ADAM was created a son of God (Luke 3:38), the highest position to which any being can attain. His completed creation, which included the gift of God's life (Gen. 2:7), was the union of the Creator with his created image. The forfeiture of life on Adam's part (Gen. 2:17; 3:22-24) was the severance of the family tie, leaving the human race without hope, and “without God in the world.” But for a member of the divine family to be left in such a plight, without hope, would have been a victory for the original archdisturber of heaven's peaceful household. Moreover, it would be a challenge to the claim of the Self-existent, whose purpose in creation was of an eternal nature. Eph. 3:9-11.
So a reconciliation between God and man was necessary. In carrying out this work, the dignity and honor of Jehovah or of his law could not be compromised in any degree. Only one way, therefore, was open to effect the restoration of harmony, and that was again to elevate man to the likeness of his Creator.
To dislodge the enmity from one so “far off” from God's righteousness as sin had driven man, there was needed a new head of the race, one who would from the beginning master the situation which caused the fall of the first father of the divine-human family. Such a purpose was pursued in a second Adam (1 Cor. 15:45), in whom all the fulness of God should dwell. Col. 2:9. To him was committed the mysterious plan of reconciliation, by which things in both heaven and earth could be harmonized as they were before Satan first began his controversy in the celestial courts. To do this there must be such a radical change in man's present nature as would lift him above his earthly mold, and give him, before heaven's throne, an unblamable and unreprovable character. Col. 1:19-22.
The accomplishment of such a difficult process would not only subject the second Adam to the Adamic nature and the same rigid test as the first Adam met, but he must also take on himself the accumulated sins entailed by the first Adam's failure, and meet the penalty thereof. Isa. 53:6. So, inasmuch as death was the result of the original sting of sin (1 Cor. 15:56), the second Adam must not only succeed in the thing where the first one failed, but in addition he must taste death for every descendant of the first Adam (Heb. 2:9).
All this was and is required by the law of redemption. But this law also recognized that some one of near kin was the proper person to redeem him who had fallen under adversity. Lev. 25:25; Ruth 3:12, 13; Jer. 32:7. To fulfil this rule of redemptive process, it was quite necessary, therefore, for the appointed messenger of redemption to assume the nature and kinship of those whose redemption would be sought. In other words, he must become the Son of man, while yet holding the title Son of God. This union was necessary from the fact that, the design of the atonement being to relink humanity with Deity, the one who assumes to carry out the atonement plan must in himself be “God manifest in the flesh.” 1 Tim. 3:16.
Looking forward to such preparation for redemption, the prophet's eye was directed through the avenue of time until his prophetic gaze viewed the anticipated object, and he wrote: “Unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given: . . . and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” Isa. 9:6. This scripture reveals three important peculiarities necessary to the adaptation of the situation. As the promoter of peace between heaven and earth, he must stand at the head, and be followed without hesitation, as people follow their royal leader. He must be an everlasting Father through whom repentant sinners may enter the new life, being born of his endless life. In other words, he must be able to breathe into men his own life, as was the case in Adam's creation. Gen. 2:7. His work in man's behalf must then indeed be the action of a new creation (2 Cor. 5:17; Eph. 2:10), which is the true exhibition of God's mighty power.
The prophecy concerning his descent to earth in man's behalf calls his name Immanuel, that is, “God with us.” Isa. 7:14. So when he was born of the virgin, he was named Jesus, that is, Saviour, in recognition of the fulfilment of the prophecy made regarding his birth. Matt. 1:21-23.
Since man could not save himself from his awful situation, his salvation must be achieved through a higher power than the merely human. It must also be accomplished by one who had never sinned. This thought needs little comment beyond a statement of the well-understood truism that “the tendency to sin augments itself by its own action, and each transgression adds weakness to the moral nature.” For this reason no moral nature weakened by a single sin could be competent to elevate the sinner above his natural tendencies. The Redeemer of men must therefore be without sin in the least degree. 1 John 3:5.
Since man lost the divine likeness through his fall, it becomes necessary for the moral attributes of Jehovah himself, the very image and nature of himself, to be revealed through a divine Being. As a true knowledge of God is necessary to salvation (John 17:3), and as “no man hath seen God at any time” (John 1:18), none but the incarnated Son of God could reveal to men the divine character. “God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them.” 2 Cor. 5:19.
Not only does the atonement plan demand that fallen men have a perfect view of divine morals, but it is just as necessary that God's attitude toward humanity should also be known. To this end the infinite must be seen to dwell in and act through the finite. The two natures, exercised through one person, would thus manifest both God and man. Thus the divine would be seen controlling the human.
In this, Christ was to the world both the true God and the true man. In him God was manifested as he is, and man was revealed as he should be. The race had lost the knowledge of the true man, as certainly as it had lost the knowledge of God. So by faith in Christ as the world's Redeemer, one believes in the true God and the true man at one and the same time. 2 John 9.
So the human and the divine were both revealed in the life of Christ on earth. With his disciples he ate and drank as a man, yet as God he created food for the multitude. Mark 6:41. At the tomb of his beloved friend Lazarus he groaned in spirit and wept as a man, then as God his word brought Lazarus to life. John 11:34-44. At his home in Nazareth he lived and loved as a man (Luke 2:51), but on Calvary's cross he loved and died as God. John 19:26. Thus from his baptism to the cross, the power of love, both human and divine, was manifested through that mysterious and yet comprehensible Being, divinely designated as “God with us.”
Glendale, Cal.
The Bible and the Spirit of Prophecy
them. God in mercy gave the visions to instruct and guide his servants in establishing this mighty movement which is to prepare a people for Christ's coming, in this age of unbelief, infidelity, atheism, rejection of anything and everything supernatural.
The popular churches are constantly giving evidence of having discarded the Holy Scriptures as spiritual authority. The Testimonies of the Spirit in the remnant church ever emphasize the importance of the blessed Bible in all their teachings. Those writings warn our people against fanaticism, Spiritualism, so-called Christian Science, and every satanic counterfeit. The Bible is our great standard of authority. We as a people accept spiritual gifts and the spirit of prophecy because we cannot fully believe the Bible without doing so, for the Bible, as we have seen, positively declares that the spirit of prophecy will be in the last church on earth when Christ comes. Our belief in the Bible compels us to accept this statement as well as other portions of Scripture.
Bowling Green, Fla.
Watch One Little Hour
By Jessie H. Brown
One little hour of watching with the Master,
Eternal years to walk with him in white;
One little hour to bravely meet disaster,
Eternal years to reign with him in light.
Then, souls, be brave, and watch until the morrow.
Awake! arise! your lamps of purpose trim;
Your Saviour speaks across the night of sorrow;
Can ye not watch one little hour with him?
— Jessie H. Brown.
Mission Note
A THREE months’ training course has been arranged for church elders, native teachers, and Bible workers in Porto Rico. Opportunity for work among the people will be afforded during this time, so that practical experience may be gained while studying the principles of the message and better methods for service.
The Happiness of Giving
By Eugene Thwing
HAPPINESS eludes every searcher for it, but comes quickly and abundantly to the one who seeks to bestow it upon some one else. The searcher for happiness may get wealth, and power, and fame, but none of these advantages will avail anything in getting happiness. Even from friends it cannot be obtained; for happiness comes from what is given out rather than from that which is gathered in. Loving, unselfish service, the persistent, enthusiastic effort day by day to bring sweetness, light, comfort, and goodness into the lives of others, will surely bring happiness into the life of any man, woman, or child. No sorrow of heart, no doubt of the future, no restlessness or aimlessness of the present, no loneliness or bitterness of soul, but will yield and be resolved into joy and peace and purpose as soon as the days are filled with labors of love—as soon as the eagerness to get happiness is replaced by an eagerness to give it to others.—Eugene Thwing.
My Neighbors’ Ways
“Look at that!” exclaimed Mrs. Rand with a flushed, angry face, as she held out for my inspection a blue-and-brown sport coat on which was a grimy smirch. “That bear of a Driver boy,” she continued, “threw a handful of mud at Wilbert, and ruined this pretty new coat. Wilbert—of all boys! He is such a gentleman himself, and never does anything to annoy the others.”
“But, Mrs. Rand,” I began.
“Of course,” she interrupted, “the boy’s parents are to blame for his being such a boor. But I’ve taught them a lesson. Just as soon as I discovered this, I telephoned Mrs. Driver how horrid her son was, and how he ruined Wilbert’s coat. She was furious, and said he was no more to blame than Wilbert, and sputtered away over the telephone. But after I had said what I wished, I shut off. Then I called up my husband, and told him to see Mr. Driver at his office and demand reparation; and I’ve directed Wilbert not to speak to the Driver boy again. I fancy they understand plainly that they can’t destroy my son’s clothes without paying for them.”
“But, Mrs. Rand,” I suggested, “aren’t you making much of a small matter? That stain will disappear under a little soap-and-water treatment. And don’t you think it was the result of mere boys’ play, after all? And won’t you stir up hard feeling in the neighborhood?”13
“No, it was not proper boys’ play; it is wholly the Driver boy’s fault; Wilbert never plays rough and tumble. And I am perfectly willing to stir up trouble in the neighborhood righteously; I’d like to make people understand that they must teach their children manners, or pay for their neglect.” Mrs. Rand was decided and self-satisfied.
My neighbor, Mrs. Bland, when I entered her living-room, was carefully matching the ragged edges of a jagged rent in her son’s topcoat.
“That is particular work,” I said. “How did Will meet with an accident? He is so careful a boy.”
“O, somebody’s skate swinging about caught in the coat, I believe,” she answered lightly. “My expert darning and pressing will soon make the coat as good as new. I did not ask who did it. Accidents will happen when boys are playing together. I never interfere in the children’s little differences; they’re young and coltish, and are soon over troubles, if no fuss is made over them. But if parents take up a small quarrel, they magnify a childish thing, raise it into a grown-up affair, and stir up the neighborhood to hard feelings and sharp words. Once or twice, when one of the young folks has seemed to be really persistently quarrelsome, I’ve advised my boys quietly to keep away from that one; but generally the more those little scraps are passed over with scant attention, the sooner they are forgotten.”
Mrs. Weed’s pretty cottage has a kind of transient atmosphere; the curtains are fresh, and the lawn is neatly trimmed, but the green shades are often close drawn under the white curtains, and not a leaf nor a blossom adorns the empty window boxes; the furniture is sufficient and suitable, but no little homelike touches appear in the living-room, and really it seems as if the sunshine is not so bright in this house as in the other Dutch colonial cottages on this Ashdale street.
“We have just come back,” apologized Mrs. Weed as she greeted me, picked up several newspapers of previous days’ dates, removed a partly unpacked suit case from one chair, and its recent contents from another. “You see,” she continued, “I like to be with my family as much as I can; so I make Albert go home with me nearly every week. I do love to be with the folks at home.”
“Your home is here in Ashdale,” said Mr. Weed from the open door, where he stood with a perplexed expression in his eyes.
His wife looked at him with a curious smile that meant quite defiantly that she did not retract, and her lips were firmly set, while the perplexity in Mr. Weed’s face changed to bitter disappointment. I was sorry for him—and for his wife.
Mrs. Leed’s cheery living-room in the cottage next to the Weed’s was bright with sunshine, green growing plants, the gay lilting song of a canary, and Mrs. Leed’s own smiling presence.
I knew that she had just returned from a week’s visit with her parents at their splendid mansion, her first visit since her marriage, two years before; and I spoke of the pleasure it must have been.
“Yes, indeed,” she agreed; “we had the very best visit anybody ever had; the housekeeper planned to make every meal a feast of my favorite dishes that she remembered; the girls had some festivity ready for every day; and, of course, it was a joy to be with father and mother. It was a lovely week. But O, I am so glad to be at home again! Home is the very best, after all, isn’t it, Billy boy?” she asked her husband.
“Billy boy” smiled a broad, contented smile, and looked with proud, glad eyes at his wife, as he replied, “It is, sure, when it has the best little home maker of them all!”—Selected.
Bathing Beach Behavior
By MRS. I. H. E.
THE lure of the swimming hole is felt by the small boy almost before the leaves are out in spring, and it is so “catching” that practically every one not physically disabled, who can reach beach or river, lake or pool, succumbs before the hot weather is over. This fondness for the water, getting into it and conquering it, is a healthful sign. Swimming, considered simply as a recreation, heads the list of muscle-toning, body-defending exercises. It is a good thing for boys of all ages to learn to swim, and just as good for their sisters.
They will learn, too,—no need to urge where “ought” so closely parallels desire; but we do wish to say a word concerning certain proprieties which of late years seem to be rapidly disappearing from the public bathing beach.
First, as to the matter of clothes. Our sense of fitness is often outraged at the pictures of the advanced styles in bathing costumes shown spring after spring in the fashion sheets, often photographed on living models.
But though most of us are not likely to visit the fashionable resorts where such styles prevail, have not all mothers of young daughters a manifest duty to perform in seeing that their garments are of suitable material, modestly cut, and so well made that they will withstand hard usage?
It is asserted that a woman’s character is unerringly revealed by her dress; her clothes are a mirror of her mind and heart. Have you ever stopped to consider how the characters of the young girls seen at bathing resorts—yours, perhaps, among them—would be estimated, judged by this standard? Indeed, if it were not for the fact that their innocent intent is taken into consideration, how could they be placed?
But the mothers are held responsible at the unsparing bar of public opinion. “What is that girl’s mother thinking of?” is a question often asked, and one that shows plainly enough where the burden of blame is placed. “It is nothing short of a crime to allow an unthinking young girl to wear clothes that, when she goes out into the world, are the very signals of danger,” says an editorial in the Good Dressing Magazine. “She doesn’t know. How could she? But her mother does, or her father, or her brother or sister. Some older person is responsible for allowing the dangerous dress, and that some one will be directly responsible if danger comes to the girl and she goes under.”
Many of the plain, everyday people of this country have been slow to obey the social law that would provide a chaperon for every group of young people who go off for a day’s pleasure without their parents or guardians. Sometimes when chaperons have been provided, they have, as one young girl recently said in my hearing, “acted worse than the worst ones there.” This is unfortunate. Nevertheless, all are coming to agree that it is not wise, even if it were safe, to allow a company of young persons to go off by themselves on picnics or excursions, automobile rides or moonlight boat trips. A casual walk around the decks of any summer pleasure craft shows plainly why.
But suppose the young people are properly looked after,—and this does not mean as a gang of convicts herded from one place to another, but under the care of those who enter into their pleasures heartily and sympathetically,—suppose the girls are modestly and becomingly dressed, quiet in voice and ladylike in manner, is the mother’s duty done?—No; fathers and mothers who have themselves visited popular bathing beaches in recent years will agree that it is only begun. The utter unreserve, the lack of common courtesy, the freedom from all the laws that are observed when in ordinary garb, the familiarity of contact, the boldness with which young men accost girls whom they do not know, and vice versa,—all these improprieties, and more which can hardly be told, should lead mothers and fathers not only to warn their children, but to watch over them.
One word more: We see lately the “beach costume” as distinguished from the bathing costume—the former being described as more “daring” than the latter. It is undeniable that the beach does make for carelessness in dress, with its inevitable lowering of other standards of propriety. Is it, therefore, unwise to suggest that, instead of “burying one another in the sand,” lolling about on the beach, sitting under umbrellas, or strolling up and down in front of the “amusements” or along secluded paths, in swimming garb, your young people shall, when they come out of the water, put on their ordinary clothes, even if they intend to “go in” again at a later hour?
It is too late to lock the barn when the cattle are stolen; too late to insure when the building has burned; too late to inspect, and pass laws, and sound warnings when the boat with its living freight has gone down. If you would have your sons pure, your daughters modest, keep up the bars; guard against the indecent dressing that courts danger, the careless companions who corrupt, the laxness in manners that brings laxness of morals in its train. Do not take too much for granted, but, having prepared a good defense, watch lest it be overthrown.
MRS. I. H. E.
Consecration
By WORTHIE HARRIS HOLDEN
WORTHIE HARRIS HOLDEN
O GREAT and mighty God! we cannot sense
Redemption's plan, nor all the consequence
Of sin's mad strife;
But in our small arena, day by day,
O'er sin's audacious power make known thy sway
Within our life.
No grander service ever thrilled man's breast;
O may thy love each throbbing heart possess
To work thy will!
Thy Spirit only can our strength maintain;
We wait on thee, on whom none wait in vain,
For mercy still.
Teach us in greater latitude to pray,
To know God's chariots are near each day,
And boldly dare;
No service is too small, no strife too great,
To thee our little all we consecrate,
Thy grace to share.
Portland, Oregon.
The Home Life
By Mrs. I. H. Evans; Miss Lora E. Clement
Conducted by Mrs. I. H. Evans, Takoma Park, Washington, D. C.
Assisted by Miss Lora E. Clement
Through the columns of this department, hints will be given on all matters pertaining to the home life. Short articles and letters are solicited from home makers, telling of their everyday experiences,—their joys and sorrows, their failures and successes.
Scientific Jelly Making
By May McGuire Telford
JELLY making is one of the long-practiced arts, but nevertheless the failures that frequently result show that difficulties still exist.
In the process of making jelly the extracted juice should be boiled rapidly, and never allowed to simmer. If it is allowed to stand for some time before the jelly is made, fermentation sets in.
There is only one certain method to tell just how much sugar to add—to use the sirup gauge which has graduations, and the fruit juice contains just enough sugar when it reads twenty-five degrees. If the reading is above twenty-five degrees, more unsweetened fruit juice must be added, and if below twenty-five degrees, more sugar must be added. As the cost of the gauge is less than a dollar, no housewife who makes much jelly can afford to be without it.
It is nearly always wise to boil the juice in small amounts—say a quart or less. The wide-bottomed, shallow preserving kettle serves best, as it permits free evaporation from a large surface. In many cases results are more certain if the sugar is heated in the oven before it is added to the boiling juice; this prevents cooling and longer heating. As the boiling progresses, the jelly may be tested by pouring a few spoonfuls in a saucer to cool. As soon as a sample hardens, the remainder should at once be poured into glasses. The glasses should be stored in a cool, dry place when the paraffin cover hardens.
Jellies naturally fall into two classes; currant and apple jelly are good types of the two. Currants do not require the addition of water, while apples do.
Currant Jelly
Remove the stems, wash the currants carefully, place them in a preserving kettle, and mash them with a wooden potato masher. Place the kettle over a slow fire; as soon as the currants are heated through, pour them into a jelly bag, suspend the bag, and without applying pressure allow the juice to drain overnight into an earthen crock. In the morning measure the juice, place it on the stove in a clean preserving kettle, and bring it rapidly to a boil. Then add as much sugar as there was currant juice. Continue the boiling until the tested juice hardens; this usually requires not more than two minutes. Pour the jelly at once into jelly glasses, and when it has hardened, cover it with melted paraffin.
Apple Jelly
Select a variety of apples that produces good jelly. Cut them into small pieces without removing the cores, place them in a clean preserving kettle, cover them with water, and boil them until they are thoroughly cooked.
Pour both fruit and juice into a jelly bag, and allow draining to take place overnight without pressure. In the morning put the extracted juice into a clean preserving kettle and quickly bring it to a boil. Continue the boiling ten minutes, or longer, depending upon the amount of water that was added. When the juice has boiled down to half the original quantity, measure it and add an equal amount of granulated sugar. Continue the boiling until the tested juice hardens. Then pour at once into jelly glasses.
Grape Jelly
Select grapes not too sweet nor too ripe. Wash the bunches carefully and remove the fruit from the stems. Put the grapes into the preserving kettle, add a little water to prevent scorching, and boil them until they burst open. Place them in a jelly bag and allow the juice to drain without pressure. Measure the extracted juice, add an equal amount of sugar, and cook rapidly in a porcelain kettle, skimming and testing frequently. When it hardens, pour it at once into jelly glasses.
If a light-colored jelly of mild flavor is desired, an equal amount of apple juice extracted from tart apples may be added to the grape juice. If the jelly does not become firm quickly, a little vinegar or lemon juice may be added.—May McGuire Telford, in the Pictorial Review.
Work Brings Sunshine Home
“If you would have sunlight in your home,” writes Stopford Brooke, “see that you have work in it; that you work yourself, and set others to work. Nothing makes moroseness and heavy-heartedness in a home so fast as idleness. The very children gloom and sulk if they are left with nothing to do. If all have their work, they have not only their own joy in creating thought, in making thought into form, in driving on something to completion, but they have the joy of ministering to the movement of the whole house, when they feel that what they do is part of a living whole. That in itself is sunshine. See how the face lights up, how the step is quickened, how the whole man or child is a different being from the weary, aimless, lifeless, complaining being who had no work! It is all the difference between life and death.”
The Blessings of Keeping God’s Law
“My son, forget not my law; but let thine heart keep my commandments: for length of days, and long life, and peace, shall they add to thee.”
Mount Carey, Jamaica
By Alfred Taylor
THIS church, as a center of light, was planted here in the year 1903, as a result of a tent effort carried on under the united labors of Elders W. H. Randle and M. Jones. Prior to their coming here, my eldest brother and a brother from the Kingston church conversed freely with me on the subject of present truth. I did not pay much attention to what they said, but when the tent came, and the various phases of the truth were explained more fully, the voice of the Spirit pleaded in so solemn a tone that no really honest heart could resist its convicting influence. I am one of the many who are now rejoicing in the truth as a result of this tent effort. The stay of the tent was short, but before it left, a temporary structure was quickly built, which has given place to the more permanent building in which we now worship.
Our thirteen years of spiritual experience has been one of growth and development in spite of the dragon’s ire and hatred. Though mistakes were made, yet we made them stepping-stones as our eyes rested upon the eternal realities. The labors of the early brethren were followed by those of other workers. While some of our number have apostatized, others have fallen asleep in hope of a resurrection to eternal life, and still others have gone away to receive a preparation to join the ranks of those heralding this mighty message. Those of us who remain were never more courageous, in spite of adverse circumstances, and never more ready to shoulder the burdens of life and the duties that come through love for the Master, in order that the new era may set in—the destruction of sin and the ushering in of the eternal reign of the King of righteousness.
ALFRED TAYLOR.
Opening of the Work on Tortue Island
By Albert F. Prieger
At the last meeting at Port de Paix, arrangements were made for Brother Gregoire Obas to visit the island of Tortue, which is just across a narrow but deep strip of water from Port de Paix, north of the island of Haiti, and ascertain the situation among its 4,000 inhabitants. Brother Obas left in February. Through others we learned that quite an interest was awakened, so I decided to go over. A nephew of the deacon of the Port de Paix church kindly offered his assistance, and made arrangements with a boatman. We started April 3, at 4 A. M., and by five o’clock we were in a boat twelve feet long and five feet wide. I thought it was a rowboat to take us to a larger vessel. However, the owner, with a Haitian helper, rowed us along the shore until sunrise, the boat leaking much because it had been in the hot sun a week or more. It kept me busy dipping out water with a little cup five inches across and with a hole in it, which necessitated rapid movements.
By 6 A. M. the boatman put the mast, or pole, in place and hung up a sail, while we beheld a beautiful sunrise. The sun came up like a large ball of fire, so majestically and slowly that one man involuntarily exclaimed, “Terrible!” It was sublime.
We then started across the channel. The boatman told me to take off my coat and vest. I certainly felt thankful for the suggestion, as the wind and waves rose with the rising of the sun, giving me barely time to place my clothing in my suit case, and soon the waves went right over us and poured their salt water into our little boat. This kept me at my work, dipping with the leaky cup. Soon we were all as wet as the sea itself, and while I worried some over my suit case, yet my dipping gave me little time to think of anything else. At one time a wave filled the boat nearly one third, giving me plenty of work. One hour and five minutes brought us across. I shall never forget the journey. It was a new experience, vivid and full of action.
On reaching the shore the sail and the mast were taken down, and the boatman and his helper rowed eastward along the coast of Tortue. We passed some rocks in the sea which were full of holes wherein little black birds had their nests, and seemingly were surprised to see strangers. At 9 A. M. we landed at Cayonne, and then walked over the hill to Mr. Castan’s home, arriving there about ten o’clock. It was twelve o’clock when Brother Obas came to visit us. In the meantime about twelve persons had arrived, and I had sold five Bibles. It was a pleasure to see the women embrace one another when Brother Obas and I exchanged greetings. Their hearts overflowed with joy.
After drying my paper money in the sun, we had dinner, and I then spoke to them about the love of God in sacrificing his Son; the love of Abraham toward God in doing likewise; and then asked them if they were willing to bring a sacrifice also. They all said they were. Although twelve had taken their stand to keep the Sabbath, yet they all wore chains, beads, and strings with Catholic emblems around their necks, and rings in their ears and on their fingers. None in our homeland know how great a sacrifice it is for them to give these up, for they superstitiously guard these things. But the love of God appealed to them more strongly than the beads, and to my surprise, at the next meeting they entered stripped of all jewelry and beads, and seemed filled with an inexpressible joy that they had done something for the Saviour who gave his life that they might live.
It is a joy to report that Brother Obas has worked untiringly until forty-four are very much interested, and twelve are keeping the Sabbath.
As only two or three could read, I asked how many would be willing to learn to read the Word for themselves. About thirty hands went up, so Brother Obas is giving instruction three times a week in reading.
We parted the next morning, and the words of Isa. 42:4 came to my mind with a new meaning: “The isles shall wait for His law.” There are people on these islands waiting for us to take God’s law to them, so that they too may sing that song of deliverance and victory, and stand with God’s people on Mount Zion.