Ever since he set foot on the soil of that country he had kept on pleading for reinforcements in his work,—now a physician, then a teacher, again a man capable of overseeing mechanical operations, and always more ordained missionaries. He entertained very common-sense notions as to the sort of reinforcements that are desirable. He says in an old letter directed to theological students in the seminary where he was trained: “I might add more especially that missionaries should not be men of one idea, unless perchance that idea be a zeal for saving souls. The men needed are those who have well-balanced, practical minds.... The man of vivacious temperament, pleasing address, ready wit, and ready utterance, other things being equal, will make the best missionary.” The language he did not regard as at all beyond the acquisition of any person with fair ability and faithful application, though he recognized more than a moderate measure of these as essential to the writing of books. As the new China loomed up before him, his cry for help became, if possible, more earnest; it came from the very depths of his soul, and with an intensity which words could not adequately express. Before proceeding to relate the story of his death, can I do better than to give the last of these appeals of which we have the records? The letter from which I quote is dated Wei Hsien, September 1, 1907, just a year before his Master called him home. He said: Tell the young men of America for me, that China now presents to the church the greatest opportunity of the ages. God has opened the door,—opened it wide. Three hundred and fifty millions of people are ready to hear the gospel message. This door has not been opened without great strife and effort. In the face of steady and persistent opposition, and through much suffering and bloodshed, a large and lasting impression has been already made. The dark and discouraging days are over and the future is bright with promise. As I look back over the first twenty-five years of my missionary life, it seems like a troubled dream. The last fifteen years have wrought wonders in China. Old customs and prejudices are giving way. The bright dawn of better things is upon us. The most conservative and immovable people in the world, persistently wedded to the old ways, are getting used to new things, and are ready to accept whatever promises profit and prosperity. All ears are open, and the preaching of the gospel is nowhere opposed or resisted. I often wish I were young again, just ready to start in on the bright opening campaign. In a large sense the future of the church and of the world lies wrapped up in this great people. Why in the providence of God the gospel of salvation has not long ere this reached this oldest and greatest nation is an unexplained mystery. These unconverted millions of the