it, but I wish to tell you, that of those arrested in that so-called "conspiracy case," almost all were Christians. Knowing this, we do not wonder that the Koreans, Christian and heathen alike, believed that it was aimed at the Christians. The police were active in trying to impress upon the people how unpopular it was to become a Christian or go to a Christian school. A Korean decides to become a Christian, and the next day the police call to ask him why he has adopted that faith. This new believer knows that his name is on the police records, and that because of becoming a Christian he is a marked man. One of the Japanese gentlemen who preceded me on the program this afternoon told us something about the police activities in Japan proper. If such conditions prevail in Japan, they are so much the worse in Korea. I wish I could take you in thought across the Pacific to the entrance of the prisons in Korea. I would that the prison doors would open, and that one would come out of those doors! This prisoner, now barefooted and dressed in the red prison jeans, once addressed the world's great conventions. He gave a remarkable address at the Edinburgh Conference. He can speak English as well as most of us, and besides his native tongue can speak, fluently, French, Chinese, and Japanese. To-day he is behind prison-bars. This is one of our educators, President of the Anglo-Korean School in Songdo. This Korean Christian gentleman, Baron Yun Tchi Ho, with five others of his fellow-countrymen, has been sentenced to six years' penal servitude on the unjust charge of having conspired against the Japanese Governor-General of Korea, Count Trauchi. The same evidence that released the 113 was used to convict these six. Last June, when I was leaving Korea, I stopped in Tai Ku. On request, permission was granted to me by the Japanese prison authorities to see Baron Yun. In prayer he thanked God for keeping him well up to that time. He asked God to make the Christians outside realize that God's ways are best; that, even though he might not be released from prison, yet he was in the place where God wanted him, a witness for Jesus in prison. I felt, as I looked into the face of that servant of Christ in bonds, that I was looking into the face of a Paul.

The Korean Church has been going through a crisis, and it has stood strong. Although this time of test affected the schools somewhat, they have not been ruined. It has taken Christian courage to stand firm, and the Koreans have not been found wanting. In the Hugh O'Neill, Jr., Academy at Syen Chun, of which I am principal, all the teachers and more than one fourth of the students were cast into prison. The school was not closed. The students were given extra classes in Bible-study to substitute for regular work; arrests occurred continually, and although the severest pressure was brought to bear upon the students to leave, not a single student left the school. They stayed until I closed the school in

December. Duty called them to stay and study; to prepare themselves to do a work for God, and they trusted Him. After I closed the school, those boys went out preaching, and I know of many Churches to which new life was given and others that were saved in the terrible crisis because of the aggressive work of students. That showed strong character such as the abiding, unseen Christ alone can develop in a man.

The Korean students are well worth the effort used in educating them. Those students were led to prison by the Japanese police, but they had their Bibles in their pockets and Jesus in their hearts. The Bibles were taken from them, but they could not take Jesus away. One of them, who could speak the Japanese language, on asking permission of one of the gendarmes, was allowed to take his little vest-pocket New Testament with him into the old prison in Seoul, where they were first cast. When he found that none of the others had their Bibles, he took his New Testament, tore it leaf from leaf, and passed them through cracks into the next cell, and thence they went to other cells, until everyone in that prison had some leaves of the Word of God. They read, studied and memorized the material, exchanging leaves with one another until some of them knew most of the New Testament by heart. During the months they had been in this prison, before they were taken across the city to the police headquarters for examination, they made good use of the time. "We had better get it all into our heads now while we have the chance, for we may not have the opportunity when they take us into the other prison," they said.

God was preparing them for a time of terrible testing. They were taken to a place where they went through what is called the examination by the police. This was done in secret. Certain statements were written out, to which the prisoner was asked to assent. These statements were in the form of a confession. A prisoner never could have known how to make statements of such falsehoods as to names and dates which agreed accurately with the statement of every other man. They would try to force a prisoner to assent to these lies that implicated others. He refused. He was tortured, but still refused to assent to the lies. Many different forms of tortures were used, but he still stood out against it. "Kill me, kill me! but I won't lie!" he cried. But they wouldn't kill him. Many of them have said that it would have been much easier to die, but the police would not let them. When they became unconscious, or received severe injuries inflicted by the police, the skilful physicians saw to it that they should not die. These men showed the true martyr spirit. That is what Christian education is doing for the Koreans-teaching them not only to know the right but giving them the power to do the right in the face of worse than death.

Christian education teaches the Korean how to acquire power for Christian service. The experience of one of the students, a

fine, handsome, sweet boy, illustrates this. He had been brought almost to the point of starvation and was taken to the room where the Japanese police examined him at night. He refused to assent to the lies and was tortured time after time in different ways. He became much emaciated, his body was sore and feverish from torture and exposure, and his mind was weakened. A man in the cell next to him urged him to go out that night and give the desired assent. "God will forgive you, and you can get to your parents, who are looking for you and longing for your return," whispered the older prisoner, who was not a Christian. The boy yielded to the temptation, decided that if they would take him out of his cell that night to the place of torture he would assent. They came for him. While he was jerked along by a chain they had attached to his handcuffs, he thought of his decision. "No liar shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven," rang in his ears. "I will not assent to a lie," he said, when they asked him to confirm such statements as this:

We all gathered in Room No. 8 of the Hugh O'Neill, Jr., Academy in Syen Chun. There were present [here were the names of many Koreans, of most of whom he had never even heard, and of some missionaries, among which names were those of Bishop Harris, Dr. Underwood, and Dr. Moffett]. Mr. McCune made a speech, saying that the revolvers were made ready, and the Governor-General would soon be coming through Syen Chun on his way to the dedication of the bridge over the Yalu River. Mr. McCune said that we were to go to the railway station together, armed and with courage to do the deed. In order that we might not make a mistake, he promised us that he would shake hands with the Governor-General, and that we were to be brave and shoot the man with whom he would shake hands.

They stripped that faithful Christian boy, tied his thumbs together, and hung him up in mid-air by his thumbs. "It is a lie! I will not say it!" he cried. He was crazed with pain. When I saw this boy when he was released four months after that time, he told me this story:

It seemed to me at that terrible moment, when I felt in my prison-cell that I was about to say "yes," that God left me. I could not see His face as I had seen it before. I prayed and prayed, but it was hard to get near God. As I prayed, calling for Jesus, the agonized look on my face was too terrible for the policemen that were torturing me, and they put a mask over my face, so that they could not see that look. They would touch my body with a lighted cigarette. Finally, I said, "Let me down!" As I was being let down, Jesus came to me. He put His face right in front of my face; He put His arms over my shoulders-my Jesus!-and he put His palms on my palms-my Jesus!-and I felt the hole in His palms, and I said, "No!" I became unconscious, and was taken out. It was the last time I was tortured.

Something else happened that night. It was in Syen Chun. I had gone to bed about half-past ten. About half-past twelve, I became wide awake on my bed. I thought I could see that boy standing beside my bed. The vision seemed very real. I pinched myself to see whether I was really awake, and still that boy stood there, looking at me, and saying, "I need you!" There was only one place to which I could go to help him. I went up to the attic,

and there I talked with God, my Father, about him, and asked Him to do the thing that I would like to do. That occurred on the very night that Jesus came when the boy was hanging by his thumbs in prison.

The education that makes those who are educated believe in the Bible, and believe in prayer like that, is worth while. It may be God's plan to use the Koreans to do a great work in the Far East in teaching others that any education that does not make God and His Son real, and that does not exalt the Bible, is not a Christian education.

Look again with me at that little country between Japan and China, old Korea. Notice the shape it assumes and the way it faces. It is a question-mark. It is at the end of China, and China is the question. In silence it stands; but Korea to-day is thinking of answering that question for China. There is but one way for her to do her part. The call has come, and Korea has answered. Three of the best trained Koreans have been sent as missionaries to China to preach the Gospel to those millions. Korea says, "Give China Christ, and the question will be answered."

In conclusion, let me say that what you do for Korea in the way of education, in the way of giving your life, in the way of giving your time or knowledge or energy, you are doing for China. The time is ripe for China. I do pray that, although you do not hear appeals from Korea during this Convention, some of you will see that question-mark and answer China. Come to Korea and help us in our educational work. Help us educate, as we ought to be doing to-day, not the limited few but the thousands who want the Christian education. We have not the necessary force, and it is a hard task that lies before us. Students, come over and help. Give them a chance. They deserve it. They put God first; be willing to go to China to represent Jesus Christ.

In Korea we have an opportunity of training such men and women as those we read of in the Acts of the Apostles. As the Israelites were chosen, a people to represent God throughout the world, so we have in Korea a nation, chosen of God to represent Christ His Son in this new age of materialism. May some students here to-day feel the call of Korea to help in the task of educating these 200,000 already evangelized, that they may evangelize all Korea and the Far East.

NEED FOR THE SPEEDY EVANGELIZATION OF KOREA

THE REVEREND J. L. JERDINE, SEOUL, KOREA

THE subject assigned to me is the need for the speedy evangelization of Korea. This question, regarding any land, needs no argument before a Student Volunteer Convention, as the Chairman of the Movement in the report of the Executive Committee so emphasized world-evangelization as our intent. It follows, therefore, that anything less than this is only a fractional part of the task set before us. Since, however, we can best effect this one mighty, stupendous question of evangelization along national and racial lines of distinction, we can properly and profitably consider where emphasis can best be placed at a particular time. There are three reasons why Korea calls for this special emphasis.

The first is because speedy evangelization is feasible. A good part of a generation has already slipped away since the Student Volunteer Movement adopted as its Watchword "the evangelization of the world in this generation." Is it not time that some earnest were given of the feasibility of this great purpose, and what could be more vital than that one of the great pagan nations should thus be speedily evangelized? No field offers a better opportunity than Korea for speedy evangelization.

Before my vision rises that small country, the area of which is only that of the State of Kansas, and I recall that there are no difficult or impassable mountains, streams, or swamps that make it impossible or even especially difficult to reach any and all portions of it, and it possesses a favorable climate. Missionaries leaving America or Canada for Korea have not to undergo any marked climatic change. I remember, too, that we have there a people who are homogeneous; they are not composed, as on many mission fields, of numerous tribes, but are one homogeneous people, one in origin and language, one in history, one in national mode. You know of the difficulty found in some of our fields on account of varying dialects and diverse speech; but in Korea we are relieved from this. Then, too, there is a national, easily-written language, so that not only in youth but in middle life everyone learns to read. Obviously, this is a great advantage to speedy evangelization. Further, we have the unusual phenomenon of a people who have no strongly