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shoe should be adopted now that binding was to be given up? This was a very serious and momentous matter, for upon its decision depended a good deal of the success of the society. One woman said, "Our daughters will be sneered at and laughed at, we must therefore try and make it as easy for them as we can. It would not do for them to wear the shoe of the slave-woman. This would be to bring immediate reproach upon them, and some might not have the courage to endure that. What shoe shall we then adopt? The shoe of the slave is the only kind that can be bought in the shops, for hitherto we have all made our own shoes at home."

An immediate discussion arose, and from the animation with which both old and young took part in it, we saw it was a crucial question. Every mother there wished to make the sacrifice as easy as possible for her girls, and we honoured them all for it. After many plans had been mentioned, a very happy suggestion was made: that they should take the Empress of China's shoe as a model The bright gleam in the eyes of many showed how pleased they were with the thought.

The reigning dynasty of China is Tartar, not Chinese, and when the Manchus conquered China, and in course of time, by the irresistible energy and force of the Chinese character, were converted into Chinese, they never adopted the custom of foot-binding for their women. In that respect they still retained the usage they brought with them when they came sweeping into China more than two centuries ago from the steppes of Tartary.

It was now considered that the adoption of the Empress' shoe would remove a good many difficulties. The heathen neighbours, when they saw their daughters wearing that, would not dare to jeer at them, or call them slave-women. The public, besides, would soon learn to distinguish them as Christians, who, were willing to run counter to an ancient custom, and to dare the sneers of men in order to save their fellowwomen from pain and misery.

And so our great meeting came to a close. Whilst there were some of our friends that were waiting to hear that an angry mob was tearing down the building in which we were met, we had quietly effected a revolution, the power of which we did not then fully understand ourselves. Since that time the movement has grown and spread to other parts of China, and the Christians in these places are carrying out the idea that was discussed and put into practice by the women who met that day for the abolition of foot-binding.

But it is not simply the Christians that have been impressed with the need of the sweeping away of a custom that has tyrannised over and crushed the women of China. Even the heathen are beginning to have their serious thoughts about this question. The Chinese are keen observers. They have been watching this social movement, and they have seen how the women are being emancipated, and our girls, instead of being turned into cripples, are active and full of health. One day, my wife, in company with a Christian woman whose feet were

un

bound, was preaching the Gospel in a heathen family, when the old lady of the house, addressing the native in very emphatic tones, said, "You are a fortunate woman to be able thus to go free and unfettered, with no bandages, and no sleepless nights with burning, aching feet." Then drawing herself up straight, she continued, "Oh! would that I could now think as you do, and pray to your God instead of these wooden idols," and she pointed to the long table just behind her, where a number of dusty, ugly-looking gods were placed.

A revolution, I believe, is quietly going on in the minds of many of the heathen women, and some day, in the not very far-off future, there will be a startling revelation of what their thoughts have been, when they will rise to overturn for ever a system under which they have groaned for so many ages.

JOHN MACGOWAN, AMOY.

Cloud Sonnets.

OW beautiful the heights of cloudland are!

H Celestial Alps that peak on peak arise

Against the blue of vivid, summer skies;
Their stately summits beckon from afar,
But never stain of earthly foot can mar
Their billowy whiteness, nor can mortal eyes
Search the vast secrets of their hid supplies.
They cradle storms, yet show no tempest scar,
They bear the rain, yet light as summer foam
Their hills and vales are wafted o'er the blue,
To Unseen Power obedient. Great and small,
They do God's bidding ever as they roam,
In all their changeful loveliness of hue,
For beauty and for blessing over all!
All-glorious in their varying shade and light,
Their sculptured domes and minarets of snow,
They show no traces of the mire below,
Whence they were raised to walk the heavens in white.
On dank and marshy hollows out of sight,
On many a roadside pool and noisome slough,
As on the ocean's breezy ebb and flow,
The lavish sun hath poured effulgent might,
And by his strength constrained the waters there
To rise and follow-lifted far above
Their darksome past, and girded as with power,
Through all the spacious freedom of the air
They do the errands of unwearying love,
And roof the world with beauty hour by hour.

O Sun of Righteousness, whose strength Divine
No power resisteth, shine upon my soul!
In the low places of my life, control,
Absorb, reclaim, each sordid thing refine,
Till nearer to Thy likeness I may shine,
And know Thy will, my gladness and my goal.
Yea, when these heavens shall vanish as a scroll,
And Thy vast universe to Thee resign

Its garnered greatness, when with clouds of light
Thou shalt appear in glory, may I rise
Rejoicing to the heights by mercy won.
Clothed in immortal vestures, clean and white,
Be mine the freedom of those purer skies,
Where Thou for evermore art Heaven and Sun!

MARY ROWLES JARVIS.

IT

T does not speak well for the world of men that History and Literature should have so very much mention made of Towers, and Walls of defence. In itself, unless for the wide and pleasant view which it gives, a tower makes an incommodious house. As an abiding habitation, it is a mere stronghold. It is a keep; or a prison. Perhaps that is what we in England most readily esteem it to be. If it be not that, it testifies in another way to some failing or fault in humanity. It suggests not only imprisonment, but sudden danger, and wearisome siege. The tower, too, of which that "in the vineyard" is an example, makes us think of homely safeguards and domestic suspicion, as well as of national defence. It is also associated with undue human ambition. This, indeed, marks its first appearance in the oldest wellknown history that we have. There it represents a defiance not of mortal danger, but of Divine wrath. The Tower of Babel was built not for protection against an invading human enemy, but for getting the better of any second deluge which God might send upon the earth. Men strove to be superior to the judgment of the Lord, and were confounded for their audacity. So far from being able to know and thwart His will, they were presently unable to understand, or work with, one another.

The building of a tower is, moreover, curiously enough, associated with the latest as well as the earliest human enterprise, though in its last shape it indicates no desire to defy the operations of the Almighty. We might indeed find a difficulty in trying to define the precise aim of the French ironmaster, whose fabric half the civilised world has been, or wished, to see and climb. The Tower of Babel was intended to have at least an intelligible use in saving men from possible disaster; while that of Paris has simply astonished their eyes, and lined the purse of its promoters. Anyhow, for one purpose or another, the raising of some structure which should lift them above the earth, or separate them from their fellows, has always had a notable attraction for men. It is full of suggestive thoughts.

First look back for a moment at the recorded object of that which should provide security against the visitation of God. The builders of Babel thought that they could make themselves safe, whatever should come to pass. And they were brought to confusion. We must not, however, think that their audacity was unique, and look on their punishment as a mere singular historical event, for though in their particular attempt human presumption took the shape of a tower, it is as many others. Again and again

men have tried to ensure their superiority to, or immunity from those dispensations, which can hardly be forecast, however farseeing men may be. Their cleverest precautions have either wholly failed, often at once, or have only put off the arrival of that which they feared. Science has mitigated or deferred some of the ills which flesh is heir to. but in the end, whatever arrives, decay and death are sure to come. The flood creeps up story after story of the highest tower of life until it covers those at the bottom and the top alike. The safeguards within which men entrench themselves against those visitations of God which remove them from this world are at last discovered to be powerless, and the only tower of strength is found to be God Himself. He is the one Refuge from the storm, and covert from the tempest. This is revealed in Christ. The true tower is the shelter which He provides, according to His own promise: "Whosoever heareth these sayings of Mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock."

Much the same lesson may be learnt when protection is sought, not against the unavoidable operations of God, but against the assaults of man. It is for this last use that material walls and bulwarks are actually provided; and for a while they may keep the enemy off. But true national security and permanence is found in righteousness, rather than in ramparts of stone. These indeed soon crumble away; the face of the world is littered with the ruins of castles and fenced cities. Babylon the great is fallen. Bel boweth down, and Nebo stoopeth. The strongest and most famous are seen at length to have hardly one stone left upon another. They may seem invincible. They may even rise again and again from their ruins, but in the end it is seen that they would be impotent, should they be assailed. Think of that city itself whose downfall Christ predicted. Men of old might sing aloud with confident gladness: "Walk about Sion, and go round about her and tell the towers thereof. Mark well her bulwarks, set her up houses: that ye may tell them that come after." Could they but have forecast what those who have "come after " can see as they look upon her hill to-day, no longer "a fair place and the joy of the whole earth," they would have had their hopes grievously cast down. Mount Zion is captive still. But Jerusalem which is above is free. And though in the vision of St. John it appears with walls, they are necessary lines of demarcation, rather than hindrances to entrance, for the

:

gates shall not be shut day nor night. The kingdom of heaven, the city of God, must needs have some protection, though of no material sort. There is an entrance into it, a going in, a change from blindness into sight, from fear into confidence, from ignorance into spiritual perception. And yet "there shall no wise enter into it anything that defileth." It is poorly, imperfectly prefigured by an earthly fabric which has its stif fences, bulwarks, and surrounding ditch. no immoveable walls and towers.

It has

The stones of which it is built are living souls. The mansions of the blest are safe dwelling-places, and yet are encompassed about with no rampart or moat. Their safety is from within, not without. With fuller meaning than that of the Psalmist when he sings of the city of Zion, "God is well known in her palaces as a sure refuge."

As we continue to thinks of towers we remember some which seem to have no beauty nor use. Their only purpose is to proclaim the vanity of individuals. Those of which I speak are no national tributes to a hero. They mark no event in the history of a people, but often come to be contemptuously, and yet fitly, known as "follies." That is the name they have received from a shrewd world, and we must not pass by the lesson which they thus set as we enquire about the teaching of Towers. We are soon forgotten, but we all leave behind us some memorials, however short, and monuments, however small. Let the tower of the foolish man, at which we smile as we remark that it displays nothing his but extravagance and eccentricity, remind us that, though we may raise no column of granite, it is possible for us to be remembered for our selfishness alone. Our works always follow us, though it be only for a little way. We, being dead, yet speak to our families and friends, at least for a little while, and often the voice is loudest when the mouth is closed, and the tongue is dumb. And what shall we then say? What message shall we bequeath to our survivors? must be confessed that there is no need of a material tower to leave behind us a monument of folly.

It

But there are more pleasant thoughts associated with a tower. Among its better uses one is that made of it by a watchman. Thence he looks around to descry the advance of an enemy or discover that of a friend. The sight or mere thought of such a fabric may suggest "circumspection." That indeed is wanted wherever we may be, but it becomes most effective when we are raised above the common level. There is need to see plainly the things which are nearest to us, but the wise and well instructed man desires to discern such as are far off. Some may be beyond his sight, and yet he is not contented with perceiving only those that are about his feet. There is a saying that it is well to take "short views❞ of life, and we have a divine truth in the words "The morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." And yet we are bidden to "watch" as well as to pray. For the better doing of this we require some lifting above the flats of earth. And if we ask how we may be

raised so that we may see better, the answer is that the tower on which a Christian stands is his high place as a child of God. Thence he can look down upon the world, in no necessarily contemptuous sense, but with a clearer discernment and appreciation of its worth. To watch aright we need to take our position upon the heights of righteousness and truth. Then we can see beyond the meaner motives which affect many, and are enabled to form a just judgment of things which seem large merely because they are near. Much that claims great importance shrinks to its real size as we can look past it, and apprehend the value of that which lies behind, and may profoundly influence our course. Then we can see where we are going, and choose our road aright.

The experienced traveller in a wild country, where the paths are but slightly marked, and hardly show themselves beneath his feet, will dismount from his horse and climb up into a tree, or betake himself to some neighbouring eminence. Then he can discern the faint tracks which he desires to follow, and determine the direction to be taken. Thus we sometimes need to pause, and in a spiritual sense do our best to look afar. Then the indications of our route reveal themselves and we do not lose our way. Then false turns and errors are seen and avoided. Thus the Christian who may feel perplexed has recourse to the high ground of his belief in a living Christ, and in heart and mind thither ascends, that he may see things from his Master's side and with his Master's eyes, and be not turned aside by those of little worth.

Towers, moreover, do not merely suggest a height which may be climbed for a view of our course. They are also landmarks which we do not necessarily mount, but which serve as guides. The sailors who closely coast our shores, and the fishermen who ply their calling within sight of land, often steer their ships by some tower which stands upon the cliff. These elevations are of priceless value, and specially when they are also pillars of fire by night, and shed their rays after darkness has hidden their uplifted heads from view. So in our course through the waves of this troublesome world we are, or may be, guided by the sight of some fitly styled "eminent" personage who stands above the rest. He is indeed in common language "a burning and a shining light." At him we perhaps (so to speak) aim our course, keeping him well in view as a trustworthy and steadfast beacon or example of life. Such and such a one is a monument of truth, justice, benevolence, purity, uprightness. Without undue veneration we can look up to him We can see his high place. We can learn how others have been safely guided as they have had regard to his established prominence. It is often difficult for some, and almost impossible for others, to follow spoken or written directions. Especially in the conduct of life many fail to understand or interpret principles and rules. They want something plainer. They need more than orders to do this or that. They want to know that it can be done, and to see some who have done it. The law has to be shown in some

human life. It requires translation from the word into the deed. And happily the plains, and coasts of life are studded with towers of example whereby the simple can see the will of God obeyed and through the doer, learn the Master's mind. They are strengthened by the sight of goodness, and guided in its path. This help is recognised by St. Paul, and without vain boasting urged upon his disciples when he says to the Philippians (iii. 17): "Brethren, be followers together of me, and mark them which walk so that ye have us for example." And, with fuller meaning, in his Epistle to the Corinthians, where he writes (1 Cor. xi. 1): "Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ."

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There are other, though they may be less weighty, illustrations provided by towers and walls. I have not referred to several which many might think most likely to suggest themselves at once. With some, for instance, especially in our Metropolis, the word immediately reminds them of the fortress famed as the "Tower of London." And though this lends itself to other uses now, it is as a prison" that it chiefly appears in English history. It has been the scene and the centre of the most distinguished captivity, torture and execution. Thus, like those towers which have been only places of defence, it may possibly remind us that there has been some progress in the bettering of the world. There were days when rich dwellers in the country felt themselves to be safe only when they were shut up within strongholds of stone. Their modern habitations. tell of decrease in domestic and social violence, lawlessness and rapine. So the Tower of London, with its cruel store of racks and tormenting machinery, is a witness to the growth of a better mind in the treatment of prisoners and forms of so-called justice.

But when we talk of these things, we must not forget that, along with the presence of Christianity in our land, those towers of which there are most have borne continuous testimony to the Christian message of truth and love. I refer, of course, to those sacred edifices in village and city, which have not merely provided walls within which to worship, but evermore point upwards, leading the eye and thought to that which is above. Near, and amidst all earthly homes they have, age after age, summoned worshippers to prayer, and silently, with tower and spire, tried to lift the wayfarer's mind towards another world.

This word "silently" might suggest the only other use I would now make of the structures I have referred to, and which serve as illustrations of and witnesses to much that we should remember or learn. We have all read or heard of the "Towers of Silence," in distant Eastern lands, into which the dead are carried. The saying of our Lord that "where the carcase is, these will the eagles be gathered together," has nowhere a closer and more personal fulfilment than in those places where the bodies of the departed are left for the vultures to devour. The "Towers of Silence" tell the survivors, and tell us, of a time when all the speech and stir of this life has come to an end, an end surely to be

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reached by each one among ourselves. May the solemn message which they give be accompanied and hallowed by our trust in that "Tower of Strength," that "Stronghold of Salvation," which we have in God through Jesus Christ our Lord.1

TOURISTS' CHRISTIANITY.

The following communication reaches us from Jerusalem. It is prefaced by the words: "My heart was hot within me. While I was musing the fire burned, then spake I with my tongue.' We call attention to it at this season, premising only that it comes from one who has travelled much, and is familiar with the ways of other

nations.

Touri

ourists' Christianity! Why, such a thing does not exist. It is no good, alas, to exclaim in indignation at that statement. It is made, you may be very well assured, in a spirit of indignation and shame. It is of no avail for the world at large to declare disbelief in its truth. Listen to these words of an intelligent, educated young Jew. They are no made-up fable, but facts.

"No thank you, madame, I have no wish to exchange my God for the Christians' God. You say that we worship the same God. That is a mistake. The Christians' God is a fancy, a nonentity. My God claims of me love, and fear, and respect. That is a God whom I can understand. Your God claims nothing."

"But He does claim much. What can you be thinking about to speak as you do? He claims the same as yours." "Does He!" replied the Jew, with a cold look of scorn on his dark face. "Then He gets nothing."

"How dare you say so! Come to England and see,” was the half-angry retort.

Then the young man stood still, and turning full face, laughed contemptuously.

"Your pardon, madame," he said. "But that is what the missionaries say. What I say is, that the Christians' God-the Christians' religion, that is, is packed up with their other things in their trunks, or else can conveniently be left behind. Where we go, our God and our religion go with us. Hundreds, thousands, of the English-speaking Christians have been coming over here these past few years, for pleasure. From what the missionaries had told us, we had expected to see something beautiful, and-perhaps-to believe."

The expression of his face deepened as he murmured the last two words. But it hardened to a greater look of scorn than ever as he hastily lifted his head again, and said: "And what did we see? What do we see? People who keep no Sabbath, nor let others keep it. People who drive hard bargains; who struggle and clamour for the best; who strike donkey-drivers because they cannot understand English orders; who use the few words of our language they know to swear at us. I went to one of your missionary schools for nearly two years. I went because I wished to learn English; but I also had to learn about your Jesusyour Pattern, meek and gentle and lowly; your Jesus who you profess to believe did such great things for you.

1 Many of our readers will be glad to know that the series of papers, "Voices by the Way," by the Rev. Prebendary Harry Jones, M.A., as now completed, is issued in a separate volume by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.