In these days, when the world is being swept clean with the besom of temperance, the poet who sings the song of temperance is the "poet that sings to battle." Lindsay has done this in some lines in his "General William Booth Enters Into Heaven," which he admits having written while a field worker in the Anti-Saloon League in Illinois. At the end of each verse we have one of these three couplets: "But spears are set, the charge is on, Wise Arthur shall be King!" "Fierce Cromwell builds the flower-bright towns And a more sunlit land;" and, "Our God establishes his arm And makes the battle sure!" General William Booth. He puts the temperance worker in the "Round Table" under the heading, "King Arthur's Men Have Come Again." He lifts the battle to a high realm. "To go about redressing human wrongs," as King Arthur's Knights were sworn to do, would certainly be a most appropriate motto for the modern Christian temperance worker, and Lindsay is the only poet acknowledged by the literary world who has sung this Galahad's praise with keen insight. But his greatest poem, "The Congo," that poem which has captured the imagination of the literary world and which is so little known to the Christian world--where it ought to be known best of all--will give a glimpse of the new Christian influence on the races. The poet suggests that it be chanted to the tune of the old hymn, "Hark, ten thousand harps and voices." It is a strange poem. It is so new that it is startling, but it has won. Listen to its strange swing, and see its stranger pictures. Through the thin veneer of a new civilization, back of the Christianized Negro race, the poet sees, under the inspiration of a missionary sermon delivered in a modern church, the race that was: "Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room, Barrel-house kings with feet unstable, Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table, Pounded on the table, Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom, Hard as they were able, Boom, boom, BOOM With a silk umbrella, and the handle of a broom, Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM Then I had religion, then I had a vision. I could not turn from their revel in derision. THEN I SAW THE CONGO CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK, CUTTING THROUGH THE FORESTS WITH A GOLDEN TRACK!" The Congo. Then follows as vital, vivid, and vigorous a description as ever was written by pen, inspired of God, tipped with fire, of the uplift and redemption of the Negro race, through Jesus Christ.