Editors’ Table

EDITORS' TABLE 341 ical sketches of leading elders who have tion of a voluminous history of the Scan- been on missions in that country. These dinavian mission — eighteen large manu- biograpliical sketches and portraits appear script volumes, — covering a period of 78 in the text of the history itself, which years, which the author has gathered on covers the story of the gospel in the three various missions in those countries. No northern lands, Norway, Sweden and Den- pains ha9 been spared to make the work mark, from the time the first mission of authentic and reliable in every particular; the Church was established there, in 1850, and the author says that the work has up to and including 1927. The index been a labor of love on his part, and is a contains about four hundred names, men- tribute to his race — stalwart sons and tioned in the text, of elders who have daughters of the North. The volume will served in the mission field in Scandinavia be valuable, both for reading and as a ref- during the years mentioned. The con- erence work for all interested in the Scan- tents of the present volume is a condensa- dinavian mission. The Desert Old as the eternities, you seem; Grown bald from constant sweeping of the wind And a too frequent glowing glare of sun, While mystery, deep as infinitude, Envelopes you, and from us, humankind, Does oft the purpose of your being hide. Your unslaked thirst, a menace unto man. Sets you apart and lets him not abide With you o'er long to share your solitude: But, oh! when comes the graying eventide. That terminates in majesty of night, I lay my weary head upon your breast. Unmindful that it ne'er yields nourishment; For more than meat you give. From ambient light Reflected by the stars, you weave for me The wonder of a glorious canopy; And from the vastness of your silence breathes A whispering assurance to set free my doubting soul. E'en as nature in compassion gives Occasional oases unto you, Does the Omnipotent, the Mas-ter Mind, Lead me, with love unwavering and true, Away from civilization's smooth-trod paths. That I may find the fonts of heaven more near. Through holding converse with the heart of you. Grace Ingles Frost