There are some names so famous in wild Australia, and especially on the mission stations, that they deserve and must have a chapter to themselves.

The first of these is Tom Moreton who soon after he became a Christian also became a leper. His earliest teachings were, I believe, received at Yarrabah, and there he was baptized, confirmed, and made his first communion. When he was found to be suffering from his terrible disease, which is somewhat common in those parts, he was removed by the Government to Friday Island, the leper settlement in the far north. Nearly all the other lepers there were South Sea Islanders, and most of them had been baptized, having become Christians during their time of service as labourers in the sugar-plantations. One of them had been a teacher of the London Missionary Society. Tom evidently regarded his exile to Friday Island as an opportunity of earnest work for his Saviour. He set himself to teach his poor fellow-lepers all he knew of the love and gentleness of our Lord. They readily listened to his words as he taught the way of God more perfectly. Their leprosy had attacked them before they had come to know all His Love. He was no official missionary, there had been no formal sending, but he told them everything the Lord Jesus had done for him and how He had dealt with his soul. He awakened in them a keen desire to be partakers in the great Memorial Feast which the Saviour had ordained, and then he began one by one to prepare them for it. When some time afterwards the Bishop of Carpentaria visited the island Tom told him what he had done. The Bishop spoke to them one by one, and finding them really in earnest administered to them the laying-on-of-hands. He then placed them in Tom's care again. When he next came he administered to all the Holy Communion. The last scene of all is very solemn. The Government decided to close Friday Island and remove the lepers to Brisbane. So the Bishop came once more steering his vessel with his own hands into the little bay. An ordinary washing table was brought out and placed beneath the trees. A white cloth covered it and upon it the Sacred Feast was spread. The sixteen poor leprous men "drew near," and there were tears in the Bishop's eyes as he placed in those poor maimed hands the Heavenly Food. It was a pathetic farewell to Friday Island, but how those hearts must have blessed the faithful ministry of the aboriginal saint, Tom Moreton!

The next name on our roll of honour is James Noble. He was one of those who volunteered to go with the first missionaries to the Roper River. For about three years he remained there and was a great help and encouragement to the founders of that mission, as he is a great help and strength to-day to the work at Yarrabah. Once a savage he has sat more than once as one of the representatives of Yarrabah in the Synod, or Church Parliament, of his diocese, and is always listened to with something more than respect as he pleads at different meetings the cause of his neglected people. He is now a Catechist, and is trusted and much loved by all.

Sam Smith's right to a place on our roll of honour no one who knows his story could deny. He is a native of New South Wales, his home being near Dubbo. He works on one of the sheep stations and is an earnest and devout Christian. But there are no idle Christians among the blacks. All are taught that they must undertake some definite work for our Lord. Sam has chosen as his work Sunday-school teaching. Every Saturday afternoon when his week's work is done he starts off through the bush for his distant Sunday-school twenty-eight miles away, takes his class on the Sunday and then in the evening walks twenty-eight miles back again so as to be on the spot for his work again on Monday morning. It is a long journey, but Sam never fails.

The last on our little list of saints and heroes is not a Christian at all, but none the less we cannot refuse him a place among those who deserve to be remembered. Neighbour, a native of the Roper River country, had been arrested on a charge of cattle stealing. Probably his poor savage heart saw nothing wrong in the deed. He was being led off in custody by police constable Johns. When crossing a flooded stream the constable's horse turned over and kicked him badly on the head. He was in grave danger of drowning. Neighbour was burdened with heavy chains, but he at once jumped into the river at the risk of his life and brought the constable to land. Mounting the horse he then rode off for help. The chance was given him of freeing himself from his chains and making good his escape. His brave act was at once reported to the authorities, who brought it to the knowledge of King George. He was only sixteen and a savage. The King decided to confer the Albert Medal upon him. It was presented to him at a great public gathering at Government House, Port Darwin, some months afterwards in the presence of many of the leading residents. It is the first time such an honour has ever been paid to an Australian native, and Neighbour's bosom swells with lawful pride as he points to the medal upon his breast.