h is not a fig syrup, but a preparation of senna;
to Dr. Kilmer's Swamp Root, of which the principal medical
constituent is alcohol; and, finally, to Dr. Bye's Oil Cure
for cancer, a particularly cruel swindle on unfortunates
suffering from an incurable malady. All of these, with other
matter, which for the sake of decency I do not care to
detail in these columns, appear in recent issues of the
"Christian Endeavor World".

#Riches in Glory#

There came recently to Los Angeles a "world-famous evangelist", known
as "Gipsy" Smith. There was a shirt-waist strike at the time, and the
girls were starving, and they sent a delegation to this evangelist to
ask for help. They told him how they were mistreated, exposed to
insults, driven to sell their virtue because their wage would not
support life; and to their plea he made answer: "Get Jesus in your
hearts, and these questions will take care of themselves!"

So we see the most important of the many services which the churches
perform for the merchants--taking the revolutionary hope of Jesus, for
a kingdom of heaven upon earth, and perverting it into a dream of a
golden harp in an uncertain future. To appreciate the fullness of this
betrayal, take the prayer which Jesus dictated--so simple, direct and
practical: "Give us this day our daily bread", and put it beside the
hymns which the slave-congregations are trained to sing. In my
neighborhood is a one-roomed building with a plate glass front, upon
which I observe a painter inscribing in red, white and blue letters
the sign "#Glory Mission.#" I approach him, and he drops his work and
welcomes me with eager cordiality. Am I "living in grace"? I answer
that I am. I have to shout the good tidings into his ear, as he is
very deaf. He presents me with his card, which shows that he bears the
title of "Reverend", also the sobriquet of "Mountain Missionary". I
ask him to permit me to examine the hymn-book which he uses in his
work, and with touching eagerness he presses upon me a well-worn
volume bearing the title "Waves of Glory". I seat myself and note down
a few of the baits it sets out for hungry wage-slaves:

O, there's a plenty, O, there's a plenty,
There's a plenty in my Father's bank above!

Riches in glory, riches in glory,
Royal supply our wants exceed!

Feasting, I'm feasting,
I'm feasting with my Lord!

Beautiful robes, beautiful robes,
Beautiful robes we then sha