DEATH OF REV. JAMES POWELL, D.D. "He whom thou lovest is dead," were the sorrowful words of the stricken sisters concerning their brother; we repeat them to our many friends who enjoyed the personal friendship of our beloved brother Powell. These friends cannot restore him to us, as the Friend restored Lazarus to his family; but they can sympathize with us in our great bereavement. It is scarcely three months since our honored president, Gov.... more...

A HAPPY NEW YEAR! A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! It is an inspiring delight to hear and speak the greeting. It is a phrase that comes down to us from the ages. All the more gladly do we repeat it on that account. There are some things, thank God, even in this world, that never grow old. The greetings of Christmas and New Year are among them. This is because they are connected with Christ and his kingdom. True happiness for mankind first... more...

DEATH OF REV. G. D. PIKE, D. D. In the death of Dr. Pike, which occurred in Hartford, Conn., Jan. 29, the American Missionary Association has lost a most earnest and successful worker. Repeated and protracted attacks of throat and lung troubles during the last two or three years, terminating in an illness that confined him to his room for three months, gave warning to his friends of the approach of death. But with the hopefulness peculiar to the... more...

OUR INDIAN MISSIONS. Nine schools, with 356 pupils; five churches, with 271 members; five stations; thirteen missionaries; thirty-seven teachers, are the statistics. The churches are Congregational, and the church and school go hand in hand. A careful survey of the necessities of these missions was made early in the year, and the estimate called for an appropriation of about $30,000. Repairs and improvements in old buildings and construction of... more...

Another year. Are we ready for it, ready to work and to win? The harvest is still plenteous and every increase of store is precious. Who can measure such privilege? And what of opportunities? The swift-winged events of our civilization are continually hurrying us into the midst of them. It is a day of speedy rewards. Christ comes quickly in these times. The business of the Church is helped as absolutely as secular business by the development and... more...

A WORD OF EXHORTATION. Sensible of our accountability to God, of our entire dependence upon his blessing for success in all our undertakings, knowing that of ourselves we can do nothing, but believing that through Christ strengthening us we may accomplish something in his service, we enter upon the duties of another year—the twentieth year of our editorial labors. With language similar to that which the mother of Moses is supposed to have... more...

VOL. 37. No. 18. WEEKLY.DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS.GEORGE E. COOK. EDITOR.MAY 3, 1914.   It was a warm May afternoon: all the little flowers were stretching up their heads to catch the rain that was falling patter-spatter everywhere. Francis stood by the window pouting. He had been playing lovely games outside, and now the rain had spoiled his fun. Mother was at her sewing machine. She felt sorry for Francis, he was... more...

VOL. 37. No. 17. WEEKLY.DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS.GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR.APRIL 26, 1914.   The tide was low, and a dark line of rocks showed up clearly in the still water. "I wonder what those rocks are really like," said Toby rising slowly from his seat. "It looks almost as if we could paddle out to them," said his twin sister Nancy, as she pushed her red curls under her sun-bonnet. "I vote we try!" exclaimed... more...

VOL. 37. No. 15. WEEKLY.DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS. GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR.APRIL 12, 1914.   "Why, Myra, what is the matter?" Mabel had found Myra crying in a little sheltered place where the little neighbors sometimes played together. Mabel lived in a big house and Myra in a little one, but they were neighbors, and loved each other just the same. "I don't mean to cry long," Myra said, "but I couldn't help having a... more...

On the Primary Room wall was a beautiful picture of a shining river. Francie loved to count the fish that were swimming in it. Just fourteen there were, and every one stood for a new scholar someone had brought into the Primary Class. How Francie wished he could bring one and have Miss Florence pin a fish in the river and a red tag on his blouse to show that he had caught it. “How you s'pose I can get a fish, mother?” he asked... more...