THE little cock-boat which I sent out in 1911, "Do Your

Level Best," found such a welcome harborage at every

port touched that I am tempted to launch another.

I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to the Press. As the parts of this venture were put forth-in watertight compartments-the "Sioux City Journal" gave them anchorage, supplied them with sails adorned with good printers' ink and started them out upon the waters of the world. The "Sioux City Tribune" also stood sponsor for some. Others were taken under the sheltering wings of the Chicago "Standard" and the Iowa "Baptist Record" and so habited that they met kindly reception wherever they went; other few reached the Atlantic and were hospitably entertained by the "Watch. man-Examiner" and floated away in goodly apparel for further journeyings.

I desire to acknowledge special obligations to Mr. Joe Mitchell Chapple for the kind use of his great "Heart Throbs," (Copyright 1905 by the Chapple Publishing Company); to Funk & Wagnall's Company for free access to Dr. Duffield's inspiring "English Hymns," (Copyright 1886); and not least to Mr. John Stead for a gracious letter according me generous reference to the royal "Hymns That Have Helped," issued by his father, the late Mr. W. T. Stead. Also to Paxton Hood's splendid "Life of Christmas Evans;" to Ian Maclaren's "Bonnie Brier Bush;" Barrie's "The Little Minister," (Copyright Charles Scribner's Sons); "Pollyanna," (The Page Company) and to "John Brown Verses," (Edmund H. Sears, 1859)-books that will live while language lasts.

In the haste of this compilation, due recognition of some authors to whom reference has been made may have been omitted. My obligations to each one are most gratefully acknowledged.

Solomon says there is nothing new under the sun. I therefore recognize my indebtedness to the hymnology of all past

part of Locksley Hall should be rewritten—and yet possibly the lines:

"Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there

rained a ghastly dew

From the nations airy navies grappling in

the central blue"

but presages the fulfillment of the words:

"Till the war drum throbbed no longer and the
battle-flags were furled,

In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the
world."

The great obstacle to the réalization of this splendid picture of world harmony is human selfishness-the present war is grounded in greed;

"I lived for myself-for myself alone—
Nor thought of aught beside;

Just as if Jesus had never lived,
As if He had never died."

We look longingly for that

****"one far-off divine event

To which the whole creation moves."

Paul and his companions in the night storm cast four anchors and wished for the day-so we, anchored amid difficulties and uncertainties, in perils from the waters-in perils in the city-in perils in the wilderness-in perils from our countrymen-wish for the day when some heavenly alchemy shall fuse us into such a common brotherhood that the poet's prophecy may be fulfilled:

"Love took up the harp of Life and smote on all the
chords with might,

Smote the chord of Self, that trembling passed

in music out of sight."

ELewis

and

Modern Instances

THE rising tide of missionary enthusiasm was sweeping over England. In 1793 William Carey, in spite of the refusal of the East India Company to let him go over in one of their ships lest the preaching of the Gospel should in some way contribute to the loosening of their stranglehold on India, had obtained passage in a Danish vessel, and was moving all India, as well as the homeland, by his missionary zeal and success.

In 1812 Adoniram Judson, another stalwart missionary, went from America to Burma. In 1819 public sentiment had crystallized so far that royal letters were issued by the British government appointing a day for collections in the churches in aid of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel.

Reginald Heber, afterward Bishop of Calcutta, was visiting the Dean of St. Asaph's to remain over the Sunday on which the notable offering was to be taken. On Saturday the dean asked Mr. Heber, already noted for his hymns, to write some verses for Sunday's occasion. Whereupon Mr. Heber wrote the following great hymn, which from that day to this has been the leading, best known missionary hymn of the world:

From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand;
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand;
From many an ancient river,

From many a palmy plain,

They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

What though the spicy breezes

Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;

Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile?
In vain with lavish kindness
The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen, in his blindness,

Bows down to wood and stone.

Can we, whose souls are lighted
By wisdom from on high-
Can we to men benighted

The lamp of life deny?
Salvation! O salvation!

The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth's remotest nation
Has learned Messiah's name.

Waft, waft, ye winds, his story
And you ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory,

It spreads from pole to pole:
Till o'er our ransomed nature
The Lamb, for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,

In bliss returns to reign.

In the meantime a little church in sea-buffeted Haddingtonshire, Scotland, held a meeting of the pastor and the church officers a heavy, oppressive gathering. The senior deacon said: "Pastor, we all love you, and you know it, but do you not think you had better resign? There has not been one convert this year." They did not ask him to resign-they do not do such things in Scotland for anything except a crime; and that is rarely heard of indeed. They believe in God's call, and that when an incumbent's work is done God will open the way