ter, amid his blinding tears, fades into the mists of the early months of 1705, and by the time Christmas Eve of that year had come, the tossing ship had already passed four weeks of her long eight months' perilous voyage, carrying the two young men, Ziegenbalg and Plütschau, as leaders of the van of Protestant ambassadors, to tell the glad tidings of great joy.

Once more the mists of succeeding weary months, with their unspeakable loneliness and incredible hardships sweep in between us and the vision of these men standing in the prow of that ship. Every now and then we catch a momentary glimpse-books, grammars, dictionaries, Bibles by degrees created, a Christian Church planted after long, unappreciated, immeasurable self sacrifice, such as seems almost reckless. It was Christmas Eve, 1718, when Ziegenbalg preached his last sermon, on "The Angel Message to All People." A week later his voice could scarcely be heard. When he fell asleep, it was to the music of his favorite hymn, "Jesus My Confidence." Just as he was about dying, he suddenly put his hand to his face, as did the shepherds when the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and he was heard to faintly exclaim, "How is it so bright!"

So began the spiritual winning of India. Had that Danish Lutheran Mission done no more than produce Ziegenbalg, it would have done a noble work. "How is it," asks Prebendary Edwards, of the Church of England, "that we have known so little about this man? His life is a model. His plans and methods have never been greatly improved upon. Here is a zealous Christian, dying at the age of thirty-six, yet leaving behind him a translation of the New Testament and half of the Old Testament, a dictionary of the language he had mastered, and a flock of between 300 and 400 converts! I think it would be found that in breadth, in depth and in permanence that great achievement has never been excelled since." "Neither dare the reflex influence of his life on other spheres be overlooked," as Dr. Jacobs well reminds us. "It enkindled the missionary zeal of the home churches. The story of what was being done in India was published by Francke at Halle, to be scattered broadcast, and it brought to mind the early days of Christianity. The spirit and methods of the missionaries were applied to other problems than those of foreign missions. Henry Melchior Muhlenberg studied at Halle to prepare himself for

the field in India. Ziegenbalg's face was toward the East, but he was preparing the home mission work in America, as he turned his back upon it. It was from the same institution that a generation later the impulse came which securely laid the foundation of the Lutheran Church on the Western Continent. Zinzendorf also caught the flame of Ziegenbalg's work at Halle, where he studied, and carried it forth into his missionary enterprises.

Opposed in the beginning almost as a heretic, denounced as a "false prophet" by a learned theological faculty, severely criticised by men of undoubted sincerity and devotion, Ziegenbalg forced men to recognize the regularity of his call, and theologians to revise their definitions which had previously condemned him. A new principle had to be introduced into church government. A new bond of associa tion among those who supported foreign missions, revives the doctrine of the Church as the communion of saints, which, although insisted upon by the Reformation, had been almost entirely suppressed in a State Church that of fered few opportunities for Christian activity beyond one's own self and his family. A new test is offered of the reality of an individual's conviction of the truth of his faith and confession. Foreign mission activity becomes the Church's best answer to the efforts of those who assail the very foundations of Christianity. There is no apologetic equal to that of staking all that one has and is upon the extension of Christianity. Or if there are times when the activity of the Church is in danger of being spent on useless controversies, the call of missions awakens it to the necessity of being prepared to dispense with scholastic refinements, and to preach the concrete, living Gospel of Christ in all plainness and simplicity and earnestness and directness to sinful and dying men. Foreign mission work helps us to judge the right relation between what is central, and what, although important, belongs only to the circumference of Christianity.

For these reasons we are inclined to regard Ziegenbalg's going to India as the most important event in church history since Luther began the Protestant Reformation.

Man does not need more than one moment at a time. It is sufficient if he fills each one with good work well done for the Master's sake.

As Miss Martin passed in at the side entrance that led to the choir loft she overheard a murmur from a group of people on the pavement, "That is she-our first soprano that I told you about. I can hardly wait for you to hear her glorious voice."

A slight flush mounted her fair face, and a feeling that she deserved the words of praise swelled in her heart. Had she not struggled up through many trials to her present high place in the musical world? Now that success was hers she should enjoy it to the full. She loosened the rich fur that clasped her throat and removed the filmy veil which had protected her wavy hair from the rough caresses of the wind, unrolled her music and softly trilled a bar or two-not because she needed further preparation, but from the very joy of being able to warble like the birds. If the people of this church had liked her voice before, what would they think after the magnificent solo she should sing that Christmas morning?

Ah, life was sweet-and hope fulfilled an intoxicating draft!

Just then Mr. Niles came into the anteroom behind the great organ.

"Miss Martin," he began, then hesitated. "Well?" she encouraged him, smiling.

"I want to ask a great favor of you. A few of us are going this afternoon to the woman's ward of the penitentiary to hold a Christmas service with the inmates. Could you, would you, go with us and sing for them?"

Her smile faded.

"Oh, Mr. Niles, how dreadful!" she exclaimed, with a shiver.

"What is dreadful?"

"The whole idea. The penitentiary—ugh! and this day of all days to visit such a ghastly place. You must excuse me."

But Mr. Niles lingered with a saddened face.

"Miss Martin, if you understood all it would mean to those poor creatures, some of them young, most of them victims of circumstances rather than criminals from choice, I think you would go. It is just one hour; there are twenty-three hours of Christmas left, you know."

The organ was pealing, and its deep tones reverberated among the huge pipes. Miss Martin laid her hand on the door knob.

"I shall need the afternoon for rest and preparation for the song service tonight," she

said, coldly. "Someone else can sing for you who has less to do than I," and Mr. Niles was left alone, while Miss Martin took her place in the choir loft.

The service moved on smoothly-the anthem, Scripture lesson, hymn and prayer; and then her solo-the event of the morning to others than the singer. It was all she had hoped, and more. The audience sat through it as if spellbound, and many were in tears when the last note died slowly away.

Miss Martin did not expect to pay much heed to the sermon-the important part of the morning had ended when her work was done. But she had not counted on the effect of Mr. Niles' earnest prayer for her out in the little anteroom after she had left him, nor on the message which the preacher-filled with the Spirit-brought from God to her soul.

She had been a church member? Oh, yes, for years; but her ambition had filled her heart and left no room for anything else. But on that Christmas Sabbath old things passed away and all things became new for her.

It was over at last, and she passed out, only pausing to say to Mr. Niles: "I have altered my mind. You can count on me for this afternoon." He looked down on her in pleased surprise, but she drew down her veil and hurried away.

So it came about that she was one of the little group who filed into the penitentiary hall that afternoon, and stood facing the rows on rows of women sitting there in prison garb.

On all four sides wound iron stairways leading to the grated cells four tiers high. At the front of the hall stood a white pulpit, a small organ and several chairs. Doors were locked and windows barred; inside were misery and wretchedness; outside the blessed freedom of God's pure air and-Christmas.

Sitting during the opening exercises Miss Martin scanned the faces before her; some so pitifully young and fair, some as free from marks of guilt as hers; others hard and old in sin, with evil eyes and darkened brows.

On the front row sat a woman not more than thirty-five years old, but with a seamed and hardened face looking sadly out of keeping with the crimped and frizzed hair which towered above her forehead. She stared with sullen, glittering eves at Mr. Niles as he read and prayed. Many heads bowed, and sounds of stifled sobbing came from different parts

of the room as the sweet story of the first Christmas was read; but this woman sat like a statue, with compressed lips.

Presently Miss Martin sang. Those walls had never echoed to sounds more sweet, for her heart was in the message as she sang of Jesus' birth, his love and pity. The black eyes did not leave her face, but gave no sign of feeling.

While Mr. Niles and others talked to them, Miss Martin's heart was lifted in prayer-the first real prayer she had ever uttered, it seemed to her-that God would give her the joy of bearing a message of help to some needy soul.

The service continued, but the woman on the front seat did not move nor take her steady gaze from the beautiful, girlish face by the organ.

She sang again-a message of peace on earth, good will to men, so sadly needed; and as she finished the black eyes dimmed suddenly and the set lips whispered, "Oh, sing again!" She began at once, without an accompaniment, the Gospel hymn:

"Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling." Every sentence thrilled with entreaty as she

sang:

"Come home, come home!

Ye who are weary, come home!"

As she finished the hardened face suddenly melted and a broken voice sobbed out, "Help me! oh, help me! I do want to be good."

On the stone floor they knelt, and there. with deep penitence and earnest prayer, at least one sinful soul found forgiveness.

"It was the singing that did it," the poor woman said, holding fast to the firm, white hand that did not shrink from the contact. "I could have resisted all the rest, but not that— today-Christ's birthday-and mine." The voice sank to a whisper, but the hard face glowed with the light of Christmas.

Miss Martin and Mr. Niles walked through the heavy gates together, hearing the clang that shut them out and those others in. Then the young man began:

"I want to thank youBut she interrupted him:

"Let me thank you instead," she said, tremulously. "It has been an experience I could not afford to do without. I am ready to say now, with the spirit and with the understanding also:

"Take my voice and let me sing
Always, only for my King!"

IN N decorating the church for Christmas do not go at the work in haphazard, helter skelter fashion, as is very often done. I advise the appointment as chairman of the decoration committee of some person who has good taste in this line, a person who has executive ability also, if possible, and let it be perfectly understood that the plans as decided on by the head of the committee are not subject to general interference. The other members of this committee should have executive ability, and all should be willing to act on their plans.

Think out your scheme of decoration well before you begin work. If possible, draw a plan of it. If your scheme is decided on fully before work is begun you can go at it with a definite idea of what to do and how to do it, thus making it possible to expedite matters greatly and systematize the work to the smallest detail. It also enables you to decide the amount required in each kind of material em

ployed. Get your material together before anything else is done. I would suggest that you appoint several committees to procure whatever is needed. Some can go in search of evergreens. Others can procure berries. If there are things to buy at the stores, let a purchasing committee take this in hand, acting, of course, on your instructions. There will have to be lath for framework, very likely nails, twine, pasteboard, cotton for covering letters, stepladders-any amount of things of which you ought to make a memorandum as the necessity for them occurs to you. Of course, you will not be able to think of everything that will be needed, but you can have the most of it at the church before the day for decorative work begins.

I do not propose to advise any definite plan of decoration. One cannot do so satisfactorily, because churches differ so. Do not, however, attempt a very elaborate scheme. There is vastly more dignity and artistic possi

bility in a plan in which simplicity governs. Leave elaborate effects to the professionals. I know of few things more depressing than an attempt at something elaborate in the way of church decoration, which is a failure because the idea dominating it at the outset was a larger one than the committee had the ability to carry forward to successful completion. The effect is often ludicrous.

I would not advise doing much in the way of festooning the building with the old style wreathing made by tying evergreen to a rope. It is a clumsy decoration at the best. It is seldom gracefully disposed of, and it takes more time than almost anything else you can decide on. If any is to be used, let it be placed where it will interfere with no one's range of vision. Have it well up toward the roof.

Very pleasing results can be secured by using the spaces between the windows as panels. To these fasten groups of evergreen made of large branches instead of small ones. For this purpose pine is better than anything else, because of its irregular habit of branching. It lacks the flatness which characterizes most evergreens. With it, to furnish color, can be used large clusters of mountain ash berries, alderberries, bittersweet, sumach and autumn leaves. Charming effects are secured by sprinkling the pine branches with warm liquid glue, and dusting them with coarsely powdered mica. They will look as if covered with hoar frost. Crystallized grasses and grains are also effective, grouped with bright colored berries at the lower part of the panel. Sometimes, if berries are scarce, wide ribbon in a loose knot can be made to serve as a substitute, if of harmonious color. Or, where the expense of ribbon cannot be afforded, crêpe paper could be used with satisfactory results.

For arch work, I would suggest using large, long branches, letting them reach out on each side from the apex of the arch and follow it down, growing smaller and smaller, until the column supporting the arch is reached. At the centre, where the branches are fastened, a mass of berries can be used to give tone and relief to the sombre color of the evergreens. Pillars can be wound with running pine or Southern similax. Long branches of the bittersweet, thickly set with berries, can be made into a continuous vine by the judicious use of fine wire to fasten the pieces together.

If it is desired to frame the windows in greenery, it is a good plan to begin at one side, using, as at other points, long, large

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branches instead of small ones, and running them up and over the window, allowing them to grow smaller and smaller as they run down the opposite side, until they terminate in a spray of ground pine or smilax. If flowering plants are obtainable, one can be given a place in each window, where its bright color will show to fine effect in the framework of green.

In decorating the altar, do not overdo things. Reserve for it your choicest flowers. Concentrate the color effect of your scheme here. Let whatever brightness there is seem to radiate from this central point. If palms or other plants of that kind are used, group them at the sides and rear, so that they will form a background of green against which the beauty at the altar will stand forth vividly. Never place them where they will interfere with any one's view. The chancel rail can be wound with ground pine, smilax or ivy, with clusters of berries wired on here and there, or flowers can be used instead of berries.

Effective lettering is done by cutting out letters in pasteboard and covering them with canton flannel, or, if a fluffy effect is desired, with cotton lightly tacked on. By powdering them with mica they are easily given a frosty effect that is pleasing by artificial light. Or popcorn can be strung and the letters edged with it, with very little trouble. Then go over the corn with liquid gold paint, and you have letters in white and gold that will be found very pretty indeed. If you want your letter work suspended, you can fasten them to a framework of woven wire. Open work screens of flowers and vines can be easily arranged on a framework of this kind.

Do not have too much in the way of lettering. It has to be used very carefully to prevent it from interfering with the effect of other work. One sentence, and that a short one, is better than more. And put it where it seems to be in place, never in positions where you feel it ought not to be. I would not have it over the altar. Let it be back of it if it must be in the centre of the church. But if I could have all the flowers and plants I cared to make use of in the centre of the church, I would, if possible, keep all letter work to the sides, because, as I have already said, I would aim to concentrate the chief beauty of the decoration about the altar and its vicinity, and letter work, unless extremely well done, is likely to detract from the dignity of the decoration at this central and most important point.— Home and Flowers.

ONE beautiful, calm night over nineteen

hundred years ago, in the far off country

of Judea, there happened one of the most wonderful events which mark the pages of sacred history. The name Bethlehem is familiar to every boy and girl throughout the whole Christian world, because in that little town, on the first glad Christmas night, Christ, our loving friend and teacher, was born.

Centuries have passed away, yet the scene of Christ's advent is as clear as though it had occurred but yesterday. Cradled in a manger, we see the Christ child, with Joseph and Mary keeping vigil near his sleeping form, and there kneeling in humble adoration are the shepherds and wise men, while a halo of heavenly brightness shining above the manger bed finishes the picture.

Christmas, then, is the glad birthday of this child. "Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save the people from their sins." Dear Juniors, you have heard how this child as he grew to manhood suffered and died on the cruel cross that we might be saved from our sins, and He is now in heaven, rejoicing that we are filled with love and happiness at Christmas time. Is not our Heavenly Father good in so loving us that He gave His only begotten Son, Jesus, to live and suffer that we might be saved from our sins, and when we pass from this earth live with Him in heaven?

The world knew of the birth of Jesus over 700 years before the great event happened, as the prophets of old had foretold how He should come; yet when He did come in so humble a form, the people could not realize the great truth. Just think, my dear friends, almost the poorest child on earth has had a more exalted birth than Jesus, our Saviour, yet amid all the poverty and gloom of the cattle stable were unseen beauties. Angels were hovering around the manger, and, too, what means the visit of the wise men from the Far East, who lay their richest gifts before the babe, or the lowly shepherd's of Judah's plains offering up their prayers of thanksgiving? Hark! 'tis a joyful message to sinful man—Christ, the Saviour of the world is born. The angel choir had proclaimed it to the shepherds as they watched their sheep by night on the plains of old Judea, and a star had guided the three wise men from

the East to the little town of Bethlehem. Can you think, dear Juniors, how that message from heaven must have sounded when the angels sang: "Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour which is Christ, the Lord;" also, "Peace on earth, good will toward men"?

While we cannot see Jesus in bodily form as did the Jews, with whom our Saviour lived thirty-three years, yet the glad message, the Holy Bible, tells us all about our dear Friend, how we must love Him, and how He is waiting in heaven to welcome us. He has gone before to prepare a place for us, but we must serve and obey Him. Jesus is a universal friend, that is, He loves everybody and everything. There is not a man, woman, boy or girl that has not tasted of His love. Yes, even the flowers of the field, the animals and the birds of the air, show forth His goodness. We may pass by a tiny violet by the wayside and fail to see its beauty, but to Jesus it is a specimen of rare value. In our daily life we often fail to notice the needs and desires of our brothers, sisters and companions. We grow selfish because this busy world demands so much of our time, but what is our reward? How much better if we would take a little time to think of Jesus, and shed forth some love into saddened hearts. Did you ever think, dear Juniors, how much joy a smile or kind word can give a lonely soul? As you go from your home to the schoolroom a happy goodby to mother, and a cheery greeting to your teacher and companions make many happy hearts, even if just for a day. This was the spirit of the Christ Ichild, whose birthday we will celebrate. Here I am reminded of a few words which mean so much to me, and I know they will to you all: "If we let no glory down

Any darkened life to crown,

If our grace and gladness have no ministry for pain,

We have lived our life in vain."

Let us, therefore, as workers for our blessed Saviour, make this Christmastide the most joyful event in our lives, by sending happiness into someone's life.

That you may have a truly happy Christmas, and that you may always love the Christ child of whom I have told you, is my earnest prayer.