Earlier text: MAN'S FORGIVENESSPOWERLESS IN OURSELVES.
By J. E. C.
In a certain neighborhood a wealthy man owned several machines, and for a long time had been threshing all the small grain that grew for miles around. On account of his wealth and his long, successful experience in his business, he was able to guarantee satisfaction and no delays in his contracts. His son assisted him, and he became skilled and successful while under his father's management. There came a time however, when, on account of his skill, the son grew wise in his own eyes, and he thought if he were manager he could do the work a great deal faster and better. For a long time he thought over his bright plans, becoming more and more dissatisfied with the restraints placed upon him by his father, until, finally, he determined to break away from all control and organize and manage a business of his own, in which he could try any changes he desired. He used all his money and credit to secure a thresher and engine, took a large contract, promising to forfeit its value if he did not give satisfaction, and went to work. Alas, for his bright hopes for the future, his pride, and his plans! The first hour of his boasted improvement brought him entire failure. His machinery in all its important parts—both separator and power—was broken beyond his ability to repair; and he found himself moneyless, and with a heavy debt on his hands. He was ruined. His father, hearing of his disaster, and unmindful of his ingratitude and impatience when under parental restraint, came to him to offer him assistance. The broken machinery showed that the warnings he had given were wise. The father now offers new machinery throughout to his unhappy son, but with this condition: his own well-tried plans must be adopted and faithfully followed in the future. Could he consistently grant such aid on any other conditions? What will the ruined son now do? He sees himself disabled. Even if supplied with a new thresher, his engine—his power—is entirely unfit to perform the work required, being broken. Will he proudly refuse to acknowledge his fault, and cling to his own fancied wisdom, and through life suffer the discomfort and disgrace his folly has wrought? or will he, like an honest man, confess his folly and ingratitude to his father, receive his favors, and enjoy the prosperity which will follow? This imperfectly pictures the case of the unconverted person in the sight of our Heavenly Father. Even if we were whole again, we have no power to do the work,—to live lives of holiness. I know, O Lord, that the way of man is not in his own power; it is not in man that passeth away to direct his own steps. Jer. 10: 23, Jewish Version. Our Father offers to make us new creatures, and to give us his own power to enable us to perform life's duties perfectly. Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth. Isa. 45: 22. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, . . . that we should walk in them. Eph. 2: 10. Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation. 1 Peter 1: 5. Shall we allow our vanity and pride to control us, causing our lives to end in sorrow and disgrace? or shall we, like honest creatures, break our proud hearts, confess our faults, and be received into the confidence of our dear Father's family, adopting his ways and accepting his power so freely offered? His ways are perfect. His plans are tried. The power he offers is almighty. Full written directions for using the power he gives are furnished in his holy word. THE prophet of God, eight hundred years before Christ, declared that the nations of earth would beat their plowshares into swords and pruning hooks into spears, the weak would declare himself to be strong, and that even the heathen would be prepared for the battle of that "great day." See Joel 3: 9-16. The following from the San Francisco Examiner of recent date presents a fulfillment of the ancient prophet, right in the face of the peace and safety cry of the false prophets:— How far can Europe go in her preparations for war without running up against universal bankruptcy? When the enormous armaments are considered, it would seem that the end cannot be very far ahead. The new German army bill increases the "peace effective" to 492,068 men. The total German war force, trained in arms, and liable to be called out under the new law if it is put in operation, is 4,400,000. Russia has a war strength of 4,556,000 already trained. France boasts 4,103,000 ready for service if called out, and a "peace strength" of 570,603. Austria-Hungary has 2,000,000 trained men, and keeps 324,000 of them under arms. France has spent on her army since the close of the war of 1870-71, the enormous total of $3,075,000,000. The other countries have spent in like proportion. The army appropriations of the powers run from $113,000,000 for France to $60,000,000 for Austria-Hungary. The total annual military expense of Europe is not far from $500,000,000. The number of men kept constantly under arms by the European powers is near 2,500,000. The total number prepared for war is 18,000,000. The mischief and expense are not told by the annual cost of the armaments. There is, besides, the loss of the services of the men kept under arms. Two and a half millions of men are withdrawn from productive industry. So far as the wealth of the country is concerned, they are maintained in idleness. Europe loses by the war fury not only the cost of keeping them but likewise the amount that they would produce if kept at work. Where is it to stop? In 1880 the war strength of Europe was reckoned at 12,000,000 men. In twelve years it has increased to 18,000,000. Every increase has been demanded for the purpose of insuring peace. Yet peace is no more stable now than when the mad race to arm was begun. Italy has reached the limit of her resources. She remains a member of the Triple Alliance, but can do no more than now. The government is practically bankrupt. Austria-Hungary is in nearly the same condition. France shows the strain of her burdens in the annual deficit in her treasury and the annual increase in the greatest debt that the world ever saw. Russia has yet great reserves of men, but her finances are in a deplorable condition. With a debt of nearly $3,500,000,000, an unredeemed and unredeemable paper currency, and an annual deficit, the Russian Government has just failed to float a new loan. The European governments are approaching the point where something must give way. It is a contest of money, a test of which can stand the drain the longest. The smash must come in one way or another. There may be a general agreement to disarm. Possibly some power will seek a road out of the difficulty by war, as the shortest way of disposing of a burden that has become intolerable. MY HIDING PLACE.
By Mrs. M. J. Bahler
WHAT matters though the wild winds sweep
Across earth's weary way?
Securely resting in my Tower
Night gleams like cloudless day. Secure I rest in trustful peace;
No fears disturb my breast;
I know my Tower a fortress is
Where foes can ne'er molest. "Tower of the flock;" no ravening wolf
Can find an entrance here;
I hear their howls, and see their rage,
But know no trembling fear. A stronghold in the day of woe
This Tower will ever be;
Safe hiding place. O fainting souls,
Quick to this shelter flee. Blest "Rock of Ages," towering o'er
The angry sea of life,
The sheltered cleft within thy breast
Knows not the cank'ring strife. So here I hide me in sweet rest,
Praising the God above
For this strong Tower of sure defense,
Blest token of his love. A poor woodcutter in the Hartz Mountains, whose children needed a Bible to use at school, bought for a few cents a very shabby copy, which they took home every night to let their father have the pleasure of reading after his hard day's work. Once, while thus reading the Book of books by the flickering light of a wretched oil lamp, he found two pages pasted together, and when he had carefully separated them, there lay a hundred thaler bill, with a slip of paper on which was written: "This money is intended for the pious reader who seeks instruction from this book. May it bring a blessing." To the poor woodcutter the sum was a little fortune.—Selected. LET IN THE LIGHT.
By Dr. Edmond
Suppose you were in a dark room in the morning, the shutters closed and fastened, and only as much light coming through the chinks as made you aware it was day outside. And suppose you should say to a companion with you, "Let us open the windows, and let in the light." What would you think if he replied, "No, no, you must first put the darkness out or the light will not enter?" You would laugh at his absurdity. Just so, we cannot put sin out of our hearts to prepare for His entering; we must open and take Him in, and sin will flee. Fling the window open and let Christ shine in.—Dr. Edmond. THE following incident illustrates a poor boy's idea of a true lady. As a young lady walked hurriedly down one of our city streets upon a bleak November day, her attention was attracted to a deformed boy coming toward her carrying several bundles. He was thinly clad, twisted his limbs most strangely as he walked, and looked before him with a vacant stare. Just before the cripple reached the quick pedestrian, he stumbled, thus dropping one bundle, which broke and emptied a string of sausages on the sidewalk. The richly dressed ladies(?) near by held back their silken skirts and whispered quite audibly, "How horrid!" while several who passed by, amused by the boy's look of blank dismay, gave vent to their feelings in a half91 suppressed laugh, and then went on without taking further interest. All this increased the boy's embarrassment. He stooped to pick up the sausages, only to let fall another parcel, when, in despair, he stood and looked at his lost spoils. In an instant the bright-faced stranger stepped to the boy's side, and said in a tone of thorough kindness:— "Let me hold those other bundles while you pick up what you have lost." In dumb astonishment the cripple handed all he held to the young Samaritan, and devoted himself to securing his cherished sausages. When these were again strongly tied in the coarse, torn paper, her skillful hands replaced the parcels on his scrawny arms, as she bestowed on him a smile of encouragement, and said:— "I hope you haven't far to go." The young fellow seemed scarcely to hear the girl's pleasant words, but, looking at her with the same vacant stare, he asked:— "I hope so; I try to be," was the surprised response. "I was kind of hoping you wasn't." "Why?" asked the listener, with curiosity quite aroused. "'Cause I've seen such as call themselves ladies, but they never spoke kind and pleasant like, 'cepting to grand uns. I guess there is two kinds—them as thinks they's ladies and isn't, and them as what tries to be and is."—Selected. THE BAKER'S SERMON.
By Sally Campbell
"It is all very well to talk; but he doesn't know anything about it!" And Mary Brette gave an extra hard wring to the dishcloth, to lend emphasis to her words. "What's the use," she went on, "of telling me to convert the neighborhood, when it takes every bit of time and strength I have to keep things going right here at home? They are dreadfully material things, I know, that perish with the using; they don't save anybody's soul; but they have to be attended to just the same, and there's only so much of any one girl, I suppose. You can't do general housework, and go out into the highways and hedges and compel them to come in, at the same time. I must get mother's lunch next. It seems to me it's been about half a minute since she had her breakfast. The whole morning is gone and not half the work done." In spite of her hurry and impatience, the thin slices of toast were very carefully browned, the egg cooked to a turn, and the tea just of that clear amber which Mrs. Brette liked. It was a very dainty meal which she carried up to the sick room, and silently arranged on the little table by her mother's bed. This done, she crossed over to the window and stood looking moodily out. Mrs. Brette's appetite was not very great, and the sight of Mary's clouded face did not increase it. "I am sorry that my little girl has to work so hard," she said, with a sigh, when she had finished. "Oh, some people are meant to be drudges!" was the not very gracious answer. She smoothed the invalid's rumpled pillows and sheets, drew the blinds together where the afternoon sun was beginning to shine in, and opened the other window, brought her a fan and a book, asked whether she wanted anything more, and then went back to her work. Presently Ben came in with a rip in his baseball. "Say, sis, couldn't you take a wink of time and sew this rip up for me? If I leave it, it will spread like the measles." "As if I didn't have enough to do already!" said Mary fretfully, taking it from his hand with a jerk. "If I just could get through one day without anything extra turning up!" However, she mended the ball for him very long. Daisy was her next visitor. "Willis has invited me to her house in St. Maris, and I tried to fix myself and disturbing you. But I guess I made a mistake, didn't I?" "I should say so," said Mary, looking at the zigzag row of buttons down her small sister's back and at the almost equally zigzag plait of hair. "Of course you can't go that way." Daisy had brought the brush and comb with her as a precautionary measure, and Mary proceeded to remedy her toilet with no gentle hand. "How on earth did you get so many tangles? Please, next time, don't try experiments. It gives twice as much trouble in the end." "I don't care. You needn't be so cross, and you needn't pull my head off. I was just trying to help you." So the day went on. In the afternoon Mr. Thomas, the baker, who had been bringing bread to the house on week days and sitting in front of her in church on Sundays ever since Mary could remember, came with his usual quota of loaves. "Well, Miss Mary," he said, "how are things moving up this way to-day?" "You don't say! Why, now, I kind of thought they'd be different." "Why?" asked Mary, surprised. "On account of the sermon we had yesterday. That was an elegant sermon, wasn't it?" "Preaching like that ought to awaken us every one up to do our duty better, seems to me." Mary's only answer was a sigh. Mr. Thomas looked at her for a moment, with shrewd, kind eyes. "After I got home from hearing that sermon yesterday morning, I says to myself: 'You're only a plain working man. Your business is to bake bread, and to take it around to your customers, and when that's over with, you don't get many hours off in the week. But never mind about that; don't you be so foolish as to let it worry you a mite. All you've got to do is to do your duty. No person can do that but what he helps along somehow. Maybe you don't just see how, but God does, and that's enough. He wants missionaries to China and India very bad, but he don't want you for one; he wants you for a baker. So, now, don't you go to spoiling your vocation by any kind of discontent or crankiness. Live right up to it. Do your duty, my man; that's the idea every time, and it's a good one to come back to over and over. But look out that you do it from a spirit of love and not from a spirit of bondage. It's awful wicked to take the beauty out of goodness so. It's like passing round an ugly picture of a handsome lady. The folks that see that aren't going to believe much in her looks. And you don't want anyone believing less in the loveliness of the Almighty from the likeness you're giving them of him.' That was what I said to myself, and I guess I was right, wasn't I, Miss Mary?" "Why, Mr. Thomas," said Mary, with almost the first smile that had visited her face that day, "I like your sermon better than I did the minister's." "Now you're laughing at me," said Mr. Thomas, picking up his big basket. "Now I'm going." After this the days went on as before, with a difference. "Mamie," said Ben, sitting on the edge of the kitchen table one Saturday morning, and watching Mary mix a cake at the other end, "it strikes me that the train that's taking you to the kingdom runs lots smoother than it used to. It takes an up grade or slips round a curve now any time as if it liked it. You must have been greasing the machinery with something, haven't you?" "I've tried," said Mary meekly. "It needed it;" and then, getting flushed and excited, "Do you really mean it, Ben?" "Fact," said Ben, with an energetic nod which nearly toppled him off the table. "There are so many flowery beds of ease round this place nowadays that, if a fellow isn't careful, he'll be carried to the skies on one of them sometime, in spite of himself." There was a little silence, and then Mary said softly:— "Ben, why don't you start?" Ben whistled, looked all around the room and out into the shed, plunged his hand into his pocket, drew up a varied assortment of objects, which he scrutinized closely, cleared his throat, and answered:— "I guess I will."—The Advance. "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."—Phil. 4:8. SEND the children to bed with a kiss and a smile;
Sweet childhood will tarry at best but a while,
And soon they will pass from the portals of home,
The wilderness ways of their life work to roam.
Yes, tuck them in bed with a gentle "good-night;"
The mantle of shadows is veiling the light;
And, maybe—God knows—on this sweet little face
May fall deeper shadows in life's weary race. Yes, say it, "God bless my dear children, I pray."
It may be the last you will say it for aye;
The night may be long ere you see them again,
And motherless children may call you in vain;
Drop sweet benedictions on each little head,
And fold them in prayer as they nestle in bed;
A guard of bright angels around them invite,
Whose names kiss the shores of the land of no night.
—Selected. When Xerxes invaded Greece with his army of a million men, he paused at Mount Athos. Dreading the damage which might be wrought if he attempted to sail around the stormy promontory, he had a canal cut through the narrowest part of the isthmus which connects Mount Athos with the mainland. This is familiar to all schoolboys and readers of ancient history. Traces of that canal have been found in recent times. There were in the times of Greek glory some villages on the peninsula of which Mount Athos is the lofty termination, but they make no figure in history. Mount Athos is of pure white marble, about seven thousand feet high. The whole peninsula abounds in most romantic and picturesque scenery. Waterfalls leap down the verdant sides of the mountains, groves of odoriferous trees perfume the air, lovely valleys invite to repose, and every prospect is more beautiful than the last. Over all is the blue sky that poets in every age have delighted to praise, and the Ægean is in view from every side. On this peninsula there are said to be nearly a thousand churches, chapels, and oratories, and between two and three thousand monks and hermits. In the monasteries, which are built on the sides of the mountain range running the length of the peninsula, are libraries of great value, especially rich in illuminated manuscripts. But the monks seem not to know much of the contents of the books and rolls which they preserve so carefully. The earliest reference to these monasteries is 885 A.D., when a decree was passed forbidding any molestation of the "holy hermits" residing in them. During the Middle Ages many new monasteries were built; some of them have fallen into decay, and none of them seem to contain the numbers they are large enough to accommodate. The monks cultivate the soil in the valleys and in the gardens of such of the monasteries as have gardens. There is not a woman allowed on the peninsula, and many of the monks know the face of women only from the paintings in their churches of the Virgin Mary, and some woman patron of the monastery whose face is in their illuminated books.—Selected. INSEPARABLY connected with the subject of heating is that of ventilation—a topic of vast moment, and one which in its broader lines engages the attention of leading scientists of the world. But for the dwelling house the matter need not be a complicated one. It cannot be too constantly impressed upon those who would live long and happily that the very first requisite for that consummation is pure air. Let this air, if possible, be of a comfortable temperature, but at any rate let it be pure. And yet the matter of ventilation is subject to abuse. A stream of colder air, amounting practically to a draft, pouring down upon the heads of the inmates of an apartment, is not ventilation—it is an invitation to colds, catarrhal affections, and all the deadly evils which follow in their train. Fresh air can be admitted almost anywhere, in sufficient volume to replace all the vitiation and consumption, without the creation of a draft or annoyance to even the most sensitive. It should not come, as is sometimes the case with the hot-air furnace, from a musty cellar, but should be taken from without, in such manner that it shall be as free as possible from contamination. The details of such arrangement necessarily vary so much, and will depend so much upon individual circumstances, that few inflexible rules can be laid down, and it is not the method upon which results will depend. A window slightly raised, with such provision that the incoming cool air shall not rush in a compact column across the room, will give the supply of oxygen which the human lungs require, as certainly as the most elaborate "system" which has ever been devised, though the operation may not be quite so convenient. THE only high school in Iceland is at Seykjasik, and it has been in operation for over a year. The principal subjects taught are Icelandic in its grammar and literature, Danish, English, Slojd wood carving, arithmetic, and singing, to which from two to eight hours a week are devoted; but the foremost place in the educational system is given to tailoring, by which the hours from ten to two are occupied during four days a week. This is because there are no tailors in Iceland, and that the women must make the men's clothes as well as their own. Cooking is also practically taught.—Chicago Herald. A "SUBSCRIBER" asks, "What will get rid of bedbugs?" I have recently discovered by experimenting (probably somebody else knew it long ago) that gasoline is "sudden death" to bedbugs and all other insect pests, so far as I have tested. Do not hesitate to pour it freely over the infested wall or bedstead, as it penetrates the tiniest crevice, and evaporates quickly without injuring furniture, wall paper, or anything else. Of course it must not be used near a fire, neither should a lamp be lighted until the room has been well ventilated.—The Voice. "My wife is a professor of religion," said a healthy and apparently sensible man of the world, "and I am standing off to see what good it is doing her." The exquisite meanness of the remark escaped his blunted faculties of perception. Is it the wife's business to have and exhibit all the religion in the family? The husband who does not realize that he also ought to lay to and give her all possible help, is a selfish churl. If his wife were rowing a boat against a stiff current, and her life depended on the result, would it be wise or manly for him to sit on the bank of the stream and coolly pass judgment on the skill of her strokes? And yet this is just about what some husbands are doing. Shame on such thoroughgoing smallness of soul!—Selected. "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God."—1 Cor. 10:31. STARTLING FACTS.
By J. O. Beard
THE SIGNS OF THE TIMES has often pointed out to its readers the injurious effects of tobacco upon the human system. These evil effects are well known, and publicly declared by many of the ablest physicians of the land. Scientists have again and again pointed out the shattered nerves, the flabby muscles, the palpitating heart, the unsteady hand, the dulled ear, the faded eye from the use of the weed. Many newspapers, preachers, teachers, and public lecturers cry aloud in warning against its insidious effects upon the delicate machinery of the human body. Parents object to their sons learning to use it. Most churches object to their members using it, and at least one church entirely prohibits its use. Many colleges and academies prohibit its use by their students; and the United States Government will not receive into either its military or its naval school those who use the weed, or are diseased by a previous use of it. Yet, notwithstanding all this outcry and warning, its use not only continues, but increases at a truly startling rate. As an evidence that such is the case look at the following table, which is taken from the books of the Internal Revenue Collector for the St. Louis district:— 1878..........................................5,890,801 lbs.
1879..........................................8,670,466 “
1880..........................................12,889,784 “
1881..........................................17,234,869 “
1882..........................................17,170,190 “
1883..........................................23,835,729 “
1884..........................................22,631,104 “
1885..........................................28,517,401 “
1886..........................................32,448,936 “
1887..........................................40,284,675 “
1888..........................................40,009,303 “
1889..........................................44,964,667 “
1890..........................................52,452,852 “ These figures are furnished by a firm that is perhaps the largest manufacturer of tobacco in St. Louis. No doubt the Louisville district and others would show a like increase. The population of the United States increases at the rate of about two and five-tenths per cent. per annum. But this table shows an increase for the time specified in the table thirty times greater than that of the population. And the circular above referred to says that the sales in 1891, and for the present year, will show about the same increase. These facts are indeed startling; and if the wheels of time should continue to roll, when would the limit be reached, and what would that limit be? THE MAINE LAWS.
By Governor Burleigh
I DO believe that, under the wise laws that have been enacted in Maine for the suppression of the liquor traffic, the use of intoxicating liquors has vastly decreased. It is no longer a leading article of commerce at every grocery store; it is no longer included in the hospitalities of every kind of social event, from a corn husking to a grand ball. It is no longer a reputable and legitimate article of trade. To-day one can walk the streets of any Maine city without seeing a single shop window filled with intoxicants to invite and tempt our young men to ruin. The traffic that once flaunted itself in the public gaze has been driven into dark corners. Popular sentiment and constitutional law are alike arrayed against it. It is carried on by stealth, in fear and in secret, behind barred doors, and with every device that ingenuity can invent to avoid the vigilance of the officers charged with the enforcement of the law.—Governor Burleigh, of Maine. THERE are persons who are amused by the grotesque antics and absurd acts of drunken men, but the drunkards they laugh at are not members of their own families. It is no joke to have a man or child come home drunk; and what wonder is it that a man, finding his son in a drunken stupor, should gird on the armor to fight a traffic which can work such horrible results. And it is well to remember one thing: if it is not your boy who is drunk, it is somebody's boy.—The Christian. THIS is the way the New Jersey Temperance Gazette puts it: "If prohibitory laws are wrong in principle, then all license laws are wrong in principle, as every license law implies prohibition; all are prohibited who do not obtain license. If it is right to prohibit 299 men from selling rum, why is it wrong to prohibit the 300th man? The principle of prohibition is the same under the license system to all except licensed venders as it is under a universal prohibitory law, inasmuch as all are prohibited from selling except those to whom license is granted." THERE is not one man or woman in ten thousand who can afford to do without seven or eight hours' sleep. All those stories written about great men and women who slept only three or four hours a night make very interesting reading; but I tell you, my readers, no man or woman ever yet kept healthy in body and mind for a number of years with less than seven hours' sleep. Americans need more sleep than they are getting. This lack makes them so nervous, and the insane asylums so populous. If you can get to bed early, then rise early. If you cannot get to bed till late, then rise late.—Talmage. THE GOSPEL AND OTHER RELIGIONS.
By Editor
THE following, under the above heading, is taken from the Independent of June 16; it gives a good though brief review of the present condition of the religious world:— Three facts of great importance and significance to the work of foreign missions are now prominently before the churches. The Brahmins of India are considering the wisdom of admitting pariahs to caste privileges; the mandarins of China are again instigating the circulation of the outrageous placards that led to the riots in the Yang-Tse Valley; the Moslem Government is seeking by every means to circumscribe the work of the missionaries both in teaching and preaching. Similar reports come from other fields—in Uganda, in West Africa, in the South Pacific. What does all this indicate? In a certain sense there can be no crisis in missions. They never reach a point beyond which their work becomes easier. On the contrary, with every vantage point gained, new difficulties, new opposition will become apparent. In another sense each new phase constitutes a crisis. Such an experience is now upon the church. At no time has there been such a stirring among the great religions which for centuries have dominated Asia. Mohammedanism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Confucianism are recognizing that in the new faith which has come to them from the West they are meeting a power that will overcome them unless they can by some means stop the headway they see it making among their followers. Missionaries, too, realize that they are approaching what will prove an even harder fight than any before in their effort to establish the religion of Christ in India, China, and the Levant. It becomes, then, of paramount importance that every step be taken wisely. The people of these lands may be, for missionary purposes, divided into four classes: Those who recognize spiritual need and are dissatisfied with their old faiths and ready to accept a new one; those so closely identified with the old faiths, whether by belief or self-interest, that they are bound to uphold them; those who have little or no religious belief of any sort and look upon the various systems merely as means to the end of national and social well being; those who, with true oriental conservatism, accept the doctrines of their fathers, and look with dread on any invasion that threatens them. This last class contains the immense majority of the people. To it both missionaries and hierarchies of whatever name look for support. So far it has been greatly affected by Christianity, but as one by one converts have been drawn from its numbers, it is becoming evident not only to the leaders, but to the people themselves, that the power of the old faiths has been already seriously undermined. It is not that these millions are yet anxiously waiting for the gospel, far from it, but the number among them who are reaching out after the truth as it is in Jesus is not only great but widely scattered. The wonderful sales of Scriptures, too, and the wide diffusion of European manners and customs, recognized as the outcome of Christianity, have been seeds whose fruit is already apparent, so that there are few places where there is not some knowledge about, if not of, the gospel. It is significant that at just this time comes the proposal for a parliament of religions in connection with the Columbian Exposition at Chicago, next year. What effect it may have cannot easily be told. One thing is certain, Christianity will be on trial as never before. From every quarter of the world there will come men to see for themselves the results of the religion of our missionaries, in a land where it has had every advantage. The reading of papers, the discussions of a few hours will be of comparatively little value beside the great object lesson of a Christian nation. We have sent out our heralds to proclaim the gospel. Now those to whom they have gone will come to judge for themselves as to our sincerity in sending them. A manifestation of Christian life here will do more to move the masses there than all the sermons of our preachers. A conviction forced upon these representatives from the Eastern world that we ourselves care little for the truth that we preach to them, may set back the cause of missions many years. Let us see to it that at this time, when so much is at stake abroad, we be not found wanting at home. LEPROSY IN LAOS, SIAM.
By E. B. M'Gilvary
BY THE REV. E. B. M'GILVARY. [Missionary of the Presbyterian Board.] ONE of the most constant drains upon one's pity here is the omnipresent leper. Go where you will about the city, you will be almost sure to see one or more of these miserable unfortunates making his rounds begging. There is practically no quarantine put on the disease, except in the matter of permanent dwelling. Here and there villages are set apart for their use, and all lepers are presumably required to live in these villages. But there is absolute freedom of egress. In fact, it is necessary that they should be allowed to go where they will in search of food and clothing so long as the authorities make no provision for them. In front of my house, less than a stone's throw from the bank, there is a small island, and, except at highest water, some three or four boats full of lepers are always to be seen. They come up from the leper village some distance below, Chieng-Mai, and make this island the basis of their begging operations. Those who have no boats come afoot. It would be hard to say how many are in and about the city every day, but many times I have seen as many as seventy collected outside the gate of some missionary's house, waiting for some charity. Those that thus come are in all stages of the disease—the little nursling, sometimes as healthy looking as any babe can be, sometimes already showing signs of blood taint; little boys and girls, some with very attractive faces, some already loathsome in deformity; young men and maidens, and the aged, some without eyes, ears, nose, fingers, or toes, just a mass of living putrefaction. They come just as long as they can move their suffering bodies. And nobody here thinks of fearing them. So utterly foolhardy are the natives in their contact with these lepers that many sound persons go to live in the leper villages, in constant touch with the diseased, merely to enjoy the immunities from government impress that are accorded to the inhabitants of these villages. When there is such gross carelessness, it is unnecessary to say that there is no attempt made to lessen the dangers of contamination. The barefooted leper with festering feet walks across the bridge, and his track is followed by thousands of other barefooted passengers. He takes his change in his mutilated hands and buys food; the money finds its way into everybody's house—the coppers of the realm are leprous coppers. There are hundreds of ways in which the contagion is spread, and the disease attacks new families every year, and the authorities do nothing. It would cost them too much money to seclude, and feed, and clothe the hundreds of victims, and the common people have to bear the burden of supporting by alms a pitifully large and pitifully suffering class, who give nothing but disease in return.—The Independent. "Cast thy bread upon the waters; for thou shalt find it after many days."-Eccl. 11:1. THE ANSWERED PRAYER.
By Emily Tolman
I PRAYED that I the love of Christ might know,
And little dreamed for what I made my prayer.
Could he on me this priceless boon bestow?
Could I know love like his so passing fair?
Who would such wondrous grace attain
Must tread, like him, a path of pain. He showed me those I counted friends could sleep
In midst of my most dread Gethsemane;
That they for whom my yearning heart would weep,
In selfish fear could flee, nor think of me;
And said, "Wilt thou my suffering share,
Thou shalt find answer to thy prayer." A crown of thorns was placed upon my head;
They pressed it hard upon my bleeding brow.
"'Tis ever thus that men crown love," he said;
"A little of my love thou may'st know now.
In patience, then, this chaplet wear,
And thus find answer to thy prayer." And yet my love grew still more deep and strong,
Till day and night I raised one ceaseless cry:
"Forgive, and lay not to their charge this wrong;
Oh, save these, Lord, though for them I should
die!"
"That thou," he said, "the cross would'st bear,
Is proof that thou my love dost share." And now I thank him for the lesson sweet,
The lesson learned through sacrifice and pain,
Since it has brought me nearer to his feet—
Nor count the loss for the far greater gain.
In heart enriched with treasure rare
I find the answer to my prayer.
—Sel. Nothing Better Than Christ
A FRIEND reproached Dr. Judson for speaking only of Christ to an American audience, saying, "They have heard that before; they wanted something new from a man who has just come from the antipodes." "Then," said Judson, "I am glad to have it to say that a man from the antipodes had nothing better to tell them than the wondrous story of the dying love of Christ. When I looked upon these people to-day, and remembered where I should meet them, how could I furnish food for vain curiosity, tickle their fancy with amusing stories, however strung together on a thread of religion? and how could I hereafter meet the fearful charge: 'I gave you one opportunity to tell them of Me, and you spent it in describing your own adventures'?'"—Sel. Evangelizing Central Africa
A MISSIONARY of the Baptist Kongo Mission says that there is an area in Central Africa larger than the whole continent of Europe, by 4,000 square miles, in which there is not a single missionary, and also that the center of Africa cannot be permanently evangelized by white men, but that the greater part of the work will have to be done by natives themselves, and that they are showing their fitness for the work.