The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1896, Page 26

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26

The Lutheran Pioneer.

Opening up Africa.

How strangely, yet how rapidly God has
opened the doors of Africa. Only a few years
ago, the map of the vast district in the interior
was marked “‘unexplored.’’ Little was known
of the country, except its 6000 miles of sea-
coast and its great desert, and that narrow
border of country which lay next the ocean
or lined the Nile. The heroic Livingstone,
entering from the south, seeking to know
something of the unknown, and open a path
for the missionary, died of fever, amid the
swamps of Lake Bangueolo, in 1873. His
death set in motion many agencies for the
evangelization of Africa, and among them all
none is to be more
emphasized than his
influence onStanley.

H. Stanley says,
‘What has been
wanted and what I
have been endeay-
oring to ask for the
poor Africans has
been the good offices
of Christians eyer
since Livingstone
taught me during
those four months
that I was with him.
In 1871, I went to
him as prejudiced
as the biggest athe-

.istin London. But
there came for me
a long time for re-
flection. I was out
there, away from a
worldly world. I saw
this old man there,
and asked myself,
‘How on earth does
he stay here? Is he
insane? What is it
that inspires him?’

“For months after we met, I simply found
myself listening to him, wondering at the old
man carrying out all that was said in the
Bible, ‘Leave all things and follow Me.’ But
little by little his sympathy for others became
‘contagious; my sympathy was aroused; sec-
ing his piety, his gentleness, his zeal, his
earnestness, and how he went quietly about
his business, I was converted by him.”

No sooner had Livingstone’s death become
known, than Stanley determined to become his
successor in opening up Africa to civilization.
Entering at Zanzibar in 1874, he emerged at
the month of the Congo in 1877, and the

_ greatest step in the exploration of equatorial

Africa was thus taken. The next ship that
sailed from England after hearing this news
bore missionaries. They began to plant sta-
tions from the Congo’s mouth to the Equator,
vell as about-the great lakes of the East.
this is a wide door of opportunity, what

shall be said of the obligation? In Stanley’s
journey of seven thousand miles, from Zan-
zibar to the mouth of the Congo, he saw
neither a Christian disciple nor a man who
had ever even heard the Gospel message.

—s +o oe

Curing Sick Children.

Not far from my house in Sivas, Turkey,
writes a missionary, was the tomb of some
reputed holy man, and on pleasant days I have
seen quite a procession of Oriental women,
wrapped in sheets, carrying babes or leading
little children who could walk, passing round
and round his tomb. Some of the infants

PLOWING IN INDIA.

were very feeble, and the other children were
often lame and deformed. It was a pitiable
sight, these mothers with their sick little ones,
seeking to cure them at the dead saint’s shrine.
The path was worn hard by their constant
coming.

“Do the children get better??? we asked
one day.

**Inshallah!’’? (By God’s grace) was the
characteristic answer.

‘Do they all find a cure?’’

“Some are left too long before they are
brought. Some are fated to die!”’

As a matter of fact, the children who had
no incurable disease were often benefited by
the daily walk in the open air. The tomb was
just by the city’s limits, and beyond lay the
open fields and the mountains. The old saint’s
dust received credit for the health-giving
power of fresh air and mountain breezes!

One day I saw by the roadside a large,

thorny bush. It was thickly hung with rags
of every imaginable color. The older mis-
sionary, who was riding with me, explained:
‘Some pilgrim once rested in that bush, and,
departing, hung on it a strip of his garment.
Now many who pass leave a like token, that
they may share in the benefit of the pilgrim’s
prayers.’’

Just then a traveler paused at the curiously
decorated bush, and bowed for a moment in
silent prayer.

‘‘He is praying,’’ I said, ‘‘for those who
have left these strips of their garments to re-
quest those who pass to remember the wearers.
That bush is a call for us to pray for the sick,
burdened, superstitious, but pleading, multi-
tudes who pass along
this road !’’

Such silent calls
everywhere witness
to the need of men,
and to their blind
search for a source
of help.

— <<

He saved his Bible.

Those who go away
from home on their
summer . vacations
and leave their Bible
behind may find a
helpful lesson in
the following. The
steamer Scotia, it is
said, once picked up
a dozen shipwrecked
sailors in mid-ocean,
among them a boy
twelve years old.

‘‘Who are you?”
said the captain.

The answer was,
“I’m a Scotch boy.
My father and my
mother are dead, and I am on my way to
America.”

‘What have you here?’ said the captain
as he opened the boys jacket and took hold
of a rope around the boy’s body.

“It’s a rope,” said the boy.

“But what is that tied by this rope under
your arm?’

“That, sir, is my mother’s Bible. She told
me never to lose that.’’

‘Could you not have saved something else?”

“Not and save that.’’

“Did you expect to drown?’’

“Yes, sir; but I meant to take my Bible
down with me.”

<< 0<ae 2 ee

A REMARK of an old minister is commended
to all preachers who are tempted to complain
of a small congregation: —‘‘It is as large a
congregation, perhaps, as you will want to
account for at the day of judgment.”