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er admired and esteemed him. Brave men al
ways admire moral courage. From the Gov ernor General ;it lioma, the capital, down to the Chef de I'oste in the remote interior, they have talked with me about him. It was the trader who had indulged in the nefarious traf fic who feared and respected that plain spoken, square shouldered man, whose eyes could hla/.e with lire and whose righteous indignation made senators, diplomats, and a nation pause, con sider, and retrace their steps. The native African, who is himself no cow ard, also had a wholesome respect for this lion hearted missionary. An uprising against the white man was secretely planned. It in \ ??lved a score of native chiefs. Empty hand oil Morrison plunged into the forest, found them and their followers armed to the teeth and in council. Walking calmly into their midst, he chided them for the behavior. Why had they not come to him with their grievances? Was he not their big brother sent by Nzambo ? the great God ? to help them in their troubles? Then, with a show of confidence, he patted the broad shouldered leader on the back and with playful humor slipped his hand over the chief's chin and held him by his thin beard. It was a bold thing to do , but a broad grin broke over the man's face, all sullenness disappeared; they rose up, followed this wonderful white man, filled the mission house and yard, front and hand, until a messenger could be sent across hand, untl a messenger could be sent across the river to the Belgian official for the reply which satisfied their minds. What wonder that Kuonyi Xxila was a name dear to the na tive heart. "The one who never closed the way. Lapslcy and Sheppard found the trail, but Morrison kept it open. It was the way to the great Father of us all. They knew that Kuonyi Nxila's love could be fierce at times, for he hated hypoerasy and deceit ; but they were equally sure that it was tender and true, for was he not. kind to the poor and helpless, and did he not visit the widowed mother in her distress when a poisoned arrow had snatched her only son and stay. Gne scarcely knows which to admire most, the tireless industry with which he applied himself to his daily tasks, the sound judgment in dealing with the perplexing class brought to him for settlement, or the splendid fore sight in the formation of mission policies which were far-reaching in their results. He seemed to write all the time, hold palavers with the people all the time, and plan with the mis sionaries all the time for the extension of evangelistic work into the regions beyond. As official representative of the mission, when I was in Africa, lie wrote more letters in French than in English, and every native within a radius of fifteen days' journey who was in trouble came for advice or sympathy. I re call his having in one day patiently listened to and settled more than ten cases. Sometimes his "medicine was strong," as they styled it, but if the decision dkl not go their way they accepted it because they believed he was fair. 1 got more insight into the depths of Afri can nature during those palavers than by read ing whole volumes. It was all so real and human. One case was that of a man who claimed that his patch of corn had been par tially destroyed by a neighbor's pig. lie de manded a part of the pig in return for the feed which had gone into him. The complaint was turned over fo the elders of the church to investigate as to whether the pig ^eally at? the corn. A second case was that of a claim for lam ages because the trail had been obstructed by a fetish placed by the wayside to protect a field of inandiocre. The party insisted that while he was innocently swinging his hands, as he came along the trail, he touched the i'etish and violent pains began running through his whole body. The truth was, he had been caught stealing the mandiocrc, and was amenable to the tribal law for theft. The third was the plea of a woman for restitution. Her husband had been taken ill. A dot-tor who dealt in herbs promised to cure him. The potion he brewed was too strong, and the pa tient died. She aski-d no return for her hus band. He was dead and she was willing to let that go. The doctor had eaten her chick ens in part payment for professional services, and they were gone. But he had taken her goat in final payment. She resented that. It was the last straw. The goat was still alive and she wanted it. It is needless to say she got her goat back again, and the would-be doctor received some very wholesome advice from the missionary. It was said of Columbus by one of his own countrymen, "The instinct of an unknown con tinent burned within him." The pioneer spirit was largely developed in Morrison, but it did not fall to his lot to explore the vast areas about him. It was rather the less known re gion of the African's own tropical life and thought which concerned him most. Like Da vid Livingstone, he believed in his capacity for higher things. He measured the native by the best that was in him, not by the worst. For the redemption of Africa, he was willing to die. The love of an unsaved, but redeem able, race fired his soul. What could be more characteristic than this! The Lapsley anchored one day in a little cove. A mere boy of fifteen pushed oil' from the shore in a canoe, climbed aboard, and, run ning to Morrison slipped his arm around his waist. lie had been to Luebo for a short time, received the gospel there, had his heart strangely warmed, and returning to his na tive village where he was related to the chief, started a little school and had led thirty grown men and women to Christ. lie heard that we were near and hastened to touch the hand of his benefactor. There he stood by the side of the great-hearted missionary whose arm was around the young Timothy. What was it but the impact of Christianity and the imparta tion of heart and life, through a mere lad, to the dead body of heathenism? The Congo Mission of the Southern Presby terian Church is one of the most efficient of which I have knowledge. Its simplicity of organization, its directness of administration, its basic principles of self-support and self propagation as related to the native church with its 400 teachers and evangelists and near ly 15,000 members, and its influence as a moral and uplifting agency with the Baluba, Lulua, Bakuba, Bakete and Beni Kush give it a unique place among the Christian forces set for the evangelization of Africa. I would not for a moment fall into the error of ascribing all that has been accomplished to our friend who has been called to his well-earned rest. Such splendid men as Mr. Motte Martin and Dr. Copjiedge, together with the younger group, have made their invaluable contribu tion to the superstructure built upon the foun dations laid by Lapsley and Sheppard. There is a vigor about this lusty young mis sion, however, an air of progressiveness and a statesmanlike quality in all its plans, that synchronize with the life and administration labors of the man who gave twenty-one years of unremitting toil and sacrifice to build it up. William Morrison died young. He was not fifty-one. African climate is treacherous. But he lived much. The Apostle to the Gun tiles was not an old man in years, but with tribulations many, with watchings oft and the care of all the churches, he styled himself Paul the aged. After all, life is not measured so much by years as by service rendered, ami by the moral and spiritual forces set in mo tion ? not so much even by what one has doue as by what they have made it possible for* others to do. .Judged by any standard, this Congo Mission is pre-eminent in its position of leadership. Long may it maintain that po sition. I cannot close this tribute without referring once more to the beautiful hospitality shown Professor J. W. Gilbert and myself by the mission upon our first visit to the Congo, ami two years later to my entire missionary party. Even that was exceeded by what occurred upon the second visit when Morrison, Martin and Coppedge, after a brief consultation, pro posed that I should accept of several native evangelists with whom to begin work anions the Batetela. It fairly took my breath, but the argument was irresistible, "It will save you several years." Two experienced men and tlieir wives offered to throw in their lot with us for life. They are at Wembo Niama at (he present writing. It was a gift by the Presby terians to the Methodists. What catholicity of spirit upon the part of the missionaries! What sacrificial devotion upon the part of the native Christians! This reaches a high-wate/ mark in the annals of missions. In searching for it, where does one find the secret of power in such a life? The springs of that life were hidden in the depths of a conscious realization of the presence of God. An inner light shone unmistakably as new forces were released during those hours given to intercession. There is a picture before me of a candle burning an hour before day every morning in an humble home at Luebo. Was it the lingering glow of its light, or the glory and illuminating power of God's Word that gave Morrison's face, at times, its strange at tractiveness, and his life the strength for the exacting duties before him? Five times,, at least, in one day I have found him at pray?*r. The morning watch, the sunrise prayer meet ing in the great church shed, the early devo tions with the sons of the chiefs within his fence, the prayer with the workers whom he taught in the afternoon, and then at the gath ering of missionaries that evening. lie did not realize it, but he was keeping the soul of re ligion alive in the mission and in the native church. TAKE A TEN-MINUTE VACATION. In Farm and Fireside a writer says: "I've been married twenty-six years, and I've never had what you would call a sure-enough vaca tion. I never get two weeks for a vacation, so I just take ten-minute vacations. "I mean that at least three times a day, just when I'm apt to get most worked up about all there is to be done, I simply sit down in my rocking-chair or lie down, or, if it's nice weather, go out of doors for at least ten minutes. It's a wonderful help. Then I al ways wear ruhJber heels, keep my voice low, because there's nothing so wearing as talking in a high voice, and I try to sit and stand in the most restful way. When things go wrong and I'm getting mad or blue, I take a few deep breaths, hold up my head and praatice a grin. It's the best tired-and-cross tonic I know of." ? The Family Altar.