p. 10 | Review and Herald, Vol. 87, No. 34. (8/25/1910)

The Lost Sense of Sin

THE Bible teaches that sin is the most deadly evil in the world. Not only are great crimes exceedingly sinful, but all manner of sin is hateful in the sight of God and ruinous to the soul. There are no little sins. Sin is treason against the only perfect government and the only perfect Sovereign. There is a remedy for sin, but it is very costly. Nothing less than the blood of the Son of God can atone for sin, and repair the damage of sin in the world. Men ought to be sorry for their sins, and to grieve over them and be ashamed of them. No soul should be content until he has the witness of God that his sins are all forgiven.

A new doctrine of sin is now being industriously promulgated. Some religious teachers, instead of insisting that sin is exceedingly sinful, are insisting that sin is insignificant. They seem to be afraid that men will worry too much over their sins, and try too hard to be rid of them. They are trying to console men in their sins rather than to make them ashamed of sin. It is not a common thing now to hear men and women bemoaning their sins, and crying out, “Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” Who is tormented, who suffers agony, because of his sins now?

A new kind of preaching has helped to cause the loss of the sense of sin. . . . When a minister proclaims the loving pity of God for lost sinners, he does well; but when he says nothing about the justice of God, the wrath of the Lamb, the terror of the Lord, and the bitterness of sin, he misleads the people, even though he is proclaiming a good doctrine. One may lay stress on the pity of the Lord in such a way as to teach dangerous error. It is all the more dangerous that these soft truths are being taught by the most learned of teachers, men whom the people naturally look up to as men of authority. Little is said by these men about sin, but much about the safety of the sinner in the care of the Father.

Some religious teachers are trying to state their theological doctrines in scientific language, and are making bad work of it. The theology of evolution has come to be accepted by some, and it is thought necessary to find an interpretation of the story of creation and the origin of sin which will fit in with this new theory. Hence we are told that sin is not an intruder any more than night is an alien element. Sin is just as natural and as necessary as righteousness. The mixed character of the moral life of mankind is a natural consequence of the manner in which man came into existence, and sin is a part of our heritage.

We must not antagonize science, but much that is set forth as science is mere speculation. This is true of this sort of reasoning concerning the moral condition of mankind. Science has done wonders for men, but it will travel a long way before it can tell us anything about the origin and nature of sin. Science knows nothing about the origin and nature of sin. Any poor sinner with a broken and contrite heart knows more about the nature of sin than the wisest philosopher who never tasted the bitter cup of repentance.

The fruits of this new doctrine of sin are bad. The consequences following the fading out of the sense of sin from the hearts of men are apparent. Who is afraid of sin now? The average man is much more afraid of being found out than he is of the sin itself. If a young man can take the money of the bank or of his employer, and replace it before he is discovered, he considers himself a lucky and sharp fellow. He imagines that his hands are clean. Teach men that there is no judgment to fear except that of the county court, that there is no detective to escape save the policeman, and they will soon conclude that they are shrewd enough to evade these. To destroy the sense of sin is to open the door to vice and crime. If a man does not have a watchman in his own bosom to restrain him, he will not be restrained. The city and the country can not be saved from crime and vice by learning, or by law, or by prisons. Unless we are saved by a living conscience, we are lost.

They tell us the world is growing better, but the tide of moral progress seems to have received a check. If we go on at the present rate of increase in crime and vice for twenty years, can we be sure that the world will not be growing worse? Let us hope that this black tide of iniquity will be turned back. But if it is, it must be by closing the floodgate by which it has been admitted. Let the sense of sin be revived by teaching the truth. Let ministers and teachers show men that sin is exceeding sinful.

Many good things might be said about conditions which surround us in this day; but one thing must not be overlooked. The people are more insensible to the appeals of the gospel than they were fifty years ago. Where is the pastor who does not know that it is more difficult to secure conversions and revivals of religion than it was in time past? Why should we expect it to be otherwise? Why should any one confess his sins, if sin is not an intruder? Why should any one repent, if sin is nothing to repent of? Why should any one be converted, if there is nothing to be converted from? Is repentance possible to one who has lost the sense of sin?

Is it not time to consider whither we are drifting? Sin is always busy, but we were never startled as we are to-day by crimes breaking out in circles where we had a right to expect better things. It is plain that multitudes of respectable people are living a double life. They are making a fair show outwardly, and cherishing secret sins, hoping to escape detection and never lose their respectability. They care more for their respectability than for their integrity. It is plain that very strong preaching is needed to-day. It is no time to mince matters. It is not a time for soft words. We must preach the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, until men shall feel that sin is exceeding sinful.—New York Advocate.

The Latest Thousand-Dollar Offer for Bible Authority for Sunday Observance

By K. C. RUSSELL

K. C. RUSSELL

The Winnipeg (Manitoba) Free Press of April 21, 1910, contains the climax of a newspaper discussion between Dr. Frederic B. Duval, a prominent Protestant minister, and A. Gerritsma, P. P., a prominent Roman Catholic priest, both of Winnipeg. The controversy was concerning the claim of Catholics that theirs is the true church, over and, further, regarding their assumed authority, etc. The climax was finally reached when “Father” A. Gerritsma concluded his closing article with an offer of a thousand dollars for a text of Scripture proving Sunday observance. His exact words are as follows:—

“If Dr. Duval denies the church the right to legislate, why does he, contrary to the teaching of the Bible, obey her in regard to the observance of the Sunday? The Protestant Bible says plainly: ‘Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath day,’ and in hundreds of other places both in the Old and New Testaments the Bible insists on the observance of the Sabbath day. Now, every child in school knows that the Sabbath day is Saturday, the seventh day of the week; yet, with the exception of the Seventh-day Adventists, all Protestant denominations keep the Sunday instead of the Sabbath day, because the Catholic Church made this change in the first ages of Christianity. I hereby offer Dr. Duval one thousand dollars if he will show me one passage either in the Protestant or Catholic Bible, in the Old or New Testaments, where it tells us to observe the Sunday.”

It is needless to say that Dr. Duval has not yet produced a text of Scripture in proof of Sunday observance, or claimed the one thousand dollars offered by “Father” Gerritsma. It is now over twenty-six years since “Father” Enright made his celebrated offer of a thousand dollars for a text of Scripture proving Sunday-keeping, but no person has as yet brought forward the text and claimed the money. The failure on the part of Protestants to produce a text of Scripture for Sunday observance stands as a tacit admission that they know there is no divine authority for the Sunday institution. What people need most to-day is the Holy Spirit’s presence to convict them of their duty, and not more evidence as to which day is the Sabbath.

Takoma Park, D. C.

Sympathy for Our Neighbors

By George Macdonald

A VERY great part of the disputes in the world come from our having a very keen feeling of our own troubles, and a very dull feeling of our neighbor's; for if the case were reversed, and our neighbor's condition became ours, ten to one our judgment would be reversed likewise.—George Macdonald.

All Things

By Pearl Waggoner

PEARL WAGGONER

“All things work together for good to them that love God.”

BRIGHTLY glowing, ever shining, Are the sun, the moon, the stars; Why give way to sad repining In this glorious world of ours? For beyond that radiant splendor, Weary child of human woe, Waits for thee God’s comfort tender, And the joy that angels know.

Yield thou not to this thy sorrow With an overwhelming grief: E’en for thee a bright to-morrow Soon shall dawn with sweet relief; And, though long the time is seeming, It will come — ’twill tarry not; E’en the stars, so brightly beaming, Tell that God has not forgot.

Learn to read the blessed story Blazoned on the heights above, As they tell in words of glory, God is living, God is love. He is living, he is reigning; Ruler; he, o’er every land; O, then trust, without complaining! For thy times are in his hand.

Though the clouds may ofttimes gather, Back of them the sun shines still; Shade and sun but work together To perform for thee God’s will. Day and night are rightly blended, Earth needs rain as well as sun; Soon its beauty would be ended If it heaven’s showers should shun.

Welcome, then, the sun’s bright splendor; Welcome, too, the fading light: Stars, with all their radiance tender, Can be seen alone at night. Naught thou feelest but it reaches God’s great Father-heart of love; Naught but faith and goodness teaches, Fitting thee for life above.

Hinsdale, Ill.

The Fallacy of Soothing Sirups

By Mrs. E. S. Richards, M. D.

MRS. E. S. RICHARDS, M. D.

No greater mistake can be made by the young mother than that of giving soothing sirups or powders to her infant. It matters not that the advertisement states, “This preparation contains no harmful drugs.” The public should have learned by this time that the advertisers of patent medicines can not be relied upon to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” The principal ingredients in the average soothing sirup are alcohol and some form of opium, as laudanum, paregoric, morphin, etc.; and no drugs are more injurious to infants and young children than these.

That such sirups are soothing there can be no doubt, but they can soothe only by stupefying the nerves and delicate brain cells of the little patient. No drug is more poisonous, none more quickly works irreparable damage to the user, than opium and its preparations. It destroys the nerve-cell substance; it weakens the tissue of the brain; it sends out into the world the poor, helpless beings who later fill our reform schools, insane asylums, and drunkards’ graves.

Mothers may not at first see the connection between soothing sirups and drunkenness, but unfortunately it is often a short, straight road that connects the two. The delicate nervous system, so seriously unbalanced by soothing sirups in infancy, may not regain its equilibrium in childhood. As the boy approaches manhood, he may become a slave to cigarette-smoking, and later to alcohol. The girl may become an inveterate tea-drinker, and later a victim of that form of drunkenness which begins with the use of patent-medicine tonics and bitters. And all because the delicate nerve-cells—drugged in infancy—never ceased to cry out for artificial stimulation or stupefaction.

To soothe a baby with anything but pure water, good food, fresh air, and loving arms, is to send it out into the world an unbalanced, helpless being. Much of the fretfulness and irritability of infancy and early childhood are due to errors in feeding and general management. The mistakes most commonly made by the mother or the nurse may be summed up as follows:—

Failure to give the baby frequent drinks of pure water.
Too frequent and irregular feeding, causing indigestion and colic.
Lack of fresh air both night and day.
Irregular and disturbed sleep.
Neglect of constipation.
Clothing the baby too warmly.
Insufficient clothing of the extremities in cold weather.
Lack of personal cleanliness.
Failure to protect the little one from mosquito and other insect bites.

It is unnecessary to consider at length these various causes of fretfulness in infants. However, the first one mentioned deserves special attention, as it is so generally ignored by even thoughtful mothers. Some years ago a mother came to us in great distress about her ten-months-old baby. Until a few days prior to the mother’s visit, the child had been under the care of a nurse, but was at the time under the sole care of the mother. The baby had become more and more fretful, until at the time of the consultation he seemed to be possessed with a very demon. He would scold and fret and scream by turns, though the screaming predominated. When offered food, he rejected it with the utmost scorn. We examined the child carefully, but found nothing wrong with him. Then suddenly the thought came, Perhaps the child is thirsty. A glass of water was brought, which was taken by the babe in one long, eager draught. At last his longing was satisfied, and he was soon in a peaceful sleep. Poor mite! he was reduced to a condition of almost mania simply because this thoughtless mother had failed to supply his natural craving for water.

Babies are ofttimes more uncomfortable than we realize. Is it any wonder that they fret, when they have no other way of expressing their discomfort? How unwise to soothe a baby with stupefying drugs when so simple a thing as a drink of water, a clean, dry napkin, or a warming of the feet may make the little one blissfully happy.

Wahroonga, N. S. W.

Immodest Dress

On the page devoted to the “Plain Ideas of a Plain Country Woman” in the Ladies’ Home Journal for August, some very plain facts are very plainly set forth. While we deplore the strides made by organized vice, and the increasing immorality in all classes of society, it is the part of wisdom to recognize the fact that evil does not spring full-fledged into being on the instant. Rather, it is a growth, a development, having its roots often in surroundings and under conditions where least expected. Some of these conditions, which form a nourishing—almost a forcing—soil for the justly deplored immorality of the present day are so trenchantly portrayed in these words of “The Country Contributor” that it is a privilege to give them a wider reading:—

“I am not a stupid old woman, who talks about the good old times, and prophesies destruction for the rising generation. On the contrary, I never give way to the discouraging thought that things are growing worse. Women are much more comfortable in their clothes than they were when I was a child. I am convinced, too, that we are right in doing away with heavy underwear of the sort that holds impurities close to the body, and closes the pores of the skin. There is a medium of common sense regarding all these things; and while there is no doubt that many women and girls commit acts of sheer madness in going too thinly clad in winter, I believe that good will, in the end, result from discarding very heavy underwear.

“The thin bodice, or blouse, has become a fixture in woman’s apparel, and is in itself an evidence of our advance in common sense. When I was a girl, the odd waist was a thing practically unknown. All our dresses had ‘bodies,’ or ‘basques,’ or, perhaps, polonaises; and everything, except the sheerest wash fabric, was lined and interlined, and

stiffened with crinoline and stays.

“... When I was a girl, it was thought necessary for women going to public places to wear some little accessory, such as a cape, mantilla, scarf, or fichu, to hide the figure. Our skirts were more flowing, and the number of petticoats we wore was appalling—to the laundress at least. I wonder how we carried all the things we wore. I remember seeing my pretty young sister dress for a party with four stiffly starched white petticoats! On a sunshiny day, if we wore a light gown, our precautions lest somebody might ‘see through us’ were painful; and the girl who looked as if she had not on enough petticoats was disgraced. We seldom went up-town when I was a girl.

“I look at the girls of to-day, swinging along bareheaded, their corset-covers strung on pink or blue ribbons shining boldly through thin ‘peek-a-boo’ waists, their thin skirts outlining their figures, and their feet clad in frivolous pumps, and I do wonder sometimes where it is going to stop. And then I wonder, too, if, perhaps, we were not a little happier, even in our hampered state, than are the girls to-day with all their freedom to explore many things that were mysteries to us. I lived in a little village (and live there still), and I never lost the sense of novelty in going up-town where the stores were, or failed to draw somewhat on my courage in crossing the ‘north side of the square,’ which was for years the principal business center of the town. If I had walked across that square bareheaded, and with my neck and arms exhibited to the gaze of every man, rough or gentle, whom I might meet there, I would have been set down as a girl of only one type, and nice people would have snubbed me. . . .

“People are putting their heads together a good deal in late years over the immorality of young men at college. It is admitted that conditions are awful, yet what are we to do? Does it never occur to girls and women that they are very largely responsible for the morals of the men in their world? I am convinced that the general appearance of girls and women on the streets, at places of amusement, and even at home, has, in late years, an immoral effect upon young men. There is much in modern fashions to suggest our idea of the ancient Jezebel. I heard a city man of much sane judgment say that in these days a man could scarcely distinguish a fashionable lady from the more prosperous of the women of the town.

“I went with a wealthy friend of mine to look at a gown she had thought of purchasing. The saleswoman told her she had sold it that very morning to one of the most notorious women in the city. In my eyes the gown had been from the start a wretched rag of tawdry finery, unfit for a lady to wear; but I knew many ladies who were wearing such gowns, and who thought them ‘dead swell,’ and the price of the ‘little gown,’ as they called it, was one hundred fifty dollars. Now the fact that a lovely lady and the mistress of a house of ill fame should take a fancy to the same gown, and that the latter should get it, to the chagrin of the former, is in my mind significant of my argument that there is something wrong with the fashions, and that they are based on lines of immorality. The odd shapes in hats, the queer effects all along the line of personal adornment, are not, and can never be, ladylike, no matter how ‘popular’ they are.

“Among other things which I think bear the patent stamp of pure immorality may be mentioned the ‘peek-a-boo’ waist. Its name certainly should convey to us its manifest impropriety. Yet I have heard girls speak of these waists by this name in the presence of young men. Have you thought, mother, of the sheer bad taste exhibited here, to say nothing of the impropriety? What can be the object of a hole in a waist, save to show what is under it? You say the girl’s corset-cover and the dainty ribbon that ties it ‘look so pretty.’ Doubtless your daughter looks pretty in her night-dress, but you do not wish her to sit on the front veranda in it. Yet would not this be almost as proper a proceeding as her going down-town with her underwear plainly displayed through the open pattern of her ‘peek-a-boo’ waist?

“If you ask me plainly if I believe that such dressing on the part of nice girls has an immoral effect upon the young men they associate with, I answer frankly: ‘Yes.’ It is a breaking down of safeguards we once set up for young folks, and I believe the breaking down of these safeguards leaves the transition from youthful passion to plain immorality a much simpler step than it was in the old days of greater modesty and a more severe moral code. The girl herself may not, indeed, suffer from this exposure of her charms, because she does it unconsciously. Woman’s vanity blinds her to the impropriety of the thing she is doing, and she forgets that she may thus harm others without actually suffering herself.”

Optimist and Pessimist

JIM JONES is an optimist, and Bill Brown of the same town is a pessimist. When it rains, Bill Brown complains that it is going to get muddy; but Jim Jones, wreathed in smiles, says that rain is a very good thing to lay the dust. When the sun shines again, Bill kicks about the heat; but Jim, still smiling, says that sunshine is a good thing to dry up the mud.

Bill complains that business is not half as good as it was when it was twice as good as it is. Jim congratulates himself that business is twice as good as it was when it was only half as good as it is.

These two men, living in the same town and under the same natural conditions, see things differently, and the one is always happy, and the other always miserable. The difference lies back of their eyes, not in front of them.

They are not any peculiar types of men. They are not confined to any particular town. They are everywhere throughout the world.

The pessimist goes about with a lantern, peering into the dark places, looking for meanness and things to find fault about. The optimist goes about in the bright sunlight, looking for the beautiful things, and finding lots of them.

The optimist rises in the morning with gladness in his heart, sunshine in his face, and smiles upon his lips. The mere privilege of living and enjoying nature is priceless satisfaction to him. He gets good out of life every moment of his existence.

The pessimist not only warps his mind, but his physique as well, and his influence on others is decidedly bad.—News-Scimitar.

A Word to Mothers

TEACH the children to enjoy plain food and simple pleasures.

Trust your child. Take it for granted that he will do right.

Don’t fail to be interested in everything that interests your children.

Remember that God understands your child better than you do, and consult him.

Allow children to hear nothing against their teacher or the school government.

Never allow a child to cry long when hurt, nor to strike the object that hurt it.

Make the Bible an interesting book to your children, and encourage memorizing its verses.

When possible, administer punishment along the line of offense, thus teaching that wrong-doing brings its own penalty.

Take an interest in your children’s affairs. Never be too busy to encourage attempts at progress in the right direction.—Selected.

The Point of View

By Nixon Waterman

WHETHER or not we are happy, depends much on our point of view. The disposition to look at everything through kind and beautiful eyes makes all the world more kind and beautiful. If we are gloomy within, the whole world appears likewise. Perhaps the two ways of looking at things could not be better set forth than in these lines by E. J. Hardy:—

“How dismal you look!” said a bucket to his companion, as they were going to the well.

“Ah!” replied the other, “I was reflecting on the uselessness of our being filled; for, let us go away never so full, we always come back empty.”

“Dear me! how strange to look at it that way,” said the other bucket; “now I enjoy the thought that however empty we come, we always go away full. Only look at it in that light, and you will always be as cheerful as I am.”—Nixon Waterman.

China

By W. A. WESTWORTH

W. A. WESTWORTH

How the hearts of God’s people are gladdened when, in the columns of the REVIEW, they read that an action has been taken by the Mission Board, assigning a worker to some far-off land to carry the blessed news of the third angel’s message to those who sit in darkness. How our spirits rise when we hear that this action has been carried out, and the workers have gone. But sometimes we fail to look at the situation as it really is, and to weigh the facts and conditions which the workers in distant lands have to face.

Mention has been made in the REVIEW of the Chang-sha riots. God intervened in a marked manner to save the lives of our workers there, and for this we can not praise him enough. As the result of the terrible strain of that time, all foreign help is now withdrawn from this most important city, and Brother and Sister P. J. Laird are now in the States, having been obliged to take a sick leave of absence.

Now comes added news from the workers at Pakhoi, in Kwangtung. Here Brother A. H. Bach is holding the fort amid the ravages of the plague, which has become so extended and acute that all other missions but ours have abandoned their work for the time. Some extracts from a letter just at hand will faintly portray some of the conditions met by those in this field:—

“It is now 8 A. M. I arose at six, and have already seen fourteen coffins pass my door. To hear the desperate howling of the two or three followers is something awful. Two houses from my home a young woman just died. Last night she was apparently well. Three houses in the other direction a man lies in the street in a delirious fever; he will soon die. A group of soldiers is passing now, leading one of their company around the town. One of his ears has been cut, because he should have watched the street, but instead entered a house and stole what he could get.

“My house is full of women and children, refugees. They dare not go to their own homes on account of plague. In my courtyard I have a band of boys. If we could start a school now, we would get plenty of pupils. These children have no father, no mother, their parents having died during the epidemic of the plague.

“How did it all start?—In the beginning of the second Chinese month it was rumored that the plague was in the town. No one paid any attention to it, there was no attempt at isolation or disinfection, and thus it spread rapidly. The dead bodies were removed at night; and during the day, business went on as before. After eight or ten days, however, business stopped; the houses and shops were closed; and the people started to fight the bad spirits, whom they supposed to be the originators of the disease. Coffins were scarce, and the bodies were simply wrapped in straw, and carried out. Rats died by the thousands, and were left in the street. An odor resulted that was indescribable. The town clerk, with the gentry, professed to discover that two cloth lions, carried through the streets, would drive the bad spirits away. A large procession was accordingly arranged, and the people carried two ugly lions through the streets. Every ten steps they knelt down, and asked for protection. The next morning the town clerk was dead, and the disease had spread more than ever. A new deputation of the best men, merchants of Pakhoi, proceeded to one of the idol temples, asking for advice; and the idol answered (through the priests) that the procession had been too small; he must have a bigger one. Then the mayor of the town and the gentry started out. They collected over three thousand dollars, and an idol procession was arranged. It went on for a whole day—and the next day not a man of the entire committee was left alive. The mayor had died, also seven agents of the largest shops. In three days after the procession, two hundred eight persons had gone to their graves. Then the priests said that the disease would carry away one thousand persons, because the idol needed just that number. Great rejoicing filled every heart. The dead were eagerly counted; yet when one thousand had died, twenty more were down to die. Then the people called the priests to curse the gods. A tower sixty feet high was built, and some Taoist priests went on it to curse the gods for seven days. But the plague continued just the same.

“Then the people ran away, leaving their houses and belongings; and bands of thieves were formed, stealing, robbing, threatening everywhere. Terror reigned. The soldiers, who ought to protect life, were the worst of all.

“There was one rich man’s house where all the people (over twenty) died in a week’s time. The owner had a beautiful flower garden, which he called ‘Love-the-life Garden.’ This property has been taken by the town; and all strangers who have not their own home, or who live in rented quarters, are carried there as soon as they are known to have the plague. It is a spot of lovely flowers and death-stricken people. O, the sad sights that meet the eye there! the fearful cries of the people in their last state! The dead, the half-dead, with decaying corpses, are there; and an unspeakable

horror lies over the whole place. I went there several times to preach to the dying; however, my chair-bearer contracted the disease, and died, and I had to stop going.

“There are in the town five missions,—the English, the German Lutheran, the Roman Catholic, the Independent New Testament Church, and ours. All the other missions have closed their stations; but I kept on, trusting that the Lord, who put me with this message in Pakhoi, is able to keep me. I do not believe in fatalism; but I do believe in a living God. He gave me this work, he put me here, and his angels are here, too.

“One evening after a street preaching, I said: ‘Any time, night or day, I am at your service. If you desire to be saved, come any time.’ After midnight a man knocked at my door, and said he wanted now to listen to the preaching. I saw at once that the dreadful disease was on him, and he was in the first stage of delirium. I did all I could for him, to help him pray and accept Christ; and it seemed as if he understood it. It was a joy to tell him about the Coming One. After daybreak he went away, and at nine o’clock he was at rest. May he awake, when Christ returns, saved by his precious blood.

“Our Bible woman, Wang Pat Sham, a true Christian, kept on visiting, and contracted the disease. One morning during prayers she collapsed, and we found that the plague had her in its iron grip. She already had the plague-boils, and was quite helpless. All who were gathered in the meeting were much afraid. I do not know how it was; but a joy fell over me, so that in praying I could not stop thanking God for his help already given to that woman. I prayed for her, and read some texts of Scripture to comfort her. She said that she felt God’s power in her to resist. When she was a little better, she offered a most touching prayer, commending herself to God’s keeping. Two hard days and nights followed; then the plague-boils opened. She was saved, but was very weak. Now she is at work again. She is the only person in the whole town who had the disease and survived. Truly, God answers prayer. We had an eight days’ prayer-meeting, very well attended, and we quoted the ninety-first psalm, I believe, more than a thousand times. Not one of our inquirers has died or been taken. This is a wonder before our eyes, and in the eyes of the heathen as well. We glory in our Lord. Our mouth is full of praise, because his goodness endureth forever.”

After reading this experience, you can see, brethren and sisters, a glimpse of some of the terribly real things in China. But there seems no fear for personal safety among our workers. God is good, and we believe that he will care for his own. But when we consider the work before us, and the few laborers, our hearts sometimes almost faint. One hundred dollars pays a native evangelist, with his traveling expenses, for a full year.

It seems that there must be many who could undertake to support one or more of these native workers, and thus hasten the time when such sorrow as herein described will be no more.

Just now we are entering the heated season; and as we get news from some of the interior stations, telling of the thermometer in their compounds registering 104° F. in the shade, we wonder how that $300,000 Fund is coming on.

When we get calls,—and they are constantly coming to us,—asking for light, and when we think of the fact that the four hundred twenty-five millions of China must hear the message ere the Master comes, we long to have our printing plant producing the word of life.

Brethren and sisters, the workers in China are all glad to be here; but we need material to prosecute the campaign,—money to provide the much-needed facilities, and men and women of consecration to lead out in the closing work of God in this sorrowing, sin-cursed heathen land.

Shanghai.

German East Africa

By E. KOTZ

E. KOTZ

AFTER a furlough in Germany of about eight months, I was glad to arrive in Africa again with my wife on April 14. We had to hasten to our station, as Elder B. Ohme and his family were preparing to return home on the next steamer, Brother Ohme’s health being very poor.

The railway is now completed quite near to our stations. To Kihuirio, which is in the prairies, it is only about twenty-five kilometers; and it is some twenty-five kilometers more to Friedenstal, our main station.

On nearing Kihuirio, we were suddenly surrounded by a crowd of black people, who cried, “Hurrah!” and showed all signs of joy. I recognized my old pupils, whom I had instructed for three and one-half years, and who had come with their new teacher, Brother W. Kolling, to greet my wife and me. I was glad, indeed, to see these well-known faces again, and to learn from Brother Kolling that so many of them had followed the call of God. When we arrived in this country about five years ago, and learned the customs of the people, we knew at once that if God’s Spirit did not open their hearts, we would preach in vain. But we are glad to know that our Leader is “he that is holy, he that is true, he that hath the key of David, he that openeth, and no man shutteth.”

Like most of the tribes in Africa, the Wapare pray to the spirits of their ancestors. These spirits are sleeping; but if a man falls ill, or any other accident happens to him, the oracle tells him that the spirits have awakened, and he sets to work to do everything possible to reconcile them, and make them sleep again. Their common prayer is: “Nkoma shinjiani!” meaning, “Spirits, sleep!” Their hearts are filled with fear of these spirits. If a woman gives birth to twins, the sorcerer says that these twins are a sign of the spirits; who have awakened, and that the parents must reconcile them by killing the children; so the poor little babes are murdered by their own parents. This is but one example; there are many others just as bad. One who has never come in close contact with the heathen in these countries can not imagine the great darkness that dwells in their hearts. We are thankful to our Lord, who, in spite of our weakness, has called us to bring the good tidings to this dark land, and who has added his blessing to our efforts.

We have now three stations here,—Friedenstal, Kihuirio, and Vua. We have also erected nine out-schools, and two more will be built soon. These schools are taught by baptized native teachers. The number of our native Christians is fifty-three. About one thousand young people come to our schools every day, and they are very willing to learn. Some days ago I introduced my language teacher, Anderea Senamwai, to fractions. I can not describe the joy he showed on learning something new. He ran away and came back after a while, his blackboard covered with fractions, and asked me to show him more of these “sweet things.” I think Anderea is one of our best students. Remember all our Christians in your prayers, but especially Anderea, that the Lord may keep him humble, and that he may become a successful evangelist for his people. We are of good courage as we see the Lord’s work spreading over the country.

Friedenstal.

Argentina, South America

By H. S. PRENER

H. S. PRENER

While my wife has been recuperating at the sanitarium from the effects of a year and a half in Brazil, I have been out among our Spanish and German churches in Crespo, Seguí, Mansilla, Concordia, Galarza, Urdinarraín, and Gualeguaychu. The Lord gave me great freedom in the use of the languages, and the Spirit attended the word spoken. We have a wonderful message, a purifying, all-powerful message.

To the question, “Are the Brazilians stable?” the president of the largest Christian college in Brazil, with seven hundred students, confessed to me that he saw no difference in the Brazilian after conversion; and this after fifty years of observation. Almost immediately he acknowledged the lack of power in the evangelism of to-day. I was glad for his discrimination between the gospel of God and the evangelism of to-day; for the true gospel is still “the power of God unto salvation.” The third angel’s message has the mighty power to change a man all over. Hundreds of South Americans have found the third angel’s message powerful enough to separate them from habitual sin, inherited tendencies, liquor, tobacco, coffee, and maté.

God’s message is a living and active power, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing its way till it penetrates soul and spirit,—not the joints only, but the very marrow,—and detecting the inmost thoughts and purposes of the mind. We are happy to be connected with it, and we at this end of the earth send greetings to those in other parts.

At the South American Union Conference it was decided that I should make Argentina my field of labor. Our effort for the city of Diamante is the first one that has been made for years. We have a church numbering twenty or more, and several families are deeply interested. My wife is now able to be with me, and the cool autumn weather is already telling on us for the better.

Diamante.

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