The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1905, Page 11

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The Lutheran Pioneer.

11

tuitously. If, now, the Gospel be a gift, and offers

us a gift, as it truly does, it is certain that it de-
mands nothing of us; but the Law neither gives
nor presents us anything, but demands of us, and
demands that which it is impossible for us to give.
Luther.

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Beginning of Missions in Greenland.

When missions were begun among the stupid
Greenlanders, it seemed as hard to change them as
it would be to melt the ice around the North Pole.
They made fun of the missionaries; one stole a Bible
and sewed the precious leaves together to make him-
self a coat; during preaching they would pretend
to sleep and snore, or drown the singing by beating
drums. They stole the food and papers of the mis-
sionaries, stoned them, and when their food was
gone, refused to sell them any. The Eskimos were
dirty and low in their ways, the mothers licked
their children instead of washing them, just as cats
do kittens. At last the Gospel story touched the
heart of one Eskimo named Kayarnak. He drew
near to the missionary, saying: ‘‘Tell it to me once
more, for I, too, want to be saved.”? From that day
Kayarnak’s heart and life was changed. Daily he
came to the missionary’s hut and sat with tears
rolling down his cheeks listening to the stories of
Jesus. The other Eskimos, seeing his changed life
and actions, began to listen too. It must be a won-
derful book which had so changed him. They, too,
wanted to be changed. Cruelty gave place to kind-
ness, sins were confessed and forgiveness sought;
they began to love and even to help others. Kayar-
nak became their teacher, and even taught the mis-
sionaries their language and helped them to trans-

_ late the Bible. :

+ e-» —-—____

The Prayer of Faith.

Dr. Luther says: ‘‘I know, as often as I have
earnestly prayed, when it has been real earnest with
me, I have indeed been richly heard, and have ob-
tained more than I have prayed for. God has for
atime delayed, but nevertheless the help has come.
Ah, how truly grand a thing is the honest prayer
of a true Christian! How mighty is it with God!
That a poor human creature can so speak with the
High Majesty in heaven, and not dread Him, but
know that God is kindly smiling on him for the
sake of Jesus Christ, His dear Son, our Lord and
Saviour! To this end the heart and conscience
must not look back, must not doubt or fear on ac-
count of unworthiness.”

“Only a Boy.”

About a century ago a faithful minister, coming
early to the church, met one of his deacons, whose
face wore a very resolute but distressed expression.

“*T came early to meet you,”’ the deacon said.
“T have something on my conscience to say to you.
Pastor, there must be something radically wrong in
your preaching and work; there has been only one
person added to the church in a whole year, and he
is only a boy.”’

“*T feel it all,’’ the preacher said. ‘‘I feel it, but
God knows that I have tried to do my duty, and I
can trust Him for the results.’’

“*Yes, yes,’’ said the deacon, ‘‘but ‘by their
fruits ye shall know them;’ and one new member
and he, too, only a boy, seems to me rather a slight
evidence of true faith and zeal. I don’t want to be
hard, but I have this matter on my conscience, and
I have done my duty in speaking plainly.”

“‘True,’? said the old man, ‘‘but ‘charity suf-
fereth long and is kind, beareth all things, hopeth
all things.’ Aye, there you have it: ‘hopeth all
things.’ I have great hopes of that one boy —
Robert. Some seed that we sow bears fruit late,
but that fruit is generally the most precious of all.’

The old minister went to the pulpit that day
with a grieved and heavy heart. He closed his dis- ;
course with dim and tedrful eyes. He wished that Ma
his work were done forever, and that he were at
rest among the graves under the blooming trees in
the old churchyard.

He lingered in the dear old church after the rest
were gone. He wished to be alone. The place was
sacred and inexpressibly dear to him. It had been
his spiritual home from his youth. Before this altar
he had prayed over the dead forms of a bygone gen-
eration, and had welcomed the children of a new
generation, and here, yes, here, he had been told
at last that his work was no longer owned and
blessed. : .

No one remained.. No one? ‘‘Only a boy.’?

The boy was Robert Moffat. He watched the
trembling old man. His soul was filled with loy-
ing sympathy. He went to him and laid his hand
on his black gown.

‘“Well, Robert?” said the minister. * ;

“Do you think if I' were willing to work hard for cl
an education I could ever become a preacher?” ‘

‘*A preacher?”’

‘Perhaps a missionary.”

There was a long pause. Tears filled the eyes -
of the old minister. At length he said: ‘‘This*
heals the ache in my heart, Robert. I see the di-

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