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SAME BOAT 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 
 (Price Ten Cents) 
 
All in The Same Boat 
 
 By 
 REV. WILLIAM' H. FISH BURN. D.D. 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in West Adams Presbyterian 
 
 Church, Los Angeles, California, 
 
 June 9, 1918 
 

 F57SV7 
 [ff3 
 
 Published by order of the Session. 
 
 
^ 
 
 All In The Same Bo^t 
 
 Acts 27:30-31:; fh&siitdSri \y ere ^ about 
 to flee out of tfie* snip; 'ivlien ' ' / ,J ? * J 
 Paul said . . . Except these 
 abide in the ship, ye cannot be saved. 
 
 I like this Captain Julius in our Scripture 
 lesson. I can hear his voice ringing above the 
 tumult of the Mediterranean storm : — "Back 
 to the decks ! Back to the decks, every man of 
 you ! You ensign, there, — you with the sword, 
 — cut that rope ! Cast that life-boat loose ! 
 Let no man leave this ship !" 
 
 It happened in the dark, you know. The 
 sailors mutinied. They stole the life boat. 
 They were in the act of lowering it into the 
 sea when they were apprehended. They were 
 going to be saved no matter who else perished. 
 Every man for himself! What cared they for 
 the soldiers and the prisoners on board, so 
 long as they saved their own skins? 
 
 And then Captain Julius intervened : — "Set 
 that life-boat adrift! Back to your posts, ev- 
 ery sneaking, shirking, skulking man of you ! 
 If this ship ride the storm, all of us shall be 
 saved together ! If she go to the bottom, all 
 of us shall take the death-plunge together ! We 
 are all in the same boat, and in the same boat 
 all shall remain!" 
 
 If you care to do it you may turn this fine 
 sea story into a parable. The storm is the 
 Great War. So far as we, personally, are con- 
 cerned, the ship that is carrying us through 
 the storm is the United States. 
 
 None of us may desert the ship. We are all 
 weathering the same storm ; we are all bound 
 for the same destination. If the good ship win 
 
 453178 3 
 
through, it will be well with us all ; if the good 
 ship go down, woe to lis all! We are all in 
 the same boat. 
 
 If we stand, we all stand together ; if we fall, 
 we aH fall 'together. We are all in the same 
 boat. We are all doing the same thing just 
 now, — that is, all loyal people are doing the 
 same thing. Are you buying Liberty Bonds? 
 So is everybody else. 
 
 Are you collecting Thrift Stamps? Pur- 
 chasing War-saving Stamps? So is everybody 
 else that has money. Are you giving your 
 boys to the nation? So is every home that has 
 a boy that measures up to the standards. Are 
 you denying yourself of the foods you like? 
 Are you opening your hand wide to the appeals 
 of the Red Cross, of the Y. M. C. A., of the 
 Y. W. C. A., of the K. of C? Are you knitting? 
 Are you sewing? Are you rolling bandages? 
 Are you making sacrifices? Are you doing 
 your bit? So is everybody else. We are all 
 in the same boat. 
 
 United we stand, divided we fall. Never 
 before did the whole nation do team-work as it 
 is doing team-work today. Nobody is exempt. 
 Nobody can get away from the boat. The 
 humblest is needed as well as the loftiest. Ev- 
 erybody who does his best is of importance. 
 
 Nobody can tell just now who is of most 
 importance. Each of us has his place. No one 
 can claim to be of more worth than his neigh- 
 bor. We are all of worth. Mr. Andrew Car- 
 negie asked in one of his essays : "Which is 
 the most important leg on a three-legged 
 stool?" In the affairs of the nation just now 
 every person is important. You are import- 
 ant, and you, and you. We are all in the same 
 boat. 
 
 In your own domestic life, which member 
 of the family is of most importance? In a 
 4 
 
great many homes the father feels himself to 
 be vastly the most important. 
 
 When father comes home in the evening, 
 let the wife be restrained and quiet. Let the 
 children go on tip-toes. Father has earned the 
 bread on the table in the sweat of his face. 
 Bring father his slippers. Don't stir father 
 up. "I am Sir Oracle, and when I open my 
 lips let no dog bark." Make it comfortable 
 for father; no difference about mother and the 
 children. 
 
 The self-important man is unaware that the 
 mother who makes his house a home, that the 
 little girl with her dolls, that the small boy 
 in knickerbockers, that the wee baby asleep in 
 the crib, each is, in the eyes of our Lord, of 
 just as much importance as he is. They are all 
 in the same boat. 
 
 There are many persons in this beloved 
 country who seem to be quite oblivious to the 
 fact that our Ship of State is battling its way 
 through a great storm. They have not awak- 
 ened to the knowledge that this nation is at 
 war, that it is a partner, with a score of other 
 nations, in the prosecution of the most stu- 
 pendous war that ever shook this planet since 
 the beginning of human time. 
 
 But God in His compassion is awakening 
 these people who are asleep, is awakening all 
 of us, to the fact that we are at war. One week 
 ago the War set its Red Foot on our door- 
 step, and put out its Finger and rang our door- 
 bell ! 
 
 The raid on American shipping along our 
 Eastern coast has startled us out of our slum- 
 ber. The Enemy is at our gates ! 
 
 And some of our citizens, for the first time, 
 are becoming aware that this war against Ger- 
 many does not concern only Canada, and 
 France and England and Belgium and Italy 
 5 
 
and other European nations, but that it con- 
 cerns us, us of America, and that our destinies 
 are bound up with the destinies of Canada and 
 of the allied nations of Europe, and that, 
 whether we call them our allies or not, we are 
 all in the same boat. 
 
 Not yet have we heard in America the 
 "bombs bursting in air" over New York City 
 and Philadelphia and Chicago and Los An- 
 geles and San Francisco and the other popu- 
 lous centers, as they are hearing them in Eu- 
 rope, and we pray our heavenly Father morn- 
 ing, noon and night that we may never hear 
 them. Not yet have the majority of our Amer- 
 ican homes been darkened by the great sor- 
 row of remembering one son or two sons or 
 three sons who have gone down into the Val- 
 ley of the Great Shadow, and we pray our 
 Heavenly Father morning, noon and night 
 that that sorrow may not fall upon our homes 
 as it has fallen upon the homes of Canada and 
 of Europe. 
 
 We are at war against an alliance of fiends, 
 an alliance of Darkness ; an alliance that 
 counts not the lives of its own men dear; an 
 alliance that would, if it could, turn this whole 
 earth into a huge slaughter house in order to 
 make itself the world master, — in order to be- 
 stow upon the Emperor of Germany the title 
 "King of Kings and Lord of Lords!" 
 
 We are in the midst of the great storm, sirs, 
 we are in the midst of the great storm, and we 
 are all in the same boat. But there are per- 
 sons who would seize the life-boat (if there 
 were any life-boat), and would flee to some 
 safe haven (if there were any safe haven), 
 and would leave the rest of us to battle w r ith 
 the storm alone. 
 
 I suppose there is not a really loyal Ameri- 
 can who has ever had any dubiety about how 
 
the war is going, to end, or who has any du- 
 biety about it now. We know as if it were 
 a thing already accomplished, that we Ameri- 
 cans with our partners are going to win the 
 war. Never allow any ambiguity about that 
 to have a place in your heart or to come to 
 expression on your lip. 
 
 But there are some very equivocal Ameri- 
 cans living in America who are prolonging the 
 war by self-pity, by cry-baby philosophy, by 
 half-heartedness, by giving way to war-weari- 
 ness, by fear, by out-and-out cowardice. 
 
 There is a certain percentage of humankind 
 that are more ready to run than they are to 
 stand their ground and fight. 
 
 You may have heard of the young lady who 
 showed to her visitors a relic of the Civil War, 
 her grandfather's drum, and she said, "He car- 
 ried it all through the war, and every time he 
 saw the enemy approaching he would beat it." 
 
 There are many who try to escape from the 
 storms of life ; who refuse to bear the responsi- 
 bilities of life; who even leap overboard from 
 the ship of life and drown themselves in the 
 depths of the sea. 
 
 There are those who flee from temptations. 
 They hide themselves from life's temptations. 
 They go away from men and women — they 
 escape from the conflict with evil — at least 
 they attempt to escape from it — by running 
 away. They do not resist the devil and make 
 him flee. They do the fleeing themselves. 
 
 There are some who murmur against God 
 when He sends to them their due allotment of 
 pain and sorrow. They try to find a way of 
 escape from the common ills of life. 
 
 O, sir, who are you, who am I, to demand 
 immunity from the storms, to demand free- 
 dom from all trial, all pain, all care, all burden, 
 
when the whole creation has been groaning 
 and travailing with pain until this moment? 
 
 There are men — I call them men only be- 
 cause they are adult male human beings — who, 
 when the cares of home-life become many, 
 when there is sickness, hardship, debt, — for- 
 sake the ship, run away, hide* themselves, 
 leave wife and children to struggle, unhelped, 
 against the storm. 
 
 Paul says in our lesson, "Except these abide 
 in the ship, the rest of you cannot be saved." 
 And when anyone deserts, runs away, leaves 
 his post, it increases the burden and the peril 
 of those who are left behind. 
 
 One of the bitterest episodes in this war is 
 the abandoning of the ship, when the storm 
 was at its height, by one whole nation, the 
 biggest, territorially, of all the nations. Rus- 
 sia has a mark across her forehead that time 
 will never be able to erase. Russia got out 
 of the ship. She stole the life-boat. She de- 
 serted her Allies. She sneaked away. And 
 we are going to pay in good, red, American 
 blood for this default of Russia. 
 
 Our President says he is going to stand by 
 Russia and help Russia. So am 1, but, in the 
 heart of my heart, I don't want to do it. I 
 am going to do it only because I am going to 
 stand by the President. 
 
 I confidently believe that, had Russia re- 
 mained faithful to her Allies, had she stood 
 by the ship, by this time the violence of the 
 storm would have exhausted itself, and the 
 ship would be sailing just now over a less tur- 
 bulent sea. 
 
 The United States has entered into this war 
 at last with all her heart and all her soul and 
 all her mind and all her strength; and she is 
 going to "see it through" ; she is going to be 
 in it at the finish. 
 
You saw on some of the banners in the 
 parade a week ago the phrase, "Can the 
 Kaiser." Every American who is trained in 
 the higher meanings of the English language 
 understands that phrase, "Can the Kaiser." 
 
 But, when our boys marched through the 
 streets of London shouting it as a watchword, 
 it needed some explication. A Londoner asked 
 his favorite newspaper what it might mean. 
 And the newspaper made it quite clear to him, 
 like this: "To 'can' in the American sense 
 may mean to incarcerate the Kaiser in a place 
 of forcible detention like a prison or a peni- 
 tentiary ; or it may be used in the sense of 
 hermetically sealing up the Kaiser in an air- 
 tight receptaculum such as a tin can, in order 
 to preclude the possibility of his subsequent 
 fermentative and malevolent activities. " ■ 
 
 That ought to have made it transparently 
 clear to the inquiring Londoner. 
 
 Just as surely as the days go on the Kaiser 
 and his associates in military despotism are 
 going to "get what's coming to them." Presi- 
 dent Wilson made this plain in his Baltimore 
 speech, splendidly, gloriously plain. He said 
 words that have marvelous power. You can 
 imagine you see the stiffening of the Presi- 
 dent's jaw muscles as he speaks. 
 
 "Germany has once more said that force 
 and force alone shall decide whether justice 
 and peace shall reign in the affairs of men, 
 whether right as America conceives it, or 
 dominion as she conceives it shall determine 
 the destinies of mankind. There is, therefore, 
 but one response possible from us : Force, 
 force to the utmost, force without stint or 
 limit, the righteous and triumphant force 
 which shall make right the law of the world 
 and cast every selfish dominion down in trie 
 dust." 
 
Those are words with the bark on. They 
 are the words of a man of prayer, of a man 
 who has accepted Jesus Christ as his Pattern 
 and Guide, and who has vowed to follow Jesus 
 Christ as Master and Lord. And the Presi- 
 dent's lines have gone forth into all the earth, 
 and his words unto the ends of the world. 
 
 Many strange things have happened during 
 the great storm through which we are pass- 
 ing, but none more strange than the statement 
 coming from 107 members of the Society of 
 Friends. The Quakers have always stood as 
 a unit against force, against righting, against 
 war. The main body of the Society still 
 stands against all war. But these men, — men 
 like Lippincott, Clothier, Sharpless, Janney, 
 Newcomer, Tyson, Swain, Lamb, Stabler, 
 Haines, — names that stand for the best of the 
 best — these men have written and signed the 
 document that bears the words : 
 
 "Believing that it is not enough at this time 
 to be neutral and that the views of the Society 
 of Friends have not been adequately repre- 
 sented by the official statements of its execu- 
 tives nor by the utterances of many of its pub- 
 lic speakers, we feel a desire to follow the 
 course of our brethren in England, who both 
 now and in their past history have realized 
 that there are unusual and extraordinary cir- 
 cumstances of infrequent occurrence which 
 cannot be rigidly or fully met by any man- 
 made Church Discipline. We therefore deem 
 it consistent with our Quaker faith to act ac- 
 cording to the dictates of our own conscience, 
 and to proclaim a unity with the teachings of 
 Jesus Christ and the messages of the Presi- 
 dent of our country." 
 
 If you knew the Quakers as I know them 
 from long residence amongst them, — if you 
 
 10 
 
know how conservative they are, you would 
 say, after reading this statement, what I have 
 said a great many times since reading it : 
 "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming 
 of the Lord ; His truth is marching on." 
 
 America is united like the clenched fist to 
 strike at the devilism of Germany — and Ger- 
 many is going to receive the staggering blows 
 until she reels and faints under them. 
 
 Last Wednesday, Secretary of State Lan- 
 sing said, in New York, when speaking of the 
 "perpetuation of Prussianism :" "Prussia hav- 
 ing wickedly sought war, it is the determina- 
 tion of the American people that Prussia shall 
 have war and more war and more war, until 
 the very thought of war is abhorrent to the 
 German mind." 
 
 We are not going to abandon the ship, sirs. 
 We are going to remain on the ship with the 
 Allied Nations until we bring the ship safe to 
 land. 
 
 These sailors in our lesson who seized the 
 life-boat and were about to steal away under 
 cover of the darkness were traitors ; they were 
 mutineers ; they were cowards ; they were 
 slackers. They didn't care who else went 
 down into the stormy sea so long as they 
 didn't go down. And we have the traitor and 
 the mutineer and the coward and the slacker 
 on board the Ship of State today sailing along 
 with us, pretending to be just as loyal as we 
 are, and all the time covertly planning to scut- 
 tle the ship, — some of them willing to go to 
 the bottom themselves if only they could send 
 America and everything American to the bot- 
 tom. 
 
 We are giving blood and giving treasure to 
 destroy the Prussian who is seven thousand 
 miles away ; we are sending our sons to an- 
 il 
 
other hemisphere to shoot the Hun in his 
 homeland, — but there are Prussian spies here, 
 right here in the United States touching el- 
 bows with us, and we know they are here and 
 we catch them red-handed, and we try them 
 and prove that they are traitors, that they are 
 here to destroy our country and its institu- 
 tions, — and then, after finding them guilty, we 
 board them and lodge them and clothe them 
 and entertain them and amuse them at great 
 expense, for the duration of the war. 
 
 Wasn't there a song that went current one 
 time about hanging somebody on a sour-apple 
 tree? And may not some modern hymnolo- 
 gist rise up and give us a modern hymn 
 about the availability and the efficiency of six 
 yards of rope and a sour-apple-tree, and thus 
 render some of the haters of our beloved 
 country less boisterous and less' demonstra- 
 tive? 
 
 A number of years ago we used to read 
 books about China and we called it the "yel- 
 low peril." America is not so much worried 
 about the yellow peril just now as she is about 
 the yellow streak. Your slacker spells a cer- 
 tain word p-a-c-i-f-i-s-t, and pronounces it 
 "pacifist." I spell it in the same way and 
 pronounce it "yellow." 
 
 There never was a brave man in all time 
 who was a pacifist in the present-day meaning 
 of the newly-coined word. 
 
 The pacifist is not restrained from fighting 
 because he is so religious, but because he is so 
 yellow. He has a yellow streak down his back 
 vivid enough to emit light. 
 
 The pacifist is not merciful ; he is white-liv- 
 ered. He is not tender-hearted ; he is chicken- 
 hearted. 
 
 If the devil got a stone in his cloven hoof, 
 12 
 
the pacifist would meekly and benignantly ex- 
 tract the stone, put a bread-and-milk poultice 
 on his hoof, lay him in a nice white hospital 
 cot, and gently nurse him back to health so 
 that he might be turned loose once more to 
 prey upon human society. 
 
 The pacifist is not helping to sail the ship; 
 he is hindering; and his punishment after the 
 storm, is over will be to receive the contempt 
 and the reprobation of all right-thinking men. 
 
 These shipmen in the lesson were disloyal. 
 We do not know what penalty was inflicted 
 on them for disloyalty. Maybe Captain Julius 
 put them in irons. Maybe they were executed 
 for disloyalty when they reached home. We do 
 not know. 
 
 But we do know that we have disloyal peo- 
 ple traveling with us on the ship. Also we 
 know that we cannot execute them all or even 
 incarcerate them all. But we can do this, we 
 who are loyal can be extra-special-loyal. We 
 can be one hundred per cent simon-pure 
 American, — and we can ostracize that which 
 we know is not one hundred per cent Ameri- 
 can. 
 
 For example, there is the newspaper. The 
 newspaper that is not one hundred per cent 
 loyal in these days of testing is disloyal. The 
 newspaper that is not patriotic from its first 
 page Title to the last line of its last page is 
 disloyal. The newspaper that carries secret 
 hints of pro-German sympathy in its cleverly 
 camouflaged editorials is disloyal. And 
 whether that paper represents power and in- 
 fluence or not, really loyal Americans will de- 
 cline to be numbered amongst its supporters. 
 
 Then there is the slacker. The slacker who 
 is able to work and will not work either be- 
 cause he is so rich he need not work or so lazy 
 
 13 
 
he hates work, is disloyal ; and it is pleasant to 
 know that the man who can work and will not 
 work is going to be made to work. 
 
 Then there is the profiteer. The profiteer 
 who is filling his pockets with money by tak- 
 ing advantage of the adversities of his fellow- 
 men, — who is growing rich so fast that those 
 who are working in his employ demand that 
 they, too, shall be speedily enriched, — is dis- 
 loyal, and our Government is finding him out 
 and is preparing for him a form of retribution 
 that will exactly fit his crime. 
 
 And there is the man who works for this 
 profiteer, whether union laboring man or non- 
 union laboring man, who strikes, who resorts 
 to violence, because this Government is for the 
 nonce in a tight place. He is. disloyal. 
 
 It is a good thing that there are labor unions 
 to protect the toiler from the rapacity of the 
 rich, — but this is no time to discuss the rights 
 and wrongs of unions or non-unions. There 
 is only one Union just now that all loyal peo- 
 ple care for and are thinking about by day and 
 by night: — 
 
 "What God in His infinite wisdom designed, 
 And armed with the weapons of thunder, 
 Not all of the despots and factions combined 
 Have the power to conquer or sunder! 
 
 The Union of Lakes, the Union of lands, 
 The Union of States none can sever; 
 
 The Union of Hearts and the Union of hands, 
 And the Flag of the Union forever!" 
 
 There is in this New Testament another sea- 
 story in which the living Jesus is present with 
 the men on board when a great storm breaks. 
 And Jesus is weary, and lies asleep with His 
 head on the pillow. And the storm grows to 
 a tempest, and the men are filled with terror, 
 and they awaken the Master with the cry, 
 14 
 
"Carest thou not that we perish?'' And He 
 arises and rebukes the wind and the sea, and 
 there is a great calm. 
 
 And so, in this storm of war that is blowing 
 around us, we are sometimes afraid. We need 
 not be afraid. The Master is on board the 
 ship that carries us, and He will bring the 
 ship into the desired haven. Civilization is not 
 going to be wrecked. Tyranny is not going to 
 be the victor. 
 
 Jesus Christ is winning His way in this war. 
 Jesus Christ is conquering the hosts of wrong. 
 He is getting His will done in ways that are 
 past your rinding out and mine. 
 
 We are living in the day of the doom of 
 Kings. The doom of Kings and Kaisers and 
 Emperors and princes and dukes and earls is 
 written in a writing that cannot be invalidated 
 or destroyed ; the universal brotherhood of 
 man is coming; we have the sure promise of it. 
 The handwriting that signs it is the hand- 
 writing of Him who bled on the Cross, and the 
 Red Seal that attests the writing shows the 
 print of a pair of Wounded Hands. Surely 
 you give thanks to Jesus Christ for that prom- 
 ise and its approaching fulfilment, and so do I. 
 
 Today a man is a man. The uniforms have 
 expunged the ancient marks of social distinc- 
 tion. The blacksmith's son sleeps in the same 
 tent with the banker's son, and fights in the 
 same trench and eats from the same dish and 
 drinks from the same canteen ; the reign of 
 the common people is coming; and you give 
 thanks to your Lord for that, and so do I. 
 
 Today the sexes are being equalized by the 
 giving of the vote to the woman. The day is 
 in sight in this America when the woman will 
 have the full franchise in every state; and you 
 can count on the fingers of one hand the num- 
 ber of the years that wait when she will have 
 IS 
 
the full franchise in every civilized land on the 
 globe; and you thank your Lord for that, and 
 so do I. 
 
 Today some differentiating titles are grow- 
 ing dim and fading. We are discovering that 
 there is a larger, finer word than Republican 
 or Democrat or Prohibitionist or Socialist, and 
 that is the word American. All real Ameri- 
 cans are in the same boat ; every true Ameri- 
 can is American to the last drop of blood in 
 him ; and you rejoice religiously over that, and 
 so do I. 
 
 Today, as if it were a miracle let down to 
 earth out of God's white heaven, the prohibit- 
 ing of the manufacture of and the commerce in 
 all intoxicating liquors is speedily coming. 
 
 There is going to be, ere long, a bone-dry 
 United States and a bone-dry Canada and a 
 bone-dry British Empire, — a bone-dry France, 
 Italy, Russia, Austria. Germany, — a bone-dry 
 world. 
 
 King Alcohol, with his wrists bound, is 
 seated in the tumbrel-cart, and is riding 
 towards that executioner who knows no pity 
 and will listen to no protest. And you are 
 giving thanks to Almighty God for that, and 
 so am I. 
 
 Jesus Christ is Himself aboard the ship that 
 carries His people, and the ship is not adrift, 
 and it is not going down. He is piloting it. 
 
 Today the whole earth is awaiting the com- 
 ing of His Gospel of Peace. As soon as the 
 war-gates close the gospel-gates are going to 
 open ; the missionary will be welcomed by men 
 and women of every kindred and every tongue : 
 this holy Book will go into every land and ev- 
 ery kingdom, — offering to every people the 
 right to the Tree of Life whose leaves have 
 been divinely appointed for the healing of the 
 nations. 
 
 16 
 

i i 
 
 APPETITE" 
 
 f 
 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 
"APPETITE" 
 
 By 
 
 Rev. William H. Fishburn, D. D. 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in West Adams Presbyterian 
 
 Church, Los Angeles, California 
 
 January 26, 1913 
 
* , * - *' 
 
"APPETITE " 
 
 Prov. 16:26. "The appetite of him that la- 
 boreth laboreth for him; for his hunger driveth 
 
 him on." 
 
 The Greatest man in the world at this mo- 
 ment is the Hungriest man. The greatest 
 man that ever was in the world was the man 
 with the sharpest Hunger. His Hunger was 
 a Hunger that wasted Him and at last killed 
 Him. 
 
 The measure of any man's greatness is the 
 measure of his Hunger. Do you question 
 that? You will not question it if you study 
 it deeply. It is true. The Hungry man has 
 always and everywhere been the great man. 
 No man ever yet became truly great until he 
 was devoured by Hunger. 
 
 One of the philosophers used to say, "Man 
 is a bundle of habits;" I amend that definition 
 and make it read, Man is a bundle of Appe- 
 tites. 
 
 A thing which nobody has ever seen but 
 which everybody has felt is Appetite, the driv- 
 ing force that God has placed behind every 
 
•APPETITE" 
 
 living creature/' Nobody has ever seen Appe- 
 tite, but everybody has felt it. 
 
 I have ventured to re-translate this text. In 
 the Authorized version the meaning is cloudy : 
 "He that laboreth laboreth for himself; for 
 his mouth craveth it of him." In the Re- 
 ed version it is made to read, "The Appe- 
 tite of the laboring man laboreth for him; for 
 his mouth urgeth him thereto." The version 
 as we are reading it here is. "The appetite 
 of him that laboreth laboreth for him; for his 
 Hunger driveth him on." 
 
 The inspired man who writes the text per- 
 ceives that some men are driven forward as 
 far as they can go in this world by the ap- 
 petite of the Mouth : but he perceives also that 
 some men, the highest men, are driven up- 
 ward and upward by the appetite of the Heart, 
 by the appetite of the Soul, by the appetite 
 of the Brain. 
 
 There is such a thing as mouth hunger; but 
 there is also such such a thing as heart-hunger, 
 soul-hunger, brain-hunger. The lower ani- 
 mals have none of the higher appetites. They 
 remain lower animals forever because their 
 appetites do not grow. The lower animals to- 
 day eat the same foods, and drink the same 
 drinks, and live in the same dens and jungles 
 and caves, that they ate and drank and lived 
 in tens of thousands of years ago. God has 
 
"APPETITE" 
 
 given to them none of the higher appetites of 
 Heart and Soul and Brain. 
 
 But to the most backward races of mankind 
 He has given some foreshadowing of these 
 higher appetites, and when man is shown the 
 better things, as, for example, this Book with 
 its revelations of Jesus Christ, and of the lar- 
 ger possibilities of man, instantly there springs 
 up within him the desire to become better — 
 a new Appetite grows in him — he gets heart- 
 hunger, soul-hunger, mind-hunger, and, like 
 all of his kind everywhere on the globe, "his 
 hunger driveth him on/' until he steps into 
 the procession, as Japan has so recently done, 
 and marches along with the marching host 
 towards a nobler civilization. 
 
 Appetite is the world-transformer! Appe- 
 tite is the impelling force behind all of us, and 
 it drives us on! 
 
 You will answer me, "Yes; appetite drives 
 some men upward and forward ; it drives some 
 men to eminence; it drives some men to mas- 
 tery and usefulness. But does not it drive 
 some men downward? Does not it drive 
 downward a great multitude that no man can 
 number — the glutton to beastliness, the drunk- 
 ard to sottishness, the gamester to crime and 
 insanity, the sensualist to shame and death?" 
 
 Your point is well taken ; but, sirs, does not 
 there reside back of every force that dr: 
 
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 i" :*. .!? •-• :' a* ::: ^ .' " ''.;.;• :*.;: :'■; < .■.::*.- 
 ■■< - : :':::.: v.- : :^ :*•■ ;. - .■- : : \i: :■.:".-.> y /•.:: 
 mill-sails* and that drives jour commerce 
 across the seas,, become a scourge? It may 
 bring pestilence on its wings; it may uproot 
 forests; it may obliterate villages and devas- 
 tate cities when it goes roaring past in the 
 tornado and the cyclone? 
 
 May not the power of Fire which drives en- 
 
 ; ;~_\: ::;. ' ■: y .:' \*\ c\\\:\^< ^ -•-:'":< 
 gather itself together and smite the earth as 
 with a cnrse in the form of a great confiagra- 
 
 M ay not the same energy that gives ns Elec- 
 
 that brings ns within whispering distance of 
 oar friends — may not that same energy wither 
 and blast and destroy when flung flaming oat 
 of the red fist of the lightning? 
 
 And just so Appetite, which a wise and 
 good Father meant to be a boon and a bless- 
 :r.<. '-v'.-.cr. •.:"":-: "A •--::. ' i': ?-.:r?uei :r. ::$ 
 ■.:■*■:?: 'c r.5 rr.i '■:: :n:e :. ' ~: a:.; :.:. : :*- 
 fence. 
 
 Mr. Darwin long ago gave it out as his con- 
 
 r.irf ir.i ir.irr.Ji*? :j.n*.r :" ~ -r^;: e :^f:e." 
 that is* app e tite . He did not know that he 
 
"APPETITE" 
 
 '.■'.' c.; •'-'-': c. .- r -'- r". i r - . ^ r. i: ." y7, ', *"- ~ :i i w.'^r. -: mil^ 
 that statement* Mr. Andrew Balfour came 
 afterwards and asked, "If these gorgeous exit- 
 orings come from appetite, where does ap- 
 petite come from?" Mr. Darwin was uncon- 
 sciously admitting that back of evolution 
 stands appetite, and bach oi appetite stands 
 God the Creator J 
 
 You cannot explain where beautifulness 
 comes from in any other way than by seeing 
 God the Father standing behind His world. 
 You have not explained the mystery when 
 you say, "at the core of the scheme lies ap- 
 petite," you must tell us where appetite comes 
 from. 
 
 Man is what he is because, in some way, 
 God touches him and forms hhn. Two boys 
 may be born of the same parents, reared un- 
 der the same influences, and one of them 
 may develop into a mere vulgar down and 
 the other into a genius. 
 
 I remember to have read that when Chief 
 Justice Chase stood in Hanover County, Vir- 
 ginia, at the birthplace of Patrick Henry, he 
 admired the scenery. He said, "What an at- 
 mosphere! What a view! No wonder that 
 such a location produced a Patrick Henry f 
 A farmer who stood there said, "I reckon 
 you're right, Mr. Chase, but this atmosphere 
 and these blue hills have always been here, 
 
"APPETITE" 
 
 but they haven't produced any more Patrick 
 Henry's." 
 
 We receive our appetites from God, sirs, 
 and we use them as we will. We put our in- 
 dividuality into them. 
 
 There are few of us in this privileged com- 
 munity who have ever been hungry, really 
 hungry. There are medical treatises that tell 
 us how insistent are the clamors of actual hun- 
 ger, hunger that becomes painful and deadly. 
 
 Few in our bountiful country have ever felt 
 Hunger. When one is veritably hungry he 
 does not notice that the napery is as white as 
 snow, that the goblets are of cut glass, that 
 the silver bears a monogram, and that the 
 china is hand painted. 
 
 Do you remember Ben Gunn in Stevenson's 
 Treasure Island? He had been marooned, left 
 alone on the island, for three years; and he 
 says to Jim who comes to rescue him, "Mate, 
 my heart is sore for Christian diet. You 
 mightn't happen to have a piece of cheese 
 about you now. No? Well, many's the long 
 night I've dreamed of cheese, toasted mostly 
 — and woke up again, and here I were." 
 
 The mere craving for food, especially in a 
 child, is almost insatiable. I read a letter to 
 Santa Claus in one of your newspapers last 
 week, and all one small boy asked for was 
 "two toy stores and a candy-shop." 
 
"APPETITE" 
 
 Now it is precisely thus with heart-hunger, 
 soul-hunger, mind-hunger. It never can be 
 satisfied in this world. It is written in this 
 Book, "God hath set the whole world in our 
 heart/' 
 
 There are men, hundreds of them, who 
 would if they could, take up the whole world 
 in their arms and hold it as their very own. 
 They want the earth, want it in the noblest 
 sense. They hunger for power; for heaps of 
 money; for shiploads of treasure; for honor- 
 able position; for the applause of the people; 
 for success such as no mortal has ever had 
 before; for fame that shall send their names 
 ringing down the world until the crack of 
 doom. 
 
 These longings are not to be regarded as 
 wicked. They are not wicked. They are 
 good. It is upon this insatiable Appetite for 
 place and power that the world is hinged. Man 
 cannot help wishing to excel, to be great. God 
 made him that way. God hath set the whole 
 world in his heart. 
 
 It is the Appetite to do better than any man 
 ever did before that turns every wheel that 
 is revolving. "The appetite of him that la- 
 boreth laboreth for him, for his Hunger driv- 
 eth him on." 
 
 It is awaste of time to protest against 
 this striving and power-hunger of mankind. 
 It will not stop because you reprehend it. You 
 
10 "APPETITE" 
 
 might as well make faces at the full moon as 
 make faces at the rivalry and roar and slam 
 of commerce in these days of yours. 
 
 God meant it to be this way, and it is going 
 to go on in this way until something comes 
 out of it all more lovely than you ever dream- 
 ed in your wildest visions. Man's soul-hun- 
 ger and heart-hunger and brain-hunger drive 
 him on. 
 
 The greatest man is the hungriest man. 
 What is that hunger to send the Bible yonder 
 and yonder to the farthest outposts of the 
 world? What is that hunger to find every 
 last man and woman and child in every hid- 
 den corner of every remotest land, and tell 
 them the blessed Gospel story? It is Mis- 
 sionary hunger. 
 
 There are some who do not approve of Mis- 
 sions. Their disapproval does not halt the 
 Missionary zeal. It goes on. God means 
 that it shall go on until every soul shall know 
 the Old, Old Story. 
 
 God hath set the whole world in the heart 
 of these Missionary men and women. They 
 are not fanatics any more than you cool-headed 
 business men are fanatics. They are only men 
 and women with heart-hunger, soul-hunger, 
 and their hunger is driving them on. 
 
 We owe it to the Driving Power of Appe- 
 tite that the world is as it is at this moment — 
 
"APPETITE" 11 
 
 not a perfect world by any means — but a 
 world that is surely, if slowly, going on unto 
 perfection. 
 
 Hunger-Driven men, you can see them all 
 the way back into farthest antiquity. Appe- 
 tite, the driving-power of Appetite has made 
 some men monsters, but it has made most men 
 Men. 
 
 You can see in remote times Abraham 
 driven by Faith-hunger; Moses driven by Lib- 
 erty-hunger; Daniel by Prayer-hunger; Paul 
 by Missionary-hunger; John the Divine by 
 Heaven-hunger. The great men in your Bible 
 were all driven by some form of Hunger. 
 
 Outside your Bible stands Caesar driven 
 by Power-hunger; Columbus by Discovery- 
 hunger; Napoleon by Conquest-hunger; Bee- 
 thoven by Music-hunger; Raphael by Color- 
 hunger. "The appetite of him that laboreth 
 laboreth for him; for his hunger driveth him 
 
 On." 
 
 Recent times have given us Pasteur driven 
 by Healing-hunger; Darwin by Investigation- 
 hunger; Edison by Invention-hunger — you 
 may extend the list until your tablets shall be 
 filled with the names of the illustrious who 
 were driven on by the compelling power of 
 some form of Appetite. 
 
 Our blessed Lord Jesus Himself was dom- 
 inated by Hunger. A Prophet wrote of Him 
 
12 "APPETITE" 
 
 that He should be an anguished Man, and 
 said, "He shall see of the anguish of His soul 
 and shall be satisfied. " His hunger was for 
 the saving of the whole world. God had set 
 the whole world in His heart, and His desire 
 was to save the souls and the bodies of a 
 thousand generations of men, down to the last 
 rolling up of the scroll of time. 
 
 Why are men going on from conquest to 
 conquest over nature and its powers today? 
 Because of the God-implanted Hunger in 
 heart and soul and brain. Hunger to Know 
 is driving them on. 
 
 Patient men who are in the laboratories 
 studying the origins of disease processes are 
 there because they are Hungry to Know. 
 Learned men have devised mechanisms to 
 isolate the atom; to measure the speed of a 
 light-wave; to roll distant stars into theiir 
 balances; to break up remotest suns into their 
 constituent elements ; to explore the subtle 
 ether and compel it to yield up its secret. Why 
 have they done these things? Because they 
 are driven by Hunger to Know, and their 
 hunger for exact knowledge cannot be satis- 
 fied. There are men of science who would 
 give their right hands to know the ultimate 
 and final truth about some one material thing, 
 a quest that has not yet been crowned with 
 success. 
 
'APPETITE" 13 
 
 No sooner is something settled by physical 
 science than it becomes again unsettled. We 
 used to imagine that if there was one thing 
 we understood it was Gravitation. But now 
 we are perfectly certain that if there is any 
 one thing we do not understand it is Gravi- 
 tation. They are questioning whether gravi- 
 tation is a push or a pull ; whether some tor- 
 sion of the ether pushes this book towards 
 my hand or whether some less complex tor- 
 sion of the ether pulls it towards my hand. 
 They will pursue the investigation. They can- 
 not stop. There is no stopping-place in exact 
 thinking. "The Appetite of him that laboreth 
 laboreth for him; for his hunger driveth him 
 on." 
 
 You have seen what one of our essayists 
 calls the "flying men in the aeroplane which 
 sings through the skies like a silver arrow, 
 the bleak white steel of it gleaming in the 
 bleak blue emptiness of upper space." Why 
 are they there, these flying men? They are 
 driven there by Hunger for Conquest, just 
 as bold men go, in defiance of deadly cold to 
 the North pole and the South pole. 
 
 There is a commandment to man — it is the 
 first commandment in your Bible — "Replenish 
 the earth, and subdue it, and have dominion." 
 God is compelling men to go on. He implants 
 in them the soul-hunger that drives them on. 
 
14 "APPETITE" 
 
 No sane minister would preach to his people 
 the gospel of discontent, that is bitterness of 
 spirit against things as they are. But I do 
 preach to you, my people, the gospel of Un- 
 content — of willingness to bear with things 
 as they are, to be patient — but to bear with 
 them not one moment longer than you must; 
 to be constantly following the hastening foot- 
 steps of the ongoing Jesus, and to be press- 
 ing toward the mark for the prize. 
 
 The desire that this world shall become 
 better than it is is not satanic but Godlike. 
 To be Un-satisfied with things as they are, 
 in the hope of making them better is not 
 wicked; it is noble. 
 
 Mr. W. S. Jackson in his book, "Nine Points 
 of the Law" says, "Be content, and you will 
 not want more than you have; be discon- 
 tent, and you shall eventually have what you 
 want." 
 
 There is no doubt that the more man 
 "wants" the harder he works. If no man had 
 a desire to do better the world would stop. 
 The craving for luxury is a stimulant to ef- 
 fort. 
 
 There are those who tell us they are per- 
 fectly satisfied with things just as they are. 
 They are not the persons who move others 
 or who do much moving themselves. They 
 are the world's drones, too indolent to have a 
 
'APPETITE" 15 
 
 desire, because desire would mean motion, and 
 their only desire is to be still. 
 
 You can never go back and be satisfied with 
 the moderate pleasures of the past. You 
 sometimes dream about going back, but you 
 are never, never going to do it. It is quite 
 fruitless to regret that it can't be done, be- 
 cause it is never going to be done. 
 
 It is not God's plan to turn back one leaf 
 in the lesson-book of Life and let us read it 
 over again. The things that were good enough 
 for your grandsires are not good enough for 
 you, and whosoever says they are good enough 
 is talking rubbish. The old times will never 
 come back. We are going forward. Hunger 
 driveth us on. 
 
 All have hunger for Comfort. What is com- 
 fort? To your horse it is hay and oats and a 
 bed of clean straw; to your dog it is a bone 
 to gnaw and a dish of water and a soft rug 
 to sleep on. But to you comfort is very com- 
 plex. You have multiplied the comforts and 
 now they have become necessities. You could 
 not abolish your telephone, and your daily 
 newspaper, and your lighted streets, and your 
 rapid transit, and your thousand household 
 conveniences, and go back to the messenger 
 boys, and the weekly newspaper, and the dark 
 streets, and the slow stage-coach, and the 
 
16 "APPETITE" 
 
 thousand inconveniences of the days of your 
 recent ancestors. 
 
 When any one says to me that he would 
 like to go back to the "good old days," I am 
 reminded of what Lincoln said when he heard 
 a piece of bad poetry — "If any one would like 
 anything like that, that would be about the 
 kind of a thing he would like." 
 
 You have set your scale of comforts high, 
 and you couldn't go back — not really. 
 
 Mr. Meredith Townsend in his "Asia and 
 Europe" tells us of a speech made by Sir 
 Auckland Colvin at Lucknow in India, in 
 which he called upon the Hindu people to 
 "want more comforts," and in which he asked 
 England to teach the Hindus to "want more 
 comforts." 
 
 Mr. Townsend admits, somewhat reluctant- 
 ly that "the standard of comfort among the 
 masses in India is almost the lowest among 
 the semi-civilized peoples of the world;" and 
 he says: "The Hindu's possessions are so few 
 that he could fly into the jungle with his whole 
 possessions at five minutes' notice, and carry 
 them all himself." 
 
 And I was thinking when I read the book 
 that there is only one way to awaken India, 
 and that is to give to her the Divine Appe- 
 tite for better things. The Missionaries of 
 the Cross will do that thing in the coming 
 
"APPETITE" 17 
 
 years. Soul Hunger will drive India on. 
 
 If you could go into the heart of Darkest 
 Africa at this moment and implant in those 
 black men your American Hunger for the 
 highest and the best, the Dark Continent 
 would awaken, cities of marble would spring 
 up there, and church bells would rock in a 
 thousand steeples. 
 
 It is Hunger, hunger for the higher things, 
 Soul Appetite, that the heathen peoples lack, 
 and when God's time comes to give all the 
 world that Hunger, all the world will be il- 
 lumined with the shining of the Great Light. 
 
 This Hunger adds to our burdens; there can 
 be no doubt of that ; but it more greatly adds 
 to our blessings. How is it the poet phrases 
 it? 
 
 "After long digging, a quick-spent treasure, 
 A long, long life, and a springtide's pleasure, 
 A year of the thorn and a day of the rose, 
 And then — all goes. 
 
 "Ah! but had never a treasure beckoned, 
 Had life by its hopes been never reckoned, 
 Had the thorns been blunted, the rose not 
 blown, 
 Who could atone? 
 
 "The treasure, gold, to the last thin coin in it, 
 The rose, pure red where the rich leaves join 
 
 it it, 
 Do they not pay — once won, once worn, 
 For labor and thorn ?" 
 
18 "APPETITE" 
 
 We ought to pray for great Appetite of 
 heart and soul and brain. There are millions 
 who have not this Appetite. How shall they 
 get it? How did you get it, my people? God 
 gave it to you. It came from above. Jesus 
 said, "Except a man be born from above he 
 cannot so much as see that there is any king- 
 dom of God." Pray thou to God for soul-hun- 
 ger. Pray for those who are not hunger- 
 driven, who have no such thing as soul-hun- 
 ger, who do not understand what you mean 
 when you talk of soul-hunger — pray thou to 
 God for thyself and for them. 
 
 Go to them and tell them that there is a 
 higher life, and that there is a better way to 
 live. Be a minister to them to impart to them 
 the Great Hunger that shall lead them onward 
 and upward. 
 
 A word from you may change a life. You 
 remember the kind old priest, and the story 
 of the Silver Candlesticks in "Les Miserables," 
 and how one kind word changed Jean Val- 
 jean from a desperate and hopeless criminal 
 to an industrious and prosperous gentleman. 
 That one kind word implanted in the broken 
 man the Hunger that drove him on. Be thou 
 a minister to some one to impart the Great 
 Hunger. 
 
 "Far beyond you," some one says, "some- 
 thing is being worked out, something wide 
 
"APPETITE" 19 
 
 and infinite, something that wholly transcends 
 your limited thought and sight." God is call- 
 ing to you through your soul-appetite. 
 
 No man here has ever found his ideal place. 
 Each of us has an ideal world in which we 
 long to dwell, an ideal sphere in which we long 
 to labor. None of us finds it here. But we 
 shall find it. This hunger for better things, 
 this feeling that is centered in all of us — I 
 think it is a foregleam of heaven. 
 
 We have never seen the best things, but 
 we are going to see them. We have never 
 sung the best songs, but we are going to 
 sing them. The Divine Hunger will drive us 
 on! 
 
 "I think the song that is sweetest 
 Is the one that is never sung; 
 It lies in the heart of the singer, 
 Too noble for mortal tongue; 
 And sometimes in the silences 
 Between the day and night 
 He fancies that its measures 
 Are lovelier than the light. 
 
 "The noblest, richest poem, 
 Lies not, in blue and gold 
 Among the treasured volumes 
 That rosewood bookshelves hold — 
 But in bright and glowing visions, 
 It comes into the poet's brain, 
 Yet when he tries to grasp it, 
 His efforts are all in vain. 
 
20 "APPETITE" 
 
 ''A lifted Hand from the distant Land 
 Beckons us here and there — 
 But when we strive to clasp it, 
 It vanishes into air. 
 It is thus our Fair Ideal 
 Floats onward, just before, 
 Yet we, with Hungering spirits 
 Reach for it evermore. " 
 
"Color-Blind People" 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 

 ... 
 
 
 ^^^m^M&mmmmmMM^^m^ 
 
' 'Color-Blind People' 1 
 
 By 
 
 Rev. William H. Fishburn, D. D. 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in West Adams Presbyterian 
 
 Church, Los Angeles, California, 
 
 January 5, 1913 
 
"Color-Blind People" 
 
 Gen. 1 :4. "And God divided the light from 
 the darkness." 
 
 Once upon a time, it was in Fairy-Tale time, 
 there were Twin Sisters. The one Sister was 
 Fair, fair as a summer morning, and the people 
 looked and admired when she went by. She 
 was clad in a robe of spun silver; about her 
 neck floated a silver scarf; her head was 
 adorned with a silver crown set with shining 
 silver stars ; and over her shoulder she car- 
 ried a glittering bag woven of silver thread. 
 
 The other Sister was Black, black as a win- 
 ter night, and the people shrank from her when 
 she came near. She was garbed in a robe of 
 ebony black; around her middle was a girdle 
 of black ; her bowed head was concealed un- 
 der a hood of black, and over her shoulder she 
 bore a huge bag of forbidding black. 
 
 And the name of the Fair Sister was Nocis, 
 and the name of the Black Sister was Lucis, 
 and together, side by side, they went on down 
 the long highway that conducts to the King's 
 House. 
 
 Now, it was so that each Girl must fill her 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 bag before the journey's end. And Lucis, the 
 Girl in Black did gather all lovely things. 
 
 She picked up great handfuls of white sun- 
 shine, and pressed them into her black bag. 
 She gathered the songs of birds, and packed 
 them in. She collected the colors, and the 
 scents of flowers, and poured them into her 
 bag. 
 
 She went back and forth along the high- 
 way to find the gladsome things — the music of 
 distant wedding-bells, the sound of child- 
 laughter that floated past, the echoes of kind 
 words, the sweet melody of human singing. 
 
 But Nocis, the Girl clad in Silver, did gather 
 up the fearsome things. She took up great 
 sheaves of shadows and thrust them into her 
 silver bag. She stopped beside the Brook 
 that flows with human sorrows, and poured 
 a measure-full of tears into her bag. She 
 gathered the moans and cries of anguished 
 men and women and crushed them in. A 
 handful of thorns went in, and a handful of 
 withered flowers. Sicknesses, and aches and 
 pains, and the long noise of murmuring misery 
 — she packed them in. 
 
 Now, it came to pass, when the evening 
 began to fall, and when both their bags were 
 full, that they betook them to the House of 
 the King. And the King saw them, and the 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 King and the King's men came out to meet 
 them. 
 
 But, when the King beheld the Sisters, lo! 
 they had changed in face and raiment. The 
 Fair face of Nocis had darkened to the hue 
 of night. Her silver-spun bag had turned 
 to inky black, and all her draperies were 
 clinging black. But the erstwhile Dark face 
 of Lucis had become Fair and radiant. Her 
 robe was no longer black, but was Glowing 
 Silver. Her black bag was braided silver, 
 luminous silver; and her black hood was trans- 
 muted into a silver crown bedecked with 
 shining silver stars. 
 
 These two sisters in my home-made Fairy- 
 Tale had "Divided the Light from the Dark- 
 ness;" and one had gathered up only the 
 Light, while the other had gathered up onh 
 the Darkness. 
 
 The spirit of Lucis, in spite of some sor- 
 row that threatened to blight her life, was filled 
 with sunshine, and her spirit had turned her 
 blackness white. The spirit of Nocis, in spite 
 of gladsome surroundings, was dark within 
 her, and her spirit had turned her silver to 
 ebony. They divided the light from the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 Our text says: "And God divided the light 
 from the darkness." So do you, sir, and so 
 do you, and you. So does everybody that 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 comes into the world. All of us "divide the 
 light from the darkness.'" Indeed we do 
 nothing else from the cradle to the grave. 
 
 But some of us so love the Light that we 
 walk in the light and gather up the light; 
 while some select the Dark for their portion, 
 and walk the whole journey in the dark. 
 
 Some hugely rich people are pitifully poor. 
 God clothes them in satin and silver, and 
 gives them the silver mesh-bag; but they fill 
 their silver-mesh bag with grievances and 
 hurts and jealousies and envies. They have 
 more grievances than griefs. 
 
 Some poor people are amazingly rich. They 
 fill their gaberlunzies with the good things, the 
 wholesome things, the heartening things. 
 
 You can see these people who divide the 
 light from the darkness on all sides of you ; 
 and other people can see whether you are 
 gathering up the light or the darkness. You 
 can see these people on the streets, in the 
 cars, in the stores, in the offices, in the work- 
 shops, in the schools, in the homes — these 
 people who are dividing the light from the 
 darkness. 
 
 From many a silver mesh-bag you can see 
 troubles and anxieties and worries peeping out. 
 Sometimes they cry out, they become vocal. 
 And from many a black bag you can see im- 
 prisoned flowers peeping out. Some persons 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 gather shadows, while others gather sun- 
 shine on the very same street in the very 
 same world. 
 
 If you are set on finding the dark side, 
 you are going to find it; if you are looking 
 for defects, you are going to discover them. 
 The hungry Optimist at the table looks at the 
 roast, and says: "How good it is;" the hun- 
 gry Pessimist looks at the same portion, and 
 says, "How small it is." 
 
 Mrs. Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler tells us 
 how she gets the good out of life without also 
 getting the bad : 
 
 "The cynics say that every rose 
 Is guarded by a thorn that grows 
 
 To spoil our posies ; 
 But I no pleasure therefore lack, 
 I keep my hands behind my back 
 
 When smelling roses. 
 
 " 'Tis proved that Sodom's apple-tarts 
 Have ashes as component parts 
 For those that steal them ; 
 My soul no dis-illusion seeks, 
 I love my apples' rosy cheeks, 
 But never peel them. 
 
 "Though outwardly a gloomy shroud, 
 The inner half of every cloud 
 Is bright and shining; 
 I therefore turn my clouds about, 
 And always wear them inside out. 
 To show the lining." 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 When our Lord Jesus lived a human life 
 in this world, He saw the shadows; but He 
 did not gather up the shadows. He gathered 
 up the Light; He rilled His hands with the 
 Sunshine; and the optimism of His Gospel is 
 the great Light that is today going around 
 the whole world to brighten the world. 
 
 In this present life the Light and Dark- 
 ness are mixed. In a real sense you cannot 
 put the darkness in one bag and the light in 
 another, and keep them separate. 
 
 Your teacher of physical science will tell 
 you that our earth never sees perfect dark- 
 ness or perfect light. They are woven to- 
 gether by God's ringers. Perfect darkness, it 
 is imagined, would paralyze the brain; per- 
 fect light would scorch the brain to a cinder. 
 Some of you who have felt the white glare of 
 the unpitying sun in the desert may con- 
 ceive what a perfect light might mean. 
 
 Our Heavenly Father has mercifully min- 
 gled the sorrows with the joys. If any of us, 
 in this life could have perfect joy it would 
 kill us; if we could have unmixed sorrow it 
 would drive us insane. God mixes some joy 
 with every sorrow, and some sorrow with 
 every joy. 
 
 I used to say to myself that the only un- 
 mixed sorrow that ever befell a Person befell 
 our Saviour when He bowed in the Garden 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 of Gethsemane; but now I am sure that even 
 that hour of darkness had within it some rays 
 of light. A great Hope came to Jesus at that 
 moment, like an angel, and comforted Him. 
 God never permits any human soul to be 
 whelmed in the billows of an unbroken dark- 
 ness. 
 
 In Heaven there is no night; but here in 
 earth the light and the darkness alternate. 
 However bright the day, the night comes. 
 We shall be able to rejoice in the candid shi- 
 ning of the next world, but we could not bear 
 it now. We require the rest that comes with 
 the darkness. We could not live all our lives 
 in the pitiless glare. There are times when 
 we pull down the blinds, when we rejoice 
 that the evening shadows are falling. And 
 so God offsets our joys with sorrows. Too 
 much joy would spoil us, like too much light. 
 
 We are to divide the light from the dark- 
 ness. We are to discover which is light and 
 which is darkness. The worst evils come to 
 us from confusing light with darkness; from 
 being unable to discriminate between them. 
 
 Everywhere we go they are mixed together. 
 The florist sells over the same counter wed- 
 ding-wreaths and funeral flowers. I saw, the 
 other day, in a bookstore, a Bible gilt-edged, 
 with black-under-gold. When closed it shone 
 with the burnished metal, but as you thumbed 
 the edges the black shone out. 
 
10 "COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 Dr. Watkinson tells of a traveler in Brazil 
 who wrote of the astonishing vegetation there, 
 of the glowing flowers of immense size ; hand- 
 some butterflies eight inches from tip of wing 
 to tip of wing, dyed in black and silver and 
 scarlet and blue and gold; of superb orchids; 
 of gigantic ferns like trees ; but told on the 
 same pages of his letter about stinging in- 
 sects that bite until the blood flows; about 
 the swamp fevers and the poisonous serpents. 
 He says, "There were glorious things and 
 ghastly things in the same landscape.'' 
 
 The light was woven in and in with the 
 darkness. There are lovely things in human 
 life, but there are noxious things too. Let us 
 make no mistake about that. Some persons 
 deny the existence of pain, and care, and bur- 
 den, and evil, and call themselves optimists. 
 They are not optimists; they are idiots. 
 
 There are both light and darkness, and they 
 are here for everybody, and everybody gets a 
 share of each. 
 
 The picture in the text is as if light and 
 darkness were two separate entities, like a 
 stratified rock where a layer of snow-white 
 marble is grown to a layer of black obsidian, 
 and God drives a wedge between, and cleaves 
 the one from the other. But that is only a 
 picture. 
 
 In real life the black melts into the white, 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 11 
 
 and the white merges into the black. There 
 is no sharp line where the one ends and the 
 other begins. 
 
 Wherever the light shines brightest, there 
 the shadows are blackest. It is the one who 
 has been most favored who feels the greatest 
 anguish when darkness falls. 
 
 Jacob, when his beloved boy was taken from 
 him, cried out in wild grief: "All these things 
 are against me." He forgot the sunlight that 
 God had poured upon him throughout a long 
 lifetime. He forgot Bethel, and Padan-Aram 
 and Peniel — "All these things are against me." 
 
 Jacob's light all went out at the coming of 
 a single sorrow. His faith in God went into 
 total eclipse. We know that all these things 
 were not against Jacob. They were his 
 blessings. They made him great. 
 
 But how many of us, my people, go off into 
 the outer darkness over the bitterness of a 
 single grief. We forget the years of joy. We 
 forget the great mercies of the good God. 
 Years of prosperity are forgotten in one hour 
 of evil. 
 
 Do you know the best use to make of the 
 dark things? Turn them into bright things. 
 The white light that is falling on this pul- 
 pit is falling there because some one, some- 
 where, is burning black coal or black oil and 
 turning it into electric-light-potentials. Coal, 
 
12 "COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 carbon, the blackest thing we know, carries 
 the most energy, the most light, of any sub- 
 stance we know — but only after the coal has 
 been put through the fire. 
 
 Accept the dark providences the Lord send? 
 you, and turn them into bright things. 
 
 I saw, in a show, two one-legged men, one 
 of them with a good right leg, the other with 
 a good left leg, and they strapped themselves 
 together, and put on an immense policeman's 
 coat, and came to the platform, and danced 
 jigs, and Highland Flings and two-steps, and 
 turned hand-springs, and exhibited high-kick- 
 ing exploits. They delighted the audience, and 
 were on the pay-roll for fifty dollars a night, 
 each. They accepted the burden God had 
 sent them, and made a blessing of it. They 
 turned darkness into light. 
 
 A friend told me of an actress who had 
 grown grotesquely fat, prodigiously, uncom- 
 fortably fat, but turned it to use by appear- 
 ing on the stage in a side-splitting comedy. 
 She turned a burden into a blessing, both for 
 herself, and for the people who enjoyed the 
 performance. 
 
 This turning the black thing into the 
 Bright thing has been done by a great multi- 
 tude of people. The blind Swiss Naturalist, 
 Francois Huber, wrote the best book on Bees 
 and their habits that ever was published be- 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 13 
 
 fore the exact observations of our modern 
 biologists began. 
 
 The blind William Hickling Prescott rilled 
 your library shelves with some of the most 
 delightful historical books that are there. 
 
 Lord Nelson, who won the Battle of Trafal- 
 gar over Napoleon Bonaparte, was, at the time 
 he won it, an Admiral, with only one eye and 
 only one arm. 
 
 George Eliot who wrote Daniel Deronda, 
 and Adam Bede, and Silas Marner, and The 
 Mill on the Floss, and so on, spent more than 
 half her days in a darkened room with para- 
 lyzing headaches. 
 
 These persons took the darkness God sent 
 them, and turned it into light. They divided 
 the light from the darkness. Mr. Herbert 
 Spencer used to tell of being guided through 
 the streets in a dense London fog by a man 
 who walked with sure and steady steps, while 
 Mr. Spencer could not see his hand before his 
 eyes; and he afterwards discovered that his 
 guide was a totally blind man to whom the 
 darkness and the light were both alike, and 
 who chose that occupation to make a living. 
 
 How many are doing it, turning the dark- 
 ness the Father sends them into light to 
 brighten other lives! How many of the poor 
 and the suffering open their lips only to give 
 praise and to speak good cheer to others. And 
 
14 "COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 if you, with your life into which few shadows 
 have fallen, you who murmur most and com- 
 plain most, if you could know of the burdens 
 that are borne by the heavy-laden and afflicted, 
 borne with a smiling face, some of you would 
 go down on your knees in the dust before 
 them, and confess that they are as high above 
 you in courage and valor as the stars are above 
 the earth. 
 
 In this same first chapter of Genesis, it is 
 written, "The evening And the morning were 
 the first day." The darkness was not the 
 day; the light was not the dav. Thp day con- 
 sisted of the evening And the morning; the 
 admixture of darkness and light. 
 
 And you, sirs, have not lived your day as 
 God means you to live it unless you havfc 
 taken your share of darkness along with your 
 share of light. 
 
 There are privileged persons who demand 
 that there shall be no shadows in their lives, 
 no hardships. They would be carried to the 
 skies on a velvet cushion. Such persons are 
 the losers. 
 
 We need to touch the rough places. We 
 need to be hustled and jostled by the sharp 
 elbows of the crowd; we need to be brought 
 into contact with other lives. We need the 
 strident noises to jar us into world-conscious- 
 ness, the honk of automobiles, the shouts of 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" IS 
 
 the procession, the roar of commerce, the 
 rattle of the electric riveter, the blast of 
 screaming police whistles, the clang of brazen 
 bells. 
 
 We need these things to startle us into 
 activity. They are not pleasant, but they are 
 necessary. They tell of ongoing, of progress. 
 
 We may run away from them, as the monks 
 of the Middle Ages ran away from the sins 
 of the world, and hid themselves in caves and 
 dens; but worse things may come to us than 
 those we have escaped from, as worse things 
 came to the runaway monks. 
 
 We may stupify our senses against the 
 darkness by draining "long goblets of the 
 Golden Wine of Cypress;" by indulging in 
 champagne suppers; by making life all gaiety 
 and high-jinks. 
 
 We may turn our darkness into apparent 
 light by drugging ourselves into exhilaration. 
 The hasheesh eater goes to sleep a beggar, 
 and in his drugged dream he sees himself the 
 master of a lustrous palace, attended by a 
 thousand slaves — but wakes, the same beggar 
 that went to sleep, only enfeebled by the po- 
 tion that gave him one night's delight. 
 
 We may run away from the crash and grind 
 of life, but if we do that we shall not have 
 lived at all. We must, if we would be real 
 men and women, accept both the darkness and 
 
16 "COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 the light. If we plan to escape, we miss every- 
 thing that goes to make up a rounded life. 
 
 I do not believe there are any useless people 
 in the world; but I am apprehensive that some 
 persons come up pretty close to the line that 
 divides usefulness from uselessness, and they 
 are now and then in danger of stumbling over 
 the line. 
 
 Old Isaac Watts, who wrote so many of our 
 Christian hymns, wrote one poem that is not 
 as well-known as it ought to be, entitled "In- 
 significant Existence :" 
 
 "There are a number of us creep 
 Into this world to eat and sleep ; 
 And know no reason why they're born 
 But only to consume the corn, 
 Devour the cattle, fowl, and fish, 
 And leave behind an empty dish. 
 
 "Then, if their tombstones, when they die, 
 Be'n't taught to flatter and to lie, 
 There's nothing truer can be said 
 Than this : They've eat up all their bread, 
 Drank up their drink, and gone to bed." 
 
 Take thy place in the ranks, O, man! Ac- 
 cept thy share of darkness along with thy 
 share of light. Bear the burden the Lord 
 gives thee, and bear it with a bright face and 
 a stout heart. 
 
 Now, there are right ways of escaping from 
 the darkness. You can do it without denying 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 17 
 
 that there is any darkness. Denying the exis- 
 tence of darkness will not emancipate you, 
 because the darkness is Here! You might 
 deny that there are any black squares on the 
 checker board; but another person standing 
 beside you might deny that there are any 
 white squares on it — and, between you, you 
 would be persuaded that there isn't any 
 checkerboard at all. 
 
 The way to escape from darkness is not 
 to try to escape from it. You can't escape, 
 if you do try. This Book does not promise that 
 the Christian believer shall have no sorrows, 
 and no burdens and no darkness. When we 
 speak of our blessed Lord Jesus we sometime? 
 call Him the Man of Sorrows. 
 
 He did not escape from sorrows, and His 
 servant James did not escape, nor Stephen, 
 nor Peter, nor Paul. They were acquainted 
 with the darkness. 
 
 The one who believes in Jesus gets just as 
 many sorrows as the unbeliever. Jesus never 
 promises that those who follow Him shall have 
 no burdens to bear. But He does promise 
 to show them how to bear their burdens, how 
 to make their burdens seem light. He teaches 
 us to take the burdens, and to turn them into 
 good for the blessing of others, and for the 
 blessing of our own selves. 
 
 "The Rich Mrs. Burgoyne," says to Joanna, 
 
18 "COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 "There's one sure cure for the blues, in this 
 world, Jo. It's safer than cocaine, and just 
 as sure. "Go and do something you don't 
 want to — for somebody else." 
 
 Take the sunshine God gives you, my people, 
 and go out and scatter it over others. Carry 
 your armfuls of sunshine into regions where 
 men and women sit in sullen gloom. 
 
 That is what our Missionaries are doing, 
 carrying sunshine to people who sit in dark- 
 ness and the shadow of death — and you can 
 be a Home Missionary by carrying the sun- 
 shine into your own street, and even into the 
 door of your own house. 
 
 Learn to divide the light from the darkness, 
 and then leave the darkness behind and carry 
 the light with you. 
 
 Fill not your memory with heartaches, and 
 calamities, and misfortunes and adversities, 
 lest your silver mesh-bag turn black ; but 
 fill your memory with the sunny things, and 
 the joys and the occasions that be of good 
 cheer, and thus go through life, and thus 
 stand at last before the King. Don't let your 
 darkness spread. Let your light spread! Let 
 your light shine ! 
 
 We must not pass hasty judgment upon 
 any of the providences of God. Everything 
 our Father sends to us, is right, and He sends 
 it just at the right time, could we but know it. 
 
"COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 19 
 
 We are Color-Blind, all of us. We fail, often- 
 times, to divide the light from the darkness. 
 Frequently we cannot tell which is light and 
 which is darkness. That which we once call- 
 ed darkness turns out to be the purest light. 
 Some seeming adversity is the very thing that 
 lifts us up. 
 
 If we could see with God's eyes there would 
 be no darkness. In God's eyes there is no 
 such thing as real darkness. There are no 
 such things as actual calamities. They seem 
 like calamities to us, because we are Color- 
 Blind. 
 
 Every life has its mixture of the colors ; the 
 reds, the yellows, the blues, the violets, the 
 indigos, the greens, the oranges. 
 
 Have you visited a physical laboratory 
 where they were showing the wonders of the 
 solar spectrum? With a triangular prism 
 they break up a beam of white light into a 
 gorgeous color-band of seven hues. They 
 then adjust seven concave mirrors along the 
 line so that each mirror shall catch one of the 
 brilliant tints. 
 
 Then these seven mirrors, one after another, 
 are focussed upon a screen. The yellow light 
 is focussed upon the blue light, and the spot 
 is a glowing green; the red is then turned to 
 the same spot, and it becomes a radiant orange. 
 
 And so, mirror after mirror sends its beam 
 
20 "COLOR-BLIND PEOPLE" 
 
 of color to the screen, and when all the seven 
 touch the spot at once, it is a spot of Light 
 so White that you put your hand before your 
 eyes. 
 
 You and I are living just now in a world 
 of broken lights. God's scheme in our lives 
 is not completed here. Wait until He takes 
 us into His Great Laboratory, by and by, and 
 gathers up all the colors that are woven into 
 our lives, and we shall see them combine in 
 a radiance that shall fill our lips with immor- 
 tal song. 
 
. 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
Did Germany 
 Murder Its Bible? 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 
 (Price Ten Cents) 
 
Did Germany Murder 
 Its Bible? 
 
 By 
 
 REV. WILLIAM H. FISHBURN, D.D. 
 
 -0O0- 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in West Adams Presbyterian 
 
 Church, Los Angeles, California, 
 
 May 26, 1918 
 
Published by order of the Session. 
 
Did Germany Murder Its J?ib!e? 
 
 Amos 8:12, They shall run to and fro 
 to seek the word of the Lord, and shall 
 not find it. 
 
 The Bible in the days of Amos was only a 
 little Bible, but it was all the Bible they had. 
 In the midst of great national prosperity the 
 people forgot God ; they forgot prayer ; they 
 forgot the House of God; they went their own 
 way in the pursuit of pleasure. 
 
 And then this prophet stood up and tried to 
 arouse them and to bring them back to God. 
 He said to them, in our lesson : 
 
 "The days are coming, saith the Lord God, 
 that I will send a famine in the land, not a 
 famine of bread, nor a thirst for water ; but of 
 hearing the words of the Lord. 
 
 "And they shall wander from sea to sea, and 
 from the north even to the east ; they shall run 
 to and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and 
 shall not find it." 
 
 People who have the Bible sometimes dis- 
 regard it. They stop reading it. They put it 
 out of their lives. They murder their own 
 faith in it. And then there comes a terrible 
 day when they want it back ; they cry for it ; 
 they grope for it ; they yearn for their old 
 faith ; but it is gone. 
 
 A speaker at one of our Pan-Presbyterian 
 Councils a number of years ago related a 
 "Persian Fable" which I remember too ob- 
 scurely to reproduce it in its full beauty ; but 
 it told of a young prince who brought to his 
 royal father a nutshell, which, opening on a 
 hinge, contained a magical tent. 
 
This f little tent was oi such miraculous con- 
 ^truouon that, when spread in the nursery, the 
 babes could play beneath its folds. 
 
 When it was set up in the throne-room the 
 King and his regal company could converse 
 under its shelter. 
 
 When opened in the courtyard, the family 
 and all the servants could come together be- 
 neath its shadow. 
 
 When spread wide open in the camp where 
 the soldiers were training, it became a vast 
 pavilion in which the whole army could as- 
 semble. 
 
 Surely this little tent may be called a sym- 
 bol of God's word. Everything is contained 
 within the nutshell of the Bible. Open it in 
 the nursery and the parents and children will 
 gather with rapture beneath its folds. 
 
 Spread it in the courtyard, and the entire 
 household may assemble for morning and 
 evening devotions under its shelter. 
 
 Set it up in the village, and it becomes a 
 church, and the whole town sings praises to 
 God under its canopy. 
 
 Pitch it upon the plain and a great army 
 will gather within it. 
 
 Send it to the heathen lands, and it opens 
 out into a great tabernacle that fills and cov- 
 ers the world. 
 
 Does our civilization owe anything to the 
 Bible? Our civilization owes everything to 
 the Bible. No Bible, no civilization! Our 
 civilization owes it to the Bible that it is de- 
 livered from superstition. The Bible is not a 
 Dream-Book. It is not a puzzle-book. It is 
 not a trick-book. It is not a book to be read 
 in the dark. Its messages are as clear as crys- 
 tal. It had no underground crypts in it. It 
 4 
 
is a book of the Open Door. When you study 
 it, study it in the light. Take it out where 
 the sunshine can smite its fair pages with 
 white light. Show it to the world; let the 
 world study it; examine it; analyze it. It can 
 bear investigation. 
 
 The Bible gives us courage ; it gives us 
 hope ; it floods our souls with its glowing radi- 
 ance. It enables us to see a light that shines 
 beyond this world and projects its luster over 
 into the world of reality on the other side of 
 the grave. 
 
 Dr. Bustard says : "If we do not believe in 
 the authority and inspiration of the Scriptures, 
 we shall be useless in Christian service." 
 
 This is the Book which can never be super- 
 seded or destroyed. Men have dissected this 
 book. They have burned it and scattered its 
 ashes upon the waters. They have trampled 
 it under the feet of their horses. And yet, 
 every book in this old volume is still crying 
 out to the critics what Paul said to the jailer: 
 "Do thyself no harm; we are all here!" 
 
 "This little Book I'd rather own 
 Than all the gold and gems 
 That e'er in monarch's coffers shone, 
 Than all their diadems. 
 
 Nay, were the sea a chrysolite, 
 
 The earth a golden ball, 
 And diamonds all the stars of night, — 
 
 This Book were worth them all." 
 
 Is it possible to murder the Bible? No! 
 Absolutely no! Should this earth endure for 
 a million years, and then for millions more, 
 as I sincerely and devoutly believe it will, the 
 Bible will be the one document that will retain 
 its youth in imperishable splendor, and will 
 
 5 
 
be the guide of the footsteps of mankind 
 through the ages of the ages! 
 
 It is not possible to murder the Bible, but 
 it is entirely possible to murder one's faith in 
 the Bible, to murder a whole nation's faith in 
 the Bible. 
 
 You, sir, — you, — you, — may murder your 
 own faith in the Bible. You may neglect it. 
 You may scorn it. You may despise it. You 
 may laugh at it. And, by and by, on some 
 lonely day when the burdens begin to break 
 you, and dear friends have gone away into the 
 Great Silence, and the skies around you are 
 growing dark, and you want to get something 
 out of the Old Book to help you and to sus- 
 tain you in the time of sore testing, you may 
 learn that that something has vanished away. 
 You have murdered your Bible by murdering 
 your own faith in your Bible. 
 
 It is written in this Book that there are 
 some things that one can do, the doing of 
 which will destroy his own soul. 
 
 We are going to ask and to answer, this 
 hour, the question : "Did Germany Murder its 
 Bible?" Also we are going to ask the ques- 
 tion : "Might it be possible for America to 
 murder its Bible?" And another question: 
 "What might happen to those who murder 
 their Bible?" And yet another question: "Will 
 there be found a way back to a forsaken and 
 neglected Bible?" 
 
 I believe that I am in agreement with the 
 majority of scholarly men when I say that it 
 was in Germany that the destructive criticism 
 of the Bible had its birth. It was in Tubingen 
 University in Germany that the first foun- 
 tain of deadly unbelief began to spurt forth its 
 jets of intellectual and moral and spiritual 
 poison. The section of Germany that consid- 
 
ers itself "learned, " drank that poison in huge 
 gulps that intoxicated its brain. But that 
 same subtle venom has been tasted by all 
 Germany and has cankered and polluted all 
 Germany, and has spread into every nation 
 and kindred and tongue and people where 
 German literature has penetrated. 
 
 Destructive criticism of the Bible may be 
 stamped : "Made in Germany." 
 
 I think it was Ferdinand Christian Baur 
 who was the real patentee of the German 
 Poison-Fountain. He was Professor of Church 
 History at the University of Tubingen. As a 
 church historian he is recognized as a man of 
 distinguished ability. He was a follower of 
 Hegel in his philosophy, and a large propor- 
 tion of the disciples of Hegel become critical 
 and distrustful of nearly everything. 
 
 This Professor Baur insisted that the dis- 
 putation between Paul and Peter as related in 
 the book of Acts was never settled, and that 
 the two men never became reconciled ; that 
 the early church was split into two factions, — 
 one faction standing with Paul and the other 
 with Peter. He denied that Paul wrote any 
 of the Epistles that bear his, name, except 
 First and Second Corinthians, Galatians, and 
 the major part of Romans. 
 
 He practically ignored in his earlier writ- 
 ings the Gospel accounts of the Death and 
 Resurrection of our Lord, though he after- 
 wards, — somewhat reluctantly, it seems to me, 
 and with mental reservations, — assented to 
 the Resurrection. He taught that the advent 
 of Jesus was the advent of Pure Reason ; that 
 Pure Reason began with the coming of Christ. 
 
 From this noxious thinker, Baur, and from 
 his co-worker in unbelief, David Friederich 
 Strauss, the poison spread like an infection. 
 
Following them came Zeller and Schwegler, 
 Koestlin and Planck, Hilgenfeld and Holsten, 
 Kuenen and Wellhausen, Gunkel and 
 Procksch, Schraeder and Spiegelberg, — men 
 whose names could hardly be mistaken for 
 Irish names, — and by their writings they 
 broke down and destroyed the faith of all Ger- 
 many in the Inspiration of the Bible and its 
 great messages. Destructive Criticism bled 
 the faith of the German people to death. 
 
 Very hurriedly, and without paying much 
 attention to their historical sequence, let me 
 name a few of the deliverances of the school 
 of unbelief: 
 
 Abraham and the other patriarchs were only 
 myths; Moses is not to be considered a his- 
 torical person. Every page of the Old Testa- 
 ment is freckled and spotted with fable. There 
 is no such thing as Sacred History. The Pen- 
 tateuch is anonymous. The historical books 
 are only a hodge-podge. There never was any 
 Adam. Paradise is a fairy-tale. There never 
 was any Fall of Man. No such monument as 
 the Tower of Babel was ever built. Human 
 speech was never stricken with confusion. 
 There never was such a person as Noah ; and 
 nobody ever built an ark ; and there never was 
 a universal Flood. The story of Joseph and 
 his Brethren is pure folk-lore. Samson is a 
 made-up hero for the children. The champion, 
 Goliath, was invented by David's admirers. 
 No nation ever wandered in the wilderness. 
 The Ten Commandments were not given on 
 Mount Sinai. The Jordan river never stopped 
 in its course since it began to flow. There is 
 no such thing as Inspiration. There never 
 were any miracles. There is no supernatural. 
 The books of the Bible are to be placed on the 
 same plane with the literary remains of the 
 pagan nations, Rome, Greece, and India. 
 
These are a few of the things that were ut- 
 tered by the be-spectacled scholars of Ger- 
 many for the murdering of the Bible, or for the 
 murdering of the faith of the people in the 
 Bible. 
 
 Professor Beyschlag of the University of 
 Halle, at a Christian conference held in Ber- 
 lin, when destructive criticism was at the peak 
 of its popularity, declared that there was not 
 to be found a solitary professor in a German 
 Institution whose orthodoxy was beyond ques- 
 tion on the subjects of Inspiration and the Per- 
 son of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Germany did murder its Bible by murdering 
 the faith of its people in the Bible, — and this 
 accounts for the inexcusable and unprovoked 
 war that Germany started and that Germany 
 is waging today against the nations of the 
 world. 
 
 Germany has flung the Christian God out of 
 its heaven and has erected a sort of cast-iron 
 devil to rule in God's stead. 
 
 Germany has taught her people that the Ger- 
 mans are supermen, destined to rule all other 
 men, and to trample all other peoples under 
 their feet. 
 
 Mr. Herman Fernau in his book, "The Com- 
 ing Democracy," defines German "kultur" as 
 being "Learning without character, knowl- 
 edge without conscience, organization without 
 humanity, ideals without dignity." 
 
 The words of Mr. Vachel Lindsay might be 
 applied to the poisoned German soldier whose 
 belief in God has been taken away from him, 
 whose faith in the Bible has been stolen from 
 him, who is only a poor automaton, slavishly 
 obedient to the commands of his brutal mili- 
 tary masters: 
 
 9 
 
"Not that they starve, but starve so dream- 
 lessly, 
 Not that they sow, but that they seldom 
 reap; 
 Not that they serve, but have no gods to 
 serve ; 
 Not that they die, but that they die like 
 sheep." 
 
 I owe you an apology, sirs, in advance, for 
 now plunging you into a bath of German liter- 
 ature; but there are certain writers so fre- 
 quently named in our speech of today that I 
 have thought it wise to make selections from 
 some of the books of Nietzsche, Treitschke, 
 and Von Bernhardi ; and then from the utter- 
 ances of some of the German pastors, in order 
 to show how far the teachers of Germany 
 have departed from the ethics of the Bible. 
 
 From Nietzsche's book, "The Antichrist," I 
 copy this: "I condemn Christianity. I bring 
 against the Christian Church the most terrible 
 accusation ever voiced. Christianity is to me 
 the greatest of all imaginable corruptions. I 
 call Christianity the one immortal blemish on 
 the human race." 
 
 From the same book: "The weak must 
 perish ! That is the first principle of our char- 
 ity. And we must help them to perish." 
 
 From his "Also Sprach Zarathustra" : "One 
 must refuse to be eaten at the time one tast- 
 eth best." 
 
 From his "Goetzendaemmerung" : "The 
 time is coming, I promise it, when the priest 
 will be regarded as the lowest type, as the 
 most mendacious, the most disreputable vari- 
 ety of human being." 
 
 A second quotation from his "Goetzendaem- 
 merung": "The man who is truly free treads 
 
 10 
 
under foot that contemptible species of secur- 
 ity dreamt of by shopkeepers, Christians, 
 cows, women, Englishmen and other demo- 
 crats. The free man is a fighter." 
 
 Nietzsche was for eleven years, from 1889 
 till 1900, a madman. He died insane in 1900, 
 — but he is read and quoted and believed in 
 by millions in Germany. 
 
 Here are some quotations from Von Bern- 
 hardt book, "Germany and the Next War:" 
 "The proud conviction forces itself upon us 
 with irresistible power, that a high, if not the 
 highest, importance for the development of 
 the human race is ascribable to the German 
 people." 
 
 On another page : "We now claim our share 
 in the dominion of the world, after we have 
 for centuries been supreme only in the realm 
 of the intellect." 
 
 Another page : "Our next war will be fought 
 for the highest interests of our country and 
 of mankind. World-power or downfall/ will 
 be our rallying cry." (Let me say here in par- 
 enthesis, that, in the war they are waging just 
 now, it is downfall that is awaiting them.) 
 
 Another quotation : "Is the weak nation to 
 have the same right as the powerful nation? 
 The very idea represents a presumptuous en- 
 croachment on the natural laws of develop- 
 ment." 
 
 One more page from Von Bernhardi : 
 "Might is the supreme right, and the dispute 
 as to what is right in war is decided by the 
 arbitrament of war. War gives a biologically 
 just decision." 
 
 Here are a few quotations from the war 
 book of Henrich Von Trietschke : "The Ger- 
 mans are always in danger of forgetting their 
 
 11 
 
power and their nationality through an ex- 
 cess of modesty. " 
 
 On another page: "We must see to it that 
 the outcome of our next successful war shall 
 be the acquisition of colonies by any possible 
 means. " 
 
 Another quotation: "This Germany of ours 
 was once the greatest of sea-powers, and, God 
 willing, she shall be so again. ,, 
 
 One more quotation : "It is not worth while 
 to speak of these matters, for God above us 
 will see to it that war shall always remain as 
 a drastic medicine for ailing humanity." 
 
 A last quotation from Von Treitschke: 
 "Merely to be able to say, 'I have never lied/ 
 — this is nothing but a monkish type of mor- 
 ality. ,, 
 
 And now, after two or three quotations 
 from the Reverend Clergy of Germany, I shall 
 let you emerge from your German bath. 
 
 It must be remembered that these words 
 following come from the clergy of the State 
 Church, who speak according to the German 
 Kaiser's will. 
 
 Here is a quotation that ought to be spoken 
 in a whisper. It is taken from a sermon by 
 Rev. H. Francke: "We can say that, as Jesus 
 was treated, so have the patient people of Ger- 
 many been treated." 
 
 From a sermon by Rev. F. X. Muench : "Is 
 not our Germany itself transformed into a suf- 
 fering Christ?" 
 
 From a sermon by Rev. Dr. Preuss: "Ger- 
 many is experiencing a repetition of the Pas- 
 sion of Christ." 
 
 Could blasphemy go farther? Has Germany 
 murdered its Bible? Has Germany murdered 
 truth? Has Germany murdered decency? 
 
 I quote from a sermon by Rev. M. Hennig: 
 12 
 
"Each soldier must do his duty so that, when 
 he shall one day answer the heavenly bugle- 
 call, he may stand forth with a good con- 
 science before his God, and his old Kaiser." 
 
 This bit of coarse sacrilege was amplified in 
 a magazine, "The Young German's Weekly," 
 to read like this : "When here on earth a bat- 
 tle is won by the German arms, and the faith- 
 ful ascend to heaven, a Potsdam lance-cor- 
 poral will call the guard to the door, and 'Old 
 Fritz/ (meaning Almighty God), springing 
 from His golden throne, will give the com- 
 mand : 'Present arms ¥ " 
 
 There you have it. "Old Fritz" on the 
 throne instead of God. A Potsdam soldier as 
 the orderly of high heaven; a guard of Prus- 
 sian soldiers to keep the door of heaven! And 
 then add to this the Hymn of Hate that is 
 sung all over Germany, and you will be ca- 
 pable of answering the question: "Did Ger- 
 many murder its Bible?" 
 
 Germany did murder its Bible. Might it 
 be possible for America to murder its Bible? 
 
 Is America reading its Bible? Is America 
 shaping its life by the Bible? Is America 
 obedient to the mandates of the Bible? 
 
 Honor bright, sir, how many hours a day do 
 you spend over your Bible? How many min- 
 utes a day? And you, — and you, — and you? 
 Do you ever miss a day? Do you ever miss 
 two days? Do you ever miss a week? Two 
 weeks? How long is it, — be honest, — how 
 long is it since you let the light shine on your 
 Bible while you read a chapter in it and then 
 got down on your knees and prayed God, for 
 Jesus' sake, to bless that chapter to the heal- 
 ing of your soul? How long is it? 
 
 Are you murdering your Bible by neglect- 
 ing it? Are you letting yourself drift, and 
 
 13 
 
drift, and drift, farther and farther away from 
 this Book that is a Fountain of Light? 
 
 Slow poison may take years to kill, but it 
 kills. In the "Count of Monte Cristo" you are 
 shown a case of slow poisoning which is as 
 surely murder as if it were done with a dag- 
 ger. 
 
 It is possible for the Bible to be murdered 
 here in America. 
 
 And what happens to those who murder the 
 Bible? The text tells you. You will get hun- 
 gry for a taste of real bread, and thirsty for a 
 draught of real water. "They shall wander 
 from sea to sea, and from the north even to 
 the east, they shall run to and fro, seeking, 
 seeking for the Word of God, and shall not 
 find it." Thus it is written here. 
 
 I wonder how many persons there are in 
 this room who are wandering; running to and 
 fro! I wonder how many persons there are in 
 this room, who, at some time in their lives, 
 have seriously called on a Moonshee, a Swami, 
 a Yogi, a Mahatma, a Guru, or the Seventh 
 Son of a Seventh Son, — persons who put the 
 opening of the veils of the future on a dread- 
 fully commercial basis ! 
 
 That is what follows the forsaking of your 
 Bible, the murdering of your Bible. You drift. 
 You wander about. The wires are down be- 
 tween you and the Father in heaven. 
 
 Maybe you have money and much of it. But 
 your money, your stocks and bonds, your 
 great houses of merchandise, your miles of 
 railway that you call your own, — these do not 
 take the place of Jesus Christ, — and you know 
 it. Your soul thirsts for God; you cry out 
 for the living God. "Give me Heaven !" They 
 want heaven to speak by wire or by wireless. 
 
 The sorest tragedy that can overtake a hu- 
 man soul is to have faith in the Bible eclipsed ! 
 14 
 
God blotted out! Christ blotted out! Hope 
 blotted out! 
 
 We spoke here last Sunday morning about 
 the reasons for the war in Europe. This pres- 
 ent war did not burst upon the world without 
 a sufficient cause. It was Germany, God-de- 
 fying Germany, Bible-murdering Germany, 
 that danced around its witches* caldron, and 
 sang the weird dirge, "Double, double toil 
 and trouble, — fire burn and caldron bubble !" 
 It was because there was no Christ love to 
 restrain them, no words of authority out of 
 the sacred Book to bridle and suppress them, 
 that blood-lust, lust for dominion, lust for 
 power possessed them, and they began a ma- 
 niacal warfare that can have but one possible 
 ending, — the crushing and humiliating and 
 dismembering of the German Empire. 
 
 Civilization will never again be safe, — and 
 civilization knows it now, — until it wrenches 
 the sword out of Germany's hand and splint- 
 ers it to pieces! 
 
 God has His high purposes in this war. He 
 means to bring back to mankind a high and 
 holy faith. 
 
 In America there are individuals who have 
 murdered their Bible; in Germany there is a 
 whole nation, Kaiser, warriors, philosophers, 
 professors, preachers, citizens, school-boys, 
 school-girls, — down to the humblest crafts- 
 man, the obscurest vassal, who have scorned 
 the Bible, who have struck the Bible in the 
 face. 
 
 God will see to it that those who want their 
 faith in the Bible to come back shall have that 
 faith again. God will see to it that the Light 
 shall break again over the many who now sit 
 in darkness and are praying for the return of 
 the Light. 
 
 15 
 
Amid the encircling gloom there is only one 
 light that is safe to follow, and that is the 
 light that shines from the Cross of our dear 
 Lord. "All the light of sacred story gathers 
 round its head sublime." 
 
 Kossuth used to say, speaking of the march 
 of intelligence : "I know that the light has 
 spread, and that even the bayonets think." 
 
 It is my own fixed belief that the devil is 
 just now taking his last horseback ride across 
 the plains of Europe. 
 
 I do not believe for one moment that the 
 consummation of the age is near or that the 
 final catastrophe is approaching. The Golden 
 Age is not past. The Golden Age is coming. 
 God the Father has uses for this fine old world 
 that is not yet half-finished, and He is not 
 going, suddenly, to burn it up or blot it out. 
 
 There is a vision fairer than any dawn that 
 is going to be thrown upon the screen to be 
 looked at by this world's tomorrow. 
 
 The war will pass and peace will come. Un- 
 belief will pass and faith will come. God's 
 Word will take its place in the van of civiliza- 
 tion, and all the nations of the world will walk 
 together in the Light of it. 
 
 We've traveled together, my Bible and I, 
 Thro' all kinds of weather, with smile or with sigh; 
 In sorrow or sunshine, in tempest or calm, 
 Thy friendship unchanging, — my Lamp and my 
 Psalm. 
 
 We've traveled together, my Bible and I, 
 
 When life has grown weary, and death, e'en, was 
 
 nigh. 
 But all thro' the darkness of mist and of wrong, 
 I've found Thee a solace, a prayer or a song. 
 
 Shall I now give Thee up, Thou Revealer of Light? 
 Thou Sword of the Spirit, put error to flight; 
 And thro' my life's journey, until my last sigh, 
 We'll travel together, my Bible and I. 
 
 Free Tract Society Print. 
 746 Crocker St., Los Angeles, Cal., U. S. A. 
 

aces 
 
 By 
 Rev. William H. Fishburn, D. D. 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in West Adams Presby- 
 terian Church, Los Angeles, California 
 May 31, 1914 
 
Many Faces in One 
 
 Ezek. 1 :S-6. "They had the likeness of a 
 man. And every one had four faces." 
 
 We are told that there is one place in the 
 Pacific Ocean where the water is 32,085 feet 
 deep — that is, more than six miles deep. 
 
 There are many places in our Bible where 
 the water is more than six miles deep — and 
 one of them is in the Book of Ezekiel. 
 
 When we open the Book of Ezekiel without 
 caution, we are likely to tumble in beyond 
 our depth. I am always afraid of drowning 
 when I study the Book of Ezekiel, because 
 many a time I have plunged headlong into it, 
 and have come out of it more dead than alive. 
 
 There are depths in Ezekiel so profound 
 that they have never been measured — but if 
 ever there shall come some student wise 
 enough and skilled enough, and with a line 
 long enough to dip his bucket to the bottom 
 of Ezekiel, his bucket will come up filled to 
 the brim and dripping with pure liquid gold. 
 
 I am not ashamed to confess fear in studying 
 Ezekiel. Better men than I have feared to 
 plunge into the unsounded depths of his mys- 
 tical Book. 
 
 There are speculative writers who profess 
 
"FACES" 
 
 to find forecasts in Ezekiel of some of the 
 great inventions that have come since his day. 
 When he spoke of moving wheels with fire 
 between the wheels, they surmise that he fore- 
 saw the Locomotive ; that the color of amber 
 fire which he saw in the midst was the flaring 
 Headlight; that his winged chariots lifted up, 
 with wheels underneath standing still, imaged 
 forth the Aeroplane ; that his revolving wheel 
 with another revolving wheel spinning in the 
 middle of it was a mental picture of the Gyro- 
 scope, and so on. But this is pure fanciful- 
 ness, and puts a severe strain on an intelligent 
 imagination. 
 
 Dr. Henry Maudsley, the physiologist, after 
 a hasty and unsympathetic study of Ezekiel, 
 did not hesitate to say that the Prophet was 
 a demented man, a man gone stark mad. But, 
 have not our clever writers said something 
 like that about every pioneer, about every dis- 
 coverer, about every exalted man who sees 
 visions or dreams dreams? 
 
 I respect Dr. Maudsley; I have high regard 
 for his excursions into the realm of mental 
 physiology, but I feel that, so far as his criti- 
 cism of Ezekiel goes, it is the criticism of a 
 man with a wooden head, and the Book of 
 Ezekiel was not written for men with wooden 
 heads. 
 
 To me Ezekiel is a man of strong mind and 
 
'FACES" 
 
 crystal brain, who sees visions that cannot be 
 written down in the inadequate language of 
 earth. When I stand in the midst of his Book 
 I shade my eyes with my hand to lessen the 
 blaze of intolerable splendor that smites me. 
 To me the fire that bursts out in terrible in- 
 candescence before Ezekiel is the glory of 
 God; the Powers that flash and fly and burn 
 are the servants of God, hastening to do God's 
 bidding; the wheels represent the omnipres- 
 ence of God; the eyes innumerable represent 
 the omniscience of God. He tells us, himself, 
 in his Book, that the heavens were opened, 
 and that he saw visions of God. 
 
 We cannot help being afraid of Ezekiel with 
 a reverent fear when he takes us into the 
 Presence Chamber of God; but we can stand 
 beside him without fear, though not without 
 wonder, when he shows us this Image of a 
 Man. 
 
 "Out of the midst (of the fire) came the 
 likeness of four living creatures — and this was 
 their appearance. They had the likeness of 
 a Man — and every one had four faces . . . 
 As for~the likeness of their faces, they four 
 had the face of a Man, and the face of a Lion 
 on the right side, and they four had the face 
 of an Ox on the left side, they four also had 
 the face of an Eagle." 
 
"FACES" 
 
 We can understand Ezekiel in some mea- 
 sure when he speaks about a Man. 
 
 "They had four faces." Four faces in one 
 face. I think it is a composite picture of a 
 man's face that Ezekiel sees; and he sees that 
 face dissolving into another resemblance as 
 he fixes his eyes upon it. It is truly a Man's 
 face as he first looks at it; but after long look- 
 ing at it the Man's face seems to melt away, 
 and he sees the courageous face of a Lion ; 
 the Lion-face fades out, and he seems to see 
 the patient face of an Ox; the Ox-face dis- 
 solves away, and he beholds the far-seeing 
 face of an Eagle. He is looking at a Man, 
 and in the Man's face he sees the combined 
 faces of the Lion, the Ox, and the Eagle. 
 There is only one human face before him, but 
 he sees many natures in that one face. 
 
 Victor Hugo says : "Ezekiel saw the quad- 
 ruple man — man, ox, lion, eagle — that is, the 
 master of thought, the master of the field, the 
 master of the desert, the master of the air." 
 It is one of Victor Hugo's fine picture sen- 
 tences. 
 
 Ezekiel sees many natures in one face — 
 and he seems to be telling us that God's ideal 
 Man is the man who combines the self-control 
 of a man with the patient strength of an ox, 
 the courage of a lion, and the vision of an 
 eagle. 
 
"FACES" 
 
 You have read some of the books on phren- 
 ology, physiognomy, palmistry, passing fads 
 which presume to tell what is in a man by 
 looking at some portion of the outside of him. 
 Nearly everybody plumes himself on being a 
 physiognomist, a reader of human faces. 
 
 There are few, perhaps none, who can really 
 read faces, because the mobile face is one of 
 the most crafty and cunning of deceivers; 
 and those who most frequently get fooled in 
 human character are the ones who imagine 
 that they can read the human Face. 
 
 The face does not always tell the truth. In 
 one of your old romances a man enters a com- 
 pany with the majestic mien and bearing of a 
 king, and the people bow before him, believ- 
 ing that he is the king — but it transpires that 
 he is a convict who has filed off his fetters and 
 has fled from a penal colony. And in another 
 of the tales of long ago there rides upon a 
 stage-coach a man with the face of an uncon- 
 querable hero, and the travellers feel secure 
 in his companionship — but he runs like a 
 frightened rabbit when highwaymen attack 
 the coach. 
 
 The face does not tell what is in the man. 
 The face is not an infallible index of character. 
 Here and there we see human faces bearing 
 the configuration of the tiger, the goat, the 
 bull-dog, the fox, the wolf, though the individ- 
 
'FACES" 
 
 ual bearing the face may not possess one 
 marked characteristic of the animal resembled. 
 We are likely to make mistakes when we look 
 only at the outside of a man to learn what is 
 in him. 
 
 It is written in this Book: "Man looketh 
 upon the outward appearance ; but the Lord 
 looketh upon the heart." 
 
 Our Lord Jesus looked past the face; He 
 looked upon the heart. Jesus once saw the 
 proud Pharisees in their blue robes and their 
 crimson girdles going past an unhappy Jew 
 who was sitting at the door of the custom- 
 house — going past him with averted faces, and 
 holding their stiff skirts away lest they should 
 be polluted by the man's touch. And our 
 Saviour went up to the man and touched him 
 — touched the despised creature, looked him 
 through and through, and saw royal man- 
 hood in him, and called him to be an Apostle. 
 Jesus saw past the outward appearance; He 
 saw the beautiful Soul of Matthew. 
 
 Jesus saw a man worth saving in the poor 
 broken tramp who came over the hills one 
 day, hungry and wretched and in rags — and 
 He spoke the sweetest words that ever fell 
 from any lips, about the saving of the Prodigal 
 Son. 
 
 Jesus once saw a woman whom self-right- 
 eous men hated and hounded and howled at 
 
"FACES" 
 
 and wanted to stone in the public street — and 
 he stepped between her and her enraged pur- 
 suers and sheltered her and rescued her and 
 saved her, and she is one of those who, today, 
 are walking in heaven clothed in white rai- 
 ment because she loved much and was much 
 forgiven. "Man looketh upon the outward 
 appearance; but the Lord looketh upon the 
 heart. 
 
 "They had the likeness of a man. And ev- 
 ery one had four faces." That is to say, ev- 
 ery one had four dispositions, four potentali- 
 ties, four different capacities, four personali- 
 ties, either of which might become dominant. 
 
 Dr. Patrick Fairbairn, quoting from Dr. 
 Lange, sees in this passage in Ezekiel the fol- 
 lowing: "Man, in his ideality, the center of 
 life which conditions all the other life-forms, 
 the highest form of animal life — Man ; the suf- 
 fering and bleeding life-form, the sacrificial 
 and bleeding animal, the Ox; the ruling life- 
 form, exhibiting itself in royal freedom, the 
 Lion; and the life-form which soars above the 
 earth, free from toil, engaged in vision, the 
 Eagle." He sees these four capacities hidden 
 in every man. 
 
 Every person born comes Into the world 
 with these four potentialities. You, sir, and 
 you, show forth at different times the qualities 
 of all the four. Sleeping in every baby's cradle 
 
10 "FACES" 
 
 are the potentialities of man, ox, lion, eagle. 
 Which shall dominate the life of the child? 
 You, sir, and you, are a quaternion of natures 
 — four natures bound indissolubly together — 
 men, ox, lion, eagle. 
 
 It is as if there were three press-buttons at 
 your elbow, and you can touch either button, 
 evoking at your will the ox, the lion or the 
 eagle as occasion may require ; or you can 
 touch at once the three buttons and command 
 the attendance of the combined three. They 
 are your servants, your obedient slaves, like 
 the Jinns in the Arabian Tales ; but woe be 
 unto you if any one of these servants shall 
 become your master, if the ox or the lion or 
 the eagle shall dethrone the Man and become 
 the ruler of the Man. 
 
 When you go about your tasks without joy, 
 in mere stupid obedience as one laboring only 
 through fear of the goad, it is the Ox that is 
 dominating; when a sudden fury of temper 
 overcomes you, clouding your mind with de- 
 sire for revenge, it is the Lion that is driving 
 you ; when you forsake the path of duty and 
 fall into long and idle dreaming, it is the Eagle 
 that is mastering you. 
 
 Ezekiel probably knew nothing about ex- 
 perimental psychology, but he was inspired of 
 God to put this touch of Evolution in his book, 
 that man is born into the world with no less 
 
"FACES" 11 
 
 than Four Natures. Modern evolution goes 
 farther and proclaims that every quality of 
 every animal is latent in man. 
 
 But, remember that every man born is born 
 a Man. Man is a free being. His circum- 
 stances do not make him. God has given to 
 him the dower of Liberty. He may become 
 a worthless vagabond by letting go of him- 
 self; or he may become a useful member of 
 society by the grace of Christ and the exer- 
 cise of his own will. 
 
 It is true, to a certain extent, that we take 
 after our ancestors, but it is also true that we 
 can choose which ancestor we shall take af- 
 ter. We have the power, as Mr. Barrett puts 
 it in one of his books, of "mending our ances- 
 tors. " Our heavenly Father has given us In- 
 dividuality. Each of us is separate from ev- 
 erybody else. If we had some bad ancestors 
 we can put them down, and take after our 
 good ancestors. Our ancestors do not make 
 us. We make ourselves. 
 
 Dr. James Devon in his "The Criminal and 
 the Community," says: "Everybody likes to 
 put the blame for his badness on his ancestors; 
 but it is more profitable to teach the man, 
 and to encourage him to do well, than to stand 
 by and praise him while he curses his grand- 
 father." 
 
 You are, yourself, sir, an accountable being 
 
12 "FACES" 
 
 before God, and whatever ancestry is back of 
 you, God will give you the power to shake off 
 the evil of it and to use the good of it. 
 
 "They had the likeness of a man. And ev- 
 ery one had four faces." This word of God 
 may be used to teach us that we are divinely 
 equipped to occupy different spheres ; that we 
 are divinely appointed to different vocations. 
 Every one has his place; and blessed is the 
 man who finds his place and fills it and re- 
 joices in it. But a great many of us are try- 
 ing to do the thing for which we are not fitted. 
 We attempt to defy nature; we essay to do 
 the things nature never meant us to do. 
 
 You can't put the wings of an eagle on an 
 ox and expect the ox to ascend and fly over 
 the mountains, any more than you can put 
 horns and hoofs on an eagle and expect the 
 eagle to eat hay out of a manger. You can't 
 put the lion in plow-harness and make him a 
 beast of draught or a beast of burden. The 
 ox is meant to fill the ox's place, the lion the 
 lion's, the eagle the eagle's. 
 
 There are almost innumerable persons out 
 of their proper places. Sydney Smith sug- 
 gested that if holes were bored in a table, 
 some of the holes round, some square, some 
 triangular — and if human beings were repre- 
 sented by pegs, some square pegs, some round 
 pegs, some triangular pegs — human life would 
 
"FACES" 13 
 
 show us that, frequently, the triangular pegs 
 got into the square holes, the round pegs into 
 the triangular holes, and the square pegs into 
 the round holes. 
 
 Blessed is the man who finds his proper 
 place in life. Many men miss their calling at 
 first, and find it only after a second or a third 
 trial. 
 
 Mr. James Whitcomb Riley believed that he 
 was meant for a sign-painter, but God meant 
 him for a poet, and we are glad that he found 
 his rightful place. 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton's mother wanted to make 
 a farmer of the man who became the mathe- 
 matician, the investigator, the discoverer. 
 Handel's father was a doctor, and he did not 
 want his son to be a doctor but a lawyer — 
 but the son was born an eagle — his place was 
 above common men, high up in the musical 
 sky, to compose Hallelujah Choruses, and to 
 fill the world with melody. Mr. A. T. Stew- 
 art was ambitious to be a preacher, and he 
 studied for it and failed ; then he tried to be a 
 teacher and failed ; then he went into business, 
 and became one of the leading merchants of 
 his time. Blessed is the man who finds his 
 place. Alas for the man who becomes one of 
 the misfits in the Great Plan. There is whole- 
 some truth as well as biting humor in some 
 
14 "FACES" 
 
 burlesque lines that I copied from Walt Mason 
 the other day: 
 
 "So many men now wield the pen 
 
 Who should be herding cattle; 
 So many shirks who should be clerks 
 
 Now make the welkin rattle. 
 So many fakes are filling dates 
 
 As Hamlet or Othello, 
 Who ought to rush and get a brush 
 
 And paint a cow-shed yellow." 
 
 "While knights and peers are auc- 
 tioneers, 
 
 And blacksmiths are musicians; 
 And gifted bards are spading yards, 
 
 And grocers are physicians." 
 
 I believe our Maker meant us to aspire, 
 meant us to fill the largest place we are ca- 
 pable of filling; but I am sure that He did not 
 mean us to contemn or to despise the lowlier 
 place, the humbler place. 
 
 When Jesus was here among men He show- 
 ed us that what we call the humble place is 
 really the high place. The Master spent thirty 
 years of His life in a workingman's home and 
 in a carpenter's shop. He said more than once, 
 "I am among you as He that serveth." One 
 of His beautiful sayings is, "Whosoever will 
 
"FACES" 15 
 
 be great among you, let him be your Servant." 
 
 "As for the likeness of their faces, they four 
 had the face of a Man and the face of a Lion 
 on the right side; and they four had the face 
 of an Ox on the left side; they four also had 
 the face of an Eagle." 
 
 Ezekiel to whom this Vision came saw the 
 Ox man at work. He speaks in his vision of 
 the River Chebar. It was not a River. It has 
 been identified, by modern excavators as a 
 Canal just east of the ancient site of Nippur, 
 and now called Kabaru. 
 
 It was a Canal, and the Ox men were dig- 
 ging it. And who were these Ox men? They 
 were Hebrew slaves who had been brought 
 from their own country. Some of them had 
 been Princes and Nobles ; they had been men 
 of soft hands, men of gentle-birth, but their 
 task-masters made Ox men of them. They 
 gave them spades and mattocks and picks and 
 sent them out to dig under the hot Babylonian 
 sky. 
 
 Ezekiel was himself a Hebrew slave, and he 
 was acquainted with these men who had been 
 turned into Ox men. He looked at them as 
 they toiled in that repulsive ditch. He saw 
 the Man's face in their face. He saw the Lion's 
 face in their face. He knew that the blood 
 of the Lion of the Tribe of Judah was racing 
 in their veins. He saw the Eagle's face in 
 
16 "FACES" 
 
 their face, the Eagle's face that sees visions, 
 the face with the power to get above the 
 earth, the type of face that composes Psalms 
 and writes Prophecies and gives the world a 
 Bible! 
 
 And these were the men that were turned 
 into Ox men by the Babylonians, these poets, 
 these musicians, these scholars — these men 
 who once had worn the purple and the fine 
 linen ! Yes, sirs, but you must not pity them. 
 Ezekiel saw the great mystery of human 
 adaptability. He saw that they possessed a 
 God-given quality that fitted them to be Ox 
 men when the moment of necessity came. 
 
 Every normal, healthy man is dowered with 
 the attributes of the Ox, is able to work hard 
 and to work submissively in case of need. 
 God made all of us for hard work. We can 
 do hard work. We are able to do hard work. 
 Our innate power to adapt ourselves to our 
 surroundings is something to be wondered at. 
 
 The position of the ox in the economy of 
 nature is not dishonorable but honorable. You 
 do not pity the ox. You admire his strength. 
 You let him pull his huge load with straining 
 shoulders and smoking withers. You praise 
 him. He is built for hard work. God so put 
 him together that he is able to do hard work. 
 
 And God meant us for hard work. You 
 must not give your pity to the strong man 
 
"FACES" 17 
 
 who toils. He is fitted for toil. The digger, 
 the delver, the lifter with the hundred arms 
 of Briareus is able to do hard work. He is 
 needed in this world. The men with the 
 strength of the ox who bore tunnels and lay 
 railway tracks and build aqueducts are needed. 
 We might spare some of the merely orna- 
 mental people, and be little the poorer, but we 
 could not spare the man with calloused palms 
 and sunburnt face — the man who toils. 
 
 And if your Lord calls you out of luxury 
 into labor, my people, if He lays heavy bur- 
 dens upon your backs, bear the burdens pa- 
 tiently as the uncomplaining ox bears his 
 burden. If your Lord calls you to laborious 
 work, if he says, "Come," be ready to follow 
 Him barefoot to the edge of the world. 
 
 Hard work is honorable work. Murillo, in 
 one of his fine pictures, gives us his concep- 
 tion of the nobility of humble labor. In the 
 picture are Angels, and they are all at work 
 in a plain kitchen. When you look at the pic- 
 ture you see one of the angels setting the ket- 
 tle over the fire; one of them is spreading the 
 table-cloth ; one of them is bringing the dishes 
 from the cupboard. They are all engaged in 
 doing the simple and humble things. 
 
 "As for the likeness of their faces, they four 
 had the face of a Man and the face of a Lion." 
 
 We do possess the patience of the Ox; but, 
 
18 "FACES" 
 
 woven into the warp and woof of our nature, 
 says this God-inspired man, we possess the 
 characteristics of a Lion. Do not forget that 
 a portion of the blood that beats through your 
 heart is Lion's blood, and that God put that 
 blood there, and that He put it there for a 
 purpose. 
 
 Our artists depicture the Lion as a creature 
 of majestic calm; as possessing courage that 
 will not flinch ; as ready to fight for his con- 
 sort and for his offspring. Dr. Livingstone 
 told us long ago that the Lion bears pain he- 
 roically ; that he cannot be cowed even by 
 deadliest pain. 
 
 Now, my people, our modern civilization 
 seems to be attempting wholly to extinguish 
 the Lion in us — not merely to restrain him, 
 not merely to put him in leash, but to abolish 
 him altogether. 
 
 Through the mail, recently, I got a circular 
 from one of the advocates of "Peace At Any 
 Price, " which requested me never, never to 
 announce such hymns as "Onward Christian 
 Soldiers/' and "Soldiers of Christ, Arise," and 
 "Am I a Soldier of the Cross," and "O, Watch 
 and Fight and Pray," and a score or two of 
 other hymns with "Soldiers" and "Fight" in 
 them, because such hymns with such words 
 had a tendency to stir up the "War-spirit." I 
 dropped the circular into my waste-basket. 
 
"FACES" 19 
 
 You see, there are docile souls who do not 
 ask us merely to restrain the Lion; they ask 
 us to exterminate him. I suspect they would 
 have us sing at every service: "We Are Thy 
 Timorous Sheep." 
 
 Now, let me say it with unmistakable em- 
 phasis — for Peace in the Name of Christ all 
 around the world I do stand with my whole 
 heart! For the End of War between nations 
 and peoples I do stand and I do pray from 
 the deepest depths of my being! Let there be 
 no misapprehension about that! 
 
 But, for the extinction of the Lion that 
 fights against wrong, against oppression, I do 
 not stand ; for the cowardly administration of 
 justice in some of our courts which has be- 
 come a joke, I do not stand; for obsequious- 
 ness and cringing to men and women who 
 openly defy the law I do not stand. God put 
 the blood of the Lion in us for a good and 
 wise purpose. 
 
 The day may come when the Hymn-book 
 shall be sterilized; but if the Bible shall ever 
 be sterilized of its swords and helmets and 
 targets and spears and shields and soldiers 
 and fightings and battlings aaginst the devil 
 and all his works, there will be little left in it 
 to thrill the blood. 
 
 In Percy's Reliques we read of a Dragon 
 which came out of a stagnant lake and de- 
 
20 "FACES" 
 
 voured maidens — one maiden being its daily 
 feast. A maiden must be chained to a stake 
 each night to furnish the Dragon's repast for 
 the coming morning. St. George came and 
 fought the Dragon, and, after much peril of 
 battle, slew it, and saved the maidens. Mr. 
 Chesterton says: "If St. George were living 
 in our day he would not conquer and kill the 
 Dragon; he would tie a pink ribbon around 
 its neck and give it a saucer of milk." 
 
 Sirs, all the steps up which civilization has 
 ascended are stained with blood, with the lion- 
 like blood of men and women who fought 
 against wickedness, who would not compro- 
 mise with wickedness — men and women who 
 endured hardship, and expected pain, and were 
 not afraid of pain. They had the blood of the 
 Lion in their veins. 
 
 St. Paul had the blood of the Lion in him all 
 his life. He was like a Lion when he fought 
 with the beast-men at Ephesus. Nearly his 
 last words were, "I have fought a good fight." 
 St. Paul did not go tip-toeing to heaven in 
 velvet slippers ; he went in much heaviness 
 and hardness to heaven, wearing the rough 
 iron shoes of a Soldier. 
 
 "They four also had the face of an Eagle." 
 All of us have flowing in our veins not only 
 the blood of the Ox and the blood of the Lion ; 
 we have, also, some drops of the blood of the 
 
'FACES" 21 
 
 Eagle. The Eagle that stirs within you is 
 the seer of Visions. 
 
 They could make an Ox of Ezekiel's body 
 on that hot Babylonian plain, but they could 
 not imprison the man's Spirit. His Spirit was 
 an Eagle that soared high above that ditch in 
 the desert, and saw visions the like of which 
 God has given to few of His children. 
 
 Our Lord has rightly put us together. He 
 has given us ' Manhood to domniate all, and 
 under the dominion of the Man He has placed 
 within us the nature of the Ox to labor or to 
 be offered as a sacrifice on the altar; of the 
 Lion to face without flinching all the conflicts 
 of life ; and of the Eagle to lift itself above all 
 storms, to swim up there in the uninterrupted 
 sunshine — to see supernal visions. 
 
 And all of that the Lord bequeaths to us 
 that we may become Men, real Men who are 
 worthy to live forever; that we may come, 
 after all the storms are ended, "unto a full- 
 grown Man, unto the measure of the stature 
 of the fulness of Christ." 
 
 Go on, brave Soul, bear thy burdens and 
 dream thy dreams! Scale the ladder of the 
 skies ; and then take the Eagle's wings and 
 leave the ladder behind, and go upward into 
 the secret places of His pavilion, upward into 
 the places of great quiet where God is. Thou 
 
22 "FACES" 
 
 canst do it. God has endowed thee with the 
 power to do it. He has given thee the Eagle's 
 wings. Use thy wings! 
 

 •;&;^M%M^I : - \ .'■ #^^lil 
 
FALLEN GATES 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 
 (Price Ten Cents) 
 
The Fallen Gates 
 of Civilization 
 
 <2^»«o- 
 
 By 
 REV. WILLIAM H. FISHBURN, D.D. 
 
 -0O0- 
 
 A Sfrmon Delivered in West Adams Presbyterian 
 
 Church, Los Angeles, California, 
 
 May 19, 1918 
 
Published by order of the Session. 
 
The Fallen Gates 
 
 Of Civilization 
 
 Nch. 2:13, "I went out by night 
 
 and viewed the walls of 
 
 Jerusalem, which were broken down, 
 
 and the gates thereof were consumed 
 
 with fire." 
 
 How the ancient Hebrew did love Jerusa- 
 lem, the Holy City ! He fell on his face in rap- 
 ture when he beheld, standing on a mountain 
 top, his temple, a vision of gold and marble, 
 reflecting the first flash of the morning sun 
 from its shining pinnacles! 
 
 "Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole 
 earth, is Mount Zion, the City of the Great 
 King/' sang the opening chorus in Solomon's 
 Temple three thousand years ago; and the 
 antiphonal chorus, led by the silver trumpets, 
 sent back the answering song: "Let Mount 
 Zion rejoice! Let the daughters of Judah be 
 glad!" 
 
 For hundreds of years, for nearly five hun- 
 dred years, the historians say, the city of Jeru- 
 salem grew great and rich, and the glorious 
 temple stood there on its hilltop saluting the 
 morning sun. Vast wealth accumulated. Tar- 
 gets of beaten gold hung massively on palace 
 walls. There were chests filled with jewels of 
 price. There were treasures of ivory. Silver 
 was as plentiful as stones in the city streets. 
 Jerusalem was a prize. It was crammed with 
 rich booty. It was tempting to the greedy 
 eyes of Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon. It 
 was a city to be looted. It was a storehouse 
 to be pillaged. 
 
And Nebuchadnezzar came upon it with his 
 strong army. He besieged it. He conquered 
 it. He fAltd his wagons with the wealth of 
 it. He beat down its twenty Gates with his 
 battering rams. He broke down its walls of 
 stone. He burnt with fire its temple, its pal- 
 aces, its mansions, its homes, its houses of 
 merchandise. 
 
 He found a city of beauty. He left it flat- 
 tened down to the ground, — a smoking ruin. 
 He put its people in chains and carried them 
 away as captives. 
 
 This Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, was 
 the Great Red Hun of thousands of years ago, 
 the pre-historic Hun, — and his soldiers were 
 the Huns of Old Testament times, murdering, 
 pillaging, looting, ravishing, burning, destroy- 
 ing, enslaving, — turning fine silk into sack- 
 cloth, turning beauty into ashes. 
 
 For fifty-two years after this fiend-man had 
 wrought his will upon it, Jerusalem remained 
 a ruin. Then a Temple was built to take the 
 place of Solomon's Temple. The Temple stood 
 in the midst of broken walls and fallen gates 
 for seventy years, and then Nehemiah came, 
 Nehemiah, the man with a vision, Nehemiah, 
 the man of dauntless courage, — and inspired 
 the people to rebuild the broken walls and to 
 lift up the fallen gates. 
 
 It was an evil day for Jerusalem when her 
 walls were broken down because the broken 
 walls made her defenseless before her enemies. 
 But there are some separating walls that 
 ought to be broken down, that ought to be 
 removed forever, and that must inevitably be 
 removed before our civilization can become 
 truly, "A Parliament of Man, a Federation of 
 the World." 
 
 We of the United States can never again 
 
think of ourselves as a walled-in people, as a 
 separate people living here in our own quiet 
 corner of the earth and looking out for no- 
 body but ourselves. 
 
 The walls between the great Republics, 
 America, France, England, Belgium, Italy, 
 China have gone to pieces and the nations 
 that believe in "governments of the people, by 
 the people and for the people" are beginning 
 to see each other eye to eye and face to face 
 as a great Brotherhood. 
 
 It will be a good thing when the wall be- 
 tween labor and capital shall be broken down 
 to be built up never again. 
 
 It will be a good thing when the wall be- 
 tween religious sects which, down in the bot- 
 tom of their hearts, believe in the same God, 
 in the same Holy Spirit, in the same Christ, 
 shall be broken down, shall be ground into 
 fine dust, shall be blown away by God's great 
 purifying winds — and every believer in our 
 Lord shall be to every other believer in our 
 Lord Jesus as a brother unto brother. 
 
 The walls that separate believer from be- 
 liever are becoming so thin and transparent 
 that bye and bye a child will be able to over- 
 throw them with its little hand. These walls 
 are not defenses but menaces. They hinder 
 more than they help. 
 
 But the walls about Jerusalem were neces- 
 sary. They were a defense. They prevented 
 the wolves from devouring the sheep. And it 
 was a good day for Jerusalem when Nehemiah 
 came and awakened the people to rebuild the 
 walls and to set up the fallen gates. 
 
 There is no doubt that when Nebuchadnez- 
 zar came down upon Jerusalem with his hosts 
 of armed men, the citizens asked, "Why does 
 God permit this? If God is God why is our 
 
repose disturbed? Why is our pleasant dream 
 shattered? Why doesn't God interfere?" 
 
 They asked those questions just as tens of 
 hundreds of people are asking today: "Why 
 doesn't God stop the war?" "Why does He 
 permit these monstrous wrongs to go on?" 
 "Is there any reason for this war?" "Is there 
 any God at all?" "Did it just happen?" 
 
 Now, sirs, if you are in any doubt about the 
 existence of God, you'd better get that doubt 
 out of your mind ; and if you think this war 
 came upon our world without any reason, 
 you'd better get that thought out of your 
 mind. 
 
 God is looking on at this war and sorrow- 
 ing. And there is a reason for it, a sufficient 
 reason for it. 
 
 When you get home, read the second chap- 
 ter of Jeremiah if you want to know the rea- 
 son why Jerusalem was pillaged, her temple 
 destroyed, her walls torn down, her gates 
 broken, her people enslaved. Here are the 
 twelfth and thirteenth verses of the chapter, — 
 "Be ye astonished, O ye heavens, at this, and be 
 ye horribly afraid, be ye very desolate, saith 
 the Lord. For my people have committed 
 two evils ; they have forsaken me, the fountain 
 of living waters; and they have hewn them 
 out cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold 
 no water." 
 
 And verse 19 reads: "Thine own wicked- 
 ness shall correct thee, and thine own sins 
 shall rebuke thee." 
 
 Read the chapter at home and think about 
 it, and you will be sure, jut as I am sure, that 
 it is not God who is smiting us with a scourge, 
 but that our own sins, our own remissnesses, 
 national sins and personal sins, are smiting us 
 in this war with a whiplash that draws blood. 
 
Don't you imagine for a moment thajt^this 
 war is an accident. Doh't >yda imagine fbr a 
 moment that God has forgotten us., God is 
 pitying us. God is trym£4oxo;mpel us to set 
 up again in their places the Gates that are 
 broken down, the Fallen Gates of Civilization. 
 Don't you imagine for a moment that God is 
 going to let the world go on to destruction. 
 This war is designed to save it from destruc- 
 tion, to save it from destroying itself, to turn 
 it back from the slippery incline down which 
 it has been rushing at a great speed for many 
 a year. 
 
 Do you believe that men can go on age after 
 age and defiantly break the good and holy 
 laws that are written in this dear Book and 
 never be called before the bar of jutice and 
 never be made to pay the penalty? 
 
 Do you believe that our own America that 
 men are dying for, and that you would be 
 willing to die for and I would be willing to 
 die for,— do you believe that our America is 
 able to lift up clean white hands, and that it 
 would be found guiltless before God? Is there 
 no sin in America that needs to be scourged 
 out of America? Are not there some Fallen 
 Gates in America that need to be lifted up and 
 repaired ? 
 
 Has not the Gate of Reverence fallen in 
 America, reverence for God's Name, reverence 
 for God's Book, reverence for God's command- 
 ments, reverence for God's house, reverence 
 for God's Day? 
 
 Has not the Gate of Justice fallen down? 
 Is not Justice flaunted in her own temples? 
 Does not a slobbering, maudlin sympathy set 
 free bad men and bad women as if there were 
 no laws written in our statute books? 
 
 Has not the Gate of the Family Altar 
 
 7 
 
Fallen? Who. is - linking about Family 
 Prayer? Who feels nowadays that Family 
 Prayer is the biggest, sweetest thing in family 
 lite.? 
 
 Are not there liberal religions, so-called, 
 that have pushed away the old Cross with its 
 Gospel of blood and suffering and pain, that 
 have put the mania-to-be-well in place of the 
 Cross of Jesus, and that would be ready to 
 blast the Rock of Ages from its everlasting 
 foundations and crumble it to powder? 
 
 Listen, sirs, to the audible speech of men 
 and women in the open marketplaces if you 
 would know whether sacred things are held 
 in veneration ; whether there is a real fear of 
 God before the eyes of a multitude of man- 
 kind ; whether decency is regarded ; whether 
 old age is respected ; whether God's name is 
 reverenced ! 
 
 We have erred and strayed from God's ways 
 like lost sheep and we need to be brought 
 back. God loves us and He is going to bring 
 us back. 
 
 The life we are living here was never meant 
 to be smooth and easy. It is meant to forge 
 character on the anvil of hardship, sometimes 
 on the anvil of burning pain. 
 
 Let us confess it, my people, we have tried 
 to get away from discipline. We have tried 
 to thrust God and religion out of our lives 
 and to let go of ourselves and have our own 
 way. We have grown effeminate. We desire 
 softness. We wish for pampering and cosset- 
 ting and indulging and petting. We have 
 lapsed into softness. So did the people of the 
 Great Monarchies. So did they of Greece. So 
 did they of Rome. And those nations were 
 blotted out of the books. 
 
 We need to learn hardness, discipline, obe- 
 
dience. Professor William Lyon Phelps has a 
 fine essay on "Courtesy" in which he says, 
 "Military training teaches obedience, a quality 
 that our youth sorely need to acquire ; we need 
 to learn politeness. No other nation has neg- 
 lected politeness as we have done." 
 
 I want to say something about military 
 training as a means whereby we may learn 
 politeness and obedience; whereby we may 
 get rid of our flabbiness, spiritual flabbiness, 
 mental flabbiness, physical flabbiness; where- 
 by we may learn to endure hardness, to take 
 our punishment standing up, to be strong- 
 hearted, to be unafraid. 
 
 The school of war has its value as a maker 
 of Christian manhood. It is not only a maker 
 of soldiers for our armies. When you look at 
 what war-training has already done for our 
 young men, you cannot help giving praise to 
 war-training. War-training lifts up stooped 
 shoulders, pushes out a flattened chest, gives 
 a spring to the step and a look of unquailing 
 manliness to the eye. 
 
 Unless we are ready to let our civilization 
 go headlong into bankruptcy, we must have 
 military training. Personally I believe in uni- 
 versal military training. If we had adopted 
 universal military training three and one-half 
 years ago we could put an arm across the 
 seas today and take Prussia by the throat and 
 strangle her to death. Those who say: "I 
 didn't raise my boy to be a soldier" ought to 
 be asked, "What did you raise him to be ? Did 
 you raise him to be a mollycoddle?" 
 
 I believe every boy ought to be taught the 
 manly art of self-defense. I believe every boy 
 ought to learn at what point the trigger is 
 placed on a rifle, how to take aim at a mark 
 and how to hit the mark he aims at. 
 
There is a line Biblical authority for mili- 
 tary training. There was good red blood in 
 the veins of King David when he wrote that 
 battle-song in the 144th Psalm: ''Blessed be 
 the Lord my strength, which teacheth my 
 hands to war and my fingers to fight." The 
 Scottish Presbyterians have made a church 
 hymn of that Psalm and they sing it with en- 
 thusiasm, and that may account for the grim 
 steadiness of the Scottish soldiers aim and 
 the splendid virility of his onslaught. 
 
 In our lesson the fallen walls were rebuilt 
 and the gates were lifted up and put back on 
 their hinges. The walls of our civilization are 
 broken and many of the Gates of our civiliza- 
 tion are fallen, but every broken wall is going 
 to be rebuilt and every fallen Gate is going to 
 be restored to its place. Our soldiers who are 
 gone to Europe and who are going to Europe 
 are going as builders. They are going to 
 build up the broken walls and to lift up the 
 fallen gates. 
 
 Is everybody in America standing back of 
 our soldiers? Is everybody in America doing 
 everything to cheer our soldiers? Is every- 
 body in America doing everything within his 
 power and her power to win the war and to 
 destroy the Hun? 
 
 On the contrary there are many who, openly 
 or secretly, are doing their utmost to hinder 
 the winning of the war and the destroying of 
 the Hun. 
 
 Nehemiah in our lesson paid small attention 
 to the hinderers outside the walls, but he gave 
 some attention to the hinderers on the inside. 
 He had his hinderers and also he had his way 
 of hindering them from hindering. You must 
 read between the lines to know what Nehe- 
 miah did with the hinderer. The hinderer 
 
 10 
 
never hindered anybody else after Nehemiah 
 gave him one treatment. 
 
 Amongst the hinderers who would paralyze 
 the President's hands if they could, who 
 would make this war a colossal failure if they 
 could, who would put the iron yoke of Prussia 
 on your neck and mine if they could, I would 
 name an array of evil and disloyal persons, — 
 alien enemies, profiteers, alien grumblers, I. 
 W. W/s, slackers, spies, pacifists, cowards, 
 brewers, saloons, bootleggers, those human 
 coyotes who corrupt the soldier; and along 
 with them I would mention agitators who 
 make inflammatory and malicious speeches, 
 newspapers that think evil and disloyalty in 
 their hearts and print carefully camouflaged 
 evil and disloyalty in their editorial lines, and 
 that ought to be suppressed and suppressed 
 without delay. 
 
 Our national government has been patient, 
 miraculously patient with these hinderers. 
 They would not be permitted in Hunland. Let 
 anyone in Germany obstruct, and that one will 
 speedily find himself shut up in jail or stand- 
 ing with his back against a stone wall. The 
 Atchison Globe says, "In Germany there are 
 practically no spies. Why? Because they 
 shoot them; and it doesn't make any differ- 
 ence whether they wear trousers or petti- 
 coats." 
 
 There are other hinderers, — persons who im- 
 agine that they are optimists, who will tell 
 you they are certain the war will be over by 
 the 15th of next month; pessimists, who break 
 your heart with mournful wailing about the 
 power of the Hun and the total impossibility 
 of beating him. They worry and worry and 
 worry. One of them was found the other day 
 after a splendid Allied victory with his head 
 
 11 
 
bent down, worrying. His companion asked 
 him what he was worrying out and he replied : 
 "I'm worrying about what I'm going to be 
 able to worry about after the war is over and 
 there's nothing left to worry about/' 
 
 There is another group of hinderers that it 
 would not be fair nor right to leave unmen- 
 tioned, and they are to be found amongst our 
 United States Senators and Congressmen who 
 let things go all to sixes and sevens until some 
 calamity is impending, and then make frothy 
 speeches and offer fatuous resolutions, and 
 beg excitedly for the opening of a series of 
 "investigations" to find out why things hap- 
 pened just the way they happened. 
 
 I suppose you will admit that our present 
 Congress is not composed entirely of strong 
 and great men. There are few of them who 
 would be worth painting by an artist, though 
 I imagine a number of them might be the bet- 
 ter for a little white-washing. 
 
 Thinking of and speaking of the hindered is 
 not a pleasant task, but thinking of and speak- 
 ing of the Helper is a pleasant task, and 
 thanks be to God, in the setting up of the 
 Fallen Gates the Helpers are far, far in the 
 majority. There are thousands upon thou- 
 sands, there are millions upon millions, who 
 are willing Helpers. They are to be found in 
 every section of society. 
 
 In our lesson of today it is written, "The 
 nobles put not their necks to the work of the 
 Lord." Our nobles today have put their necks 
 in the yoke of military service. This is not 
 a rich man's war; it is not a poor man's war. 
 
 Both the rich and the poor of America, both 
 the rich and the poor of the Allied Powers are 
 in it, and in it up to the neck. 
 
 The very flower of England's men went to 
 
 12 
 
France the first year of the war, and the vast 
 majority of them are there now, sleeping un- 
 der the sod, between the Channel and the 
 Vosges. "More than a million of Frenchmen 
 and Englishmen," says Mr. James M. Beck, 
 "are sleeping their last sleep in the now for- 
 ever sacred soil of France." 
 
 Everyone ought to feel the hurt of this war. 
 Some of us are shut out of actual participation 
 in it by infirmity, by age, — but all of us may 
 be helpers. There are some who are shut out of 
 actual participation by cowardice. But there 
 are some cowards who know they are cow- 
 ards and who pray God to give them courage. 
 We were told quite recently of a young man 
 in Pennsylvania who had straw-colored hair, 
 and who requested the prayers of the pastor 
 and people, in order that he might become red- 
 headed. 'He had heard that red-heads were 
 brave fighters and he was praying the Lord 
 to give him red hair so that he might go forth 
 and fight the Kaiser. He wanted to be a 
 helper. 
 
 We are living, sirs, in the time of testing, 
 the times that try what sort of stuff we are 
 made of. We are passing through the period 
 of blood and iron. Talk will not win the war ; 
 sermons will not win the war; but money will 
 greatly contribute to the winning of the war. 
 We have been asked for money. We are go- 
 ing to be asked for more money, and then af- 
 ter that for more money, and as long as our 
 dear boys are "over there" we are going to 
 be asked to give money. 
 
 The "Boy Scouts" are helping by button- 
 holing us to buy War Saving Stamps. At the 
 Malabar Street School, last week, the chil- 
 dren went out, 250 strong, and paraded 
 13 
 
through their school district, and sang war- 
 time songs like this: 
 
 "Sing a song of war-time, a country full of 
 
 camps ; 
 Fifty million patriots buying Saving Stamps. 
 See the pennies flowing in a golden stream 
 To keep the soldiers going and to smash the 
 
 Kaiser's dream." 
 
 A man over age cannot be drafted to lick 
 the Kaiser, but he can lick a Thrift Stamp, 
 which is along the same line. The Dallas 
 News says, "A patch on your trousers may be 
 regarded as a thrift stamp." 
 
 Tomorrow will start the week of the Red 
 Cross Drive for one hundred millions of 
 money. Our lesson tells us that the women 
 helped in the work of lifting up the Fallen 
 Gates. "Shallum, the ruler of the half part of 
 Jerusalem, repaired his portion, he and his 
 daughters. 
 
 These blessed women, who are working in 
 the Red Cross and for the Red Cross are real 
 women. They do not belong to the clinging 
 vine, coddling, sick-minded class of women. 
 They are clear-headed, forward-looking, bal- 
 anced-minded women, — women who are not 
 afraid of danger or of death. 
 
 The first ladies of the land, together with 
 the second ladies of the land and all the other 
 ladies of the land are serving, — are knitting, 
 sewing, rolling bandages, making garments, 
 nursing the wounded and the sick, — are doing 
 their bit towards forwarding the work of the 
 Red Cross. Titled English women are driv- 
 ing plows and harrows; are acting as chauf- 
 feurs. It was told in one of our public prints 
 that Lord Hargraves jumped into a motor-car 
 in London and said to the woman chauffeur, 
 
 14 
 
"Drive me to Dorchester House." The chauf- 
 feur said, "All right. Get in." Lord Har- 
 graves said: "I'm accustomed to being ad- 
 dressed as 'My Lord.' " "All right," replied 
 the driver, "you get in. I am accustomed to 
 being addressed as 'My Lady.' " She was his 
 social equal. 
 
 The Red Cross will get its one hundred mil- 
 lions, Los Angeles will raise its apportionment 
 of three-quarters of a million. No one with 
 a heart will turn away this appeal of the 
 noblest work in the world. 
 
 A letter came to me from Mr. George S. 
 Fowler, the Executive Secretary of the Red 
 Cross, with these words: "It would require 
 volumes to tell you all that the Red Cross has 
 accomplished, — the lives saved, the suffering- 
 assuaged, the starving fed, the homeless shel- 
 tered, the heart-broken comforted." 
 
 Let me impress it upon you today that the 
 suffering peoples of Europe are looking to 
 America for relief. They have a right to turn 
 their pain-stricken faces towards us. They 
 have a vast claim on America, — the claim of 
 having fought America's battles with the Hun. 
 and having protected America from the rav- 
 ages of the Hun for nearly three years. 
 
 One of the pamphlets sent out calls the Red 
 Cross "The Army behind the Army," and as- 
 sures us that so great is the work and the de- 
 mands made upon them that "Our giving must 
 shake us to the very foundations." "We must 
 give more than we are able." "You have 
 bought Liberty Bonds," says the pamphlet, 
 "and War Saving Stamps, and have already 
 contributed all you can spare to the Red 
 Cross, but you must give, give, give, — give 
 more and more, because if you're not suffer- 
 
 15 
 
ing, you're not giving." "Don't think of your 
 giving as a sacrifice. Think of it as a privi- 
 lege." "When you give you are fighting as 
 surely as if you had a gun in your hand. This 
 is not benevolence, it is War. Your act is 
 Valor." 
 
 The Red Cross is helping millions. "It is 
 gathering in the poor little children, wasted 
 waifs of the war-swept area." "It is main- 
 taining the Red Cross Canteen, that Hail Fel- 
 low of a saddened world." 
 
 Do thy share ! Do thy share ! Give as thou 
 art able to give. You will be helping in lift- 
 ing up the Fallen Gates of our Civilization. 
 You will be helping to bring the war to a tri- 
 umphant close. 
 
 "Over the din of battle, over the cannon's 
 
 rattle, 
 Over the strident voices of men and their 
 
 dying groans, 
 I hear the falling of Thrones." 
 
 "Out of the wild disorder that spreads from 
 border to border, 
 
 1 see a new world rising from ashes of an- 
 cient towns; 
 
 And the Rulers wear no crowns." 
 
 Free Tract Society Print, 
 74* Crocker St., L©s Angeles, Cal., U. S. A. 
 
Immigrants 
 
 and ) 
 
 Emigrants 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 
 RN 
 
1 
 
RN 
 
 
 
Immigrants 
 
 and Emigrants 
 
 Rev. William H. Fishburn, D. D. 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in West 
 
 Adams Presbyterian Church, 
 
 Los Angeles, California 
 
 November 30, 1913 
 
 I 
 
 RN 
 
Published by order of the Church Extension 
 
 Board of the Presbytery of Los Angeles, 
 
 April, 1914 
 
Immigrants 
 
 and Emigrants 
 
 Jer. 22:10. "Weep s£*rc' fdi: liim *hat 
 goeth away; for he sh&li return v;no 
 more, nor see his native country." 
 
 "Weep sore for him that goeth 
 away," There they go! There they 
 go! Oh, the long procession of old 
 friends marching outward from the 
 Homeland; and they will never come 
 back. 
 
 Thus Jeremiah speaks of those who 
 emigrated from Jerusalem to far away 
 lands two thousand four hundred 
 years ago, and never came back. ' 
 
 I shall not even try to disguise the 
 discourse of this morning as a sermon. 
 It is not to be a sermon on a text; it 
 is to be a Home Missionary Address 
 on Immigration and Emigration. 
 
 There is a difference between mi- 
 grating and emigrating and immigra- 
 ting. He who migrates merely moves 
 from one house into another; he who 
 emigrates leaves his native land for 
 another ; he who immigrates comes 
 into a new land. The alien who leaves 
 Furope or Asia for America is an Emi- 
 grant when he starts on his long voy- 
 
 ' — 
 
 5 
 
 RN 
 
age; he is an Immigrant when his feet 
 touch our shores. 
 
 We people of America count the Im- 
 migrants; bu: the peoples of Europe 
 and Asia count the Emigrants, and 
 count them with sobs of sorrow. They 
 "weep sore for him that goeth away, 
 because he >h?il return no more, nor 
 si r his native country/' 
 
 To us an Immigrant is only an Im- 
 migrant ; he is a living, muscular ma- 
 chine, a machine weighing some one 
 hundred and fifty pounds, a machine .to 
 delve in the mines, to dig in the streets, 
 to labor in the shops and the mills, — 
 he is one hundred and fifty pounds of 
 muscle. 
 
 But to those peoples on the other 
 side of the seas he is a human soul, he 
 is a man, he is a being strung with 
 sensitive nerves; he has a brain that 
 thinks and a heart that feels. 
 
 I saw a great ocean liner laden with 
 Immigrants arriving in New York 
 City. There were hundreds and hun- 
 dreds of them on that one ship, and, as 
 the vessel came into port, I could hear 
 the cheering of the Immigrants above 
 the strident noises of the harbor. Many 
 of them were waving their hands for 
 joy. Many were laughing. Some were 
 singing. Some were dancing to the 
 music of an orchestra. Their faces 
 were Foreign faces, but they were 
 good, whoiesome faces. And while 
 
 ■ 
 
some were skipping for merriment, 
 others were weeping; others sat alone, 
 bowed, silent. All of them were 
 strangers coming to a strange land. 
 What were they going to find in this 
 new country whose language they did 
 not know, and whose manners were, 
 to them, a mystery? 
 
 I looked at that huge throng, I 
 looked until my eyes got misty, — but 
 those people did not seem to me like 
 Immigrants. They seemed to me like 
 men and women and children, — brave, 
 courageous souls who had fared forth 
 from far-away homes on the Great Ad- 
 venture. 
 
 And then my vision was augmented 
 so that I could see across the Atlantic 
 and hundreds of miles beyond, and I 
 saw aged fathers and mothers who had 
 been left behind, and who were "weep- 
 ing sore for those who had gone away, 
 who should return no more, nor see 
 again their native country. " 
 
 The biggest problem that confronts 
 America at this moment is not the tar- 
 iff, nor the currency bill, nor the repeal 
 of Panama Canal tolls exemption, nor 
 the pillow-fight that is going on in Old 
 Mexico. There is a question that over- 
 shadows these questions, and it is this: 
 "What are we going to do with the 
 Immigrant, and what is the Immi- 
 grant going to do with us?" 
 
 We of Los Angeles are optimists. 
 
 RN 
 
None but optimists live in Los An- 
 geles. The bluest pessimist who can 
 get into a passenger train back East 
 turns into an optimist when he inhales 
 the scent of our California Mowers, 
 and refreshes his palate with our Cali- 
 fornia fruits, and fills his lungs with 
 the ozone in the California atmosphere 
 that tingles in the blood like a draught 
 of nectar. The very wind that blows 
 in California is Medicine Wind. 
 
 And, being optimists, we see the 
 bright side of everything. We tell 
 everybody about our Good Roads, 
 about our Good Owens River Water 
 that will soon be carried to our lips 
 in crystal goblets ; about our new 
 Southern Pacific Station that is, pre- 
 sumably, going to be more gorgeous 
 than anything Solomon ever saw in all 
 his glory. 
 
 We are dreamers, and we dream 
 good dreams for which God be praised ! 
 What dreams we have just now con- 
 cerning 1915 and the opening of the 
 Panama Canal and the World's Fair 
 that is going to bring hundreds of 
 thousands of visitors to walk our 
 streets and to be stricken with incur- 
 able Los-Angelitis, so that they shall 
 settle down here for the remainder of 
 their lives. 
 
 A Ve are waiting for the Panama Ca- 
 nal to open with salvos of artillery, 
 and sweet strains of martial music, and 
 
the blowing of loud trumpets, and the 
 acclaim of many voices. There will be 
 parades of feathers and uniforms and 
 gold braid. There will be processions 
 of battleships and of merchant ships. 
 All of that will be. It must be, be- 
 cause our local prophets have set it 
 down that Los Angeles shall have a 
 population of one million in 1920. 
 
 But, sirs, we have not given much 
 attention to the procession of another 
 kind that is going to follow in the 
 wake of this splendid Canal-Opening 
 procession. Behind the battleships and 
 the merchant ships there will come the 
 procession of the Immigrant ships, — a 
 procession that is going to be of incal- 
 culable length, and that is going to 
 unload its burden of Immigrants in the 
 Harbor of Los Angeles. 
 
 We shall have our million in 1920, — 
 I have not the least doubt about that, 
 — but not all of them will be persons 
 whom we should invite to dine and sup 
 with us. 
 
 Los Angeles is not a timid city; it is 
 not a city that modestly hides its light 
 under a bushel. Southern California is 
 a country that cannot be hid. Our 
 fame is gone out into all the earth, 
 and our praise to the ends of the 
 world. The peoples of Montenegro 
 and Servia and Bulgaria, of Italy and 
 Austria and Hungary, of Finland and 
 Poland and Russia, of Turkey and 
 
 
 RN 
 
Syria and East India have heard of our 
 "Land of Heart's Desire," and, whether 
 we welcome them warmly or not, they 
 are going to come, — and we are going 
 to look in the black faces and the brown 
 faces and the wind-reddened faces of 
 Asia and Europe, right here in the 
 streets of our beautiful city ! 
 
 Do you know what it means, sirs? 
 Have you looked into the future and 
 tried to spell out what it means? Have 
 you looked into the question at all ? 
 The women of the Missionary So- 
 ciety have been studying at least the 
 edges of this problem, and they are 
 able to surmise in a measure what it 
 means. They can tell you of some of 
 the good things and of some of the 
 direful things that, in God's wise pur- 
 poses, are in store for Los Angeles 
 and for Southern California. 
 
 Since the beginning of American his- 
 tory there has been but one great por- 
 tal through which the Immigrant has 
 entered our country — that great portal 
 has been New York City. If you are 
 a careful reader you know something 
 about what the Immigrant has done 
 for New York City and what New 
 York City has done for the Immigrant. 
 
 Today there are more native Irish 
 living in New York City than are liv- 
 ing in any city in Ireland ; there are 
 more native Germans living in New 
 York City than are living in any city 
 
in Germany, except Berlin; there are 
 more native Italians living in New 
 York City than in any city in Italy ex- 
 cept Naples. Sixty-five foreign lan- 
 guages are spoken in that city's 
 streets ; five thousand newsboys sell 
 newspapers, crying them in foreign 
 tongues. In New York City, with its 
 suburban cities, there are seven mil- 
 lions of people. 
 
 And now a New Gateway into Amer- 
 ica will be opened with the opening of 
 the Panama Canal, and the stream of 
 Immigration may be diverted from 
 New York City. Immigrants may 
 come pouring by thousands and ten 
 thousands and hundreds of thousands 
 into Southern California. 
 
 Are we ready for them ? Are our 
 Churches ready for them ? Is the Gos- 
 pel of Jesus Christ in our hearts and 
 on our lips to salute them? Are we 
 even giving them a thought? 
 
 We are told that there are a million 
 persons in New York City who have 
 turned their backs upon the churches 
 and upon the Lord Christ because the 
 Churches have run away, have moved 
 into exclusive and fashionable centers 
 in order to escape from the polluting 
 touch of the Immigrant. 
 
 I wish you could keep it in mind 
 that we shall not only have one mil- 
 lion of population in Los Angeles, and 
 then stop. We shall some day have 
 
 L 
 
 RN 
 

 two millions, and live millions, — and 
 who shall say how many millions 
 more, — and millions of these coming 
 citizens of Los Angeles and this South- 
 land are going to be Immigrants. 
 
 Is not the problem of the Immigrant 
 a problem worth studying? Is not it a 
 problem that appeals to every one who 
 loves Him who hath made of one blood 
 all races of men? 
 
 How full of thanks is the Immigrant 
 upon arriving on our shores! He re- 
 joices. He is in America! The world 
 is open to him. He is full of great 
 hopes. He dreams big dreams. He is 
 in America! Are we glad to have 
 him? 
 
 Whether we are glad or not, he is 
 coming. Dr. Frank Julian Warne in 
 his book. "The Immigrant Invasion," 
 tells us of the enormous inflow during 
 the past ten years. He does not put it 
 into dry figures ; he makes a picture 
 of it that we can see. He states that 
 during the past ten years, "for every 
 time the clock struck the hour, day 
 and night, one hundred persons born 
 in some foreign country, not including 
 Canada and Mexico, landed on the 
 shores of the United States." 
 
 I have been recently doing some fig- 
 uring at a hazard. During the eleven 
 months of the year, 1913, there have 
 come to the United States upwards of 
 one million Immigrants. The total for 
 
1913 will be nearly one million and two 
 hundred thousand. How many will 
 arrive between 1915, when the Panama 
 Canal opens, and 1920, — a period of 
 five years? 
 
 During the five years, from 1907 to 
 1912, there arrived in the United States 
 4.292,895. Only suppose that this New 
 Gateway lures one-fourth of the Immi- 
 grants, there will arrive on the Pacific 
 Coast between 1915 and 1920, 1,073,246 
 persons. Even if you divide that total 
 in half, the number that will arrive 
 here is appalling. Are we ready for 
 them? Are our Churches ready for 
 them? We are going to get new citi- 
 zens, but God is not going to let us 
 pick them. He is going to pour them 
 unon us as a mixed mass. 
 
 1 ' They come, they come, one treads the other 's 
 heel, 
 And some we laugh, and some we weep to 
 see, 
 And some we fear; but in the throng we feel 
 The mighty throb of our own destiny. 
 
 1 ' Outstretched their hands to take whate 'er 
 we give, 
 Honor, dishonor, daily bread, or bane; 
 Not their 's to choose how we may bid them 
 live — 
 But what we give we shall receive again. 
 
 " America! Charge not thy fate to these; 
 
 The power is ours to mould them or to mar. 
 But Freedom's voice, far down the centuries, 
 
 Shall sound our choice from blazing star to 
 star." 
 
 I 
 
 RN 
 
Have you ever thought what would 
 become of this country without the 
 Immigrant? Have you considered 
 how God is enriching America by giv- 
 ing us this procession of the Immi- 
 grants? Mr. Shriver in his ''Immigrant 
 Forces," suggests that, "if the 13,516,- 
 000 persons, our total foreign-born 
 white population, having packed their 
 bags and bundles, should silently sail 
 away some night back to Europe and 
 beyond," we should discover imme- 
 diately how dependent we are upon the 
 Immigrants, and how bereft we should 
 be without them. 
 
 Mr. Shriver forgets that these de- 
 parting millions might take along with 
 them their children born in the United 
 States, which would add 18,900,000 
 more, a total of 32,000,000 persons ! 
 We should know then, suddenly, what 
 we owe to the Immigrant. The United 
 States, without them, would be like a 
 land that has been swept by a catas- 
 trophe the like of which has never vis- 
 ited any nation. 
 
 We of the United States are en- 
 riched by the coming of the Immigrant, 
 but Europe and Asia are becoming im- 
 poverished by his departure. Put 
 yourself, for one moment, in the place 
 of the old folk who are left behind in 
 the far countries. Think of standing 
 on the shores of America and seeing 
 tens of thousands, hundreds of thou- 
 
sands of Americans going away to 
 some foreign land never to come back. 
 Think of America stripped of one mil- 
 lion people a year, instead of receiving 
 one million people a year! 
 
 We owe much to the Immigrant. 
 Do you know that one-fourth of the 
 Grand Army men who bartled in 1861 
 were foreign-born men? Do you know 
 that three-fourths of your hardest la- 
 bor, aside from that done on the farms, 
 is done by the Immigrant; and that 
 much of the best farm work is done by 
 the Immigrant? 
 
 This country needs him. But it can- 
 not assort him. It must take him as 
 he comes, and use him as it finds him. 
 We seem to have a preference for Im- 
 migrants from certain lands like Eng- 
 land, Ireland, Scotland, Germany, Swe- 
 den, Norway, Denmark, Holland. We 
 look upon them as people of our own 
 blood and kin. We would reject, if 
 we could, the coming of some of the 
 foreign races. But we can't. And it 
 is well that we can't. Out of the skele- 
 ton of the lion we get honey. 
 
 Mr. Robert Watchorn, a careful stu- 
 dent of the Immigration problem, savs 
 this: "If you give the Italian, the 
 Hungarian, and the Russian Jew half 
 a chance, he will make the English, the 
 Trish, and the German look like thirty 
 cents. " 
 
 Do you know how the steel in the 
 
 r 
 
 RN 
 
finest sword-blades is compounded? 
 When the cutler will form the finest 
 steel he gathers samples of iron from 
 Sweden, from Syria, from Russia, from 
 England, from the United States and 
 fuses them together and forges them 
 into a weapon that will carry an edge, 
 and that will flash in the soldier's hand 
 like a bar of quicksilver. And so our 
 Heavenly Father is forging here in 
 America the coming man, and He gath- 
 ers the metal from every land, and out 
 of His refining fires He will produce 
 here, at last, the man of His desire. 
 
 I never think that it is much of a 
 question whether a man was born in 
 America; the big question is: Is Am- 
 erica born in him? 
 
 The Immigrant is a burden of 
 course, but all burdens are blessings 
 just as all blessings are burdens. Can- 
 not we say from our hearts: Be he 
 burden or be he blessing, thanks be to 
 God for the Immigrant ! 
 
 The majority of the Immigrants who 
 come to us are only ordinary men. 
 Most of them are not skilled. Few of 
 them are endowed with genius. But 
 we need ordinary men.. Maybe we 
 have too many who think themselves 
 extraordinary and not enough who are 
 ready to be ordinary and to do the 
 ordinary things. Here is a fine word 
 from President Wilson : "When I look 
 back on the processes of history, when 
 
I survey the genesis of America, I see 
 this written over every page: that the 
 nations are renewed from the bottom, 
 not from the top ; that the genius which 
 springs up from the ranks of unknown 
 men is the genius which renews the 
 youth and energy of the people. 
 Everything I know about history, 
 every bit of experience and observa- 
 tion that has contributed to my 
 thought, has confirmed me in the con- 
 viction that the real wisdom of human 
 life is compounded out of the experi- 
 ences of ordinary men." 
 
 These Immigrants who come to us 
 are largely ordinary men, but they are 
 human men, men who can feel, men 
 who can understand. They are mostly 
 respectable men. They had a hunger 
 for better things, and that hunger has 
 drawn them across the seas. Mr. Rob- 
 ert Haven Schauffler had a poem some 
 time ago in the Assembly Herald tell- 
 ing us of the wrong we do to the Immi- 
 grant when we call him "The Scum of 
 the Earth." The Immigrant is not the 
 scum of the earth. Europe is not pour- 
 ing its sewage into the United States, 
 as the inflammatory speakers of ten 
 years ago were used to affirm. The 
 men who come to us are toilers. They 
 are ready to work, and to work hard. 
 
 They are not well-clad when they 
 come ; they would not feel at home in 
 your drawing-room. They have not 
 
 RN 
 
intellectual faces. They do not come 
 as toys; they come as toilers. 
 
 We ought to remember, sirs, that 
 our ancestors were Immigrants, even 
 if they came over on the "Mayflower." 
 One of our humorists made the esti- 
 mate that the "Mayflower" was a ship 
 twenty-seven miles long, seven miles 
 wide, and three miles high, judging 
 from the number of living descendants 
 of those who came over in her when 
 she made her famous crossing. 
 
 Your ancestors and mine did not ar- 
 rive in silk hats and claw-hammer coats 
 and patent leather pumps. They were 
 plain, strong, fearless, honest men, 
 who prayed to God, and read their 
 Bibles hard, and went to church, and 
 worked with their two hands for 
 bread. 
 
 If the Immigrants that are coming 
 to us are ignorant and rude, they are 
 human. They are our brothers in 
 Christ's dear Name, and we ought not 
 to wound and pain them with ill and 
 coarse titles. There are names that 
 hurt, — names like "Dago," "Sheeny," 
 "Nigger," "Greaser," — names that soil 
 the lips that speak them more than 
 they soil the persons against whom 
 they are directed. 
 
 Doctor E. R. Dille of San Francisco 
 gave me a poem by Bishop Mclntyre 
 concerning this cruel nick-naming: 
 
"Dago, and Sheeney, and Chink, 
 
 Greaser and Nigger and Jap, 
 The Devil invented these terms, I think, 
 
 To hurl at each hopeful chap 
 Who comes so far, over the foam, 
 
 To this land of his heart's desire, 
 To rear his brood, to build his home, 
 
 And to kindle his hearthstone fire. 
 While the eyes with joy are blurred, 
 
 Lo! we make the strong man sink, 
 And stab the soul with the hateful word, 
 
 Dago, and Sheeney, and Chink. 
 
 ' ' Dago, and Sheeney, and Chink, 
 
 These are the vipers that swarm 
 Up from the edge of Perdition's brink 
 
 To hurt and dishearten and harm. 
 O shame! when their Roman forbears walked 
 
 Where the first of the Caesars trod 
 O shame! when their Hebrew fathers talked 
 
 With Moses, and he with God. 
 These swarthy sons of Japhet and Shem 
 
 Gave the goblet of Life's sweet drink 
 To the thirsty world, which now gives them 
 
 Dago, and Sheeney, and Chink. 
 
 "Dago, and Sheeney, and Chink, 
 
 Greaser, and Nigger and Jap, 
 From none of them doth Jehovah shrink, 
 
 He lifteth them all to His lap. 
 And the Christ, in His kingly grace, 
 
 When their sad, low sob He hears 
 Puts His tender embrace around our race 
 
 As He kisses away its tears." 
 
 Are you interested in the Immi- 
 grant? Are you reading any of the re- 
 cent books about the Immigrant, and 
 about American popular government, 
 and the controlling of the multitudes? 
 They are illuminating books, and those 
 
 RN 
 

 who read none of them are voluntarily 
 leaving themselves in ignorance. 1 am 
 glad our Women's Missionary Socie- 
 ties are studying Miss Laura G. 
 Gould's "America God's Melting Pot." 
 It is a good book and gives much 
 wholesome information, — and the read- 
 ing of it may sharpen their appetites 
 to study some other books, not quite 
 so interesting, but very much more ac- 
 curate and informing, like President 
 Lowell's "Public Opinion and Popu- 
 lar Government, " a book that tells 
 about the vital obstacles to popular 
 government; or like Mr. Joseph B. 
 Bishop's "The Panama Gateway," a 
 real book by a real man who sees 
 when he looks. Everybody who wants 
 to know, ought to read Mr. Frederic 
 J. Haskins' "The Immigrant," a great 
 eye-opener; and Mr. Peter Robinson's 
 "The New Immigration," a greater 
 eye-opener; and Mr. Frank J. Warne's 
 "The Immigrant Invasion," one of the 
 greatest books on the subject that has 
 appeared. 
 
 The women are studying the Immi- 
 gration question ; are you studying it 
 — you — a man? Our Women's Mis- 
 sionary Societies meet once each month 
 to study the great problems of world- 
 civilization ; are you studying them — 
 you — a man? Is the woman finding 
 out something about the world-riddles 
 that the average man knows nothing 
 
of? Would not it be well for the men 
 to follow the women in their study of 
 Missions? 
 
 O, how much the Church of Jesus 
 owes to these devoted women ! If you 
 could suddenly take all of the Women's 
 Missionary Societies out of the work, 
 and cause all women to cease their 
 Missionary efforts, I tell you Mission- 
 ary enthusiasm would fall down as if 
 it had been struck on the head with a 
 mallet. The men in our Churches 
 would move very slowly in Missions if 
 the women did not keep them stirred 
 up. Woman may make a nuisance of 
 herself, sometimes, in some directions, 
 but were it not for the women, half the 
 men would not be half alive half the 
 time. 
 
 There are women living now who 
 give us the impression that Eve was 
 not made from Adam's rib, but from 
 Adam's back-bone. Many men seem to 
 be minus a back-bone, but there is no 
 obvious lack of it amongst the women. 
 
 I wish every woman in our Churches 
 was a regular member of the Women's 
 Missionary Society. If they could not 
 always be present they could occasion- 
 ally be present. Do not make an ex- 
 cuse when they invite you to become a 
 member. We are told that the wife of 
 a colored minister requested one of 
 the ladies to join the Mission Band, 
 but the lady excused herself by saying 
 
 r 
 
 — — ■ — 
 
she wouldn't join any kind of a ''Band,'' 
 because she had no ear for music and 
 couldn't even play a mouth-organ. 
 
 It is not the mouth-organ that our 
 noble Missionary women play on, as 
 any one who will attend their meetings 
 will speedily discover, and as any one 
 who counts the moneys they contribute 
 by sheer self-denial will acknowledge. 
 
 We cannot think of Missions with- 
 out thinking of money. If there is a 
 man who is opposed to Foreign 
 Missions, who believes in keeping the 
 money at Home and using it at Home, 
 — that man is going to have the chance 
 of his life to give to the Home-work 
 amongst the Immigrants, right here in 
 Los Angeles, in the next ten or twenty 
 years. 
 
 Our great, rich Presbyterian Church 
 in the whole United States is raising 
 less than $400,000 per year for work 
 amongst the new Immigrants. We 
 shall need that sum or a greater sum 
 for the work on this Western Coast 
 alone. Our city will be the neck of 
 the bottle through which the alien will 
 pass into this splendid Southland. Los 
 Angeles will be one of the best places 
 on earth from which to evangelize Eu- 
 rope. Some of the vexing and portent- 
 ous problems are going to call for so- 
 lution right here at this new Immigra- 
 tion Gateway. If you shrink from giv- 
 ing to Foreign Mission work, open your 
 
hand wide and give generously to 
 Home Mission work. 
 
 What are we going to do with the 
 multitudes that are destined to gather 
 on this Coast? I wish I could write the 
 answer on the sky: "Be Christlike; 
 love them; win them to faith in our 
 Master!" That will save them and 
 make good Americans of them, and 
 nothing else will do it. Love to Jesus 
 is the golden link that binds us to every 
 man that breathes. 
 
 We shall have to come into physical 
 contact with these strange peoples ; we 
 shall have to look in their faces; we 
 shall have to love them into the king- 
 dom of heaven. Mr. Booker Washing- 
 ton in his "Man Farthest Down," says : 
 "It is very curious what a difference 
 there is in the impression a man makes 
 upon you if you stop and shake hands 
 with him, instead of merely squinting 
 at him critically in order to take a cold 
 sociological inventory of his character 
 and condition." 
 
 That is to say, the man looks like a 
 man, like a brother man, when you 
 touch his hand with your hand, — when 
 you see in him a precious soul worth 
 saving. The Commissioner of Immi- 
 gration in New York a few months ago 
 closed his Report with the words : "If 
 the Church in America does not preach 
 Christ to the Immigrant, the Church is 
 passing by a great opportunity." 
 
 RN 
 
God is going to send these multi- 
 tudes to us. We are going to look in 
 their pleading faces. Are we getting 
 ready to tell them the Old, Old Story, 
 and to tell it gently and tenderly and 
 lovingly? There is nothing that can 
 reach and lift up and hold up these 
 coming masses bu: the Gospel of Jesus 
 the Christ. 
 
 Your new manners will confuse 
 them ; your strange language will make 
 them a prey to the evil-minded ; your 
 money-changers will defraud them ; 
 your demagogues will unsettle them ; 
 your petty speculators will strip them 
 to the bone. 
 
 You, and you, and I must carry this 
 £-ood Gospel to them ; we must preach 
 Christ to them, not only with our lips, 
 but by our lives. We must touch them 
 and love them and save them by being 
 unto them as brother unto brother. 
 
 # 
 
 1 
 
RN 
 
OUR 
 
 HOMELAND 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 
Our Homeland 
 
 By 
 Rev. William H. Fishburn, D. D. 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in 
 
 West Adams Presbyterian Church 
 
 Los Angeles, California 
 
 January, 1915 
 
Published by order of the 
 
 Church Extension Board of the 
 
 Presbytery of Los Angeles 
 
 January *1 91 5 
 
Our Homeland 
 
 NUMBERS 13:27 
 
 "We came unto the land Vliitftetf tli.ou; 
 sentest us, and surely it flowetji with milk 
 and honey/' ; 
 
 On this Missionary Thanksgiving Sunday 
 it is something to give thanks to God for 
 that we are in the United States of America. 
 
 Under the Stars and Stripes there is tran- 
 quillity, there is repose, while under many 
 of the national banners of Europe the earth 
 shakes beneath the foot from explosions of 
 guncotton and rhyolite and picric acid, and 
 the long rolling thunder of siege guns. 
 
 In Europe, for the moment, the catechism 
 is crushed into slime under cannon wheels; 
 Krupp has pushed Christ out of the minds 
 of men; bombshells make a bigger noise than 
 Bibles ; and the procession of civilization seems 
 to be led by a powder cart. 
 
 Our public prints bring us from day to 
 day messages of "mire, misery and murder." 
 The religion of Jesus is thrust into the back- 
 ground. An English newspaper told us that 
 in one large Episcopalian Church in London 
 the other day the organist played as a volun- 
 tary on the great organ, "It's a Long Way to 
 Tipperary," while the people applauded; and 
 the populations of Paris, London, Petrograd, 
 Vienna hear no hallelujahs of praise to God, 
 — they hear instead the tramp, tramp, tramp 
 of military legions and the martial music of 
 trumpet and fife and drum. 
 
 And so we give thanks on this Missionary 
 Sunday that we are in the United States of 
 America and we give additional thanks that 
 we are in California, where we receive the 
 
daily benedictions of the sunshine, are saluted 
 by the merry songs of mocking-birds, and 
 are refreshed with the sweet scent of flowers. 
 
 "We came into the land whither thou sent- 
 est us, and surely it floweth with milk and 
 JjqtSe^* Doubtless many of these Children 
 of Israel were sorely disappointed when they 
 came at last to the Promised Land. The 
 rivers of Palestine did not flow white with 
 milk and yellow with cream from bank to 
 bank; they flowed with mud. The Israelites 
 Saw no golden honey dripping from the trees; 
 they saw hostile spearmen and bowmen wait- 
 ing behind the trees to contest with them 
 every inch of the pathway into the Land of 
 Promise. 
 
 Palestine was a Land of Potentialities, of 
 potential rivers of milk and potential hives 
 full of honey. After many years of sanguinary 
 battling and strenuous toil the Hebrews 
 planted rich meadows where the herds might 
 graze and turn the grass into rivers of milk; 
 they cultivated trees and fruits and blossoms, 
 and out of these the bees extracted delicious 
 honey. They found a land of potential milk 
 and honey, and, by the sweat of their faces, 
 they turned it into a land flowing with ver- 
 itable milk and honey. 
 
 We who are students of Missions and Mis- 
 sion work send out many a thought and 
 many a prayer for our distressed workers 
 in the Foreign fields. We care for Missions 
 and Mission workers everywhere. But today 
 we are going to fix our thoughts upon Home 
 Missions, upon Home Missions in California, 
 upon Home Missions in our own Presbytery. 
 We are deeply concerned in all Foreign af- 
 fairs as well as in all Home affairs. 
 
 When we speak of American Missions, our 
 
thoughts go up to that northern region where 
 Alaskans are shivering under the Midnight 
 Sun with the Stars and Stripes frozen to the 
 flagstaff— and down to the burning tropic 
 lands where our commerce rushes through 
 the Panama Canal. 
 
 Now, you must not feel that our thinking 
 is little thinking or contracted thinking when 
 we shut ourselves up during this hour to a 
 study of Mission work in California. Cali- 
 fornia is not little nor contracted. It is Big. 
 
 If you could break some of the Eastern 
 States loose from their moorings and bring 
 them out here, you might bring the Empire 
 State of New York and lay it down in Cali- 
 fornia; and then lay the Keystone State of 
 Pennsylvania alongside it; and they lay Ohio 
 down, and then Massachusetts, and New Jer- 
 sey and Connecticut and Rhode Island, all 
 inside our borders, and you would then have 
 545 square miles of our Golden State remain- 
 ing uncovered. 
 
 You might lay down inside of the lines of 
 California the British Isles, England and 
 Wales, Scotland and Ireland; and then go 
 to Germany and bring hither the Rhine Prov- 
 ince of Prussia which contains Essen and the 
 Krupp works, and Dusseldorf, where Hein- 
 rich Heine and Peter von Cornelius were 
 born, and Cologne with its Cathedral, and 
 Treves with its cathedral, and Aix-la-Cha- 
 pelle with its cathedral; and then bring the 
 Kingdom of Saxony, and the Province of 
 Alsace-Lorraine, and the Provinces of Bremen 
 and Saxe-Weimar, and Mecklenburg-Strelitz, 
 and Oldenburg, and Lubcck, and Waldeck, 
 and yet leave some 10,000 square miles of 
 California unoccupied. 
 
 Some of the European Kingdoms and Prin- 
 
cipalities are so small that it is said they 
 must get the consent of the neighboring Prin- 
 cipality before trying out a new field piece, 
 lest the missile discharged in this Principality 
 should find lodgment in the Principality next 
 door. 
 
 If you could pick up the State of California 
 and carry it to the East and lay it down in its 
 full length north and south across the Eastern 
 States, it might cool its forehead in the icy 
 waters of the Canadian Lakes, then stretch 
 its ample body southward over Ohio, Penn- 
 sylvania, West Virginia, Old Virginia, Ken- 
 tucky, Tennessee and Florida, and dip its feet 
 in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, 
 When we talk about California, we are talk- 
 ing about that which is Big. 
 
 When Cabrillo explored this coast in A. D. 
 1542, and when Sir Francis Drake explored 
 it in A. D. 1578, they saw not what California 
 was destined to become. All they saw was a 
 great desert over which roamed wandering 
 tribes of Indians. They saw no rivers of poten- 
 tial milk nor hives full of potential honey. But 
 we who live in California now can lift thank- 
 ful faces to God and say: "We came into the 
 land whither thou sentest us, and surely it 
 floweth with milk and honey." 
 
 One single county in California last year 
 produced 10,855,560 pounds of milk, butter 
 and cheese. That was Humboldt County. 
 Humboldt County floweth with milk. 
 
 The San Joaquin Valley produced in one 
 year 11,532,000 pounds of honey. That val- 
 ley drips with honey. 
 
 Last year we gathered in this State 116,913 
 carloads, ten tons to the carload, of fruits 
 fresh, fruits dried, fruits canned. We shipped 
 18,085 carloads of oranges and lemons. : We 
 
sent out 65,(XK) tons of raisins; 20,000 tons 
 of dried peaches; and we added 45,000 tons 
 of the humble prune to give zest to the East- 
 ern breakfast table, and 169,258 tons of sugar 
 to sweeten the coffee. 
 
 Of the 242 millions of barrels of petroleum 
 produced in the United States last year, 98 
 millions of barrels gushed out of our Califor- 
 nia oil wells. We have 3,150,000 acres of 
 irrigated land in our State, with sufficient 
 water within reach to irrigate six millions of 
 acres more. We have turned water-power 
 into electric-power, and out of a possible nine 
 million horse power we are now using nearly 
 one million horse power. We cut in a single 
 year 1,270,000,000 feet of lumber; and last 
 year we dug out of our mines sufficient gold 
 to coin one million $20 gold pieces; 1,500,000 
 gallons of olive oil flowed from our trees dur- 
 ing the past year; and 13,700 tons of almonds 
 and walnuts were gathered from our or- 
 chards. 
 
 Now, when we turn our eyes away from the 
 greater vision of the whole State of California 
 and fix them on the smaller vision of Los An- 
 geles Presbytery, our own Presbytery, we 
 shall discover that we have not fixed them 
 upon a little vision but upon a big vision. 
 The Los Angeles Presbytery is Big; it is 
 17,172 square miles big. It covers Los An- 
 geles County, and Orange, Imperial and San 
 Diego Counties. 
 
 This Los Angeles Presbytery is bigger than 
 all Switzerland; it is bigger than all Den- 
 mark; it is bigger than all Holland. It is 
 nearly four times as big as the European 
 Kingdom of Montenegro, which, not very 
 many months ago, shook its little brown fist 
 in the faces of all the Powers of Europe. 
 
If you could re-shape our Presbytery so as 
 to make it a perfect square, it would be a 
 square of 131 miles to a side. And if you 
 could turn European Turkey into a square 
 Turkish rug and lay it down on Los Angeles 
 Presbytery there would be an uncovered bor- 
 der all around the rug thirteen miles wide. 
 
 Or if you could transform the whole King- 
 dom of Belgium into a square Brussels car- 
 pet and lay it down on the land occupied by 
 this Presbytery, it would require 5,500 square 
 miles of additional carpet to complete the 
 covering. 
 
 In this Presbytery of ours you could lay 
 down the whole State of Maryland, and along- 
 side Maryland you could lay the whole State 
 of Delaware, and there would be room left 
 in the Presbytery to locate the whole State 
 of Rhode Island for a tennis court, and room 
 in the opposite corner to install one of the 
 larger of the Alaskan islands for an ice-house. 
 
 That is the part of the story of this Presby- 
 tery that shines — its Bigness. But when we 
 look at the work Presbyterians are actually 
 doing here, it does not shine with any marked 
 degree of lustre. 
 
 There are 19,000 Presbyterian members in 
 this Presbytery. Possibly there is an addi- 
 tional 19,000 unaffiliated Presbyterians, crimi- 
 nal Presbyterians, who refuse to assume their 
 responsibilities as church members and bear 
 their rightful share of church burdens. They 
 are verily guilty before God. 
 
 It is well for us to praise that which is 
 praiseworthy, but it is well also to call atten- 
 tion to that which is blameworthy. 
 
 Our home city grows, and we praise it. 
 Los Angeles insists on growing in six direc- 
 tions, north, south, east, west, up and down, 
 
 8 
 
at the same time. There is no more enthusi-r 
 astic city on this continent. We are full of 
 ardor so far as city building goes, so far as 
 real estate development goes. I never knew 
 a class of business men so endowed with 
 verve and empressement as our real estate 
 dealers. 
 
 We were informed some time ago that the 
 new telescope to be erected on Mount Wilson 
 will bring the moon within twenty-two miles 
 of the earth. And when I read it I had my 
 suspicions that if the moon ever comes within 
 twenty-two miles of Los Angeles, our ven- 
 turesome real estate dealers will cut it up 
 into suburban building lots. The Padres dis- 
 covered Los Angeles and then the promoters 
 came along and put the discovery on a paying 
 basis. 
 
 We are enthusiastic in real estate develop- 
 ment; we are not slothful in business; but are 
 we truly enthusiastic in work for our Lord? 
 Are we on fire in this Presbytery with Mis- 
 sionary enthusiasm? The reading of the 
 little pamphlet sent out a few weeks ago by 
 the Church Extension Board of our Presby- 
 tery will not fill you with pride. It will make 
 your face red with humiliation. 
 
 There are 38 Presbyterian Churches and 
 Missions within the City of Los Angeles. 
 That reads well. But when you are informed 
 that some of these organized churches have 
 no church buildings whatever, and that some 
 of them are worshiping in inadequate tem- 
 porary structures, it does not puff you up 
 with vanity. 
 
 During the past two years, our Presbytery 
 has organized 27 new churches. But there 
 are places in Imperial Valley that are crying 
 
out of real need for more commodious hen 
 of worship; and there are not less than three 
 conspicuous fields within our city that ought 
 to be organized at once and put upon their 
 feet, but that cannot be organized for lack of 
 funds. Other religious denominations stand 
 out of our way, waiting for us to take action, 
 and for want of money we cannot take action. 
 Los Angeles is a city of refinement and good 
 taste, and we dare not erect a cheap and ill- 
 conditioned structure in one of the fine resi- 
 dence sections and persuade the neighborhood 
 to believe that it is a Presbyterian Church 
 and get them to be proud of it and to go into 
 raptures over it. 
 
 Our Missionary pastors are meagerly sup- 
 plied. Very infrequently does a Missionary 
 pastor in this Presbytery receive above $1200 
 per year, and out of that sum he must find 
 his own manse. 
 
 Within the bounds of our Presbytery there 
 are a quarter of a million of unchurched, na- 
 tive American whites; there are 80,000 Mexi- 
 cans; there are 15,000 Japanese; there are 
 35,000 Negroes; there are 12,000 Chinese. We 
 are doing somewhat to carry on work amongst 
 our Spanish people. We have five Spanish 
 Missions. We employ five Mexican pastors, 
 one Mexican evangelist, and one social settle- 
 ment worker who gives instruction in sew- 
 ing, housekeeping and American manners to 
 the Mexican girls. 
 
 From the Home Mission boards outside Los 
 Angeles we receive for our Spanish work 
 $6100 per year; and the Foreign Mission 
 Board contributes largely to the Chinese work 
 of the Presbytery. We have two Spanish 
 Presbyterian Churches and one Spanish Pres- 
 byterian Mission in this city. We have one 
 
 10 
 
Japanese Presbyterian Church which is self- 
 supporting. 
 
 There are 54 fields within this Presbytery 
 that are unable, of themselves, to support a 
 pastor, and that need the financial help of the 
 more favored churches. 
 
 Dr. Kirkes, our efficient Church Extension 
 Superintendent, told me how ready the poor 
 are to help themselves. The railroad laborers 
 up in the mountain district of Saugus paid 
 for a lot on which to erect a Sunday School 
 building in order that their children might 
 have religious instruction. And he told me of 
 another district in which he found 74 families 
 outside the reach of any church who were 
 eager to have a Sunday School and were ready 
 to give liberally out of their poor means to 
 found such a school. 
 
 Our Los Angeles Presbytery is big. Are 
 we who are members of the Presbytery as big 
 as the Presbytery? I believe the women of 
 our Missionary Societies are as big as the 
 Presbytery, and I believe the men of our 
 Presbyterian churches are a great deal littler 
 than the Presbytery. The women study the 
 Missionary situation and the men neglect it. 
 The hearts of the women burn with Mis- 
 sionary zeal, while the hearts of the men 
 freeze with Missionary indifference. Were 
 the men as zealous as the women, were they 
 as ready to give and did they give in the 
 same proportion as the women, there would 
 be no financial problem just now looking us 
 point-blank in the face in this God-favored 
 section. 
 
 It is largely ignorance that keeps the men 
 from catching fire with the Missionary spirit. 
 They do not know, and therefore they do not 
 care. 
 
 II 
 
"When they know they care ; 
 When they care they pray; 
 When they pray they give/' 
 
 * 
 
 It is lack of knowledge that locks up many 
 a pocketbook. 
 
 Bite not your thumb at Missions, O you 
 strong man, nor ignore them as something 
 that is a woman's job and not a man's job. 
 In this Presbytery it is a man's job, a big 
 job for a big man, and when you come to 
 know more about Missions you will know 
 you know less that you used to think you 
 knew when you knew you knew everything. 
 
 Some of you husbands know that your wife 
 knows more about a great many things than 
 you know. Some of you husbands know 
 that your wife occasionally expresses a good 
 opinion about something, and you keep quiet 
 about it and pretend not to notice it, and a 
 few days afterward you bring it out as your 
 own. 
 
 St. Paul told the women of his period that 
 when they wanted to know anything about 
 religious matters, they should ask their hus- 
 bands at home. Were St. Paul living now 
 he would tell the husbands that when they 
 wanted to know anything about religious 
 matters, particularly about Missions, they 
 should inquire of their wives. 
 
 Our Heavenly Father has given to Presby- 
 terian believers in this Presbytery a huge op- 
 portunity, an opportunity too large to be told 
 in words. The Presbyterian Church has al- 
 ways been a Missionary Church. Presby- 
 terianism in the past has always stood for 
 evangelization, for the churching of the un- 
 churched, for the bringing into the Kingdom 
 
 12 
 
of Christ those who have not yet heard the 
 Word of God. 
 
 Presbyterianism means something ; it stands 
 for something. It stands for unswerving fidel- 
 ity to the inspired Word, and for the promo- 
 tion of the Truth. It stands for Mission work, 
 aggressive Mission work in the Homeland 
 and in Foreign lands. 
 
 Real Presbyterianism has iron in its blood 
 and the fervor of a great conviction in its 
 heart. Presbyterianism is Calvinism with its 
 coat off and its sleeves rolled up to the elbow. 
 
 Calvinism was originally a fixed and static 
 faith wrought out in a laboratory, fused in 
 the fires of a pure devotion, refined in the 
 crucible of serious thought, forged on the 
 anvil of long reflection. That was the older 
 Calvinism. But modern Presbyterianism has 
 taken that same static Calvinism and has 
 transformed it into a dynamic and operative 
 faith, and it is ready, today, to meet the chal- 
 lenge of every stress and of every crisis. 
 
 Every once in a while you are informed that 
 Calvinism is dead. I read a book last sum- 
 mer that was written to prove that Calvinism 
 is dead and that it will never be heard from 
 in the thinking world again. 
 
 Maybe some of you remember the fine old 
 Irish tale called "Michael Monaghan's Wake/' 
 that you used to read in your childhood. 
 Michael Monaghan was dead, and they ap- 
 pointed a "wake" to be held over him, and 
 they gathered at the cabin, and the "wake 
 was in full going" when Michael "came to." 
 And he rose up and thrashed the undertaker 
 and two of the chief mourners and upset the 
 pedestals and threw the casket out of the 
 window, — and they said of him afterwards 
 that if he was dead "he was sure a lively 
 
 13 
 
corpse. n Michael refused to £>e dead. 
 
 And so, every now and then, some pedantic 
 journalist proclaims that Calvinism is dead, 
 that that system of theology that makes God 
 the center of all things above the earth and in 
 the earth and under the earth is dead — but 
 when they gather to hold a "wake" over it, 
 Calvinism refuses to be dead, and asserts itself 
 and demonstrates its immortal virility by get- 
 ting up and swinging its strong arms and 
 going forth rejoicing as a strong man to run 
 a race. 
 
 Gone, perhaps, is the old Miltonian the- 
 ology; gone, perhaps, is the red-hot whiplash 
 of the old satan-haunted theology; but Cal- 
 vinism is not gone. 
 
 Through Calvinism runs a golden string 
 that cannot be broken nor stretched, that all 
 the king's horses and all the king's men can- 
 not rend asunder, and that golden string is 
 God's Sovereignty and man's dependence upon 
 God free grace. Since Adam walked through 
 the morning dawn of history a hundred gener- 
 ations of meddling men have essayed to sunder 
 that golden string, but it remains unbroken, 
 
 I believe I should not like to go back to 
 the Puritan days with the inflexible Blue 
 Laws. But one of your fine writers says: 
 "Better a time when a man was forbidden to 
 kiss his wife on the Lord's Day than a land 
 without any Lord's Day ; better a solemn face 
 than a face blotched with vice." 
 
 When one looks out at the capricious relig- 
 ious hobbies that are asking for disciples to- 
 day ; when one hears the Soud declarations of 
 belief in what is called the Fatherhood of 
 God, but which means, in many cases, the 
 doting grandfatherhood of God; when one 
 takes note of the assurance man is getting te» 
 
 14 
 
have in himself — in one of the recent whim- 
 sies he is told to say his prayers to himself, 
 to get down on his knees and say his prayers 
 to his subliminal self since there is no Eternal 
 Person standing back of all things, — when one 
 hears the philosophical monism of the time 
 telling man that he is only a gas-filled bubble 
 on the sea of existence, that death will prick 
 the bubble and that he w r ill sink back w r ith the 
 ioss of all personality and of all conscious- 
 ness into the great reservoir, — when one wit- 
 nesses all of that irrational unheaval, when one 
 hears all of that delirious ravings that relisr- 
 ionistic dementia which comes to us disguised 
 as profound learning, I think one could bear 
 to feel the old whiplash of the old theology 
 curling around his shoulders now and then to 
 awaken him from his intellectual stupidity and 
 to bring him back to his seven senses. 
 
 If ever Presbyterianism was needed it is 
 needed now; and if in any place it is needed it 
 is needed just here in California. And when we 
 ask you to give money and to give thought 
 and energy for the sending out of Presbyte- 
 rian workers here in our own Homeland we 
 are asking you to engage in a noble and ex- 
 cellent work. 
 
 God is giving to Presbyterianism her op- 
 portunity in the Southland just now. You 
 know that, in our Scripture lesson, those poor 
 Israelites turned back from the golden gate- 
 way and refused to go in. They wanted the 
 fruit of the land, but they were afraid to face 
 the giants. They got one glimpse of the good 
 things of the land, and then they turned back. 
 
 Some one tells ns that the reason the In- 
 dians did not develop California and make a 
 ^reat empire of it before the white man came 
 was because they were lazy, "In winter they 
 
 15 
 
sat on the east side of the wigwam and fol- 
 lowed the sun around to the west, and in 
 summer they sat on the west side and fol- 
 lowed the shade around to the east." 
 
 They would not work. Of course, in addition 
 to inborn idleness, the Indian had no vision of 
 Christ. He did not know. But we have the 
 vision. We know. And God is giving us in 
 California our great chance. The milk and 
 the honey are here if we will but put forth 
 our hands and work. 
 "He is not worthy of the honeycomb 
 Who shuns the hive because the bees have 
 stings/" 
 
 And if Presbyterianism turns her back now 
 upon the rich opportunity God is giving her 
 in Southern California, He will take the work 
 out of her hands and will give it unto other 
 husbandmen. 
 
 I wish my own eyes were open wider than 
 they are to the Mission needs and possibili- 
 ties of this big Los Angeles Presbytery. I 
 wish that a white light from God's Spirit 
 might flame around me and give me a vision 
 of what ought to be done in this Presbytery 
 at this moment. There are 99 churches in 
 the Presbytery, and, unhappily, there are 99 
 units, each unit endeavoring to look out for 
 itself to the best of its ability and to permit 
 the other 98 units to do the same. I am glad 
 there are 99 churches, but there ought to be 
 only One Unit and that unit ought to be the 
 whole Presbytery. Every church ought to 
 care about the growth and prosperity of all 
 the other churches. If one member suffers 
 we ought all to feel the hurt, and if one mem- 
 ber rejoices we ought all to feel a thrill of 
 joy. 
 
 A few years ago Dr. William L. Watkin- 
 
 16 
 
son gave us a book with the title, **The Duty 
 of Imperial Thinking," and in his book he 
 quoted from a rare writer who said, "You 
 never enjoy the world aright until the sea 
 itself floweth in your veins; till you are 
 clothed with the heavens and crowned with 
 the stars, and perceive yourself to be the heir 
 of the whole world." What I need and what 
 you need and what every person in our Pres- 
 bytery needs is a course of training along the 
 line of "Imperial Thinking," thinking largely, 
 thinking outside of ourselves, thinking outside 
 our own local churches, thinking about the 
 needs of the whole Church. 
 
 And, if I had the power to do it, I would 
 call together the business men of this Pres- 
 bytery, the men of the Official Boards of the 
 churches, the men with brains and with the 
 command of money, together with the pastors, 
 and I would have some one who knows to tell 
 them of the actual needs in our weak churches 
 at this moment, and just what funds are im- 
 peratively necessary to meet those needs, to 
 meet them on the head of the nail without 
 flinching; and then I would have means de- 
 vised to raise on the spot the necessary mon- 
 eys — not to talk about it — not to pass eloquent 
 resolutions about it — but to do it — not to say, 
 'Til try," but "I will." Do you know that 
 the most hopeless characters in existence are 
 the ones who spend their lives saying 'Til 
 try," while the men who make the world's 
 wheels go round spend their lives saying "I 
 will"? 
 
 It is about time for some of us to get down 
 on our faces before God and to learn that it is 
 not saying but doing that is going to save us 
 and make us able to save other people. 
 
 Maybe it would be wise to hold such a 
 
 17 
 
proposed meeting- first in Los Angeles for Los 
 Angeles alone, and after we have shown that 
 the work can be done, after kindling the fires 
 here on our own altars, the conflagration 
 might spread to every altar in the Homeland. 
 
 \\ r e (fare not be narrow. We dare not say, 
 "So long as I have bread for myself I care 
 not who starves/* We must be big. We 
 must be broad. We must get a large horizon. 
 We are not to look at the vision through little 
 narrow slits of eyes; we are to look at what 
 God is offering to us through wide open eyes. 
 
 Some one told me that in a window in one 
 of our downtown stores is displayed this sign : 
 "AH things come to him who can r t wait."" 
 We used to say, "AH things come to him who 
 waits"; but nowadays we are learning that 
 they come a great deal faster when we get up 
 and go after them. 
 
 If it were possible to turn this vast oppor- 
 tunity over to the Women's Missionary So- 
 cieties I am sure they would try to seize it. 
 If they had the same financial power the men 
 have, it would be planned for and accomp- 
 lished before the next seven days pass away. 
 The women have the willingness without the 
 financial ability; the men have the financial 
 ability without the willingness. And I pray 
 for the hour to strike, and it is going to strike, 
 when the willingness and the financial ability 
 shall be vested in the same individual. 
 
 You and I are living in "a land that floweth 
 with milk and honey/" and ovtr privileges in 
 this most blessed land under the blue sky of 
 heaven ought to fill us with gratitude, and 
 our hands ought to be open wide when the 
 Mission offering is taken at the close of this 
 service. 
 
 18 
 
Dr. Herrick Johnson used to preach to his 
 people from the text: "God loveth a hilarious 
 giver," and he was warranted in using the 
 word "hilarious," for that is the word for 
 "cheerful" in the original tongue. Maybe we 
 are not to give because we enjoy it, but until 
 we enjoy it. A pious old German used to 
 say: "Ven I gif villingly it enchoys me so 
 much that I gif again." 
 
 The rich man with "much goods laid up for 
 many years" in Jesus' parable was not cen- 
 sured for having much riches. That is no sin. 
 His sin was in saying, "I have enough for 
 myself, and it's no difference about anybody 
 else." He was not condemned because he was 
 rich, but because he was mean. 
 
 Be not mean. Give gifts out of a thankful 
 heart, and God will receive them and bless 
 them, be they small or large. My friend, Mr. 
 R. L. James of San Francisco, gave me these 
 lines : 
 
 " 'Tis not by weight of jewels or plate, 
 Or the fondle of silk and fur, 
 
 "Tis the spirit in which the gift is rich, 
 As the gifts of the wise men were ; 
 
 And we are not told whose gift was gold, 
 Or whose was the gift of myrrh." 
 
 We are pioneers. Generations a thousand 
 years from now will look back at us and speak 
 of us as pioneers. It is worth while to be 
 doing work for our Lord Jesus in California 
 just now. We are laying the foundations for 
 innumerable temples, and foundation-work is 
 hard work. 
 
 Those Missionary ministers in the little, in- 
 conspicuous churches, those men living in se- 
 vere economy, are at work on the foundation 
 
 19 
 
stones of structures greater than they know or 
 dream. They are pioneer churchmen. Cali- 
 fornia is in its formative stage. We are plant- 
 ing and tilling the fields in order that the 
 people who come after us may see the rivers 
 of milk flowing past, and may feast on the 
 fountains of honey. 
 
 Los Angeles has not yet entered upon its 
 era of church building. We have three or 
 four banks in this city that are as splendid as 
 Buckingham Palace; but we have not yet 
 begun the erection of majestic churches which 
 are worth going out of one's way just to look 
 at. Perhaps it is because there are so many 
 little and needy churches that are asking 
 for help. But the era of church building will 
 come. The future is secure if we put our 
 hand in God's hand and go forward with the 
 sunlight of hope on our faces. And, if we 
 have God's grace to help us, 
 
 "We men of earth have here the stuff 
 Of Paradise. We have enough! 
 We need no other thing to build 
 The stairs into the unfulfilled, — 
 No other ivory for the doors, 
 No other marble for the floors, 
 No other cedar for the beam 
 And dome of man's immortal dream. 
 
 "Here on the paths of every day, 
 Here on the common human way, 
 Is all the busy gods would take 
 To build a Heaven ; to mould and make 
 New Edens. Ours the stuff sublime 
 To build Eternity in time." 
 
 20 
 
 Andrew J. Johnson, Printing, 719 W. Seventh St. 
 
Peace 
 
 By 
 Rev. William H. Fishburn, D. D. 
 
 A Sermon delivered in West Adams Presby- 
 terian Church, Los Angeles, California 
 September 27, 1914 
 
Peace 
 
 Matthew, 2:3. "When Heipd th* J\in,i had Jk$$yr$% % thtse 
 things, he was troubled." ' i »•*•*»• * *Y 
 
 If you will look in your history-book you 
 will find it there set down that Herod died 
 some nineteen hundred years ago. 
 
 That is a mistake. Herod is not dead. He 
 is living at this hour, his face wet with the 
 same fright-sweat, his soul convulsed with 
 the same delirium of terror that shook him so 
 many long centuries ago. 
 
 He is not one man but ten men, twenty men, 
 fifty men. He has multiplied and spread him- 
 self abroad with the passing of the years. He 
 holds all the Eastern Hemisphere in his red 
 and dripping hand. 
 
 He is in Russia, he is in Austria, he is in 
 Germany, he is in France, he is in England — 
 but everywhere he is the same Herod of the 
 Iron Face and the heart that knows no pity. 
 
 This Herod in our Scripture-lesson was a 
 menace to the well-being of his time because 
 he was a man of power entirely in love with 
 himself. He thought of no one but himself. 
 When he heard of the Babe that had been 
 born in Bethlehem he felt his throne tottering 
 and his scepter slipping away. He feared that 
 Power was going to be taken out of his hands 
 and given into other hands. 
 
 "Herod was troubled," etarachthe, upset, 
 turned over, thrown about as the water in the 
 sea is thrown about, tossed up and down ; 
 "Herod was troubled/' 
 
 God touched Herod's black soul with His 
 white finger, and "Herod was troubled." He 
 
"PEACE" 
 
 \vo.s troub 1 ed because he could not read the 
 signs of the times. He could guess at what 
 those.. -signs portended, but he would not sub- 
 n-i' to God. lie would outwit God. He would 
 not bow his neck to destiny. 
 
 He said to his men of war: "A Baby was 
 born in Bethlehem the other day — go quickly 
 to Bethlehem and kill every boy baby in that 
 little country village. " The soldiers went to 
 Bethlehem and did as they were instructed. 
 They destroyed the babes. But God's hand 
 was guarding the life of that One Babe, and, 
 before the soldiers realched Bethlehem the 
 Babe of Destiny had been carried away into 
 safety. 
 
 Herod did not win in his fight against God 
 — Herod was vanquished. That Babe grew 
 up. God took care that He should grow up. 
 When He reached full manhood they slew 
 Him on a cross. But it was impossible ut- 
 terly to kill the Prince of Life. They slew 
 Him, but He rose from the dead. He lives to- 
 day. He walks in the world today as the 
 Prince of Peace; and wherever Herod opens 
 his eyes today and sees Jesus standing before 
 him clothed in white raiment, Herod is 
 troubled. 
 
 Not only was the Herod in our Scripture- 
 lesson troubled, but, it is written, "all Jeru- 
 salem was troubled." The High Priest was 
 troubled; the Ruler of the Sanhedrin was 
 troubled ; the ministering Priests were trou- 
 bled ; the singing Levites were troubled ; ev- 
 ery ecclesiastical dignitary was troubled ; ev- 
 ery titled aristocrat was troubled. "All Jeru- 
 salem was troubled." 
 
'PEACE" 
 
 All Europe is troubled just now. All the 
 civilized world is troubled. When we open 
 our newspapers we are troubled. Morning, 
 noon and night you feel the thought of this 
 European War beating in your brain like a 
 hammer. Sometimes it seems to you as if 
 the whole universe were sliding and falling 
 into chaos before your eyes. 
 
 That is happening in Europe at this moment 
 the like of which the sun and the moon have 
 not before looked down upon in all human 
 time! 
 
 Within the zone of European conflict it is 
 not alone the Czar of Russia and the Emperor 
 of Germany and the President of France and 
 the King of England and the Emperor of 
 Austria and the Ruler of Servia who are trou- 
 bled. Princes and nobles and grand dukes 
 and arch-dukes are troubled too. They appre- 
 hend that the Clock of History is about to 
 strike Twelve for them and for their cherished 
 traditions, and that a new day is about to dawn 
 upon the world. They foresee the end of Des- 
 potism, the end of Militarism, the end of hered- 
 itary Monarchy, the end of titled aristocracy. 
 They see the world in pangs over the birth of 
 a new Order of Government wherein royalty 
 will be abolished, wherein "blue" blood will 
 cease to receive high praise, wherein the good 
 "red" blood that works and thinks and feels 
 will come into its own and will be the only 
 blood that will get any honor in the earth. 
 
 When we turn our faces towards Europe 
 we are troubled. When we see millions of 
 angered men facing each other 1 with war- 
 weapons in their hands, when we see "the 
 
"PEACE" 
 
 standards of the people plunging through the 
 thunderstorm/' we are troubled; when we see 
 the black vultures swooping down out of the 
 sky "like feathered thunder," we are troubled. 
 And we cannot help asking, How is it going to 
 end? What is going to be the outcome of it 
 all? 
 
 My people, the outcome of it will be for the 
 world's good. Do not let one doubt about that 
 arise in your hearts. God's hand is back of it 
 all. You will miss all the meaning of this tu- 
 mult if you permit yourself to believe that the 
 destinies of the world are committed to the 
 hands of Czars and Emperors and fighting 
 men. God is guiding all events, just as He 
 guided events in Herod's time; and the end of 
 it and the outcome of it will be salutary to all 
 our race. 
 
 This War burst suddenly upon the world. 
 None of us were looking for it. When I went 
 away for my vacation two months ago the 
 Dove of Peace seemed to be hovering over 
 Europe. And then, on July 28th, Austria de- 
 clared war against Servia. Europe drew one 
 long breath, and by August 7th Russia, France, 
 Belgium and England were in actual war with 
 Germany. And now, five or six of the great 
 world-powers are joined in the terrible car- 
 nage. 
 
 Our public prints have told us that the in- 
 sane fury of a schoolboy of eighteen in an ob- 
 scure town in Bosnia, on June 28th, by the 
 assassination of a man of noble birth, stirred 
 up the anger of Austria; Austria lifted up her 
 mailed hand against Servia and awakened the 
 rage of Russia; Russia began to move, and 
 
"PEACE" 
 
 Germany was aroused ; Germany stirred up 
 the wrath of France. And then, over the pass- 
 age through Belgium arose the anger of Eng- 
 land. And thus all Europe is red with the 
 flame of war. 
 
 In our Scripture-lesson Herod appealed to 
 the ministers of religion. He went to the chief 
 priests and scribes. He wanted to have his 
 conscience quieted in what he was about to 
 do. He knew what he was about to do. He 
 knew that he was going to do wrong, and he 
 wanted some one else besides himself upon 
 whom he could lay the blame. 
 
 Doubtless you have seen it announced that 
 almost every one of the Powers engaged in 
 this European struggle has appointed a Day 
 of Prayer wherein victory for its own arms 
 will be asked for in petitions to the God of 
 heaven, while the destruction of all opposing 
 arms will be entreated for. 
 
 I can imagine a prayer-meeting down in 
 the "Bad Place" wherein the tortured souls 
 might petition to be let out ; but I cannot im- 
 agine a prayer, even from the lips of lost souls, 
 wherein it should be set forth that while they 
 wanted to get out they wanted others to be 
 cast in. 
 
 Herod, we have said, wanted to lay the 
 blame for his sins upon somebody else; and it 
 seems that every one of these warring gov- 
 ernments is trying to prove that one or other 
 of the other governments started this war. 
 Each warring party, as the New York Times 
 points out, proves to its own satisfaction that 
 it is the injured party, the victim of aggres- 
 
"PEACE" 
 
 sion by another, that it desires peace above 
 all, but is unwillingly forced to self-defence. 
 
 "Germany proves to herself that she longs 
 for peace, but that 'Russia's mobilization is an 
 act which she could not ignore' ; Russia longs 
 for peace, but finds Germany's mobilizing and 
 'delaying the official notice of her mobiliza- 
 tion/ so that 'to hesitate longer would have 
 been to court disaster'; France longs for peace, 
 but finds Germany's demands couched 'in 
 terms so harsh as to merit the recall of the 
 French ambassador.' " 
 
 Who is to blame for this war? Who is the 
 protagonist? The New York Herald tells us 
 that the Kaiser, up to the very last moment, 
 "almost went down on his knees to Russia" to 
 induce her to desist from mobilization. 
 
 According to several statements, French 
 aviators and cavalry patrols along the border 
 were the first to break the peace. 
 
 Who is to blame for this war? May we not 
 say that Preparedness for War is to blame 
 for it? Is not the fact that the destinies of vast 
 empires are left in the hands of the Herods, 
 men of power and pride and heartlessness, to 
 blame for it? And will not it be better for 
 humankind when Christian Democracy ar- 
 rives, and power is wrested from the hands of 
 the few and is given into the hands of the 
 many? 
 
 We have been telling each other for a good 
 many years that huge preparations for war 
 were a guarantee of peace. Special pleaders 
 in our National House of Representatives at 
 Washington have asseverated that the only 
 
"PEACE" 
 
 way to preserve peace was to get ready for 
 war. 
 
 Have you considered what that means? It 
 means that we are loudly declaring to all the 
 rest of the world, "We are ready for you ! We 
 are better armed than you are. If you con- 
 struct a six-inch gun we will construct a sev- 
 en-inch gun; if you mount twelve-inch guns 
 on your battleships we will mount fourteen- 
 inch guns on ours ; if you build a destroyer 
 to steam thirty knots an hour we will build 
 one to go thirty-five knots an hour." 
 
 May it not turn out that there shall be 
 found a better way to keep the peace? May 
 not disarmament, leaving a sufficient policing 
 power on land and on the high seas, turn out 
 to be a better way to keep the peace than the 
 way that is now the fashion? Has not dis- 
 armament, at least in a few cases, proven to 
 be a better safeguard than prodigious arma- 
 ment? 
 
 Several of our military strategists have 
 pointed us to that line that stretches over 
 America from the Atlantic to the Pacific 
 marking the boundary between the United 
 States and Canada, a line more than three 
 thousand miles long, a line that is not guard- 
 ed by forts nor by standing armies nor by dis- 
 appearing guns, and have informed us that 
 across that unprotected line not one hostile 
 shot has been fired in one hundred years. 
 
 Preparation for Peace begets Peace, but pre- 
 paration for War begets War. For nearly two- 
 score years six millions of men in Europe have 
 been waiting with muskets in their hands and 
 with knapsacks packed, to rush to war on the 
 
10 "PEACE" 
 
 first click of the telegraph. And the telegraph 
 clicked! And the garments of Europe are 
 rolled in blood. 
 
 Europe is said to have, at this moment, 
 fourteen millions of men under arms at a cost 
 of sixty millions in money for every twelve 
 hours of daylight. To this may be added six- 
 ty millions more in blood and sweat and hor- 
 ror and sorrow and tears — one hundred and 
 twenty millions in every seven hundred and 
 twenty hours of daylight — enough in every 
 sixty seconds to build a great institution for 
 Charity or to erect a noble Church to the wor- 
 ship of God — all flung away as if it were cast 
 into the fire. 
 
 Wars do not start of themselves. There are 
 men who make fortunes out of war, manu- 
 facturers of the cutlery of war, of the ma- 
 chinery of war. There are professional agi- 
 tator's who forever cry out for war, but, when 
 war comes, thev run the other way at such 
 a speed that a bullet could hardly overtake 
 them. 
 
 War in the abstract ma^ be poetical, but 
 war in the concrete is what General Sherman 
 is said to have called it. A young man in one 
 of your magazine stories says: "When I look 
 at my grandfather's sword it makes me hot, 
 and I feel that I want to go to war ; but when 
 I look at my grandfather's wooden leg it cools 
 me down." 
 
 We need to be reminded that this war in 
 Europe is being fought by boys. Our own 
 great Civil War was fought by boys. The en- 
 listment rolls show two million six hundred 
 thousand enlistments, of whom only some 
 
"PEACE" 11 
 
 sixty thousand were above twenty-one years 
 of age. More than two and a quarter million 
 of boys fought in our Civil War. 
 
 And when you would picture to yourself 
 this carnage in Europe you must not think of 
 well-seasoned men of mature years with grey 
 hair — you must think of boys, college boys, 
 school boys — beautiful German boys, noble 
 English boys, handsome Austrian boys, up- 
 standing Scottish and Irish boys, strong- 
 framed Russian boys, undersized French boys 
 — boys with forty years of life expectancy be- 
 fore them, boys with the boys' hopes in their 
 hearts and the boys' faraway look in their dear 
 young eyes — marching, marching, marching to 
 their grapple with death. 
 
 In the wars of Napoleon Bonaparte there fell 
 three million and seventy thousand soldiers, 
 and two millions four hundred thousand of 
 them were boys, boys that ought to have been 
 at school or in the shelter of their homes, in- 
 stead of lying dead with their young faces 
 turned to the sky. 
 
 Europe got ready for war and she has in- 
 herited war. Here are some figures that must 
 be taken with reserve, as they are gathered 
 from an unofficial source and may be unau- 
 thentic. "In France, before this outbreak, the 
 government was expending $5.12 on her army 
 for every 61 cents she was expending on her 
 schools. England paid $5.81 for war while she 
 paid 77 cents for education. Germany paid 
 $4.12 for war for every 82 cents she paid for 
 education. Russia expended $2.81 on her mil- 
 itary preparations for every 3 cents she ex- 
 pended on her schools." Those nations were 
 
12 "PEACE" 
 
 not getting ready for peace ; they were getting 
 ready for war — and war came. 
 
 "Herod was troubled." Why was he trou- 
 bled? Because he knew that he was not right 
 before God. Because he knew that his own 
 past life had been a long iniquity. Because he 
 felt that a Greater than he was coming to take 
 his throne from him and to displace him. 
 
 The imperial men of Europe are troubled. 
 They are afraid. They are afraid of each 
 other; they are afraid of their own people; 
 they are afraid of themselves; they are afraid 
 with an awful fear of tomorrow and what to- 
 morrow may bring forth. They see a portentous 
 destiny written in the stars. Every crowned 
 head in Europe sleeps at night on a pillow 
 stuffed with thorns, and nightmares gallop 
 through their slumbers. 
 
 In the sixteenth verse of our lesson-chapter 
 you read of Herod's rage. The wise men 
 mocked him. They did not return to tell him 
 what they had discovered. "And when Herod 
 saw that he was mocked of the wise men, he 
 was exceeding wroth. " And he put out his 
 hand to turn aside the manifest purposes of 
 God. He would not have God to upset his 
 (Herod's) plans. He would beat God down. 
 He presumed to lay his impotent finger on 
 the spoke of God's great wheel. And the wheel 
 broke him! 
 
 The king cannot always have his way, and 
 it is well he cannot. Suppose that Herod 
 could have had his way, the Child Jesus would 
 have been slain in His babyhood, and there 
 would not be one ray of sunshine todav play- 
 ing over human history. 
 
'PEACE" 13 
 
 The Herods of Europe have decreed war, 
 but with God belong the issues of battle. The 
 kings cannot say what the end shall be. God 
 will determine what the end shall be. 
 
 We in the United States have done with 
 hereditary kings. We have learned that we 
 dare to trust one another. Mr. Gilbert K. 
 Chesterton, the British essayist, said yester- 
 day in one of our newspapers: "Americans 
 are not entitled to an opinion on the European 
 war because Americans do not understand the 
 peoples of Europe. " 
 
 We do understand them, sirs. We have 
 them right here amongst us. We have "gath- 
 ered the chosen of our seed from the hunted 
 of every crown and creed." 
 
 Every people in Europe is represented in 
 America. They live side by side in harmony 
 and brotherly^ kindness. They are next door 
 neighbors on our country farms and in our 
 towns and villages and in our congested cities. 
 
 They do not fight each other; they do not 
 hate each other. They share their mutual 
 joys and their mutual sorrows. Wherever the 
 Stars and Stripes blows on the free wind over 
 their heads they are like brothers. They have 
 learned to trust each other and not to watch 
 each other and to fear each other. And it is 
 because we have seen it with our own eyes, 
 men and women out of every kindred and na- 
 tion and tongue and people dwelling together 
 like brothers and sisters under one flag, with- 
 out any king over them, or any titled aristoc- 
 racy to wrong them and embitter them, that 
 we feel that we are capable of giving sane and 
 
14 "PEACE" 
 
 wise counsel to the battling factions of Eur- 
 ope. 
 
 We do understand these beloved peoples. 
 We understand them better than Mr. Chester- 
 ton understands them, better than any crown- 
 ed monarch in Europe understands them, be- 
 cause we have seen them tried in the fire, we 
 have tested them, and we know that it is true 
 that God "hath made of one blood all nations 
 of men that dwell on all the face of the earth," 
 and He made them not to suspect one another 
 as Herod would teach them to do, but to love 
 one another, to help one another, and to dwell 
 together in unity. 
 
 We Americans say it, that no empire that is 
 propped up by bayonets and inflated by can- 
 non-smoke can permanently survive; and any 
 Goliath that struts out in armor-plate and 
 boasts of death-dealing engines and guncot- 
 ton and lyddite shells, will be met some day 
 by the flat stone out of the sling of the peas- 
 ant boy, and will go down to ignominious 
 death. 
 
 It was left to a mere handful of men in 
 Europe to say that this war should be fought. 
 Were not the hundreds of thousand of boys 
 who were to be slaughtered in this tragedy en- 
 titled to say something as to whether this war 
 should be or should not be? Ought not the 
 right to speak be given to the men who are to 
 be doomed to die? For ages upon ages the 
 crowned despots have played with the lives 
 of men with the same coolness and poise that 
 gamesters exhibit when playing with the in- 
 animate figures on a chessboard. 
 
 May not we hope that Imperialism is going 
 
"PEACE" 15 
 
 now to be destroyed? That Kaisers and Czars 
 and Emperors are going to be abolished? That 
 military oligarchies are going to disappear? Is 
 not the doom of autocratic government even 
 now sounding? Has not militarism survived 
 too long? Have not the plain people of Eur- 
 ope been kept out of their own too long? 
 
 You and I, sirs, who are standing here, may 
 see the going out of the last crowned head in 
 the world before we taste of death! 
 
 There are journalists who assume to be able 
 to tell us how this war is going to end. There 
 are bold interpreters of the signs of the times 
 who assure us that this will be the last war 
 that ever will shake the world. 
 
 How do they know? Have not the wise 
 books been telling us for many years that 
 there never could be and there never would 
 be a great war again? When I read a book 
 fifteen years ago by a Polish banker, Mr. 
 Bloch, "Is War Now Impossible," in which 
 he showed by mathematics that no great war 
 could ever again be fought, I believed him. 
 When I read Count Tolstoi's books ten years 
 ago on the dyino- out of the war spirit, I be- 
 lieved him. When I read Mr. Norman An- 
 gell's book, "The Great Illusion, " four years 
 ago, assuring us that the last great war had 
 probably been fought, I believed him. When 
 I read Wilhelm Lamszus's blood red book one 
 year ago, "The Human Slaughter-House," a 
 book that is sickening with the smell of iodo- 
 form and the odor of blood, and that shows 
 that war is illogical and inhuman, I shuddered 
 and acquiesced. When I read President Jord- 
 an's book last fall, "The Unseen Empire," I 
 
16 "PEACE" 
 
 endorsed every line of it. I believed in the soul 
 of my soul that war was an anachronism, that 
 war was over and done with. And then this 
 war came and my faith in the logic of books 
 was unsettled. 
 
 How do you know that this war that is 
 raging now is going to be the final war? And 
 how do you know in advance how it is going 
 to end? 
 
 There are many whose sympathies for one 
 side or the other in this conflict are very 
 marked. There are many who believe they 
 know which side they wish to win. I do not 
 know where my own sympathies are; and I 
 do not know which army ought to win. 
 
 We are told on the one hand that if the 
 Germans win we shall have all Europe sub- 
 merged under a great military despotism; 
 while if the allies win there will be a Cossack 
 Europe with the Czar of all the Russias as the 
 dominant man in European civilization. Mr. 
 Begbie in a conversation with Mr. Angell thus 
 pictures the war's progress: "Russia will call 
 a million sixteenth century peasants from the 
 fields, and Germany will mow them down. 
 Another million takes their place. Death again. 
 Another million. And yet another million of 
 these sixteenth century peasants. And when 
 it is all over those who are left will go back 
 to their fields .... Happy the Russian peas- 
 ant who will go back to his sixteenth century 
 and his field, telling the time by the sun's 
 shadow." 
 
 My sympathies are everywhere. I have no 
 hate for the sixteenth century Russian peasant- 
 boy, the low-browed, uninstructed lad, patient, 
 
"PEACE" 17 
 
 ox-like. He is my brother. I have no hate for 
 the French boy, who is fighting in the trenches 
 in water to his waist. He is my brother. I 
 have no hate for the valiant English boy ,who 
 faces the guns that are spurting death. He is 
 my brother. I have no hate for the German 
 boy who believes in his soul that he is turning 
 back destruction from his beloved Fatherland. 
 He is my brother. The horror of it is that they 
 are brothers who are struggling, and the 
 Father is looking on! 
 
 And the Father cares how it turns out. He 
 is more concerned than you are. He cares more 
 for. how it will end then you do. They are 
 His Children who are locked in the death- 
 grapple. 
 
 Hope as you please; give your sympathies 
 to which armed host you please, the God who 
 is looking on will decide the issues and His 
 decision will be just. The end of it may be 
 something that no living man can forecast. 
 The guess of the man in the street is as likely 
 to be right as the guess of the man in the 
 pulpit. But of this be assured, my people, God 
 is looking on, and God will decide what the 
 end shall be. 
 
 The real Conquerors at last will be those 
 who are most skilled, not in the arts of War 
 but in the arts of Peace. 
 
 A few years ago I saw in Philadelphia a 
 great painting and large, in which the artist 
 had attempted to portrav the Glory of War. 
 The title of the painting was "The Conqur- 
 ors. 
 
 In the foreground War-Generals were com- 
 ing towards you, some on horses, some in bat- 
 
18 "PEACE" 
 
 tie-chariots, and you could almost hear the 
 rumbling of rolling wheels and the champing 
 of iron bits. The characters in the picture 
 were unnamed, but you looked not long until 
 their names dawned upon you. 
 
 There in the front rank, I said to myself, 
 were Alexander of Macedon, Julius Caesar of 
 Rome, Hannibal of Carthage, Cyrus of Persia, 
 Semiramis of Nineveh, Attila of Hungary, 
 Wellington of England, Bonaparte of France. 
 
 Standing there and looking long at the vast 
 procession coming towards me rank on rank 
 I thought I could see Leonidas with set teeth ; 
 Charlemagne with his long scowl ; Philip the 
 Second with foam on his lip ; William the Con- 
 queror in brazen helmet; Genghis Khan with 
 scarlet sword. 
 
 On either side of the riders, prone on the 
 ground, as far back as the eye could penetrate, 
 I saw the long swaths of the dead piled in 
 heaps, with the chariot wheels rolling over 
 them. Above the dead hovered a brooding 
 cloud ; above the mounted Generals danced 
 an aurora of golden fire. 
 
 Those were the Conquerors. They were 
 masters of the art of destruction, and that 
 made them great. 
 
 I thought while I stood there, and I have 
 often thought since, of another picture that 
 might be painted of the Conquerors. But in 
 my imaginary picture my Conquerors were 
 Helpers of men, not slayers of men. 
 
 Here I placed Faust and Guttenberg with 
 their little printing press;, Watt and Stevenson 
 with their rude locomotive, Galileo with his 
 
"PEACE" 19 
 
 telescope, Humphrey Davy with his safety- 
 lamp. 
 
 Here I placed Howe with his sewing ma- 
 chine, Morse with his telegraph instrument, 
 Franklin with his kite, Field with his submar- 
 ine cable, Whitney with his cotton gin. 
 
 Here were Edison and Tesla and Marconi 
 pouring out blessings of invention. Here were 
 Pasteur and Koch and Kelvin and Ehrlich and 
 MetchnikofI and Roentgen and Morton and 
 Lister with their hands full of healing for their 
 kind. 
 
 To myself I called that a fairer picture of the 
 Conquerors, for these men were Builders, and 
 all around them was the music of Commerce 
 and of the Arts of Peace. 
 
 And then I dared to think of a third picture 
 of the Conquerors, and this was the picture. 
 In the center of it stood the shining cross of 
 One who had been crucified, and beside it 
 stood the Christ. Near to Him stood James 
 and John, Peter and Paul, Stephen and Philip 
 — men who counted not their life dear unto 
 themselves. 
 
 Here were the blessed martyrs, a host I 
 could not count, with eyes turned heavenward 
 and ecstasy upon their faces. Here were the 
 Reformers, stalwart men who spoke out when 
 it was perilous to speak out, Huss and Cran- 
 mer, Savonarola and Luther, Zwinglius and 
 Knox, Wyclif and Jerome. Here were Mis- 
 sionaries, men who had looked in the faces of 
 wild men — Saint Patrick and Saint Augustine; 
 Carey and Livingstone ; Adoniram Judson and 
 Chinese Gordon ; Hudson Taylor and Father 
 
20 "PEACE" 
 
 Damien — men who went up to victory out of 
 great tribulation. 
 
 That was my last picture of the Conquerors, 
 and all around them stood an innumerable 
 company with songs on their lips and faces 
 that gazed into a blessed hereafter on the other 
 side of the stars. 
 
 This Gospel of Jesus is destined to be the 
 Conqueror. The Gospel of Hate will continue 
 to stamp its hard hoof on our planet until the 
 Gospel of Christ shall have subdued and mas- 
 tered human anger and shall have made of it 
 an obsolete thing. War will not totally dis- 
 appear until the Strong Son of God shall reign 
 supreme in every human heart. 
 
 God the All-Merciful! Earth hath forsaken 
 Thy ways of blessedness, slighted Thy Word ; 
 Bid not Thy wrath in its terrors awaken! 
 Give to us Peace in our time, O Lord! 
 
 God the All-Righteous One ! Man hath defied 
 
 Thee; 
 Yet to eternity standeth Thy Word! 
 Falsehood and wrong shall not tarry beside 
 
 Thee, 
 Give to us Peace in our time, O Lord! 
 
RED BLOOD 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 
 (Price Ten Cents) 
 
Red Blood Is Red 
 
 <£>r*^> 
 
 By 
 REV. WILLIAM H. FISHBURN, D.D. 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in West Adams Presbyterian 
 
 Church, Los Angeles, California, 
 
 April 28, 1918 
 
Published by order of the Session. 
 
Red Blood Is Red 
 
 Matt. 17:20, "If ye have faith as fc 
 grain of mustard seed, v Ve shall s%?\u\tq. 
 this mountain, Remove hence! . . 
 
 And it shall remove.*' 
 
 As some persons interpret these words of 
 Jesus, they must seem like the veriest undi- 
 luted nonsense. "Ye shall say unto this moun- 
 tain, 'Remove hence T and it shall remove." 
 
 Walk to your door and command Mt. Lowe 
 to remove. Charge Mt. Wilson to vanish. Or- 
 der the Sierra Madre range to disappear. Will 
 they go? They will not! 
 
 The kind of Faith that would look calmly 
 out of its door and issue orders to the moun- 
 tains would never make them go, but the Faith 
 that makes plans and prepares blue-prints and 
 uses spades and pick-axes and blasting powder 
 will remove mountains. 
 
 Our Lord is not thinking about mountains 
 of clay and rock and gravel. Anybody with 
 the tools of labor can remove that sort of 
 mountain. He is thinking about mountains of 
 evil ; mountains of obstruction that get in the 
 path of every forward-looking person ; moun- 
 tains of difficulty; mountains of tragedy that 
 strike through human lives, and the like, — 
 they are the mountains that can be moved out 
 of the way by nothing but a giant faith, a 
 masterful, red-blooded faith, a faith that be- 
 lieves in God and translates its belief into 
 work. 
 
 Jesus is not calling attention to the little- 
 
ness of the mustard seed ; He is calling at- 
 tention to the immense power that' resides in 
 it in spite of its littleness. He does not say, 
 "If ye have feith as a grain of sand," or "If 
 ye have faith as a grain of dust." They are 
 lifeless. The mustard seed is alive. 
 
 Maybe, if we had a microscope of greater 
 magnifying power, we might look into that 
 little speck of a thing called a mustard seed 
 and see a living pulse beating in the very cen- 
 ter of it. Every molecule, every atom within 
 this tiny shell works, works mightily, works 
 harmoniously. Somewhere within it is life, 
 potent, unconquerable life, life that will burst 
 through this husk and multiply itself a thou- 
 sand-fold. 
 
 The mustard seed is a little vegetable dy- 
 namo, packed from center to circumference 
 with power. And faith, the kind of faith that 
 our Lord says can remove mountains, turns a 
 man into a human dynamo. 
 
 Mountains to be removed by Faith, — there is 
 a chain of mountains stretching across Europe 
 and half way across Asiatic Russia, — moun- 
 tains of imperialism, mountains of tyranny, 
 mountains of oppression, mountains of brutal- 
 ity, — and all of them are going to be made 
 level with the ground in your time and mine, 
 and they are going to be leveled by Faith. But 
 it is the kind of faith that resides in the mus- 
 tard seed, living faith, vital faith, — faith of the 
 kind that builds ships, and airplanes, and can* 
 non, and machine guns, and rifles, — that 
 forges swords and bayonets, — that sends forth 
 man-power, — faith that is going to win be- 
 cause it believes and lives its faith in its life. 
 
 Some of you have a wrong mental picture 
 of faith. You think of it as a quiet man sit- 
 4 
 
ting in a cushioned chair and getting things 
 done because he hopes and expects and waits. 
 That is not faith. That is religious laziness. 
 Faith is a man clad in war-harness, squared 
 jaw, head down, teeth set, going over the top 
 with fixed bayonet, — fighting for the rights of 
 man, — ready to give his blood for the rights 
 of man. That is faith. That is the faith that 
 removes mountains. 
 
 A great many of our artists have confound- 
 ed faith with trust. They portray faith as 
 tranquility. Faith is not tranquility ; it is trust 
 that is tranquility. You have seen that fine 
 engraving of a little child kneeling beside a 
 crib, uplifted eyes, folded hands, a beam of 
 morning sunshine illuminating the sweet face, 
 — and the picture is called "Faith." That is 
 not faith ; it is trust. 
 
 A picture of real faith is Jacob, there in 
 the dark by the brook Jabbok, wrestling 
 through the long night with a mighty angel, 
 wrestling until his thews and sinews snap and 
 his bones are out of joint. A picture of real 
 faith is the strong Christ bowed there in the 
 Garden of Gethsemane, bowed all along upon 
 the ground, praying, praying, praying to the 
 Father until His sweat is like great drops of 
 blood falling down to the ground. 
 
 Faith and Trust must not be confounded. 
 Faith is no more like" Trust than nitroglycerin 
 is like oil of roses ; than a naked sword is like 
 an olive branch; than an eagle is like a dove. 
 Faith is alive. Faith without works is dead. 
 So is a clock. So is a watch. A clock or a 
 watch without works is dead. Faith without 
 works is dead. Faith, the kind of faith that 
 our Lord Jesus taught earnest men to have, 
 is the thing that makes all other things go. 
 
 S. 
 
We Americans are a people at war. We 
 are facing the mountains of Kaiserism which 
 is Prussianism which is diabolism, — and com- 
 manding it in God's name to go, — to be cast 
 into the midst of the sea. But it is not going 
 to go because we talk to it or write letters to 
 it or issue order to it, but only because we 
 smite it and pierce it and stab it and wound it 
 with a sword that drips blood at every stroke 
 and every thrust. 
 
 The Sword of Faith is a red sword. It is a 
 sword that draws blood. "Without shedding 
 of blood," says this Book, "there is no re- 
 mission/' Everything we win we win with 
 the precious coin of blood drops. The only 
 money that has purchased our progress, our 
 civilization, our growth upward and God-ward, 
 is the red money that comes out of the veins 
 of living men. Faith means the shedding of 
 blood. To convince yourself of that, read the 
 Faith Chapter, the 11th of Hebrews, and see 
 how that chapter runs red with the blood of 
 heroes, — men and women, — whose deeds God 
 has put on the tablets of everlasting remem- 
 brance. 
 
 Faith does not mean just "standing fast;" 
 it means doing things. To stand fast in one 
 place is not enough. You must be "carrying 
 on." The boy Casabianca stood, "stood fast" 
 on the burning deck, and then there was a 
 loud noise and "the boy, Oh, where was he?" 
 
 Our Lord Jesus did not just stand fast. He 
 moved. He went into peril. He faced angry 
 men. He spoke the truth to men's faces in 
 words that stung like a whiplash of fire. 
 
 I wish from the heart of me that no artist 
 had ever attempted to paint a picture of Jesus. 
 Jesus was not like the gentle and velvety pic- 
 6 
 
tures represent Him to have been. He was a 
 majestic Man. He made sacrifices. He was 
 ready to die for what He believed. He did 
 die for what He believed. 
 
 Sirs, you must not imagine that Jesus went 
 tip-toeing through the world softly and gently 
 lest He wake somebody up. He woke every- 
 body up. He was the Lion of the Tribe of 
 Judah. He was the strongest figure that ever 
 walked through human history. His master- 
 ful presence drove bargaining Jews out of 
 the temple and with His strong hand He over- 
 turned their money-tables and scattered their 
 treasured coins on the marble floor. His up- 
 lifted hand turned back the mob on the night 
 of the betrayal and they fell before Him with 
 their lips in the dust. Jesus is strong! He 
 is the Man ! He is mighty ! He is the Mas- 
 ter! He is the center of our Faith. Looking 
 at Him, imitating Him, we become possessed 
 of the faith that removes mountains. 
 
 Walk beside Jesus and He will not take 
 you through the easy places, He will lead 
 you through the hard places, through the dan- 
 gerous places, through the places of pain and 
 sadness, through the places of storm and bat- 
 tle, — He went through all of them Himself, — 
 but He will be beside you all the time, the 
 Strong Son of God, to shield you and to lead 
 you safe through into the Great Light! 
 
 You cannot remove mountains by sitting in 
 your parlor in a rocking chair and trying to 
 think them out of existence. You cannot say 
 a form of words over them like the presti- 
 digitators do: "Exi! Exi! hocus pocus! Abra- 
 cadabra !" and expect them to go. Jesus never 
 taught that the kind of faith that would re- 
 move mountains was of the type that would 
 
 7 
 
make you cozy and comfortable. He taught 
 that His kind of faith would lead you into 
 life's hard battles, but it would give you joy, 
 the joy of conquest, the joy of final victory. 
 
 We have a hymn that says : 
 "Must I be carried to the skies 
 
 On flowery beds of ease, 
 While others fought to win the prize, 
 
 And sailed through bloody seas?" 
 
 There are those who sing that hymn as 
 though they scorned all thought of ease, and 
 then, immediately after, close the hymn book 
 and go out and live the sort of life that proves 
 that they want to get to heaven in the easiest 
 way, without any toil or any blood or any sac- 
 rifice. 
 
 They will tell you that they feel safe; that 
 they have so much faith in God that they are 
 sure everything is going to come out all right ; 
 and that the mountain of Kaiserism is going 
 to be removed ; and that you mustn't worry 
 about it; and that everything is going to be 
 just perfectly lovely. 
 
 To feel safe in the hours through which we 
 are now passing is not a display of faith in 
 God; it is a display of foolhardiness ; it is a 
 display of credulity. We have been safe up 
 to this moment from the direct attacks of the 
 Huns not on account of our foolhardy faith, 
 but on account of Great Britain's wall of steel 
 battleships. And those who feel safe just 
 now are dreaming a fool's dream; are living 
 in an idiot's paradise. 
 
 Doubtless some of these persons are pious; 
 but the presence of piety in a heart does not 
 prove that one has good common sense. I 
 have known persons who seemed to me to be 
 
as righteous as Abraham, who did not possess 
 the brains of a rabbit. 
 
 The opposite of faith is not doubt. Doubt 
 is a passive thing. The opposite of faith is 
 unbelief. Unbelief is an active thing. 
 
 If you have lived through the past four 
 years without any doubts, without walking 
 out at night under the stars and having your 
 mind torn and rent with doubt, without being 
 stunned and dizzy now and then with doubt, 
 — it is not a sign that you have strong faith, 
 it is a sign that you do not possess a reason- 
 ing sense. But real faith, the faith that is able 
 to remove mountains, seizes the doubts and 
 fights them and overcomes them and looks 
 past them to God, and then goes on battling 
 and believing in spite of the doubts. 
 
 Keep it in your minds, sirs, that faith is 
 not a virtue of the pacifist, of the slacker. 
 Faith does not make the pacifist and the 
 slacker what they are. The lack of a spinal 
 column makes them what they are. 
 
 An enterprising butcher had an advertise- 
 ment in your paper yesterday, "Backbones, 
 17 cents." His store ought to have been 
 crowded to the walls by the pacifists and the 
 slackers. 
 
 People with pink tea in their veins, people 
 who are afraid to fight and then blame it on 
 their religion, people with thin, watery blood, 
 must not think of thesmselves as red-blood 
 people. 
 
 Real red blood is red, it is never pacifist; it 
 is never neutral; it is never watery and thin; 
 it is red ; it is vital ; it is alive. 
 
 It is your good fortune, my people, and 
 mine, to be citizens of the United States of 
 
America, a great Republic. A Republican form 
 of Government is the highest form of Govern- 
 ment ever devised by man, but it can really 
 govern none but the highest form of people. 
 A Republic has no machinery to strike back 
 at the pacifist and slacker and the spy and the 
 traitor. A Republic is slow; it is patient; it 
 waits. Mr. Daniels, Secretary of the Navy, 
 at the Governor's meeting in Washington on 
 April 7th, said: "The greatest criticism heard 
 is against the timorous attitude of our Na- 
 tional Government towards treason." Speak- 
 ing of the slackers and the spies, he said : "We 
 will put the fear of God into the hearts of 
 those who live among us and fatten upon us, 
 and are not Americans." 
 
 Now I am sure that we will not go on for- 
 ever permitting the Hun sympathizers to 
 launch their Red Rhetoric at the United 
 States, and then punish them by giving them 
 a nice place to sleep and plenty to eat in the 
 internment stockades at the expense of our 
 loyal people. When agitators have defied 
 American public opinion too far, American 
 sentiment will kill them like the lightning and 
 wreck them like the tempest. 
 
 Our splendid American boys who have gone 
 to the front and who are going to the front, — 
 God has endowed them with the Faith that is 
 vital, the Faith that throbs with life, the Faith 
 that will cast the mountains into the sea. We 
 are proud of them. We believe in them. We 
 glory in them. 
 
 But, too, we are proud of the men of Europe 
 who are our associates in this war. We are 
 proud of the Italians fighting on the frozen 
 heights, fighting in the snow. We are proud 
 of the British. 
 
 10 
 
Some persons used to say sneeringly, "The 
 British do not fight; they get everybody else 
 to do their fighting." But, looking at Sir 
 Douglas Haig and his magnificent Britons 
 standing with their backs to the wall, aided by 
 Canadians and Australians and South Africans 
 and New Zealanders ; — looking at the Scottish 
 regiments from the hills, whom the Huns call 
 the "Ladies from Hell," on account of their 
 kilts, — we feel that the British are bone of our 
 bone and flesh of our flesh, and worthy of ev- 
 ery tribute our lips can speak. 
 
 And the French! Mr. Harvey in his "War 
 Weekly" says: "France scarcely speaks. She' 
 is too busy fighting!" 
 
 "France, that divine marvel, mystery, mir- 
 acle among the nations, — France, the voluble, 
 the volatile, the mercurial, the capricious, — 
 France gives no sign of her martyrized dis- 
 tress." 
 
 "Bleeding at every pore, burdened beyond 
 all credence of endurance, she sets her face as 
 a flint and her heart as adamant, and has no 
 word of complaint, no word of repining, no 
 word of reproach, — no word save the grim 
 growl beneath her sobbing breath: "They 
 shall not pass !" These are the men out of the 
 nations that with the help of American boys 
 will remove the mountain. 
 
 We, as Americans, do not want to take from 
 the Hun anything that of right belongs to the 
 Hun. We do not want his house, nor his wife, 
 nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor 
 his ox, nor his ass, nor anything that is his. 
 But we want decency. We want the right to 
 live righteously and justly and soberly before 
 God. 
 
 We want to chase out of the world the most 
 11 
 
debased being who ever polluted the atmos- 
 phere of this planet by inhaling it. 
 
 This is not a war. It is a tiger-hunt. We 
 are striking at man-eating tigers. When we 
 have destroyed Prussianism we shall have de- 
 stroyed the most direful evil in all human 
 time. Wasn't it Napoleon Bonaparte who 
 used to say : " Prussia was hatched from a 
 cannon ball? , ' 
 
 America is in this war. She dared not stand 
 neutral any longer. Maybe she stood neu- 
 tral too long. Assuredly had not America 
 put her hand to the sword, the very paving- 
 stones in the streets would have cried out 
 against her. 
 
 Do you know how great is the crisis at this 
 moment? Are you reading the books that 
 tell you the truth about the war? Mr. Curtin's 
 book, "The Land of Deepening Shadow/' a 
 terrible and pitiful book, shows you the real 
 Germany, the Germany of fact and not of fic- 
 tion, the Hun with his mask stripped off, 
 showing him as he is; "The Crime,' , one of 
 the most able books of the war, written by a 
 German, against Germany. Only the first vol- 
 ume of "The Crime" has issued from the press. 
 A second volume is to follow. 
 
 "Private Peet— Two Years in Hell and Back 
 With a Smile," — a book that will keep you up 
 after your bedtime hour. 
 
 "German Atrocities," by Newell Dwight 
 Hillis, a book that will send your blood ham- 
 mering through your veins like liquid fire. 
 
 Read all of these books if you have the time, 
 read some of them if you lose a few hours of 
 sleep, and you will feel that the Republican- 
 ism of America is needed just now in the 
 12 
 
World and that our flag with its Stars and 
 Stripes needs to mingle its colors with the 
 other flags of World-freedom to remove the 
 mountain of tyranny and brutality from the 
 earth forever and forever. 
 
 "There is something in our Flag 
 
 And the little burnished Eagle 
 That is more than emblematic; 
 
 Something glorious and regal. 
 If that flag goes down to ruin, 
 
 Time will then, without a warning, 
 Turn the dial back to midnight, 
 
 And the world must wait till morning. ,, 
 
 Our church is one out of three hundred 
 churches in Los Angeles which has been asked 
 to hold a patriotic service either at the hour 
 of morning or of evening worship. Three 
 hundred ministers in Los Angeles are sup- 
 posed to be standing up in their pulpits today 
 and making a drive for Liberty Bonds. It has 
 been found necessary to help to awaken the 
 people through appeals from the platform. 
 
 There are persons in our city who cannot 
 subscribe for Liberty Bonds, — invalids who 
 are unable to win their daily bread; aged per* 
 sons who are living on an annuity that is so 
 narrow that they are next door to want; per* 
 sons whose occupation is taken from them by 
 the stoppage of work in their departments. 
 But there are persons who fail to contribute 
 from sheer indifference; some who fail be- 
 cause of the insane love of money; some who 
 fail because they see in such a contribution a 
 great sacrifice. 
 
 Sacrifice? What do you call a sacrifice? 
 What have they given, those fifty-eight be- 
 loved boys, whose stars are on our Service 
 
 13 
 
Flag? They have offered their lives as a sac- 
 rifice. For us, for the saving of our nation, 
 they will march undaunted into the roaring 
 red flame of war! 
 
 Sacrifice? What do you call a sacrifice? 
 What have their dear ones given who have 
 seen these boys march away in their beautiful 
 young manhood — appointed to death in the 
 Great Finger beckon? 
 
 Do we who have given only money, who 
 have even given largely of money, do we re- 
 alize what is meant by sacrifice? 
 
 If you were in England today, sir, you 
 would not be asked to buy a Liberty Bond. 
 Thirty per cent of your income would be 
 taken out of your hand in war tax — thirty dol- 
 lars out of every one hundred dollars of in- 
 come; with an income of two thousand dol- 
 lars your tax bill would be six hundred dol- 
 lars. England would not ask you for it. Eng- 
 land would take it and not say "thank you." 
 That may come to pass in the United States. 
 Our Government has the right to compel us- 
 to give. 
 
 They told me at Liberty Loan headquar 
 ters yeterday of a calculation made by Mr. 
 Leslie Henry, one of the speakers. He fig- 
 ured it out that if a man of substance is ac- 
 customed to getting seven per cent on his in- 
 vestments, he receives seventy dollars on the 
 investment of one thousand dollars. In buy- 
 ing four and one-quarter per cent Liberty 
 Bonds, he loses $27.50 on each one thousand 
 dollars he withdraws from a seven per cent 
 investment. 
 
 Now, consider the enlisted boy. The aver- 
 age monthly earnings of the boy of war age 
 
 14 
 
is $65.00. The boy enlists for thirty dollars 
 per month. He gives to the Government thir- 
 ty-five dollars per month, besides risking his 
 life. That is four hundred and twenty dollars 
 per year given to the Government by the boy. 
 It would be necessary for the man of sub- 
 stance to buy fourteen thousand dollars worth 
 of Liberty Bonds before he has equaled the 
 money gift of every enlisted boy, besides the 
 fact, that, as Mr. Henry phrased it, "He saves 
 his hide by staying at home." 
 
 I wish you could understand that we are 
 not giving when we buy Liberty Bonds; we 
 are making a loan to our Government. We 
 still have the money after we buy the Bond, 
 and the Government pays us for the use of it. 
 Here is a tin box with a slot in it. You put 
 one hundred dollars through the slot, and 
 leave it alone for one year. Touch a button 
 at the end of the year and seventeen twenty- 
 five cent pieces drop out into your hand — and 
 you still have your original one hundred dol- 
 lars while the United States Government has 
 the use of it. 
 
 I believe in this war as a Holy War be- 
 cause we are battling for cleanness and de- 
 cency and the sacred rights of mankind. The 
 Lord of Hosts is with us. 
 
 No one can tell us when this war will end. 
 Former President Taft said a week ago: "I 
 am in favor of amending the draft law so that 
 we can raise an army of five millions of men 
 or six millions of men in two years ;" and he 
 added: "We won't win until this nation is a 
 house of mourning. We will have to go down 
 into the valley of the shadow of death, but 
 the result will be worth the cost." 
 
 15 
 
I have my own convictions that we are des- 
 tined to win this war. I feel certain that our 
 own soldier-boys will never cease their on- 
 ward drive until their triumphal cheers ring 
 and echo over the homes and castles and pal- 
 aces and cathedrals of Berlin, and, led by the 
 martial music of the nations, they march be- 
 hind the Stars and Stripes and the other Vic- 
 tory banners through the avenues and streets 
 of the captured city. 
 
 Free Tract Society Print, 
 746 Crocker St., Los Angeles, Cal., U. S. A. 
 
THORNS 
 
 WILLIAM H. FISHBURN 
 
Thorns 
 
 By 
 
 Rev. William H. Fishburn, D. D. 
 
 A Sermon Delivered in West Adams Pres- 
 byterian Church, Los Angeles California, 
 March 9, 1913 
 
THE SECRET THORN 
 
 2 Cor. 12:7. "There was given to me a 
 Thorn in the flesh." 
 
 Was Paul's experience unique? Was he 
 the only person to whom God ever gave a 
 thorn in the flesh? 
 
 There are five hundred and eighty-four mil- 
 lions of grown-up people in the world today, 
 and out of that five hundred and eighty-four 
 millions there are precisely five hundred and 
 eighty-four millions who imagine that to them 
 has been given a thorn in the flesh. 
 
 The delusion of many persons is that their 
 particular thorn is a little sharper, penetrates a 
 little deeper, irritates a little more cruelly than 
 anybody else's thorn. 
 
 For a good many centuries students wise 
 and students foolish have been trying to find 
 out what was Paul's "Thorn in the flesh." 
 Whole books have ibeen written to analyze 
 the matter. Good scholarship has been wasted 
 over the discussion. 
 
 We do not know what Paul's thorn was. 
 He never disclosed to anyone what it was. 
 It was a Secret thorn. The noble thing about 
 it was that he made it a Secret thorn. He 
 covered it up. He concealed it. And while 
 
"THORNS" 
 
 he never could forget for a moment the hidden 
 ache of It, nobody ever heard him speak of it 
 again. This one reference in our Scripture 
 lesson is the first reference and the last he 
 ever makes to it. 
 
 If you had met Paul you never would have 
 suspected that he carried a thorn in his flesh. 
 You would have met a man with a bright and 
 smiling face, a veritable "Glory-Face ;" a man 
 whose hand-grip would have so thrilled you 
 that you would have felt that a new inspira- 
 tion was entering into your life. 
 
 Paul's Letters are always full of joy, full 
 of manliness, full of music, full of the sweet 
 Presence of Jesus Christ, full of good cheer. 
 He never wastes any time telling about his 
 thorn. He has so many good things to tell 
 that no space is left for the telling of the 
 sinister and the unpleasant. Wherever he 
 preaches he preaches good news, and gladness, 
 and hope — but he never preaches about his 
 thorn. 
 
 Brave Paul ! Noble soul now passed into 
 the heavens ! Man of high courage who could 
 take scourging and stoning and imprisonment 
 without one whisper of remonstrance; saintly 
 man who could walk to execution with a song 
 of triumph on his lip — how do I honor him ! 
 
 He had his thorn — it wounded him, pierced 
 
"THORNS" 
 
 him, rended him — ibut he kept still about it. 
 It was his Secret thorn ! 
 
 You are aware that at first he wanted to 
 be delivered from the thorn. He prayed God 
 to take it away — p-rayed once, prayed twice, 
 prayed thrice — but the thorn remained. Was 
 his prayer answered? It was. God did not 
 take the thorn away. He did better than 
 that. He left the thorn in Paul's flesh, and 
 gave him grace to bear it. 
 
 Without prayer that thorn would have been 
 an irritant; after the prayer it became a stimu- 
 lant. It was that very thorn that made Paul 
 the majestic man he was. Had there been no 
 thorn in his flesh he could not have ascended 
 to the heights. His thorn humanized him. 
 The thorn directed his eyes to the sublime 
 vision in the third heaven ; and then it brought 
 him down and caused him to mingle with 
 suffering men and women in the earth. 
 
 All of us have our moments of vision. I 
 suspect that there is not one of us who has 
 not enjoyed his period of ecstasy. We rejoice 
 over the vision. We want the vision to last 
 always — but it does not last. The hours of 
 pain come. We get the vision — but we get 
 the thorn too. We lift up our faces to God 
 and give thanks for the vision; but we bow 
 down our faces and protest against the pain. 
 
"THORNS" 
 
 If we could have it as we wish it, life would 
 be all vision and no thorn. 
 
 Now, let us try to understand what is meant 
 by a "thorn in the flesh." Your little annoy- 
 ances, those fribbles of life, those petty vexa- 
 tions that, like gnats, disturb you for a mo- 
 ment and then fly away — they are not to be 
 spoken of as thorns in the flesh. 
 
 If you have a real, material thorn in your 
 material flesh you are aware of it; and, 
 like the material thorn, this unseen thorn 
 makes itself felt. You know it is there. You 
 may remove the mere material thorn and the 
 wound will heal over, but you cannot remove 
 the unseen thorn. It is something that will 
 remain with you as long as you dwell in the 
 earth. It is an ineradicable something, a 
 something that you must get grace from your 
 Lord to bear, or you cannot bear it at all. 
 
 It is a sort of Nemesis. It pursues you 
 throughout the daytime ; it sits on your pillow 
 at night; it haunts your dreams! You may 
 keep it secret; you may so hide it that no 
 one but yourself shall be aware of its exist- 
 ence — but in your own heart you shall always 
 feel the dead, dull pain of it. That is what 
 Paul carried. That is what he means when 
 he speaks of a "thorn in the flesh." 
 
 Many there be who nurse the trivial hurts 
 
"THORNS' 5 
 
 of life and call them thorns in the flesh. Per- 
 sons who have never had a big thorn are 
 likely to discover a little thorn, a spiritual or 
 mental thistle, and to magnify it. There are 
 multitudes who wish to be looked upon as 
 great sufferers. They manufacture troubles 
 and then adopt them as their own individual 
 troubles. They weigh the food they eat and 
 measure the water they drink. They count 
 their pulse-beats. They hear "death-bells." 
 They mark the number of persons of just 
 their own age who die suddenly. They walk 
 softly through the shadows. They deliber- 
 ately choose the gloom in preference to the 
 sunlight. Like King Solomon's pessimist in 
 the Book of Ecclesiastes, "they say of laugh- 
 ter, 'It is madness/ and of mirth, 'What good 
 is it?'" 
 
 Your physician calls such persons malinger- 
 ers. They are abnormal. Their diseases are al- 
 ways "peculiar." They inform you that they 
 are victims of a malady that "nobody under- 
 stands." As a matter of fact everybody "un- 
 derstands" them better than they think. They 
 are melancholy because they are able to ex- 
 tract a sort of joy out of melancholy. As 
 Mr. Froude used to say, "They could discover 
 no pleasure in life if it were not for their 
 miseries." 
 
 If you have read MJr. Thomas Bailey Al- 
 
"THORNS" 
 
 cirich's book, "The Stillwater Tragedy/' you 
 are acquainted with the Reverend Mr. Lang- 
 ley, the man who felt that it was undignified 
 and irreverent to smile. Mr. Aldrich says of 
 him, "If he had gone into tree-culture instead 
 of into the ministry, he would have planted 
 nothing but weeping willows." 
 
 You must have observed that the men and 
 women who utter the most vociferous com- 
 plaints are not the ones who have the heaviest 
 sorrows. Those whose hearts are breaking 
 with an imponderable grief are usually the 
 Silent ones. 
 
 It is the Unwounded hand that is lifted 
 highest in rebellion against God ; it is the little 
 sufferer, not the great sufferer, who most 
 loudly rehearses his woes. The hospital sur- 
 geon does not select out of the free clinic 
 for first attention the patients who make the 
 most noise. He knows better. He knows 
 that those who are brought in pale and speech- 
 less are the ones who need immediate care. 
 The noisy ones can wait until, after the wounds 
 of the silent ones are dressed. 
 
 Do you know that the most dangerous exer- 
 cise you can engage in is to fall to pitying 
 yourself? 
 
 Persons who pity themselves will cherish 
 the memory of a pin-prick, while those who 
 
"THORNS" 
 
 are brave will button their coats over a sword- 
 thrust and go resolutely on. 
 
 The other day I saw at Sixth and Spring 
 streets in our city a small and heavy-laden 
 newsboy on roller' skates. He was coming 
 along swiftly, stumbled on the car-track, and 
 fell with a crash, cutting his face and skinning 
 his knuckles, while his bundle of papers 
 was scattered. In a moment he was on his 
 feet, had collected his newspapers, and the 
 next moment he was gliding merrily down 
 Spring street on his roller skates as if nothing 
 had happened. An aged man leaning on a 
 cane was looking on, and he turned and said 
 to me, "If that had happened to me they would 
 have hauled me away in an ambulance. " That 
 boy did not pity himself. He accepted the 
 little hurts without a whimper. 
 
 St. Paul never pitied himself. He passed 
 his troubles iby as incidents, only incidents. 
 He did not brood over them. Here and there 
 in his Epistles he jests about his sufferings. 
 Once, at least, he makes a happy pun about 
 his failing eyesight. His burdens did not 
 crush him ; they made him. When his heart 
 was heaviest he laughed most. That verse 
 in Corinthians which is translated, "I am ex- 
 ceeding joyful in all our tribulation," may 
 be rendered this way, "I overabound with 
 
10 "THORNS" 
 
 cheerfulness at all our tribulation." When 
 Paul stood in the sunshine he "overabounded 
 with cheerfulness." When they thrust him 
 into a dark, underground dungeon he went 
 right on "overa'bounding with cheerfulness." 
 
 Many a little trouble rolls away if we make 
 light of it. But little troubles grow big and 
 grievous if we brood over them. We ought 
 to talk little about the chagrins and the dis- 
 appointments of life. Minor hurts may be 
 transformed into major hurts by telling them 
 over and over. They grow, like FalstafFs 
 "seven men in buckram." The tellers of the 
 tale become obsessed by it. 
 
 Many persons get to believing that they 
 are "all run down," when the thing that ails 
 them is that they are "all wound up," and 
 will not be silent long enough to let them- 
 selves run down. 
 
 We can laugh some of the paltry ills of 
 life away — even some of the larger ills. The 
 guide on one of your Sight-Seeing Automobiles 
 has lost the index finger of his right hand. It 
 is noticeable, and a tourist asked him how 
 he lost it. "I did not lose it," he replied, 4 T 
 have just worn it down to a stump pointing 
 out the lovely scenery." Were we to make 
 light of some of our adversities they would 
 vanish, and we should remember them only 
 as dreams that have passed away. 
 
"THORNS" 11 
 
 The magnifying of the little disorders of 
 life grows to be a habit and a pernicious habit, 
 displeasing to God and eminently disturbing 
 to wholesome and sane men and women. No- 
 body desires the companionship of the per- 
 petual murmurer. The foundation of fault- 
 finding is a morbid desire for sympathy, but 
 its end .is the utter extirpation of all sympathy. 
 Neurotics, paranoeics, who imagine them- 
 selves to be martyrs when they are not mar- 
 tyrs are amongst the pests of life that we bear 
 with only because we cannot escape. Was 
 it the poet Pindar, or was it another of the 
 Greek poets, who said, "Speak out thy woes 
 once, then hold thy peace?" 
 
 But let us not be guilty of supposing that 
 there are no real hurts from which men and 
 women suffer, hurts that cannot be laughed 
 away, hurts that will go on hurting in spite 
 of all our cheerfulness and merriment. My 
 people, there are real burdens, real sorrows. 
 There are real thorns in the flesh, thorns that 
 go so deep that they wound the soul. 
 
 You cannot escape from them by denying 
 the existence of them, as some unphilosophical 
 persons do. Those who deny the existence 
 of all pain are perhaps the most poignant suf- 
 ferers, because they have told themselves 
 what Plato used to call "the lie to the soul." 
 
12 "THORNS" 
 
 The soul knows better. The soul knows that 
 there is pain, much pain. You cannot solve 
 the problem of pain by assuming that there is 
 no problem of pain. There is a problem of 
 pain, sirs, and it is the one problem that 
 emerges, in spite of a shoddy psychology, into 
 every human life. 
 
 Paul confessed that he had a Secret thorn. 
 He confessed it, and then covered it up, hid 
 it forever from the sight of his fellowmen, but 
 he, himself, was aware of its presence. 
 
 Thorns have been iborne in Secret by many. 
 Somewhere there is an old German Romance 
 about a Hidden Fetter. 1 remember it too 
 obscurely to reproduce it fully, but it is some- 
 what to the effect that an aged gentleman, a 
 man above eighty years old, is found dead 
 on a street in Berlin, his home city. He is a 
 well-known citizen, a man of affairs, rich, pros- 
 perous, respected, honored. He has resided 
 in Berlin for fifty years. 
 
 But after he is dead they find riveted to 
 his ankle an iron fetter two inches broad and 
 half an inch thick. There are file-marks, 
 showing that many attempts have been made 
 to remove it. The link that used to hold the 
 chain-and-ball has been filed off — but the iron 
 fetter remains, imbedded in the flesh. 
 
 The people talk about the strange affair. 
 
"THORNS" 13 
 
 They recall what they know of the history of 
 the man for fifty years, eminent, upright, 
 scholarly, clean — but they are certain that 
 somewhere, at some time, that man was a 
 convict. By some legal process that iron 
 fetter was fastened there. Whence came the 
 man to Berlin fifty years ago? Who was he? 
 Of what crime was he adjudged guilty? These 
 questions are never answered. The man had 
 lived an irreproachable life in their midst for 
 half a century, and had given no sign that 
 he carried a brand — and his mystery is buried 
 with him in his grave. His was a Secret 
 thorn. But it was a Thorn! 
 
 In Miss Ellen Glasgow's "The Deliverance'' 
 you remember Christopher Blake, the aristo- 
 crat's son, who finds the family fortune gone, 
 and who works in secrecy for fifteen years 
 as a laborer on the estate which his father 
 once owned; works in secrecy in order to 
 hide from his two sisters and his blind mother 
 any knowledge of the fact that they are re- 
 duced to poverty. Blake's after character is 
 not good, but his fifteen years of heroic silence, 
 his patient bearing of the Secret thorn, throws 
 a halo over his sins. 
 
 Everybody has read Charles Lamb and en- 
 joyed him. Who has not spent hours of de- 
 light over Lamb's "Essays of Elia," his "Dis- 
 
14 "THORNS" 
 
 sertation Upon Roast Pig," his monograph 
 "On Poor Relations," his "Chapter on Ears," 
 his disquisition "On the Melancholy of Tail- 
 ors"? They abound in capital good sense 
 and overflow with a subtle humor that charms 
 the soul. 
 
 But Charles Lamb whose productions are 
 so full of wholesomeness had his thorn in 
 the flesh — a drooling father, a sister at times 
 violently insane, for whom he must provide 
 and over whom he must exercise guardianship 
 — but he made his thorn a Secret thorn. He 
 hid its irritation in the silence of his own soul. 
 
 My people, the sweetest music that blesses 
 our world came from men and women who 
 had learnt to suffer in silence and to be strong; 
 the literature that marches most majestically 
 came from men and women whose hearts were 
 pierced by a Secret thorn. 
 
 Why did Paul have his thorn in the flesh? 
 Himself tells you that it was good for him. 
 He tells you that he learnt to \hcmk God for 
 that very thorn. It brought him back to earth 
 and made him sympathetic with the hurts of 
 other men. 
 
 An angel from heaven could not come to 
 our earth and be a missionary to men. Angels 
 could not understand us. Why? Because 
 angels have never suffered, and therefore they 
 
"THORN'S" IS 
 
 could not feel for our hurts. He who will 
 heal the hurts of others must have been hurt 
 himself. The Apostle says of our Lord Jesus: 
 "We have not an High Priest which cannot 
 be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, 
 but one who was tried in all points as we 
 are." 
 
 The only one who can feel for man is a 
 man; the only man who can feel for a hurt 
 man is a hurt man. Jesus can heal our hurts 
 because He was hurt Himself. 
 
 The Paul of the Vision would have been out 
 of touch with humanity's woes, and God made 
 him the Paul of the Thorn in order to bring 
 him near to those who suffer. 
 
 What does that burdened soul, that bur- 
 dened soul whose life has been one long trag- 
 edy of unremittent suffering, know about the 
 joys of the third heaven? He wants to meet 
 the man who has been torn and pierced by 
 thorns — the man who knows what suffering 
 means! 
 
 It is the thorn-crown, my people, the thorn- 
 crown and the blood-drops on the dear head 
 of our Master that endear Him to thousands 
 of our race. In the face of the Man of Sor- 
 rows they see the trouble-lines and the grief- 
 marks, and it is the Face they yearn for, the 
 Face full of pity and of love for men and worn- 
 
16 "THORNS" 
 
 en who are down. God be praised for that 
 tear-stained face and that thorn-wreathed brow 
 that has been the wounded world's one Solace 
 for hundreds of years and will be the wounded 
 world's Healing for all the ages that are yet 
 to come. 
 
 "Lest I should be exalted above measure, 
 there was given to me a thorn in the 
 flesh." God made Paul the Man of the 
 Thorn. There have been mystics innumer- 
 able, men and women who have been in the 
 third heaven — our shelves are getting full of 
 their books. They have seen and heard un- 
 utterable things. They talk about heaven as 
 if it were in their back yard, and as if there 
 were no more troubles in the world. But 
 Paul did not permit his mysticism to make 
 him a mere dreamer. He did not remain in 
 the third heaven. Had he done so his name 
 might have been preserved in some quaint old 
 book as the Prince of the Mystics — and that 
 would be all. 
 
 But Paul was more than a mystic. He was 
 a man, a human man, a man who took his 
 place in the ranks and marched footsore and 
 weary along with the Brotherhood of Sorrow 
 — and it was his thorn that made him im- 
 mortal. 
 
 He thanked God for the thorn. So should 
 
"THORNS" 17 
 
 we, sirs; and so would we, could we see the 
 end from the beginning. Our sorrows do not 
 break us — they make us. That which w r e 
 shrink from, that which we try to push away 
 from us with shuddering aversion, oftentimes 
 turns out to be a rich and refined blessing. 
 It is by way of the Cross that we find the 
 Crown. Via Crucis, via Lucis. 
 
 Our blessed Lord Jesus shrank from the 
 Purple Cup in the Gethsemane Garden. He 
 besought the Father not to press that cup to 
 His lips; but He said, "Thy will, Thy will be 
 done" — and an angel came and comforted 
 Him. It is the Jesus who drank the bitter 
 cup, who bore that sorrow so sharp that "none 
 of the ransomed ever knew" how terrible it 
 was, who is the world's Saviour on account 
 of that cup, and who is worshipped by men 
 and angels because He drank that cup. 
 
 It is not as the Teacher, it is not as the 
 Miracle Worker, it is as the Supreme Sufferer 
 that Jesus reaches and saves* lost men and 
 lost women, men and women who otherwise 
 would go stumbling and staggering down into 
 the pit. They may not comprehend a Teach- 
 ing Christ, but they do comprehend a Suffer- 
 ing Christ. It is the Christ of the Thorns 
 who has won the world's heart. 
 
 Your sufferings are the making of you if 
 
18 "THORNS" 
 
 your eyes were but open to see it. What 
 you blindly call the harshness, the unpitying 
 cruelty of God, the failure to answer your 
 prayers in the way you want them answered, 
 is His most perfect wisdom. Your sorrows 
 bring out the hidden treasures that in no other 
 way could be brought out. 
 
 Travelers to Russia are shown at Sebastopol 
 a perennial spring of crystal water, and beside 
 the spring a marble pillar on the top of which 
 rests a rusted cannon-ball. During the Cri- 
 mean War that ball came over Jthe fortress 
 walls, tore its way through a rose-garden and 
 opened the spring, unknown before, which has 
 since refreshed the thirst of thousands. 
 
 And so from the gashes of what you call 
 sorrow and misfortune there may come joys 
 for others. Your beautiful rose-garden may 
 be spoiled for a moment, but the rose-garden 
 shall be built up again around the bubbling 
 spring. 
 
 The thorn in the flesh does not drive us 
 away from) God — it brings us near to God. 
 Little sorrows, little worries may enrage us 
 and make us impatient with God's plans; but 
 the great sorrows, the sorrows that rend our 
 hearts, the thorns that pierce to the dividing 
 asunder of soul and spirit — these bring us near 
 to God, and we fall on our knees and cry to 
 Him out of the depths. 
 
"THORNS" 19 
 
 Adversity, deep adversity, does not crush 
 the Christian's hope nor drive him away from 
 the Father; hut prosperity sometimes does 
 drive him away. It is not the man with the 
 thorn but the man without the thorn whose 
 soul is in peril. In high prosperity we may 
 grow away from Christ and the Church; we 
 may be intoxicated with the deceitfulness of 
 riches and go mad in our lust for pleasure. 
 Did we but understand it we should pray, 
 God, send me the thorn! Pierce me, wound 
 me, smite me — but take not Thy Holy Spirit 
 from me! 
 
 One of the mysteries about the thorn that 
 God sends is that it always seeks a vital spot. 
 It touches us where we would wish to be 
 exempt. It thrusts itself into the most sensi- 
 tive place. 
 
 The San Francisco earthquake struck the 
 vital spot, the commercial center of the city, 
 and did its furious will upon the richest and 
 noblest structures. When conflagrations at- 
 tack cities they seem to choose out with a 
 dreadful prevision the costly and the beautiful 
 things. 
 
 And is it not thus that the thorns enter 
 into men and women? Dean Swift, that tow- 
 ering genius, the man who needed a clear 
 mind, was stricken in his mind. Beethoven, 
 
20 'THORNS" 
 
 the world's peerless musical master, the man 
 who needed hearing more than he needed any- 
 thing else, was stricken with deafness. 
 
 Milton, the student, the reader, the writer, 
 the man that needed eyes, was smitten blind. 
 The Italian artist that needed his right hand 
 was paralyzed in his right hand. Cowper and 
 Goldsmith and Coleridge, who needed to be 
 cheerful, were sunken into brooding melan- 
 choly. 
 
 It is the fact that the thorn pierces that 
 faculty that we believe we need the most that 
 makes it seem intolerable. Beethoven might 
 have got along without eyesight, Milton with- 
 out hearing — but it is the way of the thorn 
 to enter where it may give us the most unrest 
 and to rob us of the very treasure that we 
 would surrender last of all. 
 
 You have your thorn, my brother, and you, 
 and you, and you. What is your thorn? May- 
 be it is the decay of your health. You per- 
 ceive day by day that you can bear less and 
 less when you need to bear more and more. 
 
 Maybe you are held in the clutches of debt, 
 a debt that you can see no way of discharging. 
 
 Maybe your thorn is poverty, poverty that 
 you cannot conceal. The thorn of Hard Times 
 is a thorn that hurts. 
 
 Maybe- you had hoarded up a little provision 
 
"THORNS" 21 
 
 for your old age and have seen your savings 
 all swept away, swallowed up by some mis- 
 adventure. 
 
 Maybe the one you loved, the one upon 
 whom you leaned, the one you looked to and 
 upon whom you had set your hopes has been 
 called out of your family circle and taken up 
 on high. 
 
 These and many similar sorrows are thorns 
 in the flesh. What shall you do with them? 
 How shall you bear them? Do what Paul 
 did. Cast yourself at God's feet. Pray! May- 
 be your thorn will not be taken away if you 
 do pray. Maybe it is not best that it shall 
 be taken away. 
 
 But this you will receive — you will receive 
 grace to bear your thorn and to go out and 
 look on life with a hopeful face. It has been 
 done. It is done by thousands of thorn- 
 wounded men and women. How many sweet 
 old people we know — pierced to the heart with 
 thorns — but bearing the smart in silence be- 
 cause the Christ of the Thorn is teaching 
 them. Pray, pray for the grace to bear thy 
 thorn. 
 
22 "THORNS" 
 
 "Where the rough road turns, and the valley 
 
 sweet 
 Smiles bright with its balm and bloom, 
 We'll forget the thorns that have pierced the 
 
 feet, 
 And the nights with their grief and gloom ; 
 And the sky will smile, and the stars will 
 
 beam, 
 And we'll lay us down in the light to dream. 
 
 "We shall lay us down in the bloom and light, 
 With a prayer and a tear for rest, 
 As tired children who creep at night 
 To the love of a mother's breast, — 
 And for all the grief of the stormy past 
 Rest shall be sweeter at last! at last! 
 
 "Sweeter because of the weary way 
 And the lonesome night and long, 
 While the darkness turns to the perfect day 
 With its splendor of light and song, — 
 The light that shall cheer us and bless us 
 
 and love us 
 And sprinkle the roses of heaven above us." 
 
When Iron Meets 
 Steel 
 
 ±yi 
 
 William H. Fishburn 
 
 ** 
 
"When Iron Meets Steel" 
 
 By 
 
 Rev. William H. Fishburn, D. D. 
 
 A Sermon delivered in West Adams Presbyterian 
 
 Church, Los Angeles, California, 
 
 February 2, 1913 
 
"When Iron Meets Steel" 
 
 Jeremiah, 15:12. "Shall common iron break 
 the Northern iron and the steel?" 
 
 There is at this moment a standing army 
 of four hundred thousand big, strong-armed 
 men working in the Iron Industries of the 
 United States. 
 
 Some are digging and blasting the ore out 
 of the hills, some are purifying it, refining it; 
 some are rolling it into plates, and tubes, and 
 bars, and rails ; others are converting it into 
 a thousand things, large and small, that are 
 essential to your every-day comfort and mine. 
 
 IRON — it is the universal metal ; it is found 
 in every country; it floats suspended in the 
 water of every sea. 
 
 IRON — it cleaves the soil for the seed of 
 the sower; it sings in the chorus with the 
 song of the reaper; it threshes the ripened 
 grain, it winnows it, it rolls it into flour, it 
 holds the loaf while heat turns it into bread. 
 On a stove of cast iron you cook your meals 
 in vessels of iron. 
 
'WHEX WON MEETS STEEL 55 
 
 IRON — it weaves, and knits, and cuts out, 
 and sews together your garments. 
 
 IRON — it protects your treasures in strong 
 vaults; it locks and unlocks your door; it se- 
 cures the floor under your foot, and the ceil- 
 ing over your head. 
 
 IRON — it provides the smooth pathway for 
 your railway trains; it covers your merchant- 
 ships and your battleships; it sounds in every 
 hammer stroke; it throbs in your mills and 
 machine-shops; it rumbles in your wheels; 
 it roars in your steam-engines ; it whirls in 
 your dynamos; it thunders in your printing- 
 presses. 
 
 IRON — you eat it in your food, and drink 
 it in your drink, and it beats in every drop 
 of your blood. IRON. 
 
 Somebody says there is iron enough in the 
 world to cover our globe, landsurface, water- 
 surface and all from pole to pole with a plate 
 of the metal twenty-two inches thick. It is 
 an unofficial statement, one of those hap- 
 hazard guesses we frequently hear uttered, 
 but I should not doubt it if it were said that 
 there is enough of it to cover this planet with 
 a shell of iron twenty-two feet thick, or twen- 
 ty-two miles thick. 
 
 Iron as rude nature produces it has no com- 
 mercial value, and if man were to leave iron 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 in its "state of nature" it would be worse than 
 a worthless thing, it would be an encumbrance, 
 a hindrance, a nuisance. 
 
 When early man, ages ago, found a hill of 
 iron, he went away from it. The land it oc- 
 cupied was sterile, dead, without grass, or tree 
 or flower. The very birds flew over it, and 
 flew past, seeking a more hospitable resting 
 place for their feet. 
 
 For many a century, for many an age, these 
 great hills of rusty iron did nothing but cum- 
 ber the ground. And then there came a time, 
 we know not when; there came a man, we 
 know not who — it is possible that his name 
 was Tubal-Cain — and the secret of the ages 
 was unlocked, Iron was taken out of the hills, 
 put through the fire, molded and beaten into 
 swords and spears, into plow-shares and prun- 
 ing-hooks, and the long Stone Age came to an 
 end, and the Iron Age began. 
 
 Hills of iron that formerly were an obstruc- 
 tion and a vexation were turned into a treas- 
 ure, a prize. 
 
 Last year, in the United States, there were 
 taken out of our iron mines ninety-eight mil- 
 lion dollars worth of ore; but after men had 
 smelted it, and refined it, and added brain and 
 muscle and sweat to it, it became worth two 
 billion and eighty-three million dollars. 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 In other words, every mass of ore that was 
 worth one dollar in the rough, became worth 
 twenty-one dollars after it had passed through 
 the refining and purifying and manufacturing 
 processes. 
 
 Nearly everybody who has traveled has 
 visited an iron blast-furnace and a steel plant. 
 Steel is a perfect alloy of iron and carbon; it 
 is a compound of iron that has been roasted in 
 a temperature of 2780 degrees, Fahrenheit, and 
 afterwards melted and boiled in a retort heated 
 to 4000 degrees. 
 
 The finest steel is made from wrought iron 
 that has been purified again and again in the 
 hot fire. After the bad alloys have been burnt 
 out of the ore, and the proper alloys have 
 been added, steel, hardened steel, becomes the 
 hardest and the most useful of metals. 
 
 Common iron has been almost driven out 
 of the market by the cheapening of steel-mak- 
 ing processes, like the Bessemer method. 
 
 Our Heavenly Father has taught man to 
 take the comparatively worthless, to pass it 
 through the flame of a cruel furnace, and to 
 turn it into the worthy and the useful. 
 
 "Shall the common iron break the Northern 
 iron and the steel?" This text gave trouble 
 to a former generation of Biblical interpre- 
 ters. If you will look into your commentaries 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 you will learn that even modern interpreters 
 are troubled about it. Indeed, if you will look 
 into your Revised version you will discover 
 that these latest students substituted the word 
 "brass" for the word "steel," and so turned 
 the passage into a tangle that it ceases to 
 have any meaning at all. 
 
 The impression prevails amongst many 
 learned persons that our remote ancestors had 
 no sense; and that they did not know how to 
 do complex things such as turning iron into 
 steel. The ancients had sense, much sense, 
 and they were able to do some astonishing 
 things in their crude and primitive way. 
 
 Mr. Wendell Phillips in his lecture on The 
 Lost Arts used to love to quote from Sir Wal- 
 ter Scott's Talisman the story of the meetmg 
 of Richard Lion Heart with Saladin, to show 
 that the ancients did know how to temper 
 steel. 
 
 In the Talisman, Saladin requests Richard 
 to show the strength of his sword-arm, and 
 the cleaving power of his sword, and Richard 
 lays down the handle of an iron mace "an inch- 
 and-a-half thick," and with one blow of his 
 broadsword severs it into two pieces. 
 
 Saladin looks on, and says : "I cannot do 
 that with my sword." But he takes from the 
 floor of the tent "a cushion of silk and down, 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 and drawing his keen blade across it, it falls 
 into two pieces." 
 
 "That is black art, it is magic," says Rich- 
 ard, "you cannot cut that which has no resis- 
 tance." But to show him such is not the 
 case, Saladin takes a scarf from his shoulders, 
 which is so light that it almost floats in the 
 air, and, tossing it up, severs it before it can 
 descend." 
 
 Mr. George Thompson told Mr. Phillips 
 that he "saw a man in Calcutta throw a hand- 
 ful of floss silk in the air, and a Hindu sever 
 it into pieces with his sabre." 
 
 In speaking of the marvelous Damascus 
 Blades of ancient times, the lecturer used to 
 tell that "there was a Damascus Blade at the 
 London Exhibition, the point of which could 
 be made to touch the hilt, and it could be put 
 into a scabbard like a corkscrew, and be bent 
 every way without breaking, like an Ameri- 
 can politician." 
 
 The early peoples were acquainted with 
 methods of manufacturing steel, and the 
 Prophet Jeremiah may, at some time, ) ave 
 held one of these perfect sword blades in his 
 hand. 
 
 What he is trying to say in this text, and 
 what stumbling interpreters refuse to let him 
 say, is, that common iron is not as strong as 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 steel; that the refined metal is stronger and 
 better than the unrefined metal ; and he means 
 to say by implication that the man who has 
 passed through the fire and has thereby be- 
 come Equipped, is more than the equal of the 
 unequipped man. 
 
 That, I believe, is what Jeremiah means to 
 say, and I believe it is worth saying. In the 
 preceding verse, if you will read the Author- 
 ized and the Revised versions side by side, you 
 will learn that God says to His people: "I 
 will make thee strong; I will make thee fit." 
 
 The man of yesterday was not as skillful 
 as the man of today — I would not have you 
 imagine that. Our day is better than any yes- 
 terday, and tomorrow will be better than to- 
 day, because God is back of all growth and 
 progress. But it is only fair to give our an- 
 cestors the credit of knowing some things, 
 and of knowing those things well. 
 
 Human nature just as it is in the rough, as 
 you find it, for example, in the Hottentot, in 
 the Malayan, in the Moro of the Philippine 
 Islands is poor stuff, coarse stuff, an encum- 
 brance to the land it lives in. It is ore — ore 
 that has never been passed through the fire. 
 
 Human nature is poor stuff until after God 
 the Father rescues it, until after our Lord 
 Jesus cleanses it and purifies it by an infinite 
 
12 "WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 try to draw away and escape. God puts trials 
 upon us, temptations before us; he loads our 
 backs with burdens; He does it in order to 
 make us fit; in order to bring out the good 
 metal that is in us, but that is valueless be- 
 cause of the dross. 
 
 God forces us into the furnace. It is for 
 our good, and He does not heed our outcries 
 or our protests. If you refuse to step into 
 the furnace there are compelling Hands, un- 
 seen Hands that will thrust you in, for in 
 you must go. It is the Divine Father's plan, 
 and you must pass through the necessary 
 purifying and refining series of actions. 
 
 Our Lord Jesus passed through the furnace. 
 He was purified and tempered steel; but even 
 His human nature had to be refined in order 
 to resist the onslaught of trouble and tempta- 
 tion. An Apostle says of Him : "He learned 
 obedience by the things which He suffered. " 
 
 Consider the Refining Plants. Our world is 
 full of them. Our churches, our colleges, our 
 schools, our business life, our workshops — all 
 of them are Refining Plants. They are fit- 
 ting us for something better than we can sur- 
 mise. 
 
 To be sure it is only a partial refinement 
 we receive in some of these plants. Our 
 churches could do more for us, and better. Our 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 13 
 
 business life and our workshop life could be 
 vastly improved. Our schools could be of 
 more value. 
 
 How many useless things we are taught in 
 our schools. I am an admirer of these refining 
 plants, the Public Schools which offer at least 
 the rudiments of an education to everybody. 
 But I do wish our Public Schools would stop 
 trying to give the child a smattering of every- 
 thing and a solid grounding in nothing. 
 
 Our educational institutions should make 
 every healthy child proficient in some one 
 thing, really proficient. Every child should 
 leave school knowing at least one thing well. 
 
 Two years in Shorthand — and Shorthand 
 ought to be taught in every public school — ■ 
 two years in Shorthand would be of incalcu- 
 ably more worth to most scholars in after 
 life than two years in French, which just 
 teacher them enough about that language to 
 make them keep their mouths shut when any- 
 body speaks it in their hearing. When there 
 are so many useful things that ought to be 
 known it is wicked to occupy the young years 
 of life with learning the unuseful things. 
 
 I am afraid the children are receiving just 
 now lessons along some lines wherein it would 
 be quite as well to leave them uninstructed. 
 They know some things without teaching. 
 
14 "WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 Some of the instruction given to the child is 
 probably about as much worth while as teach- 
 ing a squirrel to climb trees, or giving swim- 
 ming lessons to a sunfish. The children know 
 some things without teaching. 
 
 Real, practical, worth while education means 
 the taking of the iron ore and turning it into 
 tempered and useful steel; and the education 
 that fails to do that has sadly missed its mark. 
 
 Every book and magazine and public print 
 that comes to you tells you of the world's un- 
 rest. The world has always been in unrest. 
 There have always been protests against the 
 hardness of conditions. 
 
 If I were asked for an opinion I should say 
 that the conditions of living in this world are 
 not going to become easier as time runs on, 
 but that they are going to become harder. 
 Just as the metallurgists are year after year 
 making better steel, demanding more and 
 more perfection in the quality of steel, so, 
 generation after generation, God is demand- 
 ing better and better men, and is laying heav- 
 ier and more exacting tasks upon them. We 
 have not time to refer to this fact at length, 
 but you can see it in every section of human 
 effort if you will take the trouble to look. 
 We are asking day after day for better and 
 better equipment amongst men. 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 15 
 
 And the noisy outcry against existing condi- 
 tions comes from the men who are only com- 
 mon iron, and know it, and know that they 
 cannot face the hardened steel of competition 
 and exactness and faithfulness. For some 
 reason they are unequipped to accept the 
 gage of twentieth century battle. "Shall 
 common iron break the Northern iron and 
 steel ?" No ; it cannot ; but the remedy for that 
 is not to turn the whole world back again to 
 iron; the remedy is to put the unequipped 
 and unprepared man into the furnace, and 
 turn him into tempered steel. That is God's 
 way. 
 
 The tomorrow of time will not see all men 
 gone backward into iron ore; it will see all 
 men gone forward into hardened and superior 
 steel. You cannot set back the hands on God's 
 clock of progress with your thin fingers. 
 
 Competition is a much misunderstood thing. 
 Competition is God's agency for compelling 
 the world to grow. Take all competition out 
 of the world and the wheels would not only 
 slow down; they would stop and not start 
 again forever; and mills and factories would 
 rot down to their foundation stones. Take 
 away the machinist's desire to make a better 
 machine; the carpenter's desire to make a 
 truer joint; the inventor's desire to devise a 
 
16 "WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 better instrument; the jurist's desire to dis- 
 cover a more equitable law; the doctor's de- 
 sire to find a surer remedy; the capitalist's 
 desire to develop a more rational monetary 
 standard — in short, take away from man the 
 desire to be better, to excel, and the world 
 would go back to prehistoric savagery again. 
 God makes us want to be the best. He makes 
 the common iron envy the steel, and want to 
 be steel. That is God's way to push men 
 upward, to drive men upward into His image. 
 
 The promise to make the world over, to 
 make it easy to live in, to make common iron 
 as good as steel, is a noisy and impudent 
 humbug. We are not to run away from God's 
 furnace. We are to enter that furnace with 
 a prayer, to bear the heat of it with the best 
 patience we can summon, and then to come 
 out of it Tempered Steel, fitted for the service 
 of God and for the service of man. And 
 those who vituperate against the hardness of 
 the life that now is, and refuse to meet the 
 conditions of life as they are, will be broken 
 by those conditions and thrown by them into 
 the scrap-heap. The sword of soft iron has 
 always been hewn into pieces by the sword 
 of Northern steel, and it is always going to 
 be. 
 
 My brother, do not demand that everybody 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 17 
 
 else turn back to iron, but do thou become 
 steel. Pray God, if need be, to cast thee into 
 His roaring furnace, only so that thou come 
 forth as steel. Then shalt thou be able to 
 take thy place amongst the strongest men, 
 and to live thy life joyfully, though hardly, 
 in this great Age of Ongoing. 
 
 There may come a day, I believe there will 
 come a day, when all men shall be on a com- 
 mon level, but it will be the level of excel- 
 lence, the level of highest efficiency; it will 
 never be the level of mediocrity, or of infer- 
 iority. 
 
 We hear much talk about Trusts. There do 
 exist such things as Trusts, and some of these 
 Trusts are malignant and injurious, and a 
 method will be devised to deprive them of their 
 power to hurt. 
 
 But there can never be such a thing as a 
 Genius trust, or a Talent trust, or an Ex- 
 cellency trust. These fields are open to all, 
 and they can never be closed by any combina- 
 tion. 
 
 An effort is making in some of the States 
 to lower the standards of efficiency in profes- 
 sions like the Law, Medicine, Architecture, 
 and so on. There is a feeling that the few 
 have captured these professions, and have 
 crowded out the many. And the demand is 
 
18 "WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 made that, without examination or qualifica- 
 tion, anybody and everybody shall be admitted 
 to these professions. 
 
 The lesson may be a costly one, but the 
 world will learn its lesson. The law of effi- 
 ciency will be applied to the common iron 
 when it meets tempered steel. Persons of in- 
 telligence will not, a second time, employ as 
 an architect an agent who cannot tell the 
 difference between a Babylonian Temple and 
 a bee-hive. They will not, a second time, en- 
 gage as a barrister one who confounds the 
 works of expounders of the law with the works 
 of Romanticists. They will not choose, more 
 than once, as a physician, a man who does 
 not know the chemical difference between 
 Strychnine and strawberries. Efficiency will 
 safeguard the people. Competition will step in, 
 and the unequipped man will go to the wall. 
 
 Attempt not, sirs, to degrade steel to the 
 standard of iron; but bring iron up, by much 
 burning and refining, to the standard of steel. 
 
 Now, you must not infer that none but the 
 poor are protesting against God's furnace- 
 heat. The rich are protesting too. They, 
 too, are trying to escape. They, too, are run- 
 ning away from the flame. 
 
 You are aware that those who play golf 
 have Caddies to carry the burdens while they, 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 19 
 
 themselves, do nothing but play. In the big, 
 stern game of life, how many of the rich are 
 seeking for Caddies upon whom they may lay 
 the loads of care, while they take the joy 
 without the toil. But, my people, life is not 
 all fun; it is not a game in which you can 
 hire some one to bear the loads and run after 
 the missing balls, while you make the drives 
 and have all the sport. In real life you, your- 
 self, must step, alive, into the furnace, and 
 bear the incandescent heat. 
 
 It is not to the mouthing idler, be he rich 
 or poor, that Jesus comes with a gift. Jesus 
 did not say, "Come unto me all ye who are 
 embittered against conditions, and I will give 
 you rest." He did not say, "Come unto me all 
 ye that are leading luxurious and indolent 
 lives, all ye that are endeavoring to get pleas- 
 ure out of the world without giving anything 
 for it, and I will give you rest." 
 
 But He did say, "Come unto me all ye toil- 
 ers, come unto me all ye burden-bearers, come 
 unto me all ye anguished ones, and I will 
 give you rest." 
 
 Let us keep it in our minds that the good 
 forces in our Father's world are the strong 
 forces. The forces of evil are iron, but the 
 forces of good are Northern steel. In the 
 long run the good will vanquish the evil. The 
 
20 "WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 Church of Jesus is sometimes laughed at. 
 Modernism, anarchism, individualism tell us 
 the Church is about to disappear. They for- 
 get that iron cannot conquer steel. You are 
 told sometimes that religion is losing its grip, 
 that unbelief is spreading, that atheism in all 
 its sombreness is coming. "Shall the common 
 iron break the Norehtrn iron and the steel?" 
 Shall darkness drive back the light when 
 the great sun comes above the horizon? Sirs, 
 religion will not die today, nor tomorrow, nor 
 on the third day. 
 
 There is a current of thought and feeling 
 just now that sets, we cannot predict to what 
 unknown shore, and that bears with it the 
 destinies of the human race ; but God is guid- 
 ing it, and the world will go whither He guides 
 it. 
 
 Ironmasters say that iron is Converted into 
 steel. The retort where the heat seethes and 
 burns and hisses and glows with a flame 
 whose light would blind you is called a Con- 
 verter. You may smile at the old-fashioned 
 doctrine of Conversion as related to the hu- 
 man soul, but Conversion, real and genuine, 
 is the only short cut to efficiency for the man 
 who is iron and wants to become steel. 
 
 Simon Peter was soft iron on the night of 
 the Betrayal; he went down in disgrace be- 
 
"WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 21 
 
 fore those who pointed the finger at him ; 
 but after he was Converted, after the Holy 
 Spirit entered into him, he was tempered steel. 
 And have not all of us seen poor wrecks 
 of men, men whose temptations made them 
 slaves, coming to Jesus Christ and receiving 
 His purifying touch, and standing ever af- 
 terwards as men made unconquerable and 
 strong? 
 
 I have seen broken, trembling, cowardly 
 men, in the City Rescue Missions, going down 
 on their poor knees before the Lord Jesus 
 as soft iron, as iron that a child's hand might 
 have twisted out of shape, and receiving tne 
 Divine Touch in Conversion, and rising up as 
 tempered steel, to stand forever after in their 
 places amongst men. I believe in Conversion, 
 because I have witnessed its works. 
 
 In the early blast-furnaces there was a hol- 
 low place in the bottom, into which the molten 
 metal ran when it had attained the highest 
 heat, and that place of the last stroke of the 
 heat was called the crucible. You can trace 
 the word Crucible back to the Latin word 
 for the Cross; and back still farther, maybe, 
 to the word cruciatus, crucio — torture, ex- 
 treme pain. 
 
 And so, human souls must descend some- 
 
22 "WHEN IRON MEETS STEEL" 
 
 times into the deepest anguish, before they 
 can come forth purified and refined. 
 
 My people, those mysterious trials and bur- 
 dens and sorrows that afflict you until your 
 soul within you aches with the fatigue of long- 
 drawn pain, — they are God's processes to fit 
 you for a bigger life in a bigger world than 
 this. 
 
XPdest Bfcams 
 flbresbvterian Cburcb 
 
 WLcst H&ams Street 
 ©ne*balf blocft west of Dermont Avenue 
 
 Phone west 5448 %o& Hngeies, California 
 
 REV. WILLIAM H. FISHBURN, D.D Phone 21598 
 
 Residence, 2101 Bonsallo Ave. 
 
 Assistant Pastor 
 
 REV. RICHARD E. STANTON 
 
 Residence, 1048 West Thirty-first St Phone 23554 
 
 SUNDA Y SERVICES 
 
 9:30 a.m. Sunday School 
 
 11:00 a.m. Public Worship 
 
 11 : 00 A. M. Junior Congregation 
 
 6:30 p.m. Intermediate Christian Endeavor 
 
 6:30 p.m. Senior Christian Endeavor 
 
 7:45 p.m. Public Worship 
 
 WEDNESDA Y 
 
 8:00 P.M. Mid- Week Meeting 
 
 Financial Clerk 
 
 F. L. Lowe, 2664 South Vermont Avenue. - Phone West 258 
 
 Y. P. S. C. E. —Presidents 
 
 Senior— JOHN SHAW 
 
 Intermediates — Paul Mattoon 
 
 Junior— Miss Elsie Hunter 
 
 Caretakers 
 
 Mr. & Mrs. C. L. Jantz, 2116 Aubrey St. Phone West 1067 
 
ORDER OF SERVICE 
 
 SUNDAY, riARCH 20, 1921 
 )RNINQ 
 
 delude— Marche Solennelle Maillv 
 
 )oxology 
 
 nvocation 
 
 rloria; congregation standing 
 
 Responsive Selection No. 23 
 
 lymn 34 
 
 Jcripture Lesson 
 
 Chorus— The Morn of Gladness Pike 
 
 'rayer, closing with the Lord's Prayer 
 
 announcements 
 
 Jonsecration of Offerings 
 
 )ffering 
 
 >olo — The Palms Faure 
 
 Mr. Starck 
 lymn 231 
 
 iermon, "The Man Who Worked the Farm" 
 lymn 348 
 benediction 
 *ostlude— March Gaul 
 
 r ENING 
 
 delude— Marche Solennelle ■ . Gounod 
 
 *rayer 
 lymn 8 
 Jcripture Lesson 
 
 iuartet— Softly the Silent Sealy 
 
 >rayer, closing with the Lord's Prayer 
 
 Announcements 
 
 Consecration of Offerings 
 
 )ffering 
 
 iuartet— Art Thou Weary Schnecker 
 
 lymn 164 
 
 iermon, "A Gadarene Madman" 
 
 lymn 45 
 
 benediction 
 
 ^stlude — Verset Batiste 
 
 The phone for the church notices has been changed from West 6391 
 West 5469. 
 
 A District Announcement 
 
 On Saturday, March 26, from 3:00 to 6:00 p.m., at the Log Cabin Inn, 
 *ner Adams and Normandie, there will be a tea, entertainment and 
 »d sale, for benefit of starving children of Europe. 75c includes tea 
 1 entertainment. Come and bring your children and a friend. 
 
 The Every Member Canvass 
 
 Our Every Member Canvass for Church support and benevolences 
 1 be made Sunday, April 3. Dr. Stanton has charge of this important 
 rk. Many helpers have been appointed. Do not shirk, but take up 
 
 ir nart and lpt. ns anrnass everv fnrmpr vpar in nnr histr>rv 
 
ANNOUNCEMENTS 
 
 Sunday School, 9:30 a.m. 
 
 Parents and friends of our Sunday school are cordially invited 
 attend the special Easter service at 9:30 o'clock Easter morning. 
 
 Intermediate C. E. party next Friday. Everybody of high sch< 
 age to meet at church at 7:15 p.m., March 25, and go to party in a groi 
 
 The Senior Y. P. S. C. E. invites all young people to their eveni 
 meeting at 6:30 o'clock. 
 
 Evening Worship 
 
 Dr. Fishburn's subject this evening at 7:45 will be "A Gadare 
 Madman." A special invitation is extended to YOU to be present. Y 
 know the hymns. They are the old hymns your mother sang. Splem 
 Quartette and Chorus Choir. 
 
 Missionary meeting will be held Tuesday, March 22. Please coi 
 in time for the opening devotional at 10:30 and bring some favor 
 article of food for lunch. 
 
 New Era Committee 
 
 Will every member of the New Era Committee meet Dr. Stanton 
 Wednesday evening at 7 o'clock in the chapel ; one hour before eveni 
 service. This is important. 
 
 Easter and Passion Week Services 
 
 Beginning tomorrow evening there will be Passion Week Services 
 this Church every evening during the week at 8 o'clock except Saturd; 
 The Organist and Mr. Home will be with us on Wednesday evenir 
 The Organist and entire Quartette will be here on Good Friday evenh 
 On all the evenings we expect our Volunteer Choir to help lead the singir 
 The subjects on the different evenings will be : 
 Monday, 8 p.m., "The Great Feast." 
 Tuesday, 8 p.m., "The Food that Nourishes/' 
 Wednesday, 8 p.m., "The Glory in His Face." 
 Thursday, 8 p.m., "The Three Crosses." 
 Friday, 8 p.m., "His Last Words." 
 Friday evening will be Preparatory to the Lord's Supper which v 
 be held on Easter Sunday morning. 
 
 The Session will meet after every service to confer with any w 
 may wish to join the Church. 
 
 Let every Officer of the Church, every member of the Church, and 
 those who love the Lord endeavor to attend every one of these servic 
 or as many of them as possible. It means much to our spiritual growl 
 
 Free Dinner 
 
 The Ladies of the Church will give a Free Dinner to all Members a 
 Contributors to the Support of our Church on Wednesday evening, Mai 
 30th. It is expected that all who take dinner will remain to the Anm 
 Congregational Meeting which begins at 8 o'clock the same evenir 
 The first table will be ready at 6 o'clock. 
 
 Annual Reports 
 
 Annual Reports of all Societies and Organizations must be presenl 
 at the Annual Meeting-, March 30th. Please prepare these so that t 
 
CHURCH DIRECTORY 
 
 Elders Emeritus 
 )J * NI H. F. Norc^oss 
 
 >relud 
 ) xol( Tne Session 
 
 nvoca Meets on the third Monday of each month, at 8:00 P.M. 
 
 rloria 
 
 tespo Dr » Henry Van Bergen, Clerk; phone West 6391 
 
 I ymn iLLiAM Miles, Jr. , Treas. George F. Guy C. W. Hardi 
 
 Jcript Thomas M. Tulloch Harold J. Walker M. R. Williams 
 
 "horu William A. Dean Dr. Charles Wellington Allen 
 
 >raye J - c - McCleary Andrew Ross Thomas H. Dunk 
 
 \ nn ™ The Deacons 
 
 Jonse ( 
 
 )fferi A. L. Lakin, President; phone 74762 
 
 ; 1 __ Charles M. Dane A. 0. Wyatt Clarence Waltz 
 
 ithur Male William D. Forrester Jas. Dudley McLeoi 
 
 Clarence Hopkins Gus Beach 
 
 H. J. Waldo Neal A. Trowbridge 
 
 lymn 
 
 lermc 
 
 ty™ The Trustees 
 
 wr Harry A. Galbraith, Chairman ; phone 25190 
 
 S. William Duffield Frank E. Mattoon H. J. Reesi 
 
 r ENI Horace H. Mann 0. Long 
 
 > re j U( F. L. Lowe, Sec'y and Financial Clerk E. L. Hopkins 
 
 *raye Men's Round Table Club 
 
 ? ymi *. William Duffield, Pres. John Shaw, Vice-Pres 
 
 > cn P j C. W. Hardy, Secretary-Treasurer 
 
 Juart 
 
 *raye Sunday -School 
 
 ^nnoi Graded Lessons Meets at 9 : 30 A. M. 
 
 'onse George F. Guy, Superintendent ; phone 74787 
 
 )fferi. j # Sprenger, Supt. Young People's Division 
 
 iuart miss Grace Walker, Supt. Junior Dept. 
 
 lymi Mrs. Lewis J. Adams, Supt. Primary Dept. 
 
 >erm. Mrs. Ellen Vance, Supt. Home Dept. 
 
 lymi Miss Louisa Sprenger, Supt. Beginners' Dept 
 
 $ene< 
 
 > ostli Missionary Society 
 
 Meets the fourth Tuesday in each month, at 10:30 a.m. 
 Th<RS. Ella Noble, President ; phone 22549 
 Wes Mrs. D. W. Doolittle, Secretary ; phone 22788 
 
 Mrs. Andrew Ross, Treasurer ; phone 73042 
 
 On Pastor's Aid Society 
 
 >n er Meets the second Tuesday in each month, at 10:30 a.m. 
 
 'd sa RS . H. C. Parrett, President, 2217 Juliet Street; phone West 676S 
 1 ent Mrs. E. D. Mauser, Secretary; phone West 1083 
 Mrs. C. W. Hardy, Treasurer 
 
 Ou The Ayude Chapter, Westminster Guild 
 
 1 be Meets the second Thursday in each month, at 6:30 P.M. 
 
 rk. Miss Edyth Allen, President; phone 20235 
 
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