clergy who shall go out to our colonies and other foreign lands as St. Augustine himself came from Rome to Britain, when he preached Christianity in the still older building, which then occupied the site of the picturesque old Church of St. Martin (which we prolong our walk to visit), in whose ancient font it is quite possible that the Saxon King Ethelbert was himself baptized. cross Returning from St. Martin's Church, and following the line of Bridge Street and the Cattle Market, we soon the beautiful gardens surrounding the "Dane John," a relic of antiquity in the form of a conical mound, which somewhat perplexes antiquarians. Pursuing our way back to the town by Castle Street, we find that the former misuse and degradation of St. Augustine's was by no means the only instance of vandalism in Canterbury. The Castle itself. a noble Norman keep, in which were confined the last martyrs of the Marian persecution (who suffered death only a week before the Queen herself died), has been actually used as a coal store for the adjoining gasworks! Nor is the city without other even more suggestive hints of the transitoriness of earthly pomp and pride and prejudice, for we remember that opposite the Mint Yard Gate, an arch bearing the Black Prince's arms has made way for a rag and bone shop, and we are told that a Jewish synagogue occupies the territory of the Knights Templars! We leave the quiet city, once so full of bustle and policy and power, with regret. It has "corners which tempt our lingering regard almost as much as do its "show-places." And as the great towers of the Cathedral fade from sight amid the glories of midsummer sunset, we find ourselves repeating the quaint lines of a well-nigh forgotten old versifier "This changing and great variance Of God above, that rule thee shall! I. F. MAYO. A Mission to New Guinea. TH HE Fijian church has shown great zeal for the conversion of other heathen people. In June 1875, nine native teachers volunteered to join Mr. Brown in his perilous mission to New Guinea. The English consul pointed out the dangers arising from the climate and the cannibal people, but the Fijians were not dismayed. They replied, "We are all of one mind. We know what these islands are. We have given ourselves to this work. If we get killed, well; if we live, well. We have had everything explained to us, and know the danger. We are willing to go." They felt that if the messengers of the Gospel had been afraid to come among them in the days of cannibalism, Fiji would never have known the joys of Christ's salvation. Other parties followed in 1877 and 1891, and the success of the mission in New Guinea is now extremely encouraging. is not relaxed after this stage has been reached, but a jealous watch is kept over every convert that there may be no departure from the right path. Miss Gordon-Cumming gives some pleasant descriptions of the native gatherings which she attended with Mr. Langham, the superintendent of the Wesleyan mission, and his wife. They sailed in the mission ship Jubilee, a schooner of fifty tons. On Palm Sunday they had an openair celebration of the Lord's Supper, with the Fijians kneeling on the grass beneath the shade of the ndawa trees, which resemble our walnut trees, but have young red leaves. Sometimes the gatherings were held by torchlight. The school examinations, with the picturesque dresses, were very pretty sights. Wreaths of green, yellow, or lilac leaves, hanging in long fringes from waist. to shoulders, were freely worn. Each scholar brought some little offering which was laid at the feet of the missionary. A large proportion of the children read and wrote well, and the arithmetic was good. The whole body was in perpetual motion during the mental arithmetic, with much clapping of hands and shouting out the results. At Nandwei there was a village feast, when all the A Fijian people came to the green with their offerings for the spread of the Gospel. A thousand women filed past, each of them bringing a mat, a bunch of live crabs or dried fish, or a basket of yams. One came with a roasted parrot. Then the men trooped past with seven or eight large turtle, live pigs, fowls, and other things. A merry boy, well oiled and wearing a scarlet kilt and white native cloth, brought a large cock in his arms. National games and dances followed. Then Mr. Langham gave a short address, and the three thousand people knelt down in prayer. Nothing disCollection. tresses the people more than to be without an offering on the great missionary day. If they have no money they will sell some treasured bowl or spear and show much anxiety to receive small coins in payment, so that every member of the family may have one to present. Sometimes they sell, such a treasure in order to secure a copy of the New Testament. At the feast, the coins are generally carried in the mouth, and shot out on the mat spread to receive offerings. The hands are employed with spear or fan. Three or four shillings is often given by one person, the names of those who contribute this amount appear in the printed list as those of guinea subscribers often do in England. A Native Church. The fine native church at Rewa is eighty feet long by thirty-five feet wide. Save its doors and windows it is entirely of Fijian construction. Its walls are made of reeds daubed over with line, which forms a kind of concrete. The immense thatched roof is supported by a colonnade of large wooden pillars more than twenty feet high, and is reckoned a masterpiece of native workmanship. As you look up at the innumerable ribs of cocoa-nut timbers you might fancy that you were inside a boat. The foundation of earth on which the church stands projects around the building, forming a kind of terrace. It is protected and adorned by squared blocks of tall fern. Rough prisms of dark stone which once belonged to the heathen temples are set about this terrace. There are no pews, so that the church holds five hundred people. The Rewa circuit has more than three hundred preaching places, but this is the finest. We take this description from the Australasian Methodist Review for 1894, which contains a capital picture of this quaint place of worship. Letter Writing. In the previous number of this spirited little journal there is an amusing account of Fijian letter writing. There are no tables in a Fijian house. The native "lies flat on his face, spreads his lower limbs recklessly about, as if possessed of universal joints in hip and knee and ankle. Paper and ink are then placed on the mats just beyond his head, and thus with his arms doubled up like the wings of a trussed turkey, he begins his epistle, with an introduction that never varies, it matters not how important or otherwise the subject-matter of his correspondence may be. If it be the mosquito season the unfortunate native is attacked by as bloodthirsty and villainous a crowd of enemies as ever sent lance into the flesh of humanity. As his dress is scanty and by no means close fitting, he is compelled to flap his legs in mid-air to ward off the advancing foe. While performing these evolutions there are few things that he reminds one more of than those noisy upriver steamers technically known as stern wheelers." A Fijian Funeral. The Rev. A. J. Small, who has made excellent use of the extensive printing plant at Viwa which he found carefully packed away in cases just as it had come from England, has been appointed editor of a new Wesleyan paper which is to be printed in Fijian and promises to render valuable service to the infant churches. He gives a graphic description of the mourning over a girl of twenty which he witnessed recently some miles from Viwa. The maiden was the daughter of a chief, and after leaving the crowded church where he had preached and administered the sacrament, Mr. Small went to see his old friend. He says: "I was startled to find myself face to face with the corpse, which I at once saw was most beautifully attired in native cloth adorned with many prettily-arranged trimmings, while the head was encircled with a coronal of another kind of native cloth called masi, almost pure white in colour, and as soft as silk, with both edges tastefully fringed." The gaily-dressed figure was resting on a bier set in a slanting position against the wall of the house, and the old chief sat close by clasping the slender hand of his daughter. Mr. Small had never seen a body placed in this position, but he learned that it was customary in the case of a person of rank. The girl died in great peace. She told her father that she was going to heaven, and though the old man sorrowed deeply, he said: "I have my consolations, and my own faith is unshaken." The visitor held a short service at which "My God, my Father, while I stray" was sung with full hearts. Next day crowds of people "Hundreds of yards of met for the funeral. native cloth, scores of large grass mats prettily fringed with wool of different colours, and many whales' teeth were presented to the bereaved chief." Dismal lamentations thrilled every nerve. Then the body was wrapped in cloth and mats, and securely corded. The old chief had these removed and kissed again and again the clammy cheek of the girl he loved so well. He repeated his lamentations at the grave. More than a dozen soft mats lined the grave. After the burial service had been read several men sprang into the open grave pressing the body down, then the earth was thrown in and Penninah the fair maid of Vugalei was left in her narrow house. chief promised to erect a church in memory of his beloved daughter. are made. The Fijian houses have no chimneys, but How Dresses the fire is placed in a sunken corner of the room enclosed by logs of the cocoa palm. The women make dresses of the streamers of pandanus brightly dyed and turn the bark of the mulberry tree into native cloth. After this has been steeped in water the green outer bark is scraped off with a sharp shell. Then the fibre is beaten with a grooved mallet. A strip two inches wide can be spread out into a gauze one foot wide. If strong cloth is needed two or more pieces are laid together when their own gluten causes them to adhere firmly. These pieces can be joined together so as to form a roll a couple of hundred yards long. It is now creamy white, but it is often dyed and converted into tappa of very lovely designs. The girls rasp sandal-wood to powder their hair or scent their hair-oil. Fijian Cookery. The Fijian bakehouse is a great pit lined with firewood. A layer of stones is put upon the wood, then the animals to be roasted are arranged in order with stones inside each to secure that they shall be cooked throughout. Leaves and earth are piled on them and the baking is begun. Bread is made by putting bananas and bread-fruit into a pit lined with plantain leaves. The girls tread the fruit into a pulpy mass, then cover it up and allow it to ferment. On the day these pits are opened the smell for half a mile round is awful, but the Fijians themselves delight in it. Puddings are made of taro, cooked and pounded, and cut into small lumps. After these have been baked they are heaped into a great pit lined with banana leaves and mixed up with sugar-cane juice and pounded cocoa-nut. For one great feast nineteen of these gigantic puddings were prepared. Two of these measured nineteen and twenty-one feet in circumference. At another feast a wall of turtles and pigs, ten feet long and five wide were roasted whole; and there was a mass of fish five feet high and sixty feet long. Mékés, or pantomimic dances, are one Pastimes. of the quaint pastimes of Fiji. Each district has mékés peculiar to itself. At Rewa one is performed which is intended to represent the breaking of the water on a coral reef. The dancers advance silently in long lines like the waves, then smaller companies step forth with hands and bodies bent forward to imitate rippling wavelets, the tiniest waves being represented by children. They gradually increase their speed, making occasional backward movements like the sea, but still moving onwards towards the islet round which they play. Some of the dancers spring into the air and fling their arms above their heads to represent the breaking surf. Their streaming white head-gear floating in the wind adds to the general effect, and there is an orchestra which imitates the roar of the surf on the coral reef. Another méké shows how a flock of flying foxes rob a garden of ripe bananas. Then there is the pie dance and a club dance of warriors. One of Thakombau's sons played the part of a big dog in a dance where all the children appeared on fours as cats. The people greatly enjoy these pantomimes and Miss Gordon-Cumming's description shows how realistic some of them are. missionaries of course discourage the use of any of these dances that are connected with the barbarities of the past. There is indeed no need for a Fijian to remind himself of these terrible times. Such reminders are only too painfully frequent. Most women above fifty have lost the little finger from one or both hands. The first joint used to be sawn off with a sharp shell as a sign of mourning; if another bereavement followed, the second The was sacrificed; then the other hand was mutilated in its turn. The severed joint was fastened into a reed and placed on the eaves of the chief's house. Local Governme t Fiji was annexed by England in 1874. The epidemic of measles which Thakombau's retinue brought back from Sydney after the annexation, swept away one-third of the people, and the population seems to be declining. Our task in Fiji is not easy, but the natives are being trained in self-government, and a great council of the chiefs meets the Governor every year in May to consider all matters affecting the islands. Village councils assemble every month to deal with springs, wells, and various local questions. A cluster of these villages form a district and their representatives meet on the first Tuesday in each month to regulate all matters that cannot be decided by the village councils. Grave cases are sent on to the higher provincial councils which are held twice a year. The chief of each district has to give an account of the state of the villages under his jurisdiction. The sanitation, the record of births, deaths and marriages, the condition of the schools all come under review here. who cultivate the soil pay some fixed proportion of their produce to the Government. The amount of the tax which each province must raise is fixed by the Legislative Council, and a scale of prices is named at which produce will be received. Then it is arranged what articles each district shall send. Sometimes a village grows its own tax produce with its ordinary crops; sometimes villages combine to grow their produce in one large plantation. The system as now worked has some disadvantages of its own, but it has yielded a considerable revenue and has also stimulated industry and production. The hated poll tax has been abolished, a fair price has been secured for native produce. Those The Fijian is not capable of prolonged labour like a European, but he is devoted to his garden. It would not be easy to find youth or man who has not his own plot under cultivation. An axe and knife are used for clearing purposes with a stick for digging. In the spring or planting season a whole community will band together tilling all the village gardens in turn. Sometimes the seed is also provided from the general store, the actual owner having only to furnish provisions for the day. Sugar, maize, fibre, fruit, pearl-shell, peanuts and coffee find a market in Australia and New Zealand. Bananas and pine-apples grow luxuriously. Annexation has proved an undoubted blessing to Fiji. There are, however, many difficult problems yet to be solved. The cotton and sugar planters have suffered heavily, partly through their own lack of foresight and economy, partly through the difficulty of securing labourers. The population does not increase. There is little doubt that two hundred years ago it was ten times as large as at present. Before 1874 it had been diminishing at the rate of five thousand a year. Then came the dreadful measles epidemic. Sanitary reform is needed, for many of the villages are rendered unhealthy by the deep ditches and |