p. 11 | Review and Herald, Vol. 82, No. 5. (2/2/1905)

Earlier text: Entering into Other Men's Labors

What Are We Showing to Babylon?

By HARRY ARMSTRONG

HARRY ARMSTRONG

“Then said he, What have they seen in thy house? And Hezekiah answered, All that is in mine house have they seen: there is nothing among my treasures that I have not showed them.” Isa. 39:4.

It is significant and of the greatest importance, said they, that Merodach-baladan, the son of Baladan, should at this time send unto us a royal embassy from the courts of Babylon. It will be our first duty, in seeking to gain their admiration, to set our house in order, display all our worth for their special benefit, and make an effort to impress them duly with a sense of our prestige and power. We will show them the most precious things we have in all Jerusalem; for we have now “exceeding much riches and honor.”

O, it is well for us that they did not come to us in our ragged wilderness days before we had built up a name and a reputation! We have something to show Babylon now, and we will show them all we have. What, think you, will they say to the treasuries we have built for our silver, and for gold, and for precious stones, and for spices, and for shields, and for all manner of pleasant jewels? All these will we show them.

Thus made they their boast—they to whom pertained the adoption, and the covenants, and the glory of the service of God, and the giving of the law and the promises.

“At that time Merodach-baladan, the son of Baladan, king of Babylon, sent letters and a present to Hezekiah: for he had heard that he had been sick, and was recovered. And Hezekiah was glad of them, and showed them the house of his precious things, the silver, and the gold, and the spices, and the precious ointment, and all the house of his

armor, and all that was found in his treasures: there was nothing in his house, nor in all his dominion, that Hezekiah showed them not.

“Then came Isaiah the prophet unto King Hezekiah, and said unto him, What said these men? and from whence came they unto thee? And Hezekiah said, They are come from a far country unto me, even from Babylon. Then said he, What have they seen in thine house? And Hezekiah answered, All that is in mine house have they seen: there is nothing among my treasures that I have not showed them. Then said Isaiah to Hezekiah, Hear the word of the Lord of hosts: Behold, the days come, that all that is in thine house, and that which thy fathers have laid up in store until this day, shall be carried to Babylon: nothing shall be left, saith the Lord.”

Think for a moment what Hezekiah might have shown them,—the things in Jerusalem which had no comparison in the treasures of Babylon. Then there was the wonderful story of God’s gracious dealings with his chosen people,—the story of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who, while dwelling in tents “looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God,”—and of Joseph,—his arrest, imprisonment, and release, and the wonderful deliverance God wrought through him in preserving the life of the Egyptians during the long years of famine,—and of Moses, who from an ark of bulrushes grew up to be Israel’s leader out of Egypt, through all their wilderness wanderings, and into the promised land.

And Hezekiah could have told them concerning “the wonder that was done in the land,” and how “he had been sick and recovered.” Babylon had no such story to unfold, but he to whom it was given to make known flaunted a stock-in-trade of spurious and paltry vanity instead of the glory and power of his Jehovah God.

You will observe that he who played this devil’s comedy had only recently been snatched from the jaws of death, and brought back from the brink of the grave. Affliction does not always refine. One would have thought that standing face to face with things eternal would have caused him to see things in their right proportion. To little purpose had the Lord thus dealt with him. And now the solemn words are heard, saying, “Behold, the days come, that all that is in thine house, and that which thy fathers have laid up in store until this day, shall be carried to Babylon: nothing shall be left, saith the Lord.”

The sin of Hezekiah is the sin of the church. To-day the remnant and true church of God is in danger of allowing history to repeat itself in being turned away from its true mission in the world. The spirit of rivalry and competition is gaining an entrance into the church, and is paralyzing all its spiritual power. The church can conquer the world, but she can not compete with it without becoming a second-rate world. Any attempt at competition is fatal, and signifies compromise and failure.

What shall we show to Babylon,—we who are raised up in fulfilment of prophecy to close up the history of the world? Shall we make our boast numerically, saying our numbers are increasing? In this respect we can not begin to compare with that false system, Roman Catholicism, which numbers its adherents by the million. Shall we make mention of our buildings, and invite the attention of the world to their size and architecture? The very prisons and asylums can boast of more solidity, and perhaps of more structural magnificence.

Sometimes we hear it said that “such a building is a credit to our cause,” but we do well to remember that buildings are not ends, but means. And while it is true that they are necessary, buildings are only incidental to the great work of soul saving; and when the church has completed that work, and receives her translation, she will not take her buildings with her.

Institutionalism and commercialism are not pillars of God’s work. The divine inventory does not record what our churches and buildings are, but what is done in them. It is stated that the Mormon tabernacle at Utah is the largest place of worship in America; and that the mosque at Constantinople is the largest place of worship in the world. The Taj Mahal in India is the most beautiful building in the world. Shall we try to compete with these?—Never.

Numbers, wealth, social position, splendor of architecture,—we have something better than these to show to Babylon. We will show the ambassadors our gallery of living pictures, with which no cinematograph can compare. Each picture, while complete in itself, is still a part of a wonderful series of views culminating in the glorious presentation of the rapture scene, which presents the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. We will put them in line with Enoch, who was able to look down through the ages and see the Lord coming with ten thousand of his saints.

We will also show to Babylon the ancient seal of Jehovah, in which is inscribed his name, title, and the extent of his dominions. They shall learn that the wonderful Edenic institution of God’s holy Sabbath is the memorial of creative power, and the perfect seal of a perfect creation given to a perfect man. We will lift it up before them as an ensign of rest, and tell them that because Jesus Christ is Lord also of the Sabbath day, there remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God.

The royal ambassy shall also learn of God’s gracious dealings with our forefathers, and how he sent unto them his messengers and prophets, “rising up betimes, and sending: because he had compassion on his people, and on his dwelling-place.” They shall know that even to-day the voice of prophecy is heard in our midst, and that God graciously speaks to his people through the instrumentality of his own choosing.

They shall discern and judge between the “Testimonies to the Church” and those false divinations which the prognosticators of Babylon prepare.

They shall also learn the true significance of baptism. We will lead them in the footsteps of Jesus to Jordan’s watery grave. There they shall see through those silent waters the reflection of Calvary, and learn of its gracious import as the portal to resurrection power.

All this will prepare them for the judgment scene, which is described in solemn grandeur: “I beheld till the thrones were cast down [placed], and the Ancient of days did sit, whose garment was white as snow, and the hair of his head like the pure wool: his throne was like the fiery flame, and his wheels as burning fire. A fiery stream issued and came forth from before him: thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him: the judgment was set, and the books were opened.”

With this wonderful scene before us, we can set forth to Babylon the loud cry of the third angel’s message, which announces that “the hour of his judgment is come.” This will open the way into the heavenly sanctuary, even into the most holy place, where Jesus, our forerunner, is for us entered. We can show that all that took place in that ancient typical day of atonement is now being fulfilled in that true tabernacle, in the heavens, which the Lord pitched, and not man. As they view that work steadily going on in the cleansing of the heavenly sanctuary, they must learn that God is now making a final appeal to all who dwell in the earth, to “worship him that made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of waters.”

What are we showing to Babylon? Can we show anything greater than these pillars of living truth? We do not need anything greater; for these are royally eloquent and mighty in their true setting. You may read of what they have done in wounded hearts comforted, feeble wills strengthened, prodigals restored, inveterate habits broken, imaginations cleansed, lives sanctified, and souls saved. These are our jewels; these are our wealth. Nay, they are not ours; they are His.

Ceylon.

Guarding Thoughts and Words

By H. L. Sidney Lear

THE habit of letting every foolish or uncharitable thought, as it arises, find words, has a great deal to do with much evil in the world. Check the habit of uttering the words, and gradually you will find that you check the habit of thought, too. A resolution always to turn to some distinctly good thought in the mind, is a great help—as it is when a complaining or unkind one arises to turn every thought condemnatory of our neighbor into a prayer for him. We never can long continue to dislike people for whom we pray.—H. L. Sidney Lear.

No Place for Boys

WHAT can a boy do, and where can a boy stay, If he always is told to get out of the way? He can not sit here, and he must not stand there. The cushions that cover that fine rocking-chair Were put there, of course, to be seen and admired; And a boy has no business to ever be tired. The beautiful roses and flowers that bloom On the floor of the darkened and delicate room Are not made to walk on, at least not for boys; The house is no place, anyway, for their noise.

Yet boys must walk somewhere, and what if their feet, Sent out of our house, sent into the street, Should step round the corner and pause at the door, Where other boys' feet have paused often before, Should pass through the gateway of glittering light, Where jokes that are merry, and songs that are bright, Ring out a warm welcome with flattering voice, And temptingly say, “Here's a place for the boys”?

Ah! what if they should? What if your boy or mine Should cross o'er the threshold that marks out the line 'Twixt virtue and vice, 'Twixt pureness and sin, And leave all his innocent boyhood within? O, what if they should, because you and I, While the days and the months and the years hurry by, Are too busy with cares and with life's fleeting joys To make round our hearthstones a place for the boys?

There's a place for the boys. They will find it somewhere; And if our own homes are too daintily fair For the touch of their fingers, the tread of their feet, They'll find it, and find it, alas! in the street, 'Mid the gildings of sin and the glitter of vice; And with heartaches and longings we pay a dear price, For the getting of gain that our lifetime employs, If we fail in providing a place for the boys.

A place for the boys—dear mothers, I pray, As cares settle down round our short earthly way, Don't let us forget, by our kind, loving deeds, To show we remember their pleasures and needs, Though our souls may be vexed with the problems of life, And worn with besetments and toiling and strife. Our hearts will keep younger—your tired heart and mine— If we give them a place in their innermost shrine; And to life's latest hour 'twill be one of our joys That we keep a small corner, a place for the boys.

—Selected.

A Few Suggestions on Pneumonia

By EDITH E. BRUCE

EDITH E. BRUCE

One of the most fatal diseases with which we have to contend is pneumonia. There are three kinds, or forms, of pneumonia,—lobar, croupous, and bronchial,—but we will simply speak of the disease as pneumonia. It is an acute infectious disease characterized by an inflammation of the lungs, and usually ends with a crisis.

There are three stages of the disease: in the first twelve to forty-eight hours the lung is engorged, or filled with blood. We then have the red hepatization, or second stage, where the air-cells become filled up, and the lung looks like the liver. The third stage, or gray hepatization, is where the lung is turning back to its natural color.

General symptoms: Cough, pain in the lung, fever, chills, difficult breathing, rapid pulse, weakness, nausea, and sometimes delirium. Meningitis, pericarditis, and abscesses on the lung are very frequent complications. The right lobe is usually affected first, and the patient will prefer lying on the affected side.

Pneumonia is more common in cities than in the country, and more cases occur among males than females, probably due to more exposure in outdoor work. It is usually caused by cold, and after one has had an attack, he is more susceptible to it.

Death usually occurs from heart failure, the heart not being able to force the blood through the lungs; hence a very important thing is to relieve the heart as much as possible, and this may be done by treatment. Let us remember that medicine can not do very much for pneumonia; so much depends upon the nurse. With no disease is prompt and constant care more needed than in this.

Treatment

One of the most important things to do is to keep the extremities warm; this will dilate the blood-vessels, and assist the heart in its work by taking the blood away from the congested lung. This is best done by a hot hip and leg pack every three or four hours. Heat should also be applied to the arms at the same time, with cold compress to the chest and cold on the head. With all hot treatments cold should be applied to the head. Fomentations to the lung for ten or fifteen minutes every three hours should be given, followed by a chest pack between. Give the patient plenty of water to drink, and above all, plenty of fresh air. Keep the bowels open by means of the enema, and keep the patient well nourished. A light, nutritious diet should be given. Remember the patient is having a battle for life, and do not excite him by allowing any one in the room except the one who is to care for him, and keep him very quiet. Keep the room a steady, even temperature, from sixty-five to seventy degrees.

As in other cases, keep the room clean and neat, with plenty of sunlight. Cloths used in expectoration should be burned. Do not allow the patient to rise up, as the heart is very weak, and heart failure might result from the exertion. The mitten friction and cold towel rub are excellent tonic treatments, and they are best preceded by a hot foot-bath or fomentation.

About Beds

BEDS were unknown among the ancients, who slept on the floor or on a divan covered with skins. It was in the Middle Ages that beds first became common, being made of rushes, leather, or straw. It is supposed that feather-beds were known to the Romans, since men are reviled by one of the Latin

poets for their luxury in sleeping upon “feathers.” Heliogabalus, the most effeminate of the Roman emperors, possessed an air-cushion and an air mattress as early as A. D. 210. In England the better classes began to use feather-beds for the first time during the reign of Henry VIII, and in certain districts of Holland and Germany bedsteads are still fitted as they were then, with two feather-beds; upon one the sleeper lies, the other being used for covering. The Russian peasant places his bed on the top of the oven for the sake of the warmth given out by the fire.—Selected.

Too Busy to Be Kind

THERE is much food for thought in the words, “too busy to be kind”—a something, perhaps, that will “strike home” to each and every one of us. The Young Woman says: “We hear so much about making every minute count, and always having some work or course of study for spare hours, and having our activities all systematized, that there is no place left for small wayside kindnesses. We go to see the sick neighbor, and relieve the poor neighbor, but for the common, every-day neighbor who has fallen by the way, so far as we can see, we haven’t a minute to spare. The old-fashioned exchange of garden-flowers over the back fence, and friendly chats about domestic matters, help to brighten weary days, and bring more cheer than many a sermon. We ought not to be too busy to inquire about the girl at school, or to be interested in the letter from the boy at sea. It is a comfort to the mother’s lonely heart to feel that somebody else cares for that which means much to her. May no one be able to say of us that he was too busy to be kind.”—Selected.

They “Never Had a Chance”

PROBABLY nine out of ten men past middle life, if asked how it happens that they are to-day only barely earning their living, would tell you that they “never had a chance;” that they were kept back, that circumstances were against them, that they had no opportunities, such as other boys around them had, or that they did not have the proper schooling, or else plead some similar excuse.

The probabilities are that opportunity did visit every one of these men more than once in their youth or early manhood, but that they did not see that all good chances consisted in doing everything which they undertook cheerfully, promptly, and just as well as it could be done.

As boys they did not look upon every errand as a chance to be polite, prompt, energetic; on every lesson in school as a foundation-stone in their success-structure. They did not think that the demoralizing hours of indolence and shiftlessness which they were weaving into the web of their lives would mar the fabric forever, and reproach them through all time. They did not realize that the impudent reply to their employer, the carelessness and indifference which they slipped into their tasks, would come out as ghosts, in the future, to mar their happiness and success. They looked upon every duty shirked, the minutes they cut off from each end of a day, as so much gain. They did not realize that these things, which seemed so innocent, would grow into giant defects which would mar their future success.

They did not think that their slipshod methods, their careless attire, and their aggressive manners would lie as great bars across the path of their future success, and keep them back from the goal of their ambitions.

The foregoing from the Observer voices the sentiment of every individual who has made a success in life in any line.

The people mentioned in the item do not think that all these things were the real causes of their being non-progressive, plodders when they might be continually trading on their talents, and rising to new heights each year. The world needs men of opportunity, not minutemen.

“Minutemen,” however, are not developed in a minute. How is it with you, reader? Are you planning for something better?—Selected.

Life's Sunset

OLD age creeps on unawares. It comes as come the autumn days. We find they are upon us because the boughs of the trees are growing thin.

The Christian grows old peacefully, calmly. In growing old, he becomes more noble, more tender. Because of his comforting hope in God, his life is still sweet and sunny, full of song-birds and joy. Growing old with him is growing ripe. Fruits in autumn ripen beautifully. They grow ruddy with sunshine and dew, and then drop into the basket of the fruit-gatherer. As fruits in autumn ripen, so does the Christian grow old. As his eyes grow dim to earthly sights, he sees in clearer vision the things that are to come.

How inspiring are God's promises to old age! "They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing; to show that the Lord is upright: he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him." "Even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you." "And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday; thou shalt shine forth, thou shalt be as the morning." "Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season."

What pictures of old age do we have in the Bible! They show how the eventide of life may overflow with light. There is aged Jacob. He breathes the serenity of God. He is filled with the joy of God. There is a dignity about the old patriarch like that of the mountain pine, that, standing upon its watch-tower, o'erlooks the years as they come and go. Heaven seems to him nearer and dearer as this life fades into a dream; for he realizes now that this life is as a dream, and that the immortal life is the sublime reality. There is Simeon. So many are his years, that he totters as he walks into the temple. There is about his old age a richness as of the autumn forests. Clothed he is, with a sanctity like that of some hoary cathedral. In the triumphs of his splendid faith, he says: "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, . . . for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." There, in his mellow and sweet-tempered age, is John, the beloved disciple. Beautiful as the sunset is his old age. As he receives the Apocalypse, he looks right into the glories of the New Jerusalem. He takes the splendors of the heavenly world as they flash before the dazzled vision of his seership, and writes them down in a book that will ever move and thrill and comfort the Christian world. With John, growing old is victory, exultation, a song of triumph, a harvest-home.

Old age should be sweet and fair and serene—as quiet a process as the sunset. The ideal death is that which comes to old age.—Northwestern Christian Advocate.

The Mulberry Tree

ALL fruit is best when just picked from the tree, the mulberry especially, when fully ripe, as it is more juicy than any other fruit, and makes a delicious, refreshing drink. In France and other places the mulberry tree is extensively grown for its leaves, for the feeding of silkworms. And already in Victoria many are planting mulberry trees for the same purpose, in expectation that the silk from the silkworms will yield a good profit, while developing a new branch of industry.

Perhaps few realize the work of the silkworm, beyond the fact that it is a silk-spinner. There are some who, for religious motives, will not wear any article made of silk, because spun by the worm.

Again: most lovers of dress and fashion are never so happy as when clothed in the silk of the worm. Herein is a lesson for all to think about. The clothing we so admire and covet is given to us by the worms we so despise. Worms, vegetables, and beasts clothe our naked bodies; understanding this, where is room for pride of dress? . . .

The mulberry tree will always remind Bible readers of the Lord's answer to David when he inquired if he should go out to the Philistines. The Lord said, “Go not up after them; turn away from them, and come upon them over against the mulberry trees. And it shall be, when thou shalt hear a sound of going in the tops of the mulberry trees, that then thou shalt go out to battle: for God is gone forth before thee to smite the host of the Philistines. David therefore did as God commanded him: and they smote the host of the Philistines.” 1 Chron. 14: 13-17.— Selected.

A Good Motto

THE following motto, adopted by a certain missionary society, would be a good one for every young person—or old one either—to adopt for himself:—

“I am but one, But I am one. I can not do everything, But I can do something. What I can do I ought to do, And what I ought to do, God helping me, I will do.” —Selected.

Habit Grows Older, Lives Longer

“THE older I am,” said Habit, “the longer I shall live.”

Parents Must Lead by Example

“PARENTS who would train up their children in the way they ought to go, must go in the way in which they would train up their children.”

Remedy for Hoarseness

“If you are hoarse, lemon juice is squeezed on to soft sugar till it is like a sirup, and a few drops of glycerin added, relieves the hoarseness at once.”

Experiences in Syria

By ELIAS ZARUB

ELIAS ZARUB

The third angel's message is strange to the people of the East. The difficulties stand out as strong walls, but the Lord will remove every one that would stay the progress of present truth. We are of good courage; for the Lord is doing his work in Syria.

When I settled in Beirut, we went out among the people, distributing tracts and pamphlets in the Arabic language, visiting the people in their houses, and speaking freely in many meetings. The Protestant missionaries were irritated, and the native Christians were stirred up, with many other people, to examine this new doctrine; but it is hard for them to take their stand. However, the seed is sown, and the harvest-time will come. There is one person here keeping the Sabbath.

I heard that a lady, the president of a native school on Mount Lebanon, was keeping the Sabbath, so we went to see her in her village, called Shwaifat, about seven miles east of Beirut. We found that she had been keeping the Sabbath for three years, since she left the United States the last time. Miss Courie was very glad to see us. The Lord has helped her to understand a number of the points of present truth.

Now and then we called on the school of our new sister. We held a number of meetings there, in which the students and some of her friends heard the message. Some are about to decide. I hope that this school will be a good foundation for our educational work in the future, if the school can only be continued. This sister had a brother who was helping her, but he has recently died, and she finds it very hard to carry the burden alone. She has no building for her school, but is expecting the Lord to help her in every way.

A Trip

After our general meeting in Jaffa we made a trip to spy out the country as far as Tiberia, on the Sea of Galilee. This trip brought to mind the wonderful works of our blessed Redeemer. I visited two friends, and left them satisfied in mind about the Sabbath question. We left some tracts with them. We next visited Safad, a large town, most of the inhabitants being Jews. We preached the message there to my acquaintances and many others. They were interested, and the native preacher offered to work with us, but I told him kindly that the work must first be done fully in him.

A Danish missionary invited us to his house, and he and his wife accepted the message which has been sent to them. Mr. Bower and a converted Jew followed us to Beirut, and stayed with us many days, studying the truth, while at tending to some business. They went back to Safad to walk and work according to the third angel's message.

From Safad we went to Dermeemas, and held meetings. We have many friends in this town who have heard the message fully, and some who have confessed it, and are trying to walk in harmony with it. Among them is a prominent physician, who is very much interested in the truth, and desires to become acquainted with our medical work. He speaks openly of the truth as his faith, but he has not yet put it into practise fully.

While in Dermeemas, we learned that there was an old man in Elkherbe (a village near Dermeemas) who was keeping the Sabbath. We visited him, and found that he had been keeping the Sabbath for three months and a half, having heard it from us before. We were glad to see each other, and we held some meetings with him and some others. He is known as a good Christian man. We heard also that another man in a village near by was keeping the Sabbath, but we could not visit him at that time.

Soon after our return to Beirut the Presbyterians held a general conference in their university. A great many attended, especially the workers. I had opportunity to see my friends and acquaintances among them, and improved the opportunity to speak to them. The Lord even gave me a chance to speak to the whole conference, and the power of God was manifested, testifying to the spoken word, by which eyes were opened and hearts moved. After the meeting, which was the last one of the conference, many in the audience came and greeted the strange speaker, and asked

him to go and visit them in their homes.

Thus the way is open for many visits, and the Lord is helping us. He has opened a native church for me to preach in regularly on Sundays; at first some opposed it, but they are now our friends, and are interested in the truth. I visit them regularly, and I am welcome to speak to them freely. We need your prayers, brethren and sisters, that the Lord may pour out his Spirit abundantly, that the seed may grow up for his glory.

A Small School

By J. M. KEICHLINE, M. D.

J. M. KEICHLINE, M. D.

As ovens and stoves are scarce in Cairo houses, the bread is baked in large ovens belonging to German, Greek, or native bakeries, and so we have delivered to the houses the European bread (esh ef-Frangi) and the native bread (esh Arabu). There are many kinds of delivery,—hand-carts, wagons drawn by horses or donkeys, boys and men carrying large boards on their heads, loaded with the round, flat native loaves of bread, and boys and men carrying the bread in baskets.

A little boy delivers to us from a German bakery, in the last-named manner. He is only thirteen, small for his age, speaks with a slight lisp, and is a veritable little philosopher, and talks like a man of great experience. Unlike most boys, he never once asked for bakshish (extra money for himself), but has acted in such a kind, polite way that he has won my interest and love. He brought us a fine little native boy servant, who also is very willing and lovable, and who has very cleanly habits.

As neither of these two knew the alphabet, I began to teach them. The little bread-boy is the more clever, and can now write his alphabet; and by the time this reaches you, he will be able to spell and read small words, and add and subtract. To-night he was telling me how he and all other native children eat—when they have the chance—food difficult of digestion, and in great excess, and during all the day. He was quite ill, but by following my advice has nearly recovered; and you may be sure he is teaching others more proper ways of cooking and eating. He was very anxious to have me know that he is much stronger and works harder than before.

He is improving, mentally and physically. I am also teaching him true religion. I am very proud of my little school; for my results are much better than in the elementary schools which were inspected last year, when it was found that out of seventy-eight thousand pupils nearly half did not know the alphabet, one half could not read and write, and nearly two thirds could not add and subtract in the hundreds.

Of course I can not teach regularly, for some evenings I am busy; but I try to give these two children, and sometimes three of them, lessons three times a week. My Arab friends laugh when they see me teach Arabic to these native boys. But I do not laugh—I wish I could teach all the little boys of Egypt.

In the elementary schools many do not know their alphabet, but all can repeat chapters from the Koran—and also learn many bad habits. They are taught by illiterate sheiks, many of whom are blind, and all they know is their Koran, which they have memorized.

These little Egyptian children are cunning and bright. But when their education stops as they are just beginning to read and write, and they are then left to their own resources, without any encouragement to higher ideals, do you wonder that they become ignorant, superstitious fanatics?

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