CHILD STUDY has quite revolutionized many methods of teaching children. Instead of considering alone the demands of society and the wishes of those in charge of the child in education, his natural tendencies of mind and body are most taken into consideration in what is taught him and in how it is taught—“a little child shall lead ‘them.’” The normal child indicates readily those lines of study in which he has a natural interest. He is continually telling by his actions what objects and things appeal to him most strongly. God has a purpose in the life of every child; and it is very possible so to direct the development of the child as to thwart the Creator’s purpose, and crush it quite fully out of his life.
It is indeed quite safe to take this spontaneous and natural development of the mind of the child as a guide in his education. Place him in the midst of the Creator’s manifold works to roam about, that he may observe, compare, and think, and he will return in time a discoverer,—nay, more, a conqueror.
But for these natural hints of the child’s mind to be of any real value to the parent and teacher, they must be studied critically and persistently. How may the child’s mind be studied?—By carefully noting what he says and does; a note-book is here of much value. What a child does and says are generally very easy of interpretation, and his motives are not far to seek, for he is open and frank. Rare indeed is the child who does not talk and act as he feels. In this is, perhaps, the greatest opportunity for directing the developing mind of the child; for his thoughts are almost entirely outside of his own personality. All too soon, however, they become reflective and self-centered, and then pass rapidly from sight and control. The first years of life are the all-important ones.
It is the spirit of open frankness that enables us to read in his freely-expressed thoughts his likes and dislikes of all life and nature around him—more likes than dislikes, however, in the normal, well-trained, and disciplined child. Surrounded by nature, the child becomes a king, reigning in his own realm. Why, O why can not all children live in the country, breathing pure, wholesome air, drinking into their souls the beauty of form and color, and filling them with love and good will? I say that in such an atmosphere the child becomes supreme; all things are his servants, ministering to his happiness. He is fanned by the soft breezes of spring and summer, filled with a delightsome vigor by the cold winds of autumn and the blasts of winter. He has covered himself with blankets of snow, and has reveled in the bath given him by the pelting rainstorm: creek, river, and lake are his boating and skating. The diamonds of the dew are his; so are the glories of the rainbow. The lightning’s flash and the thunder’s roar startle and awe him, yet fill him with an “I’m ‘not afraid’” spirit. For him many kinds of birds flit about, or sing amid the leafy branches of a great variety of shrubs and trees. Droning bees and whirring insects pass in, and out of, and among, many flowers of a great variety of shape, size, color, and perfume. The sun and moon have daily, all his life, been reviewed by him, as they have passed on their stately march through the glorious avenue of the stars. Each year, he has seen the world arouse from its slumbers and life-storing rest, and throw off its blanket of snow, don beautiful robes of green, go forth to the work of the year, become weary, and seek restoring rest,—apparently a great resurrection and death.
At no time in the life of an individual does he acquire so much knowledge as during those years before he reaches the age when he should attend school. What a great mistake many parents make in hurrying the children off to the school-building, with the idea that a child is not learning until he has a book in his hand.
Because of this mistake, the powers of observation are left undeveloped and untrained. If the child could only be kept growing mentally throughout his life at the same rate that he grows before he comes to the age when he is usually sent to school, it would seem that he might become a renowned scientist in whatever field of study his natural bent of mind should direct him. That this natural interest of the child does abate, is a fact evidenced in the life of nearly every child. Who is responsible for this change, which is nothing short of a calamity? Who indeed can be but parent and teacher?
How may this natural interest be prolonged?—By following carefully and persistently the laws of nature in the child’s development. Notice the character of the knowledge which the child acquires. Of a flower, he talks of its color or perfume; of an animal, its size or shape; of a bird, its song or plumage; and so on continually—all breadth and no depth. And this is considered all wrong by most parents and teachers, because they think it leads to superficiality; and consequently they set themselves at once to teaching the child of the structure and classification of the objects—often the classification before the structure. The child should come to all this, but in advanced work. But with the child these ideas about definite order are unnecessary—dog or elephant, tea-rose or pigweed, butterfly or earthworm—let him study where and what he will.
It must be remembered that I am speaking of children below twelve or thirteen years of age; and I am wishing to emphasize the fact that observation lies at the basis of knowledge-getting. How often does the word “Behold” occur in the Scriptures. If men will not behold, they can not learn; neither can children.
I would not convey the idea from what I have said that a desultory and aimless observation is advocated, passing thoughtlessly from object to object, as an insect from flower to flower. Thoroughness should early be taught the child. The bee, in passing from flower to flower, gets some sweetness from each, if it has to give; so should the child be taught to gather something of value from each object of its observation and study. FREDERICK GRIGGS.
South Lancaster, Mass.
The Power of Hostile Newspapers
Four hostile newspapers are more to be feared than a thousand bayonets.—Napoleon.
THE DYING GIRL.
By C. H. Fowler
I WENT once to see a dying girl whom the world had roughly treated. She never had a father, she never knew her mother. Her home had been the poor-house, her couch the hospital cot, and yet, as she staggered in her weakness there, she picked up a little of the alphabet, enough to spell out the New Testament, and she had touched the hem of the Master's garment and had learned the new song. And I never trembled in the presence of majesty as I did in the majesty of her presence as she came near the crossing.
“O sir,” she said, “God sends His angels. I read ‘in His Word: ‘Are they not all ministering spirits, ‘sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of ‘salvation?’ And when I am lying in my cot, they ‘stand about me on this floor, and when the heavy ‘darkness comes, and this poor side aches so severely, ‘He comes, for He says, ‘Lo, I am with you,’ and I ‘sleep, I rest.”—C. H. Fowler.
PAINT THE SKY FIRST.
By Julia Harris May
[Julia Harris May, in Advance.]
An artist of rare skill,
And genius manifold,
Did not outline his picture till,
In tints of blue and gold,
Upon the canvas, lifted high,
He spread the colors of the sky.
And when the sky was done,
He painted all below
To match in every hue and tone,
Until it seemed as tho
The very shadows were in love
With colors copied from above.
But when the work begun
Was finished, ’twas so fine
They did not think of sky or sun,
But only how divine
The landscape was; how cool and sweet
The spot where lights and shadows meet!
Yes, let the sky come first;
This is the lesson taught.
That lifetime is, alas, the worst
Whose skies are latest wrought;
For, finished with the greatest care,
Something is always lacking there.
God first and earth the last.
What better rule than this
If thou dost wish the work thou hast
To be a masterpiece,
Whose smallest touches, lightly given
On earth and seas, are toned to heaven?
O, hast thou painted well
Thy picture’s glorious sky?
Hast not? And longest to excel?
Then lift to heaven thine eye,
And let thy work its colors wear—
Paint not the ground till skies are there.
COURTESY IN STREET-CARS.
THE old and tiresome problem of the man, the woman, and the street-car is again brought forward for discussion in this, “the silly season.”
“Should a man give his seat to a lady who is standing?” asks a Western editor.
He should. All the arguments in his behalf avail nothing against this obvious fact. He should, because by just such small courtesies as these does he distinguish himself from the boor, and prove himself worthy of the women who love him. He should give the old lady his seat in reverence to his mother; he should give the matron his seat because he would wish other men to give one to his wife; young women, even if they are not well dressed or attractive, should have from him the courtesy he would, or should, show to his sister or sweetheart. The tired shop-girl should have his seat for reasons of humanity. As for the man who would allow a woman with a baby in her arms to stand while he is seated—he is beneath contempt.
Too many men are sitting in the street-cars while tired women stand. Each man who does so exhibits a cool selfishness which stamps him as sadly lacking in other relations in life. A recent result of this selfishness, and a very beautiful one, is the growing tendency among women to consider each other’s needs. We have all seen young women give old ladies their seats, while men sat by, and the spectacle of a strong woman giving her place to one who looks ill or exhausted is fortunately not rare. Possibly these increasing object-lessons may suggest reform where it is so sadly needed.
However, there is another side to the subject. The girl who accepts the proffered seat without so much as a “Thank you,” deserves to stand for several miles. It is, to say the least of it, not very encouraging to the politeness of mankind to have a woman accept those little courteous sacrifices as if the giver were a mere machine.—Harper’s Bazar.
To whom did Jesus refer in John 10:16 by the “other ‘sheep’?” E. O.
Primarily to the Gentiles, and all others outside the fold who could be brought in. See Isa. 56:8. His flock was Israel. Eze. 34:11, 12. Read the whole chapter. See also Luke 2:32; Eph. 3:3-5.
Please explain the spirits in prison. 1 Peter 3:19. Mrs. U. C.
Twice during the past year the SIGNS OF THE TIMES has published extended articles on the spirits in prison. In brief, we see no light in that idea, suggested by the minister, which makes the angels mix with unlawful marriage with women before the deluge. The sons of God were the seed of Seth. See Gen. 4:26, margin. The sons of men were Cain and his followers. The spirit of worldliness took possession of God’s people when the wicked daughters of the world became mothers in the church.
As to 1 Peter 3:19, the spirits in prison are those bound in sin. See Ps. 107:10, 11; 38:4; 40:12; Prov. 5:22; Ps. 142:7. The psalmist prays, “Bring my soul out of prison.” The mission of Christ through all time is to open the prison to those who are bound. Isa. 61:1; Luke 4:18. The “spirits in prison” referred to by Peter were the sinners bound by their sins in the days of the deluge. Christ went and preached to them by the Spirit through Noah. 2 Peter 2:4; 1 Peter 1:10, 11; Heb. 11:7. He did this “while the ark of God was a preparing.” He did not preach to those disobedient ones when they were dead, but when they were alive. The testimony of the Scriptures is: “The dead know not anything.”
“Hate” in Luke 14:26 means to love less. It is explained by Matt. 10:37: “He that loveth father or mother more than Me is ‘not worthy of Me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than ‘Me is not worthy of Me.” In a general sense, if a man forsook his wife or child of choice, it would be said that he did not love them, he hated them. The love of Christ causes men to forsake all, to choose Him exclusive of all. In comparison with the love the redeemed soul has for Him, all earthly love is nothing. But the man that loves Christ Jesus with all his heart, so that he would forsake all of earth if called to, truly loves his father and mother, son and daughter, etc., more,—loves them with a purer, holier, more devoted love than he could possess did he not love Christ. He does not love sin nor sin’s association; and if he leaves those he loves, it will be because they prefer to remain associated with sin; but he will do all in his power, even to die if need be, to win them from sin. We can paraphrase Luke 14:26 to read: “If any man come to Me, and love not less than he loves ‘Me his father and mother, and wife and children, and brethren ‘and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he can not be My disciple.” Love to God must be so clear and positive that love for all creatures must seem to be negative. The thought is this: Loving God with all the heart, soul, mind, and strength, and one’s neighbor—all others—as himself. Matt. 22:37-40.
1175. Refining Sugar.
I am told that blood is used in refining sugar, and that in making maple sugar salt pork is used to refine it, and to keep it from boiling over. Is this so? A. T. B.
In very low and crude sugars, blood albumen was formerly used in purifying, but we believe that recent processes dispense with this.
We have seen men use a piece of fat pork to prevent a kettle of maple sap from boiling over. Possibly it may be used in boiling the syrup. The hot sap “tries out” the oil or grease, and that quiets the “troubled waters.” By all good sugar-makers the grease is taken off with the scum. Fat pork is rarely used now, we believe, and by no good sugar-maker so as to leave aught of it in the sugar. We have seen much sugar made without the use of pork or any grease. Milk is often used in purifying the syrup.
“LET US QUARREL TO-MORROW.”
My wife is one of the sweetest little women in the whole world, and I am not considered peculiarly cranky; but sometimes differences would arise, beginning with the most trivial things, which, however, being duly nursed, became of monumental proportions, and often threatened the peace of the family. Of course, I was commonly the one to blame; in fact, as I look back on it now, I am sure I was always to blame, for I should have had the wisdom to give way on the non-essentials, and by a little restraint and gentle talk win my little wife over to my way of thinking. But, instead of that, I feared I should sacrifice my dignity (!) as “head of the family,” by yielding. So sometimes I went to business without my good-bye kiss, and two persons were miserable all day.
But my little wife had an inspiration (most women have when things come to the breaking point), and the next time our argument was drifting near the danger line, she turned aside the collision by this womanly suggestion, “Howard, dear, let’s quarrel ‘to-morrow!’” This was a proposal for an armistice. What husband could refuse? “All right,” I said, “we will put it off till to-morrow,” and we laughed and talked of other things. But to-morrow did not come. Indeed, to-morrow never comes, it’s always a day ahead; and if we can only keep our quarrels till then, there will be no more heart-broken little wives at home, and fewer “blue” husbands at the store or office. “Let’s quarrel to-morrow.”—Ex.
A THEOLOGICAL POSER.
The Rev. John McNeill was recently holding a revival service at Cardiff, Wales, and announced that he would answer any questions about the Bible. At once a note was sent up to him, reading as follows:
“Dear Mr. McNeill—If you are seeking to help ‘young men, kindly tell me who was Cain’s wife.”
That seemed a poser, and the audience waited with intense interest, tempered with amusement, to see how the good man would extricate himself. After a pause he said:—
“I love young men, especially young inquirers for ‘light, and I would give this young man a word of ‘advice. It is this: Don’t lose your soul’s salvation ‘looking after other people’s wives!”—Epworth Herald.
GOLDEN GRAIN.
By Mrs. C. W. Keniston
O, TRUTH of God, how precious
To every Christ-like heart;
His love divinely gracious,
Is of my life a part.
The living stream now flowing
Has washed the crimson stain;
And tares of Satan’s sowing,
Replaced by golden grain.
The golden grain is whitening,
The reaping soon is done.
O, may my soul be ready
To meet the holy One.
Mrs. C. W. KENISTON.
Machias, Maine.
IF I HAD KNOWN.
If I had known when last I clasped your hand,
That on this earth we two would meet no more,
That you would be the first to pass beyond
That never outward-swinging, low, green door,—
Would I have spoken in that jesting tone,
If I had known?
The air is filled with fragrance from the pines,
The odorous fields with spring’s rare gifts are sweet,
I walk beside the sorrow-laden sea
That once I loved, with lingering, aimless feet;
Perhaps I should not heed its dreary moan,
If I had known.
The very sunlight mocks me on the waves,
Its music falls in cadence soft and light,
No white-winged boat comes o’er the snowy foam,
To bring my loved ones to my sight;
Perhaps I had not thus been left alone,
If I had known.
—Anon.
LIFTING A MORTGAGE.
We came across an incident of a young farmer in the West, which beautifully confirms the Scripture teaching that God specially blesses, both temporally and spiritually, those who give Him one-tenth of all they receive.
This young man had mortgaged his farm, and was struggling hard to get out of debt. His young, spiritual-minded wife frequently requested him to give one-tenth of all the proceeds of his farm to the Lord.
He kept arguing that he could not afford it while so deeply in debt, but that as soon as the mortgage was paid off he would begin tithing. She reminded him that one-tenth of all he made was God’s lawful share of the property, and that he had no more right to take the Lord’s portion to pay his debts than to take anybody else’s money to pay his debts. He would not be convinced. At the end of every year he found himself more involved, financially, than the previous year. At last, in great distress of mind, he began crying to God, and solemnly promised that God should have His tenth even if he lost his farm. From that day the Lord smiled upon him in every way, and in two years after, the mortgage was paid off, every debt was paid, and he had some ready cash in the bank. The Lord is waiting to work the same kind of deliverance for thousands of people who are struggling with debt if they will only, from the heart, believe and practise His word in Malachi 3:10. Will all ye who are poor and in debt, from this very day go and do likewise; and if God fails to bless you for it, it will be the first case ever known.—Living Words.
“THIS ONE THING I DO KNOW.”
By Anon
SOME time since a woman delivered a lecture in Lancashire, England, against Christianity, in which she declared that the Gospel narrative of the life of Christ was a myth and a fable. One of the mill hands who listened to her obtained leave to ask a question.
“The question,” said he, “I want to ask the lady is this: Thirty years ago I was a curse to this town, and everybody shrank from me that had any respect for himself. I often tried to do better, but could not succeed. The teetotalers got hold of me, but I broke the pledge so often that they said it was no use trying me any longer; then the police got hold of me, and I was taken before the magistrates, and they tried; and next I was sent to prison, and the warders tried what they could do. But tho they all tried, I was nothing better, but rather worse. Now you say that Christ is a myth. But when I tried, and the teetotalers and the police all tried in vain, then Christ took hold of me, touched my heart, and made me a new man. And now I am a member of the church, a class-leader, a superintendent of the Sunday-school; and I ask, If Christ is a myth, how comes it to pass that that myth is stronger than all the others put together?”
The lady was silent. “Nay, miss,” said he, “say what you will, the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation.”—Anon
THE PEOPLE OF FIJI.
By J. E. Fulton
[An address by J. E. Fulton before the Union Conference held at Cooranbong, N. S. W., July 11–28, 1901, and printed in the Union Conference Record.]
When I came to Australia, it seemed so strange to see so few services on the Sabbath. I will tell you about our services in Fiji. I told you the other evening that we had only two little tracts besides the Bible. We have also a small hymn-book, and that is one reason why the natives like to come to meetings. Sister Parker is here, and if she is willing we might sing you one. (The hymn “On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand” was sung in Fijian by Brother and Sister Parker and the speaker.) We commence our Sabbath services on Friday evening at the ringing of a bell. This bell is a hollowed-out log, which is beaten with two big clubs. This is done either by children or grown people, and can be heard a long way. This was the kind of bell that was formerly used to summon the people to their cannibal feasts. Now it is used to call them to the church services. At Suva we have such a bell. We have a prayer service at the beginning of the Sabbath. At sunrise the people come again. This is not only for a few Sabbaths, but is done throughout the year. At 10 A.M. we have our Sabbath-school. At 11 A.M. we have our preaching service. At 3 P.M. we have another preaching service, and at the close of the Sabbath we have a service for praise and prayer. On Tuesday evening we have our prayer and social meeting, and on Thursday evening we have an informal talk on health reform or other subject, or I try to answer any questions the people may ask.
There is a membership of about forty-five in our Sabbath-school. There are also a few scattered ones in other parts of the group; but the company I have been speaking of is at Suva Vou. The people sit on the floor. The men sit on one side of the building and the women on the other. They have no use for chairs or tables. They write their letters while lying on mats.
Ringing the Bell for Church in Fiji.
They eat their meals off mats which are spread upon the floor. Their plates are usually banana leaves, which need no washing. They use their fingers instead of knives and forks. Their food consists of various things. They eat yams, taro, and bananas, which are sometimes boiled in the green state and eaten. They often bake them. They make a pit in the ground, and put a fire in it and heat it. Then the fire is taken out, and the food put in. This is then covered with grass and left to cook. Pigs, tinned beef, and fish also are eaten. Taro is an article of diet,—a root which is eaten either boiled or baked. Vakalolo is a preparation of this root. It is beaten up fine, mixed with coconut milk and sugar-cane juice, and baked brown. It takes the place of pudding.
For beds one end of the house is raised like a platform. This is often fifteen feet wide, and its length is the width of the house. On this stage are placed long boughs or leaves of the coconut tree, and over these a large number of mats according to the wealth of the owner. Over these is a mosquito screen. Their mats are remarkable, and some are very beautiful indeed.
The breadfruit is eaten. It grows on a tree, but is more of a vegetable than a fruit. They sometimes preserve it, or rather rot it, by burying it in the ground for weeks. The Fijians esteem it a great delicacy. They make bread from a nut called ivi. It is soaked in dirty pools of water. If a native woman loaded with this were to see a white person coming, she would take a very circuitous route to pass him. The reason is that her burden does not smell very nice. After being soaked, the nuts are scraped and made into bread. Some of our people have put this kind of food away, but it is as hard for them to break off old habits as for us. Baker’s bread can be bought in Suva. The Fijians are in advance of other natives. They have good clean mats even in the houses of the poor.
I told you the other night that there are about 15,000 Hindus in the islands. Well, there are more Hindus than Fijians in the jail. This jail has a wall all round the grounds. The wall is composed of reeds from the bush. These are as large as a man’s finger and about ten feet high. Yet, although the walls are so flimsy that a man might break through them anywhere, it is very seldom that one escapes. The prisoners are treated very leniently, and are trusted as messenger boys to go miles into the interior. They wear their sulu like other people, and you would not recognize them only by the letters “S. G.” (Suva Gaol—English spelling of jail) printed on the sulu. The Fijians are a very reverent people, in form at any rate. When entering a church they will bow down, and when inside they will sit very quietly. Before the coming of Christianity, the Fijians had a religion of their own. They had their priests, and their heathen temples were all over the islands.
We find it a very hard task to discipline the children in school. When we are correcting one, all the rest join in correcting that one too. If they are close enough, they will give him a slap. When we turn round to the one who has slapped him and speak to him, then all the rest turn on him. It is very hard to make them understand that they must be quiet.
I have been asked if our work in the islands can not be made self-supporting. I do not know what the Lord may do. The chiefs get some money from the government, but the common people are poor. Their usual wage is a shilling a day. You can readily see that there is not very much to save up after purchasing clothing and a few necessaries. I often think of the text, “The poor ye have always with you.” It seems to me that we shall always have to help these needy mission fields.
One quarter our Sabbath-school contributions in Suva amounted to £3 14s. 7d. The people had paid their tithes, too, and had helped to make the mission quarters. Other quarters our contributions amounted to £2 ($10).
The government taxes these people very heavily indeed. They are required to pay £1 4s. per man in Fiji, and a boy is reckoned a man as soon as he reaches the age of sixteen years, or when he leaves school. Many are required to pay their taxes by raising sugar-cane for the mills. Where no sugar is raised, they must raise coconuts, dry them, and bring them to Suva or Levuka. Besides these things, they must work on the roads. They get no food supplied them, and as they are far from their homes, they are obliged to go out in the bush and dig roots for food. The Hindus and other islanders are free from all this taxation. Besides all these taxes, they must pay an indirect tax on store goods, such as cloth and tinned meats. If they get a few shillings, they always spend it. Sometimes the natives are required to get out timber for the government. It takes a very long time to get out this timber. Not long ago some of our brethren were nearly imprisoned over this thing. They were engaged in getting the timber; and as the Sabbath drew on, they saw they could not get to their destination without breaking the Sabbath. So they tied up their raft, left it, and went home. The chief threatened to report them to the government. They said that even if they were to be sent to jail, they would rather suffer that than break the Sabbath. The brethren there love the truth very much. If we could only be there at their family worship, we should hear them praying for this conference, and in their meetings they pray for the work in other parts of the world.
Two years ago, when Brother Irwin was passing through Fiji, I went on board ship and met him. The chief Ambrose saw him. The natives wanted to know who he was. I explained to them that he was the president of the General Conference, who had charge of the work all over the world. They now call Brother Irwin Qase Levu kei Varasura (the big man of all the world). They call Brother13Gates Qase Levu kei Polynesia (the great man of Polynesia), while my name is Qase Levu kei Viti (the great man of Fiji).
They have a real love for the work, and I have heard them break down as they prayed for others in different parts of the world. A visitor to Fiji would be much struck by the sound of singing coming from homes of the natives as they engage in their morning and evening worship. This is true of the Wesleyans all over the group. The Wesleyans did a great deal of good among them in the early days.
I want to mention again about the launch. Calls continue to come from all parts for help. “Come and help us,” they cry. I believe there is a harvest to be reaped among these islands. I feel we must have a launch. If, after you have paid for these great institutions in Australia, you should have a few pence left, I trust you will remember us in Fiji. With the launch we can go inside the reef in any ordinary weather. We could also go outside the reef and visit the outlying islands. Inside the reef which surrounds many of the islands it is calm in almost any weather. The people are calling for the message; and whether they call or not, we must take it to them. It really seems as if we must have this launch, and I believe the Lord will give us means somehow.
At Bau, the great cannibal capital, about a month ago there was a large feast while my wife and I were visiting the place. They had large turtles, pigs, and yams. They had also fowls, taro, and other things. I went to see the chiefs and to distribute literature among them. I hardly dreamed of having an opportunity of preaching to them. They were asking me questions all the afternoon. Finally, one of them said, “Why don’t you preach? I will ring the bell.” I told them I would preach. There was a large building, their council-chamber. After the singing of a hymn, and prayer, the building was filled. Several hundred were present. Many seemed very glad of the meeting and wanted me to come again. I gave them some more tracts, and they said they wanted the book we are having printed. Now is the time to do work in Fiji. If we wait, the interest will grow cold. I want to see the work go there, and the Lord has told us that now is the time.
Just a word about the medical missionary work. Before going to Samoa, Dr. F. E. Braucht visited Fiji, but he could not practise there owing to British law. We asked the governor about it; but he said that, while nurses would be welcomed, the law forbade doctors to practise unless they had colonial or English diplomas. There is one circumstance that would militate against medical work on a self-supporting basis. The government gives free treatment at its hospitals. Yet we need and must have medical missionary workers.
I will tell you a little experience. Some little time ago I visited the island of Naironi. I got there in the evening and stopped at the house of a native. He was just going out to visit a sick man who was dying. He had been eating some hurtful thing. I asked if he would allow me to do something. I applied fomentations to his chest and back. In half an hour he was asleep. He slept on and on till 10 A.M. next day. Then he said to me, “I was dying. You’ve saved my life.” Brother and Sister Parker did good work in these lines. The natives were very grateful and brought mats and other things. Some, of course, are ungrateful. A native was going to die, but through medicine given him by a white man he got well. Then he came to him and said, “You have cured me. Now I need clothing and food and money. If you had let me die, I shouldn’t have needed these things.” There is a man in Fiji whom Brother Parker cured. He is around every day. We can’t get rid of him. Still we must work for them. Christ healed ten lepers, yet only one returned to thank Him. I think more than one in ten would be grateful in Fiji. I believe they are very good people. Some of them are growing in grace and knowledge of the truth, and will find a place in the kingdom. Some are growing up to be missionaries. We have also Hindus and Polynesians there. It is a good mission field. The other day a Hindu offered to interpret for me if I would speak to his people. May our hearts all be stirred to aid in answering the calls from this needy mission field.
JESUS “THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.”
By S. I. Cornish
O my soul, where hast thou wandered? Wast thou Christian more than name?— Ears for deaf and eyes for blinded— Didst thou aid the poor, the lame? A friend to the poor was Jesus.
In myself there is no goodness; And how mean self now appears, Since I to the Saviour yielded, Heard His words and marked His tears. I am only whole in Jesus.
Blessed Saviour, Thou canst keep me, And I must to others tell Of the joys of Thy salvation, That within my bosom dwell. The joy of my life is Jesus.
Brighter let my lamp be burning, Beacon to some stranded soul; Never dim, but clearer shining, As we near th’ eternal goal. The light of the world is Jesus.
Praise the Lord! O halleluiah! For the light along the way For the progress of the message, For the dawning of the day The King that will come is Jesus.
S. I. Cornish.
Springfield, Mo.
The Puritan and Bear-Baiting
THE Puritan hated bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectators.—Macaulay.
WHAT HAVE YOU MISSED FROM LACK OF WILLING CONSECRATION?
A STRANGER once called at the great Friedberg Cathedral and asked permission to play on the organ. The custodian was very stiff and unwilling to allow him access to the great instrument, but permitted him to sit down for a few moments, while he listened and tested his ability. He was soon amazed at the touch of that master-hand. Before he had played many moments, he was listening spellbound to the unearthly music that was coming forth from the pipes. “Who are you, anyhow?” he asked. “Why,” replied the other, “I am Mendelssohn, and this organ was built at my directions.” Then the official could not find words enough in which to express his humiliation, and apologized. “To think,” he said, “that I should have kept Mendelssohn from his own organ.” Alas! how many are keeping the master-hand of Him who made us for Himself from the keys of our being. Let Him have you, and He will bring out of your life its highest and its best, and make your whole existence a psalm of praise, a doxology of glory to God who made you for Himself.—Watchword and Truth.
ONLY A WORD.
By Nixon Waterman
“A word spoken in due season, how good is it!” Prov. 15:23.
TELL me something that will be
Joy through all the years to me.
Let my heart forever hold
One divinest grain of gold.
Just a simple little word,
Yet the dearest ever heard;
Something that will bring me rest
When the world seems all distressed.
As the candle in the night
Sends abroad its cheerful light,
So a little word may be
Like a lighthouse in the sea;
When the winds and waves of life
Fill the breast with storm and strife,
Just one star my boat may guide
To the harbor, glorified.
—Nixon Waterman.
