For nearly two years I have suffered much with fever, which seems to come on every time my body gets overtired. Each attack was worse than the one before, and the brethren thought it necessary for me to have a change and rest. It was very hard for me to consent to this, for the work and the people in Java have become very dear to me. It seemed that I could not endure the thought of leaving for a whole year, and it was one of the hardest struggles I have had. I finally left it all in the Lord's hands, and asked him earnestly that if it were his will that I should go, he would so fit and prepare me for his work that I might be the means of bringing some souls to the Lord in the homelands. As our boat pulled out from the harbor, it was very painful to me to see the bitter tears shed by the dear people who had come out from the darkness of heathenism into the light of the precious truth, and become members of the royal family of God. What a longing it gave me for the great reunion that is soon to take place, when the sorrows of parting will forever be in the past.
We stopped for some hours at the island of Billiton. As I walked up the streets of the principal town, I was so glad that the message had just entered this island through the printed page. One of our canvassers had taken more than two hundred subscriptions and had sold quite a number of tracts.
The beautiful city of Singapore, the headquarters of the Malaysian field, where the message has been sounding for many years, is a very busy place. Thousands of jinrikishas run here and there, carrying people of all nationalities to the different parts of the city.
As our boat steamed into the harbor of Hongkong, and I saw the high mountains and hillsides clad in their robes of evergreen and magnificent colors, I thought of the eternal haven of rest that we have almost reached, and wondered how many will see its glory and beauty. Ah, he that is pure in heart shall see God and all his wonderful works. There is a cable tram that goes to the top of one of these very steep hills. From a distance it looks like a fly climbing up the side of a window. I felt that I must have a ride on that wonderful tram that can do such climbing. As I sat inside the car and watched its progress, I was overwhelmed at the sight. It was evident that a slight mistake would plunge it to the bottom. I asked the conductor what would happen if the strong rope that was pulling the car should break. He said, “We should fall and be gone, destroyed entirely. But we have never had an accident,” he added, “because we change the rope every three or four months.”
This gave me a new thought. We are on the car of time, and we are pulled with a strong power from above. We are connected with that wonderful power with a rope also, and that rope is our prayers. But our rope must be changed daily, and sometimes even hourly, or it will become weak, and finally break. Then the connection with the only power that can pull us safely through to the haven of rest is cut off, and we fall into ruin and everlasting destruction.
Looking upon the beautiful scenery of the hillsides, one forgets for a moment the gloomy, dark, and sinful world. But ah, there is another sight, a very sad one, below these beautiful hills. There is the large city of Hongkong, with its thousands of people living in the darkness of heathenism and sin. And oh, what a longing comes into the heart to help these poor, ignorant souls who have been bought with the precious blood of a loving Saviour! But how can they come to the Saviour except some one is sent to give them the invitation? This is only one city among the thousands in the large provinces of China. There are many others, with their teeming thousands crowded into small, narrow, dirty streets, and swarming in and out of the small dark houses which often contain several families. At the joss houses they push their way in and out, bowing in worship to the numerous large, lifeless images that are unable to help them in their distress. Oh, this picture is before me day and night, and it has stirred my heart as nothing ever has done before!
THE NEW PORTO RICAN CHAPEL AND MISSION HEAD-QUARTERS, SAN JUAN
From Europe we hear the sound of cannon, the alarm of war. Jer. 4: 19, 20. Streams of blood are flowing from brave men who are sacrificing their lives for their country, while in the homes the widows and the fatherless are sobbing with broken hearts for the loving companion and kind father who will never return.
What does all this misery and cruelty mean? Oh, it is one of the last mileposts showing that Jesus is coming very, very soon, yes, that he is even standing at the door. Should not this stir our hearts, dear brethren and sisters, as they have never been stirred before, and lead us to pray with intense earnestness to the Lord of the harvest that he will put the spirit of sacrifice into our hearts, and a burden for the salvation of these teeming millions, so that we may reach out a helping hand to them before it is forever too late? In these last moments of this world's history let us make every sacrifice; then soon, very soon, we shall stand on the sea of glass, and have the joy of clasping hands with many of the redeemed from these benighted lands, who have been plucked out of the fire.
