The Kingdom comes by the proclamation of its principles. Hence Christ not only teaches his disciples to pray, "Thy Kingdom come," but he also commands, "Go ye into all the world. and preach the gospel to every creaNot by physical force, not by armies, not by territorial conquest is the coming of the Kingdom to be sought, though doubtless wars and revolutions will accompany its coming. The Kingdom is to come by the diffusion of its principles, the heralding of its truth, the world-wide proclamation of its Gospel. Do we inquire like the disciples at the beginning, "Tell us when shall these things be, and what shall be the sign of thy coming?" To us, as to them, the Lord replies, "Ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars; see that ye be not troubled; for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. Nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom,-and this Gospel of the Kingdom shall be preached in all the world for a witness unto all nations; and then shall the end come." The time of the consummation of the Kingdom no man knows, nor even the angels of God. It is not for us to know the times and the seasons which the Father hath

WEST ACTON, MASS.

put in his own power. It is sufficient that he has assured us of the certainty of the Kingdom's coming, and also of the means and conditions of its coming. It is for us as faithful subjects to obey the King and proclaim the Gospel of the Kingdom in all the world.

The Kingdom comes by individual effort. Every subject of the Kingdom is under solemn obligation to do all within his power for the increase and coming of the Kingdom. Every member of the Kingdom is called to personal service, to a service which demands his best effort, the full consecration of himself and all that he has, and a service that is to end only with his life or the final coming of the Kingdom. Only to such servants will the highest commendation of the King and the rewards of the Kingdom be given. To every subject the King says, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." There are no distinctions of persons nor rank in the Kingdom. The most honorable are the most faithful. Therefore the greatest honor and highest reward are within the reach of all. Every subject is called to be an ambassador for Christ, a laborer with the King. The King expects every subject to do his duty.

The Kingdom comes by the conversion of souls. First there was only the King. Then the King called two subjects, Peter and Andrew. Then two others were called, James and John, and so on until all the apostles of the Kingdom were called. Then through these many others were called, and so the process has continued through all the years. Thus the Kingdom has been coming and increasing. Every soul converted to

Christ marks the advance of the Kingdom. Every genuine revival is a sign of the progressing Kingdom. No wonder that there is joy in the presence of God over the conversion of one soul. Every conversion is a new triumph of the Kingdom, a new trophy for Christ. We seek the conversion of multitudes, and this is right in both prayer and effort, but who can estimate the gain to the Kingdom in the conversion of one soul? How often by the power of God one converted soul has been made the means for the conversion of a multitude. When Saul of Tarsus was converted what a triumph for the Kingdom! When Judson was converted what an advance of the Kingdoin! Therefore do not think lightly of the conversion of one soul. The results of one conversion may be immeasurable. While we desire and pray and labor that thousands may be converted, let us remember that such increase may begin with the conversion of one. We seek with no greater promise of success for the coming of the Kingdom than in the way of the conversion of

souls..

The Kingdom comes by prayer. "After this manner therefore pray ye, Thy Kingdom come." Prayer is a divinely ordained means for the coming of the Kingdom. Without prayer the most elaborate plans and the most labored effort will fail. Immeasurable is the power of prayer. Mighty revivals from Pentecost down through the ages and in all lands have followed upon earnest individual and concerted prayer. The whole work of modern missions, with its vast un

dertakings and accomplishments, is the result of prayer. Missionary fields have been opened by prayer, which war and diplomatic influence failed to open. If the whole record of prayer and its results should be spread before us, how we would marvel. Even the limited record which we have is the most marvellous record of history. It is lamentable that we have so little faith in prayer, that we pray so little, often with reluctance, always with small confidence, for the coming of the Kingdom. Our confidence is too much in men, in means and methods. We imagine that the Kingdom is to come by the way and means of great institutions and societies. societies. These These have have their place, but too much dependence on these will result in failure. In all other ways, and more than by all other ways, the Kingdom comes by prayer. There is no power equal to the power of prayer. Shall we seek and use this power? The Hand that upholds the worlds and moves the stars in their courses invites the prayerful touch of human hearts to bring the Kingdom of righteousness and salvation among men. The puny finger of a child touches the battery which speeds the electric current to set in motion mighty forces. The prayerful touch of the humblest child of God can move the arm that sways the universe. Say not that you can do nothing for the coming of the Kingdom. You will do the greatest thing that can be done for the coming of the Kingdom, if you are loyal to the King, and if, as the King teaches, you pray, "Thy Kingdom come."

IT was a beautiful May morning when I rode with a friend, a grain dealer with farm raising, out through our beautiful southern Ohio roads to the region where he had spent all of his earlier days, past fields and forests, every rod of which was familiar to him. I was the layman and he the professional in rural affairs, and I sat as meekly under his instruction as upon Sundays he was wont to sit, I can only hope with equal profit, under mine.

I was especially interested in his account of the rotation of crops as practised by the wise farmer in this region of country. It seems that one ploughing is made to serve for the raising of three years' crops. After the spring ploughing of the first year there will be put in a crop of corn, which is harvested in the fall. Then amongst the standing stumps of the corn there will be "drilled in" the winter wheat which is to form the crop of the second season. In the spring, at as early a date as possible, when the winter wheat is well started, there will be sown broadcast amongst it the clover seed for the crop of the third season. The wheat grows to maturity and is harvested in early summer, and there is found remaining upon the field after the wheat harvest a young growth of clover, which is well started by fall, and by the next summer is ready to cut. This is the first crop of clover; and with the variety most cultivated in this region (known as the "little red" clover) there springs up immediately a second growth, from which about six weeks later there is gathered the clover seed. The clover sod remaining is then ploughed un

der the next spring, forming the finest basis for the corn crop of the ensuing year, and the rotation is repeated through another three years, four crops thus being harvested, from a single ploughing.

It was at this point in my friend's explanation that I ventured a modest question: "But isn't clover seed an extremely valuable crop?"

"To be sure it is. The most valuable crop per acre that we raise."

Then said I with more confidence, "Why don't our farmers take a field and sow it wholly to clover and cultivate the field carefully for that valuable crop of clover seed, making the most of it? Wouldn't that be far better than to try to raise clover seed in a field where a corn crop and a wheat crop and a previous clover crop have all been raised from a single ploughing; and wouldn't it be far better to sow the clover carefully in a field all by itself than to broadcast it into a field already growing up to wheat?"

"No, indeed," said my friend quickly, "that wouldn't do at all. You see the clover is a slow-growing crop, and if sown in a bare field the weeds would spring up before the clover could get a start. The wheat crop already started keeps out the weeds and is just high enough to serve as a protection for the clover as it comes above the ground in the early spring."

And then I had my parable, for who has ever watchfully observed the growth of a church or of an individual character without witnessing the working of the same principle, namely, that the attempt to secure progress in one direction by the neglect of claims in other directions is a luckless effort?

The father who endeavors to spare his son the hardships and responsibilities which he has himself undergone, in order that the son, unemcumbered by the hard necessity of winning a livelihood, may be able to devote himself wholly to the development of his higher capabilities, finds to his dismay, as a rule, that his boy makes less satisfactory progress than does many a young fellow apparently handicapped by the necessity of caring for the material needs of himself and others. Character, like the clover, is a slow-growing crop, and unless sown amid the grain of all-around responsibility and hard work, there will be a crop of lusty weeds and little else. And the man who imagines he might do great things if he were not burdened by the constant pressure of home needs and the monotonous necessity of bread winning is usually mistaken. It is the man or woman of abundant means and leisure who finds most difficulty in accomplishing any worthy work whatever, while it is usually some busy man, "loaded to the gunwale" with tasks of family support, church activity, civic offices and philanthropic duties, to whom we must look in order to get some additional task accomplished and accomplished well.

crop; and unless the field be sown with the grain of direct missionary beneficence the weeds of selfishness will preempt the ground, leaving but a sorry crop for the home work itself. A Baptist pastor in a state whose white Baptist population, if it is as prosperous as the average of the population, white and black, in the state, must hold state, must hold some twenty-five million dollars' worth of taxable property, reported to one of our papers that the 63,000 white Baptists of his state gave in 1895 to foreign missions, $638; to home missions, $538; to state missions, $817. And yet so far from the local church work profiting by this rigid economy in missionary giving, the 1,200 churches of the state gave but an average of $35 a year to their own church work, or an average of sixtyfive cents per member for a whole year's church privilege. And of the state as a whole it is reported, from other sources of information, that while possessing unusual opportunities for the production of wealth, these have been singularly neglected as a rule. But where neither missionary beneficence, church support, nor ordinary commercial activity is cultivated, it is safe to assume that the crop of weeds is abundant, as would be shown by the expense items for whiskey, tobacco and circuses.

On a far wider scale Protestantism

has demonstrated the fact that the enoromus benevolent activity of this missionary century has developed the growth and prosperity of the home. work to an astonishing degree. In fact, we may set it down as pretty thoroughly established by this time that the church which would "live in clover" must cultivate its crop of missionary grain in simple selfdefence.

OUR street, as we call it, Silk and Satin

Lane, a name first given it doubtless by the residents, from the number of looms engaged in silk and satin weaving on the street, is but a few rods in length, and is narrow, and though chiefly occupied by the residences of the missionaries of the American Baptist Missionary Union, affords almost constant evidence of the blight of heathenism.

First of all is the continuous click of the hammers of the tin-foil beaters, as during the day and far into night they ply their trade to help supply the people at large with fictitious money for the spirits of their dead. It is said there are seventy thousand people in this city alone engaged in the manufacture of spirit money. The increasing sound of the hammers is in itself a tale of lament for fallen humanity, and a dirge for lost souls.

The nearest neighbor on our left is the petty local official, called the Dia-pao, viz., the local guardian; it seems to be his chief duty to go and come at the bidding of the

city magistrate, and help settle any difficulties which may arise in the neighborhood. In appearance he is little else than a bundle of rags and filth, saturated with the fumes of tobacco and stupid from opium smoking. His house is the scene of many pow-wows and fracases, mingled not infrequently with blows and cries of pain. Even the dogs of the neighborhood catch the vicious spirit of this neighbor of ours, and disturb us with their quarrelsome disposition.

Across the street on our right lives a family with a sad history. The father of this family, in the early history of our mission in this city, was often asked by friends and strangers to intercede with me to save the lives of opium eaters, as those are called who would take their own lives by swallowing a small quantity of crude opium, any many a time he led the way, even at midnight, to the home of the would-be suicide and assisted in the work of life saving, but at length he took his own life by hanging in anall shed in the rear of the