But physical law or necessitating instinct would not be adapted in its nature to the government of a rational and moral being. The obligation of either to the soul would destroy its free agency. God has made man intelligent, and thereby adapted his nature to a rule which he understands. Man has a will and a conscience; but he must understand the rule in order to will obedience, and he must believe the sanction by which the law is maintained before he can feel the obligation upon his conscience. A law, therefore, adapted to man's nature, must be addressed to the understanding, sanctioned by suitable authority, and enforced by adequate penalties.

In accordance with these legitimate deductions, God gave the Israelites a rule of life—the moral law—succinctly comprehended in the Ten Commandments. And as affectionate obedience is the only proper obedience he coupled the facts which were fitted to produce affection with the command to obey; saying, "I am the Lord thy God, which brought thee out of the land of Egypt, and from the house of bondage." Therefore, if ye love the Lord ye shall surely keep His commandments.

Further, the only begotten Son of God, who, in order to fulfil the law gave himself a ransom for the salvation of all mankind, made the plan clearer to "Whomsoever believeth on Him?" saying; "This is My commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you."

Therefore, John, whom history acknowledges as the Socrates of the Christian philosophy in his personal knowledge of Divine revelations, was glad to testify to the fact that "God is Love."

And now with my whole soul lifted up to God I can sing:

My heart is fixed, eternal God: fixed on Thee, And my unchanging choice is made, Christ for me! He is my Prophet, Priest, and King, who did for me salvation bring And while I've breath I mean to sing, Christ for me.



CHAPTER VI

God's Providence

In facts from Christian and philosophical standpoints it has been demonstrated that the infallible Supreme Ruler of all human spirits has made His final provision for the safety of each and every individual soul for its temporal and eternal welfare. Now I must prove to my readers' perfect satisfaction that to discard all the dignities and privileges of a high priest and become a lowly worker for Christ, it is not a mere accident nor is it an act of necessity as far as temporal necessities are concerned; but, it is a magnificent living monument of God's Providential manifestations. In order to protect my reader in his judgment from any undue prejudice I have taken pains to present herewith all the obtainable facts in regard to God's Providence existing and exercising its office upon even to the most microscopical atom. Because, it is required by the law of justice, to comprehend this great attribute of God's Providence, in order to understand, how, all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.

The Latin etymology of the word Providence is from (Providentia, Pro-videre), and originally meant foresight. The corresponding Greek word (Pronoia) means forethought. By a well-known figure of speech, called metonymy, we use a word denoting the means by which we accomplish anything to denote the end accomplished; we exercise care over anything by means of foresight, and indicate that care by the word foresight. On the same principle the word Providence is used to signify the care God takes of the universe. As to its inherent nature, it is the power which God exerts, without intermission, in and upon all the works of his hands. In the language of the school-men it is a continual creation (creation continua). But defined as to its visible manifestations, it is God's preservation and government of all things. As a thing is known by its opposites, the meaning of Providence is elucidated by considering that it is opposed to fortune and fortuitous accidents.

Providence, considered in reference to all things existing, is termed by Knapp universal; in reference to moral beings, special; and in reference to holy or converted beings, particular. Every thing is an object of Providence in proportion to its capacity. The Disciples, being of more value than many sparrows, were assured of greater providential care. By Providence being universal is intended, not merely that it embraces classes of objects or greater matters, but that nothing is too minute or insignificant for its inspection.

Providence is usually divided in three divine acts, Preservation, Co-operation and Government. 1. By preservation is signified the causing of existence to continue. 2. Co-operation is the act of God which causes the powers of created things to remain in being. It is not pretended that the existence of the powers of the things are ever separated, but only that they are distinguishable in mental analysis. Co-operation varies with the nature of the objects towards which it is exercised. 3. Government, as a branch of Providence, is God's controlling all created things so as to promote the highest good of the whole. To this end every species of being is acted upon in a way confirmable to its nature; for instance, inanimate things by the laws of physical influence; brutes according to the laws of instinct; and free agents according to the laws of free agency. Moreover, as Providence has respect to the nature which God has been pleased to design to each various object, so, in common with every other divine act, it is characterized by divine perfections. It displays omnipresence, omniscience, omnipotence, holiness, justice, and benevolence. It has been sometimes contended that Providence does not extend to all things, or to unimportant events, and chiefly for four reasons. Such an all-embracing providence, it is said, would (1) be distracting to the mind of God; or (2) would be beneath His dignity; or (3) would interfere with human freedom; or (4) would render God unjust in permitting evil to exist. In reply to these objections against a providence controlling all things without exception, it may be observed that the third and fourth suggest difficulties which press equally, in fact, upon all hypothesis, not only as to providence, but as to creation, and which shall be more fully explained in the sequel.

As to the first objection, that the minutiae of the creation are so multifarious as to confuse the mind of God, we are content to let it refute itself in every mind which has any just sense of divine knowledge and wisdom. The second objection, that some things are beneath God's notice, if it be not a captious cavil, must result from pushing too far the analogy between earthly kings and the King of kings. It is an imperfection in human potentates that they need vicegerents; let us not then attribute such a weakness to God, fancying him altogether such a one as ourselves. Again, it is to this day doubtful whether the microscope does not display the divine perfections as illustriously as the telescope; there is therefore no reason to deny a providence over animalcula which we admit over the constellated heavens. What is it that we dare call insignificant? The least of all things may be as a seed cast in to the seed-field of time, to grow there and bear fruit, which shall be multiplying when time shall be no more. We cannot always trace the connections of things. We do not ponder those we can trace: or we should tremble to call anything beneath the notice of God. It has been eloquently said that where we see a trifle hovering unconnected in space, higher spirit can discern its fibres stretching through the whole expanse of the system of the world, and hanging on the remotest limits of the future and the past. In reference to the third and fourth objections before mentioned, namely, that an all-embracing providence is incompatible with divine justice and human freedom, it should be considered that, in contemplating God's Providence, the question will often arise, why was mortal evil allowed to exist? But as these questions meet us at every turn, and, under different forms, may be termed the one and the only difficulty in theology, it is already considered in the previous chapter of this work, and may therefore require the less notice in the present article. We should in all humility preface whatever we say on the permission of evil (such as, mysticism, in religious bodies) with a confession that it is an inscrutable mystery, which our faith receives, but which our reason could not prove either to be or not to be demanded by the perfection of God. But, in addition to the vindication of God's ways which may be found in the over-ruling of evil for good, the following theories deserve notice:—

1. Occasionalism, or the doctrine that God is the immediate cause of all men's actions. It is so called, because it maintains that men only furnish God an occasion for what he does. It degrades all second causes to mere occasions, and turns men into passive instruments.

2. Mechanism. Many, alarmed at the consequences which occasionalism would seem to involve, have embraced an opposite scheme. They criticise the definition of the laws of nature, and contend that occasionalism derives all its plausibility from adroitly availing itself of the ambiguities of language. They would have us view the creation as a species of clock, or other machinery, which, being once made and wound up, will for a time perform its movements without the assistance or even presence of its maker. But reasons press too far the analogy between the Creator and an artisan. So excellent a man as Baxter was misled by this hypothesis, which evidently is as derogatory to God as occasionalism is fatal to the moral agency of man.

3. The authors of the third scheme respecting the mode in which Providence permits sin sought to be "Eclectics" or to find a path intermediate between Mechanism and Occasionalism. In their judgment, man is actuated by God, and yet is at the same time active himself. God gives man the power of action, and preserves these powers every moment, but he is not the efficient cause of free actions themselves. This they say, is involved in the very idea of a moral being, which would cease to be moral if it were subjected to the control of necessity, and not suffered to choose and to do what it saw to be the best according to the laws of freedom. But it is asked, why did God create men free, and therefore fallible? It were presumption to think of answering this question adequately. It belongs to the deep things of God. But, among the possible reasons, we may mention, that if no fallible beings had been created, there could have been no virtue in the universe; for virtue implies probation, and probation a liability to temptation and sin. Again, if some beings had not become sinful, the most glorious attributes of God would never have been so fully exerted and displayed. How could His wisdom and mercy and grace have been adequately manifested, except by suffering a portion of His creatures to become such as to demand the exercise of those attributes? How else could He have wrought the miracle of educing good from evil? In this connection we may allude to the third chapter of Romans, where as in other passages, it is declared, that the good which evil may be over-ruled to produce, cannot palliate, much less excuse, the guilt of sinners, or of those who say, "Let us do evil that good may come."

Among the proofs of Divine Providence may be reckoned the following:—1. One argument in proof of Providence is analogous to one mode of proving a creation. If we cannot account for the existence of the world without supposing its coming into existence, or beginning to be; no more can we account for the world continuing to exist, without supposing it to be preserved; for it is as evidently absurd to suppose any creature prolonging as producing its own being. A second proof of Providence results from the admitted fact of creation. Whoever has made any piece of mechanism, therefore takes pains to preserve it.

Parental affection moves those who have given birth to children to provide for their sustenation and education. It is both reasonable and scriptural to contemplate God as sustaining the universe because He made it. Thus David, having promised that the world was made by God, immediately descends to the course of his Providence. (Ps. xxiii. 6.) The creation also evinces a Providence by proving God's right to rule, on the admitted principle that every one may do what he will with his own.

A third proof of Providence is found in the divine perfections. Since, among the divine perfections, are all power and all knowledge, the non-existence of Providence, if there be none, must result from a want of will in God. But no want of will to exercise a Providence can exist, for God wills whatever is for the good of the universe, and for His own glory; to either of which a Providence is clearly indispensable. God therefore has resolved to exercise His power and knowledge so as to subserve the best ends with His creation. "He that denies Providence," says Charnock, "denies most of God's attributes; he denies at least the exercise of them; he denies his omniscience, which is the eye of Providence; mercy and justice, which are the arms of it; power, which is its life and motion; wisdom, which is the rudder whereby Providence is steered; and holiness, which is the compass and rule of each motion." This argument for a Providence might be made much more impressive, did our limits allow us to expand it, so as to show, step by step how almost every attribute, if not directly, yet by implication, demands that God put forth an unceasing sovereignty over all His works.

A fourth proof of God's Providence appears in the order which prevails in the universe. We say the order which prevails, aware of the occasional apparent disorder that exists, which we have already noticed, and shall soon treat of again. That summer and winter, seed time and harvest, cold and heat, day and night, are fixed by law, was obvious even to man who never heard of God's covenant with Noah. Accordingly the ancient Greeks designated the creation by a word which means order (cosmos). But our sense of order is keenest where we discern it in apparent confusion. The motions of the heavenly bodies are eccentric and intervolved, yet are most regular when they seem most lawless. They were therefore compared by the earliest astronomers to the discords which blend in a harmony, and to the wild starts which often heighten the graces of a dance. Modern astronomy has revealed to us so much miraculous symmetry in celestial phenomena, that it shows us far more decisive proofs of a Ruler seated on the circles of the heavens, than were vouchsafed to the ancients. Moreover, many discover proofs of a Providence in such facts as the proportion between the two sexes, the diversities of the continents, as well as human nature and the nature of all things continuing always the same; since such facts show that all things are controlled by an unchanging power.

An objection to proofs of Providence, derived from the order of the universe, is thought to spring from the seeming disorders to which we cannot shut our eyes. Much is said of plagues and earthquakes, of drought, flood, frost and famine, with a thousand more natural evils. But it deserves consideration whether, if there were no Providence, these anomalies would not be the rule instead of the exception; whether they do not feelingly persuade us that that curse of nature is upheld by a power above nature, and without which it would fall to nothing; whether they may not be otherwise necessary for more important ends than fall within the scope of our knowledge.



A fifth proof of Providence is furnished by the fact that so many men are here rewarded and punished according to a righteous law. The wicked often feel compunctious visitings in the midst of their sins, or smart under the rod of civil justice, or are tortured with natural evils. With righteous all things are in general reversed. The miser and envious are punished as soon as they begin to commit their respective sins; and some virtues are their own present reward. But we would not dissemble that we are here met with important objections, although infinitely less, even though they were unanswerable, than beset such as would reject the doctrine of Providence.

It is said, and we grant, that the righteous are trodden under foot, and the vilest men exalted; that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong; that virtue starves, while vice is fed, and that schemes for doing good are frustrated, while evil plots succeed. But we may reply:

1. The prosperity of the wicked is often apparent, and well styled a shining misery. Who believes that Nero enthroned was happier than Paul in chains?

2. We are often mistaken in calling such or such an afflicted man good, and such or such a prosperous man bad.

3. The miseries of good men are generally occasioned by their own faults, since they have been so fool-hardy as to run counter to the laws by which God acts, or have aimed at certain ends while neglecting the appropriate means.

4. Many virtues are proved and augmented by trials, and not only proved, but produced, so that they would have had no existence without them. Many a David's noblest qualities would never have been developed but for the impious attempts of Saul. Job's integrity was not only tested but strengthened by Satan being permitted to sift him as wheat. Passions, experience and hope were brought as ministering angels to man, of whom the world was not worthy, through trials of cruel mockings and scourgings.

5. The unequal distribution of good and evil, so far as it exists, carries our thoughts forward to the last judgment, and a retribution according to the deeds done in the body, and can hardly fail of throwing round the idea of eternity a stronger air of reality than it might otherwise have done. All perplexities vanish as we reflect that, "He cometh to judge the earth."

6. Even if we limit our views to this world, but extend them to all our acquaintances, we cannot doubt that the tendencies, though not always the effects, of vice are to misery, and those of virtue to happiness. These tendencies are especially clear if our view embraces a whole life-time, and the clearer the longer the period we embrace. The Psalmist was at first envious at the foolish, when he saw the prosperity of the wicked; but as his views became more comprehensive, and he understood their end, his language was, "How are they brought into desolation as in a moment; they are utterly consumed with terrors." The progressive tendency of vice and virtue to reap each its appropriate harvest is finally illustrated by Bishop Butler, best of all perhaps in his picture of an imaginary kingdom of the good, which would peacefully subvert all others, and fill the earth. Indeed, as soon as we leave what is immediately before our eyes, and glance at the annals of the world, we behold so many manifestations of God, that we may adduce as a sixth proof of Providence the facts of history. The giving and transmission of a revelation, as the Mosaic and the Christian—the raising up of Prophets, Apostles and Defenders of the Faith—the ordination of particular events, such as the Reformation—the more remarkable deliverance noticed in the lives of those devoted to the good of the world, etc., all indicate the wise and benevolent care of God over the human family. But the historical proof of a Providence is perhaps strongest where the wrath of man has been made to praise God, or where efforts to dishonor God have been constrained to do him honor. Testimony in favor of piety has fallen from the impious, and has had a double volume, as coming from the unwilling. They who have fought against the truth have been used by God as instruments of spreading the knowledge of it, awakening an interest in it, or stimulating Christians to purify it from human additions, and to exhibit its power. The scientific researches also with which infidels have wearied themselves to overthrow a revelation have proved at last fatal to their daring scepticisms. Too many histories, like Gibbons', have been written as if there were no God in the heavens, swaying the sceptre of the earth. But a better day is approaching; and it is exhilarating to observe that Alison, the first British historian of the age, writes in the spirit which breathes in the historical books of the Bible, where the free actions of man are represented as inseparably connected with the agency of God. If we may judge of the future by the past, as the scroll of time unrolls, we, or our posterity, and some think glorified spirits in a yet higher degree, shall see more and more plainly the hand of God operating, till every knee shall bow. Judgments, now a great deep, shall become as the light that goeth forth. The tides of ambition and avarice will all be seen to roll in subserviency to the designs of God. To borrow the illustration of another, "we shall behold the bow of God encircling the darkest storms of wickedness, and forcing them to manifest His glory to the universe."

As a seventh ground for believing in Providence, it may be said that Providence is the necessary basis of all religion. For what is religion? One of the best definitions calls it the belief in a super-human power, which has great influence in the human affairs, and ought therefore to be worshiped. But take away this influence in the human affairs, and you cut off all motive to worship. To the same purpose is the text in Hebrews: "He that cometh to God must believe that He is, and He is a rewarder of such as diligently seek Him." If then the religious sentiments thrill us not in vain—if all attempts of all men to commune with God have not always and everywhere been idle—there must be a Providence.

In the eighth place, we may advert for a moment to the proof of Providence from the common consent of mankind, with the single exception of atheists. The Epicureans may be classed with atheists, as they are generally thought to have been atheists in discourse, and a God after their imaginations would be, to all intents and purposes, no God. The Stoics were also atheists, believing only in a blind fate arising from a perpetual concatenation of causes contained in nature. The passages acknowledging a Providence in Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, and all the ancient moralists, are numerous and decisive, but too accessible or well-known to need being quoted.

In the last place, the doctrine of Providence is abundantly proved by the Scriptures. Some times it is declared that the Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and giveth it to whomsoever He will; as much as to say that nothing can withstand His power. Again, lest we may think some things beneath His notice, we read that He numbereth the hairs of our heads, careth for lilies, and disposeth all the lots which are cast. The care of God for man is generally argued, a fortiori, from His care for inferior creatures. One Psalm (xci) is devoted to show the providential security of the Godly: another (xciii) shows the frailty of man; and a third (civ) the dependence of all orders in creation on God's Providence for food and breath. In Him, it is elsewhere added, we live, and move, and have our being. He, in the person of Christ, sustaineth all things by the Word of His power, and from Him cometh down every good and perfect gift. But nowhere perhaps is a Providence so pointedly asserted and so sublimely set forth as in some of the last chapters of Job; and nowhere so variously, winningly, and admirably exhibited as in the history of Joseph.

And nowhere could be found more brilliantly illuminating its substance than in our own hearts and lives. The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God. To undervalue God's Providence it is the most dreadful insult that a fool could dare conceive in his mind against God's existence. But the wise hearken to His voice.

My son, if thou wilt receive my words, And hide my commandments with thee; So that thou incline thine ear to wisdom, And apply thy heart to understanding; Yea, if thou criest after knowledge, And liftest up thy voice for understanding; If thou seekest her as silver, And searchest for her as for hid treasures; Then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, And find the knowledge of God.



CHAPTER VII

New York to California

When I was but a little boy, I can well recollect, a nice little pond in the hollow of two hills beautifully situated, near the school house where the pupils would enjoy the intervals of their school time. How I would wonder at the experiment of throwing a stone in the pond and watching anxiously the circles of water growing larger and larger till reaching the banks of the pond and there they would break, as though in despair for the limitations of their enlarging tendencies. It seems to me, now, a parallel despair threatens my heart, for being obliged to compact this story of my conversion. Yet, in view of the fact that the American reader is a greater admirer of quality rather than quantity, I must content myself by giving a brief account on the practical side of my personal experience as a Christian worker, among the rich and the poor, the high and the low classes and masses, in cities and towns, sunshine or clouds, rain or snow, by day or by night; I made myself servant unto all men, that I might by all means save some, and this I do for the Gospel's sake. And, it is only proper, to confess, publicly, that I am prepared to suffer all things, for the love which I feel in my heart to be of some service to my own people, an historical race of people they are, drifting away from God, blindly allowing blind priests to lead them into the ditch. There is a cheering prospect about this people, for whose salvation I have devoted my life, that when Christ enters into the heart of a Greek, there is very little hope left for the devil to induce him to be a backslider. A truly converted Greek soul is worthy of all the joy that the angels in heaven rejoice over one sinner that repenteth. How much more rejoicing shall be there, if we get converted all the Greeks that are living in the United States and use them as a kindling matter to start the fire of salvation in the hearts of the millions of people under the Greek and Russian church slavery, all round the Mediterranean countries?

With this and many other social and industrial problems laying upon my heart, I find the atmosphere, in New York, too close for any opening and very little encouragement for a beginning. And the atmosphere grew more asphyxiating every day with the arguments of my friend George N. He never had any sympathy with the subject so dear to my own heart, his highest ambition being money-making, for which end he relinquished the Presbyterian pulpit, after being duly graduated from a Presbyterian Seminary for ministerial ordination. It was only natural that our thoughts and our ambitions should face each other suspiciously from the diametrical opposite ends. And with all due respect to my old teacher and gratefully acknowledging his hospitality for entertaining me many a day, I find out that at the best I had to be in his mercy, as long as I was not able to explain myself, to the American people, speaking in their own language. And, as difficulties have always had a peculiar effect upon my personal character; to face them, and fight them out with one object in view to die or to win, I left New York right after Christmas of 1903, in the midst of an unusually severe winter, rather a wanderer; but determined to ramble among the American people and learn the language by ear, which proved in my case, and I believe, it is in every case, to be the best school for learning the correct pronunciation of any language you might desire to speak, and be not laughable when you address the natives of that language.

Where should I direct my wandering steps, it was the all important question, under my consideration in the first place. Boston: I had been scouring the ground before, and from a thorough-going I was convinced that to begin in a place where the most superstitious, if not fanatic, Greeks are situated, at all appearances it should be a wonderful failure without any dose of wisdom in it; while I was not able to take my stand before the people, whose sympathies I needed in judging my purposes and my efforts. In the great wild West, way out there, where some of the best easterners by leaving their homes and their comforts therein, and enduring all the hardships of pioneering life they succeeded at last to put a solid foundation of a new and permanent civilization astonishingly wonderful not only in the development of this great land of liberty but revolutionizing the whole commercial and social system of the world.

Who hath known the mind of the Lord? We have been taught, that His purpose is to glorify Himself through human agency, and we know that all the great movements in history were originated in an insignificant way by insignificant persons at the beginning. Who could say, at the time, when the daughter of Pharaoh came down to wash herself at the river, and there she drew out of the water an ark with a child in it, that that child would be the chosen one of God to deliver his people from the Egyptian bondage? Or, when, a poor carpenter with his wife went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea in a small village of Bethlehem, and Mary brought forth her first-born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn; that that baby was the King of Kings, Christ the Lord and Saviour of all mankind?

That, humble fishermen would be the heralds of glad tidings, to those who accept Christ as their Saviour? That an altruist monk should leave his monastery, thus violating his vows to Pope and the church, to be the mouthpiece of the Truths of Christ's Gospel, and become the father of a Reformation that brought down the Romish pride, for all time and raised the banner of personal liberty in Him who is the Only One to save every soul that cometh unto Him without the necessity of a priest? That such men as John Wesley, Moody, and a number of others, to accomplish great things for the advancement of God's kingdom? And the greatest religious living man, General William Booth, who, with his ingenious and prototype system, is doing more for God and humanity, than all religious bodies put together? Their beginning was insignificant.

These names, a few of the many, I thought to mention for the encouragement of those who always try to find some excuse, for not doing all they can, to realize that for which they every day pray, "Thy Kingdom come." As for me, I know, that there is nothing impossible with Jesus, and it is only according to our faith, and the work which we put in it, that we reap the results of our efforts.

When I left New York, I made a short stop-over at New Jersey, and one snowy morning I went to the R. R. station and purchased my ticket for Athens, Ohio, because, in studying geography, I noticed that there are quite a number of towns in the United States by the name of Athens, and I was very desirous to visit the Athens, Ohio, and see if there was any Acropolis or monuments to compare with the Athens, Greece. The train arrived at Athens, Ohio, R. R. station just on time, not to miss my dinner at a nearby restaurant, where I inquired if there were any Greek people in the town. A very gentle young lady, waiting on the table gave me instructions to find a candy store kept by a Greek, where she took her ice cream. I found the place and the Greek who was a real good natured middle-aged man and his family living on the floor above the store. He received me kindly and after a short conversation he said he thought I could make a suitable help for him and he offered me the job without asking any questions as to my identification. I had no thought of staying at that place and declined the offer. By the same Greek I was glad to learn that Athens, Ohio, though there is no Acropolis and no Socrates there; yet, she is a nice little college town and the Greek was doing a rushing business with the students. The next train was for St. Louis, Missouri, and I was very anxious to see the Mississippi river, so I went on that train. The great bridge on the Mississippi river and the Union station at St. Louis are two buildings that could make honor to any city in the world. I left my luggage at the parcel-room and started out to find a hotel, where I could have the best accommodations for the smallest amount of money. When I located myself the best that I could, the next thing I thought to look around for a job, as I liked to stay in St. Louis till the opening of the World's Fair in the year 1904. I bought a newspaper: I could then read some English, but speak very little yet. The advertisement which attracted my attention was a short one "Wanted young man willing to work, apply, at given number and street." It was Saturday yet I was anxious and willing to work, so, I went to answer the ad. By asking in every corner some man in uniform, not knowing at the time if they were policemen or conductors in the electric cars, I find the street and presently I saw the number above the door of a great big livery stable. I looked over the newspaper, and the number was correct. I was not prepared for the surprise and for a moment I hesitated to enter. The thoughts came to me by bunches: for the first time in my life I was looking for an honest work to make an honest living, and the first place, God's Providence, brought me, was a stable; and what a big stable that was. I never knew anything about stables and horses: what could I do there? Instantly my feet began to move backwards when a thought came as a lightning: what do you care if it is a stable, or a dowager's palace? It is work that you want, and it is much more honorable to work in a stable and be right with God, than to live in the luxuries as a High Priest and be an hypocrite. Labor, it has always been an object of my admiration, though, labor is set forth as a part of the primeval curse, "in the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat bread" and doubtless there is a view of labor which exhibits in it reality as a heavy, sometimes a crueling burden. But labor is by no means exclusively an evil, nor is its prosecution a dishonor.

These impressions, false though they are, have wrought a vast and complicated amount of harm to men, especially to the industrious classes, causing these classes, that is, the great majority of our fellow-creatures, to be regarded, and consequently to be treated even in Christian lands, as a parish caste, as hereditary "hewers of wood and drawers of water" doomed by Providence, if not primarily by the Creator himself, to a low and degrading yoke, and utterly incapable of entertaining lofty sentiments, or rising to a higher position; to be restrained therefore in every manifestation of impatience lest they should temporarily gain the upper hand, and lay waste the fair fields of civilization; and to be kept under for the safety of society, if not for their own safety, by social burdens and the depressing influences of disregard and contempt.

A better feeling, however, regarding labor and laborers, is beginning to prevail: these motions, which breathe the very spirit of slavery whence they are borrowed, are in a word dishonored, while they are gradually losing their hold on the heart, and their influence on the life. Individuals arising from time to time from the lowest levels of social life to take, occupy, and adorn its loftiest posts, have irresistibly shown that there is no depression in society which the favors of God may not reach. Especially has a wider and more humane spirit begun to prevail since man has learned more accurately to know, and more powerfully to feel, the genius and the spirit of the Gospel, whose originator was a carpenter's son, and whose heralds were Galilean fishermen. Reason and experience too, in this as in all cases, have come to revealed truth, tending forcibly to show that labor, if under certain circumstances it has a curse to inflict, has also many priceless blessings to bestow. Yet, when it fell to my lot, to submit myself in that class and be a laborer and earn my bread by the sweat of my brow, it was a critical moment to decide upon. And just at this moment a man of small stature came out of the stable, and as I looked suspiciously, he asked me if I wanted anything. I want this job said I, showing to him the ad in the paper. With a few sharp glances at me standing now like a marble; all right, he said; you just put on your working clothes and come here on Monday morning at 5 a. m., and we will have something for you to do. I left him and on my way back home I entered the first clothing store and purchased an outfit of working-man's clothes. The next day was Sunday and I spent the day in my room, praying that God would sustain me in my new career. At night I had very little sleep, making my plans for the future, or building my castles in the air, and early Monday morning I was at the stable before 5 a. m. Soon the little man appeared and after the customary ceremony in taking my name and address, he led the way into the inner part of the stable in front of a huge heap of horse manure. There, he says, you just shovel that out of the window, and handing to me a big fork, for the operation, he disappeared.

There are certain happenings in our lives indelibly written in our memory, which cannot be effaced by the stream of time, and one week's experience in this stable was sufficient to engrave the deepest lines in my heart of sympathy and mercy for sinful, suffering humanity. It has been said in the old Greek mythology that the greatest achievement of Hercules was when he undertook to clean the stable of the king Augeus at Argos. But should Hercules lived in this stable for one week, I doubt that his name would ever appear in the list of demigods.



It is beyond the limits of self respect to even attempt a brief account of all that took place in that stable, but sufficient to say that I went in there one individual and by Saturday I came out ten thousand strong. And I had to put up in St. Louis one more week in a bath house, with much work and expense to get back into my one individual, and hasten my wandering steps towards Chicago, with a stop-over at Springfield, Illinois, where I had references to meet a gentleman, professor of the Greek language in one of the colleges there. When I arrived at the house of the dear professor, he, began to speak to me from a book, in an exameter homerean tone, and I understood about as much as the faithful who goes to church and the priest reads the mass in Latin. At Springfield I lost my satchel and with it my Greek documents, which might have been very interesting to the reader, yet, I hope in my next publication to have reproductions of those documents from the original, which I can easily obtain from Athens.

Chicago is my next stop. The Babylon of the West. Last week of January, 1904, the weather 12 degrees below zero. All the idles of Chicago hired by the city hall could not keep control of the snow on the streets. I located myself in a furnished room on Wabash Avenue, and bought a paper to find a job, but my experience in the stable at St. Louis, took away from me all the courage to select any kind of work from the paper, yet I was very anxious to settle for a while in Chicago, in that third cosmopolitan city of the world, London and New York being respectively first and second.

Chicago offers great opportunity to a student of religious, industrial and social conditions, and when, by chance, I secured employment in a leading warehouse, a very good paying position, under the circumstances, I devoted all my spare time visiting the Greek quarters, incognito, and studying everything that came within my observation, and attending all kinds of public meetings of various denominations and societies, which proved a great help to me in learning the proper pronunciation of the English words, in fact for five years I did not speak five times in the Greek language.

One morning I read in the paper the following announcement: "The Knights Templar of the United States have made their plans to celebrate the 29th triennial conclave of Knights Templar to be held in San Francisco, Cal., September 4 to 9. The occasion will be of universal character, representatives from all the world; and Great Britain will send to this imposing ceremony the highest officials that control the affairs of the chivalric order of Freemasonry in the British Isles. The Earl of Euston, most eminent and supreme grand master of great priory of England and Wales and the dependencies of the British crown, were coming with credentials to represent Edward VII, the king of England." I was looking forward to my visit to California, since I left New York, but I never expected the time for me to go there would come so soon as it did. I was longing to see a great gathering of Freemasons, of this class of men, that, in every country represents the highest ideals of good citizenship.

With a few days preliminary preparations, I bade good-bye to my employer, and well supplied with recommendations from some influential friends and acquaintances which I had made in Chicago, I saw myself off to California, on the forenoon train, the 25th of June, 1904.

The trip was uneventful, excepting the unbearable heat and dust, especially going through the States of Oklahoma, Arizona and New Mexico, and the number of Indians, which, for the first time in my life I beheld in their own skin living and moving contented as though they still were the dominating race on the continent, with their square faces painted in various colors, wrapped in their blankets, and bare-footed, their feet being very much like those of a mud turtle, they were the real thing.



CHAPTER VIII

Honorable Submission

There was a time when the Eastern part of the United States looked upon San Francisco as the coming New York of the Pacific Coast, but since the disastrous earthquake in the year 1906, the stream of progress as a great commercial center has been turned rather towards the Northern Pacific Coast, yet San Francisco with its great harbor, the ever increasing commercial developments and number of other advantages, still is a magnificent attraction to the homeseeker, who for the last few years has been very sceptical in his preference on account of existing unfavorable conditions regarding the city's government which is the prey of dishonest politicians. For this and many other reasons I should never make my home within the limits of the city of San Francisco. There are beautiful localities within short distances, desirable in every respect and beyond the claws of the city hall of San Francisco.

Mount Tamalpais, I believe, is a most pleasant location for the lovers of nature. Words fail, and it is beyond the ability of my pen, to even attempt to describe, the beauties which nature has bestowed upon the Mount of Tamalpais. Situated just across the bay of San Francisco, by the way of Socialito, on the train to Mill Valley and whence on the crookedest railroad in the world, climbing 2000 feet above the tide of water, we reach the lower top of the mountain, and there we find accommodations to entertain kings and princesses, and the most eccentric Yankee. Yet, I am assured, that scarcely one-tenth of the visitors to California, have ever had the exceptional privilege to spend 24 hours, on the top of Mount Tamalpais, and thereafter all through their lives enjoy the most wonderful recollection in all God's creation.

The Alps in Europe are too stupendous to be compared with this majestically magnificent mount of Tamalpais. The Himalaya in Asia are too brutish to be considered as a rival of this gentle and illustrious sky-scraper. The Olympus and Parnassus of Greece are out of season to be paralleled with this up-to-date marvelous throne of their Majesties the Kings of America. There is the Tamalpais Hotel, a real palace, where the guests can rest and from the verandas or the windows of their own rooms observe the animating sights on the left hand side the snow-covered top-heads of the mountains and following to the right look down upon the valleys and behold the myriads of orange and lemon and all the fruit-bearing trees blooming all the year around and decorated like brides in their wedding procession, not only for a few moments, till the law ties the knot, but forever as long as the life-giving climate of beautiful California lasts and time shall be no more.

When I went up to the Mountain, looking for employment, because I wanted to locate myself in such a place, if I could, till the celebration of the Knights Templar was over, I was surprised to find that the General Manager of the Hotel and the R. R. Station was a lady, of a striking majestical appearance, she was the controlling power of the whole business on Mount Tamalpais, and she was not a suffragette either. But she was a loving mother of two beautiful children, a typical Yankee girl, well up in her teens, supervising over the chambermaids, and variously assisting her mother, and an active boy of sixteen, the good-fellow of everybody, and especially to the Chinamen employed in the kitchen. Mr. Johnson was the husband and father of this happy family, and he occupied the position of butler of the house, receiving orders from his beloved wife.

I presented my credentials to Mrs. Johnson and she, being satisfied, was very kind to give me the charge of two tables to wait upon in the dining room. It seemed as though I made good as a waiter, judging by the coins which the customers, began to forget, beneath their plates, in leaving the table, some call it tips, I called it real money.

September was well at hand, one day old, and Mrs. Johnson was very anxious to have the premises well decorated, and a big arch should be erected at the entrance, with the sign, "WELCOME," to Knights Templar, as news came from San Francisco, that the Knights were already in possession of the Golden Gate. Mrs. Johnson was almost in despair, unable to find someone among that great army of employees, to have any artistic ideas of decorating or even to make a few flower designs and put up the arch out of some green foliage. We were all green, in that respect. But as I always find myself at hand, wherever help is to be rendered, I offered my services, and by what I could remember from my friend Jack, in New York, how he could decorate everything to a good taste, I have been able to put up a nice decoration and the third of September, 1904, the flags of all nations were waving and everything was ready for the reception of the Knights Templar. Mrs. Johnson was pleased to the extent of presenting me with an extra three dollars and relieving me from the dining room, she appointed me in charge of the pavilion, an out-doors building, where the Knights Templar would privately entertain their families and lady friends. In this position I was enabled to see more of the high American life than I ever dreamed of before. The English Lord, and the Parisien Dame de Honor, were eclipsed as they would look like pygmies by the side of the sunshining, bright-hearted American gentlemen, and the sweet and graceful demigoddess American lady. But my enthusiasm reached its zenith when a gentleman from Pittsburg, in company with his ladies, after an enjoyable dinner, at the pavilion, he left under his plate a shining five dollar gold piece; at the sight of the unexpected I made a sign to which the gentleman was obliged to respond, and that settled it, there was no mistake about it, the man and I were brothers and the coin was intended as my tip. And afterwards the incident occurred repeatedly during the celebration of Knights Templar in San Francisco.

Now, if everything in this world was just a procession like that of Knights Templar in San Francisco, and everybody was happy as the people I have seen on Mount Tamalpais, then there would be no sorrow, and there would be no pain; in fact this world would be the paradise on earth. But, alas! regretful as it may be, yet it is only the simple truth, that it is only the minority that are real happy, while the vast majority of men and women and children in this world are just a mass of suffering humanity, and if the investigations of religious societies, sociologists, and psychologists, are true, the cause of all misery in this world is misconduct or misfortune, which in one word is, sin, that brings misery. And there is where my purpose in life begins. I am out against sin. But to fight sin, it is absolutely necessary to be a soldier of the man who gave his life for the salvation of all mankind.

President Emeritus Eliot of Harvard University, a man of colossal thought-machine, man, who controls the unprejudiced intellectual minds of America, in his address on "The Religion of the Future," is quoted as saying: "I venture to add that I am not at the hold of any proud world—whatever; second, that such little part of the world as I am best acquainted with loves the Lowly Nazarene—and does not hate Him; thirdly, that I have met during my life most of the sorrows which are accounted heaviest; fourth, that Jesus will be in the religion of the future, not less, but more, than in the Christianity of the past." All efforts without Jesus, trying to better the world, shall fail. It is and will be the opinion of all sane minds for many generations yet to come. This was my opinion and the only imposing motive that brought me down on my knees on the 14th of October, 1904, in a poorly furnished hall where the Salvation Army had the Sunday night's meeting. I gave my heart to Jesus, for life and for eternity, to be his and his alone. And I knew, there and then, that I was honorably converted.

To make the surrender complete I offered my services to the Salvation Army, that I should use all I had, my time and my talent, to uplift the down-fallen humanity and help to make this world better. Major Harris Connett and Adjutant Allison Coe, were the officers in charge of the Los Angeles Salvation Army and they received me into their ranks and for ten months I was engaged in this wonderful organization, visiting the sick, praying in the saloons, in the slums and everywhere doing all that I could to promote the cause of Jesus in bringing souls into his fold. But nothing gave me so great pleasure as the poor children of Los Angeles at Christmas time when I was dressed in the Santa Claus clothing distributing presents to them. I never felt happier in all my life even in the best days as a High Priest.

After passing successfully my preparatory studies in Los Angeles, word came from the Headquarters that they wanted me in the college Training Home, in Chicago, to take the course of officership; and the 15th of August, 1905, finds me sweeping the back yard at the Training Home, West Adams St., Chicago, Illinois.

Were it possible for every man and woman who pretends to be a minister of Jesus, to pass six months in any of the Training Colleges of the Salvation Army, then there should be fewer ministers, but far more useful, in the betterment of the world, than many of them that are under the present conditions.

It is the most psychological system, in these Training Colleges that brings out all the virtues that every heart possesses and every bit of iniquity that may be hidden in the personal character of the man or woman who willingly denies himself or herself of all prospects and pleasures in this world just for the only purpose to live and love and serve the suffering humanity. There are exceptions to the rule among the officers of the Salvation Army, once in a great while some one will prove unworthy to the cause, but these exceptions are common in every human institution, and they are so few in the Salvation Army that fully justifies the public confidence upon this marvelously developing great movement.

I went through the theoretical and practical work for which I could make a whole volume of the experiences in the slums of Chicago, where I had to reprove a policeman, whom I found in a saloon drinking in full uniform, while in the back room there was a girl not over fifteen years old, in the company of a most reckless middle-aged man, both exceedingly intoxicated and still drinking. I dismissed the man, and sent the girl to the rescue home, where she would be taken care of.

The 17th of January, 1906, I received my diploma as an active member of the National First Aid Association of America, and my commission as a Captain in the Salvation Army, and I was appointed in charge of No. 4 in Chicago. I went to my quarters and there was not kindling wood enough to start a fire, and no coal; and the weather 14 degrees below zero, half the glass panes of the windows broken, and everything in the house frozen, and the Corps indebted to the extent of 175 dollars, that I was expected to pay. You have to put yourself in a position of this kind in order to appreciate the circumstances under which I was placed. Yet, when everything seems dark, and there is no visible way out of the difficulty, it is then that with Jesus on our side, we shall always find some way. The first consideration in a missionary work should be to get souls converted to God. With much prayer and great faith upon the Almighty, I began my work, and when the Spirit spread all round that community and the sinners began to flock into the fold of Jesus, there was a change in a very short time. The old debt was paid, and we had comfortable quarters to lay our heads; and the roll-call of the Corps increased, and God was glorified, and there is a Corps, till this day, in Chicago, which they call the big 4 of the Salvation Army.

The San Francisco disaster came and the Salvation Army called me into its relieving department to help the sufferers. After which they appointed me assistant to the Illinois Division, where for two years I made a deeper and more thorough study of the various departments in operation.

In April, 1908, I visited England with the desire to study closer and more extensively the methods, and see for myself the great works which the Salvation Army has accomplished in the British Isles.

On my return to the United States I was appointed divisional solicitor for the Northern New England, where, splendid success was the result of my efforts, and there was a great field to work in and every opportunity to do good.

But in searching my heart's ambition I find that it was high time for me to turn all my energies toward the people for whose Salvation I was ordained a High Priest in the Church, and although the Church failed in its mission, yet, to uplift my people is still the aim of my life.

After much thought and due consideration of my obligations to the Salvation Army, I came to the conclusion that in view of the fact that following an unsuccessful correspondence with the Salvation Army, the National Headquarters refused to grant me a leave of absence, and insisted that I should go back West, while I knew that the field where I was called to fight the battle of my life was right here in New England, the best thing for me to do remained to send in my resignation, and I did so, thus thrusting myself entirely upon the hands of God.

And though as yet I have received no reply from the National Headquarters, my resignation is final, and now I am free, and my work unmolested of all denominational differences, dogmas and doctrines, which in the light of the Ecclesiastical history has always been the fatal cause of failure, in the Churches, to accomplish their mission in the Salvation of the world.



CHAPTER IX

Practical Effects of Practical Truth

The necessity of faith, as a primary element in all acceptable religious exercises, has already been noticed. A feeling of entire dependence upon God for spiritual mercy is the only right feeling, because it is the only true feeling. It is necessary, according to the foregoing view of the subject, in order to offer acceptable prayer, that man should possess a spirit of faith and dependence upon Christ. The principle upon which Christ acted in relation to this subject, as well as His instruction concerning the duty of prayer, fully confirm the preceding thoughts. He seldom performed an act of mercy, by miracle or otherwise, unless those who received the mercy could see the hand of God in the blessing:—"If thou canst believe, thou mayest be cleansed," was His habitual sentiment. As if He had said—Your desire for the blessing is manifest by your urgent request; now, if you can have faith to see God in the blessing, so that He will be honored and praised for conferring it, I will grant it; but if you have no faith, you can receive no favor.

This little book could easily occupy thrice as large a size as its present volume, had I taken into account all the blessings which God has bestowed upon my faithful prayers and upon His children, using me as an instrument of His hand. But I must content myself by referring to only two cases, which had had exceptional significance and gratifying joy not only to my own heart, but to every Christian worker.

With the individuals spoken of I am well acquainted, having frequently conversed with them all on the subjects of which I shall speak. Their words in these cases may not have been exactly remembered, but the sense is truly given.

The first case, is a story, told all by itself, and the second case, is a letter of a dear girl, whose mother was a down to the bone Roman Catholic. The daughter accidentally came to our meeting and gave her heart to Jesus. The mother thinking that the worldly pleasures might drive her newly converted daughter away from Jesus, and being very anxious to get her daughter back into the Catholic parish, she gave a party to all the young people from the same parish. And there was plenty of song and dance, but the daughter did not show up. The mother with a number of the guests went into the daughter's room where the girl in seclusion was reading her Bible; the young people almost carrying her into the reception hall, sat her upon the stool in front of the piano, earnestly asking her to play for them while they were dancing. But, the girl, lifting up to God her angelic heart and voice, she began to play and sing, softly "Nearer My God To Thee," the tears streaming down her cheeks; they were tears of joy for the saved girl, but the young people could not stand it and they ran away, while the converted girl bended on her knees in prayer for them, and her own mother's salvation.

Case 1.—For love of the Christ:—John Davis was the only child of a Chicago banker. The wealth and social prominence of his father had surrounded him with every comfort and luxury, and his growth from boyhood to incipient manhood had been tenderly watched over by his fond parents.

All the hopes of his parents were centered in their only child. Mr. Davis looked forward to the time when John would become his partner, and that his son might be fitted in every way, engaged the best tutors procurable to attend to his education. John had graduated with honors after four years of college work, which was marked by the thorough and earnest application on his part. His father watched his progress with growing pride and with fullest confidence in his son's ability, arranged to take him into partnership at the proper time.

Seemingly the future for John was one of brilliant promise. But John did not show an eager anticipation for the future as planned for him. A life devoted to business was to him a selfish one. Something within him was insistently calling him to a higher vocation; although apparently acquiescing to his father's plans, the prospect daily became more and more distasteful to him.

From his mother, a woman of singular devoutness and piety, John had received a careful religious training, and he could not reconcile the idea of a life devoted to self with the truths he had reverently accepted as his faith. Daily he met with examples of shamefully degraded manhood, of pitiful want, and of unhelped suffering. His soul went out in pity towards these unfortunate ones, and at such times the voice within imperiously summoned him to follow in the footsteps of Him whom he worshiped as Lord and Saviour.

On the other hand Reason urged filial obedience to the wishes of his father. That his mother would understand and encourage him should he heed the call of his soul, John did not for an instant doubt. Not less clearly, however, did he recognize the attitude his father would take to such a course; for his father, while refraining from scoffing at beliefs cherished by his wife and friends, made no secret of his own disbelief in them.

The life which would appear to his mother and himself as noblest of all would seem quixotic and senseless to his father. Besides, his father had set his heart on John's becoming his partner in business. John dreaded to disappoint him, yet stronger and stronger grew the call of that inner voice which now all but dominated him.

One evening as he sat with his parents he surprised them by saying: "Now that I have finished my college course it is time for me to choose my vocation, to strive to be of benefit to my fellow men."

"All arrangements have been made, John," responded Mr. Davis, "you may begin at once if you so desire. Your mother and I thought, however, that you were entitled to a vacation after your college work. However we can use you at the bank the moment you are ready," laughed Mr. Davis.

"That is just what I desire to talk over with you, father," returned John. "For weeks I have felt that the future you have designed for me is too narrow—too selfish. With my Master's Call sounding in my ears, the thought of devoting my life to any business, however high its position in the eyes of the world, is intolerably repugnant.

"I know how firmly your heart has been set upon my joining you in business, and I cannot tell you how hard it is for me to disappoint you at this late hour, but Christ has called me to preach to His people. I feel and know that only in so doing shall I find true happiness and contentment.

"You surely, father, will not oppose my doing that which every fibre of my body tells me is my duty."

The eyes of Mrs. Davis filled with glad tears, and a prayer for Divine guidance for her son went up from her heart; but annoyance and displeasure plainly showed on Mr. Davis' face. At length he said:

"I had thought it definitely settled that you were to assist me, and on the strength of that belief I have made several important changes in my business with the view of affording a proper position for you. Your decision declining to accept it will inconvenience me not a little.

"With all due consideration for your religious beliefs, I feel it my duty as your father, John, to express my disappointment of the profession you at present seem inclined to adopt. However you are entering man's estate, and it is for you to decide as to your career. I shall, however, insist upon one thing: that you take a good vacation before making your final decision.

"If, upon your return you are of the same mind, I shall not oppose you, although to speak frankly, John, I am not a little disappointed.

"Anyway a good western trip will greatly benefit you, and I shall not be at all surprised if on your return your conception of your duty has undergone important modifications." As if signifying that he desired to discuss the subject no farther, Mr. Davis rose and left the room.

Keenly feeling his father's disappointment and displeasure, John instinctively turned to his mother for sympathy. Mrs. Davis stepped to his side and with a fond caress said:

"Thank God you have made this choice; I shall do all in my power to help you."

"Thank you, mother dear. I believe you understand me, and know how sincere is my desire to do what I can for my fellow men.

"I do so long to lead some of them to Christ; for many are wandering in darkness, just waiting for some one to reach them a helping hand.

"In deference to father's wishes I shall take a vacation; though it can by no possibility alter my determination. On my return I shall begin active work without delay.

"I have education enough to preach the simple truths of God's love. I wish to preach to sinners, not to saints. I shall ask no salary and have no denomination. My Church will be Christ."

After tenderly embracing his mother, during which the souls of mother and son united in a prayer to the Most High, John bade her "Good night" and retired.

The following week found John on his way to South Dakota, his plan being to make his first stop of any length at Aberdeen.

He arrived there at night and the following morning mounted his bicycle for a trip through the surrounding country.

It was a new world to him. His first thought was: how splendid the roads were for wheeling, they seemed even better than the paved streets of the city.

He cast his eyes over his surroundings. On all sides was the vast expanse of prairie, ending only in the horizon—the fields of grass and grain, moving in the wind like the waves of the sea; overhead the blue sky, stretching out in a dome unbroken by hill or forest. The sun above him seemed to shine with a brighter splendor than he had before known.

The beauties of nature filled the soul of this city-bred youth with wonder and admiration.

He rode on and on.

At one moment the joyous song of a lark captivated him; at another, the capering of some colts, or a sleek herd of cattle quietly grazing in a nearby pasture attracted his attention; or a colony of prairie gophers which dived excitedly into their burrows at his approach, amused him with their antics.

At last he began to wonder how far he had gone.

Seeing nearby a large, well kept farm-house, he rode up to it, to procure such rest and refreshment as it might afford him, before undertaking his long ride back to town.

His knock at the door was answered by a beautiful girl, apparently about fifteen years of age. John explained his errand to her, and requested such courtesies as could be granted without putting the people of the house to undue inconvenience.

The girl expressed her regrets that her parents were away in town, but saying that she expected them home very soon, she invited him in, and ushered him into a cool, spacious sitting-room.

Mutual introductions followed and John learned that the name of his fair young hostess was Lily Long, "but," said she, with a slight blush, "father calls me the Queen of the Prairie."

They visited together for some little time, until Lily, exclaiming that her father and mother were coming, went out to greet them.

Left to himself, John glanced around him.

An old-fashioned piano stood in one corner of the room. He noted also an ample, well filled book-case at one end of the room.

"Music, books, and Prairie Queen. If this is a typical example of country life, I must say that I rather like it."

Mr. and Mrs. Long greeted him heartily and gave him a cordial invitation to stay to dinner—an invitation which he gratefully accepted.

And what a dinner it was; vegetables fresh gathered from the garden in abundance; fried chicken prepared as only a farmer's wife can prepare it; and the countless other good things which go to make dinner on the farm. To this dinner John brought an appetite sharpened by his brisk morning ride; he did full justice to the tempting viands, nor could he remember so thoroughly enjoying a dinner before.

Everything on the farm was so clean and well arranged that John began to wish he could board there instead of in town during the remainder of his visit; so when they had adjourned to the sitting-room, he informed Mr. Long of his wish, and asked if it were possible.

"But before you answer me," he added, "I should like to make myself better known to you."

Then he told them of his father and mother, of his own youth, and of his college life. A natural question on the part of Mr. Long as to what brought him so far West led to an explanation from John, who presently found himself telling his new-found friends his future plans and ambitions.

"My boy," said Mr. Long, reaching out his hand, "I honor you for your choice. You are welcome to share our home as long as you care to stay."

Mrs. Long wiped her eyes as she pressed John to stay with them, for she thought of her own son whom God had called home.

Lily must have been thinking of him too, for she said: "I am glad you are going to stay, for then I can play you are my brother."

"I certainly shall be proud to be your brother," John answered gallantly.

That evening when the family gathered for prayers, Lily took her seat at the old piano. Then John realized why they called her "Queen," for never had he heard such a magnificent voice, so sweet, so soft, and so full of feeling. It seemed as though she carried them nearer Heaven with her song.

Before John retired he wrote to his mother, telling her of the home he had found, and of "The Queen of the Prairie." This rather amused Mrs. Davis, for hitherto, John had had little to say in praise of young ladies, although he was a favorite among them.

The summer passed merrily on, and John's vacation was drawing near its close, when one morning he received a telegram telling him that his mother was dangerously sick. The message filled him with anxious foreboding, and he quickly prepared to return home at once.

Tears were on Mrs. Long's cheeks as she helped him pack, for she had not realized before to what an extent John had taken her own boy's place in her heart. His own eyes were moist as he bade her farewell, promising to return as soon as possible.

Mr. Long was ready with a team to drive him to town, and Lily was standing beside her father. She raised a tear-stained face to him, and said: "Goodbye, dear brother, we shall miss you."

John was not ashamed of his own tears, for this little girl who called him "Brother," had grown dearer to him than all the world. He stooped and reverently kissed her snow white brow, then sprang in the buggy and was gone.

When John reached home, his father met him at the door. Mr. Davis' face was ghastly pale; he had grown old with grief.

John's eyes asked the question his lips could not frame.

"She still lives, but the doctor says she cannot last long," said his father in answer to his son's mute appeal.

"She is paralyzed. She will probably recognize you, but she can neither speak nor move."

Without speaking John went to his mother's bedside, and saw that this was indeed true. His mother lay as one dead. A faint spark of recognition showed in her fast dimming eyes as he approached but other signs of life there were none.

Overcome with grief, John stood motionless at the bedside.

Then in agony he turned to Him who faileth not, he fell on his knees and prayed reverently for his mother's recovery.

His father tried to lead him away, but John continued to pray.

Then suddenly in that hour of anguish the grief-stricken man found his God. Kneeling at his son's side, he implored mercy from Him whom hitherto he had denied.

All at once Mrs. Davis spoke, "My son."

The doctor hastened to her side.

In a moment he turned to Mr. Davis and said, "She is better, she will live."

Dr. Gordon was an unbeliever, but at that moment he realized that something had control of life, which could act after science had failed.

He looked at John who had not yet risen from his knees, at Mr. Davis who was pouring out thanks to the God he had just found, then at the woman who had been saved at the point of death.

Like a flash came to him the knowledge of a merciful Christ, and he joined the father and son in their prayer of thanksgiving.

Mrs. Davis rapidly recovered her health, and John soon entered upon his life work. He received hearty encouragement from his father this time, for Mr. Davis had learned the Truth and found his God at the bedside of his dying wife in such a way as to leave no place in his heart for opposition to work in His service.

John's work was among the poor. He visited from house to house, preaching and praying, and extending material help when such help was most needed.

His sincerity and earnestness were the means of bringing light into many darkened lives, and the message of Christ crucified was eagerly received in response to his pleadings.

At one broken-down house he was met by a frail woman who carried a half-starved child in her arms. It was plainly apparent that in better days she had been a handsome and refined woman.

John introduced himself and asked if he could be of any help to her.

"No," she answered, "I am afraid you cannot aid me. I am Rose Williams. My father is a man of wealth. He is living today in luxury in a neighboring city, and if I would leave my husband I could be clothed in silk and satin instead of these rags, but as long as I stay with him, my father will not help me, not even to keep me from starving. But I would rather starve with my husband than leave him to kill himself with drink, for I love him.

"Drink is the cause of all my poverty and misery. Oh, if Ralph would only let it alone."

She ended her story in a frenzied cry which plainly showed the tension to which she had been wrought, but John's voice was low and soothing as he said, "Suppose you and I pray for your husband. I have great faith in the power of prayer. Shall we not pray together?"

Together they knelt down, and offered up an earnest prayer. Mrs. Williams spoke in low tones at first, then with great excitement. At last she tried to rise, but fell in a swoon on the floor. John placed her on a couch in the room and sent at once for Dr. Gordon.

After his examination, Dr. Gordon looked serious.

"This is going to be a bad case of brain fever, John. From all appearances it has been hastened by lack of proper food, but she may pull through if she has proper care."



John saw that the service of the physician was only part of what was needed for the woman's safety.

He went out and procured bedding and food, and his mother sent over one of her maids, also a trained nurse.

Soon things were made comfortable for Mrs. Williams, but she could not rest.

In her delirium she called continually for Ralph to come home and bring her something to eat.

And where was Ralph? For three days he had been laying in a drunken stupor in the cellar of a saloon, but this evening he had sobered somewhat, and remorse for his cruel neglect of his wife and children was finding a place in his heart. He recalled the starving condition in which he had left them.

Perhaps for the first time he began to realize how dearly his wife must love him to give up the pleasure and luxury of her girlhood home for him, and there in that room not fit for cattle, this man cried out in his anguish, "Oh, God, protect my wife and forgive me."

He started at once for home but as he neared the house his heart was filled with fear, his head began to whirl. Where was Rose? Why was everything so still?

He opened the door and was met by a little girl dressed in white and with golden curls.

How beautiful she was; she ran to him and cried, "Papa has come, Papa has come!"

Then he knew she was his own little daughter.

She led him to the bed on which lay his wife, but the only words which greeted him were, "Ralph come home and bring us something to eat."

He called her name but she heard him not.

Again he spoke: "Dear Rose, forgive me, forgive me."

Dr. Gordon laid his hand on the shoulder of the stricken man and said: "Ask your God to forgive you, your wife knows not what you say."

He looked at the doctor a moment, then said in a low voice, "I did that before I started home. God has forgiven me and saved me. But tell me what I can do for my poor wife."

It was indeed true, Ralph Williams was a changed man. The God who had heard the prayers of the father and son at the dying woman's bedside, and restored her to them, vouchsafed his mercy to the starving wife who prayed for her drink-sodden husband, and in answer to it the dulled conscience of the husband was aroused.

Slowly Mrs. Williams improved, until one morning she said: "Is this Heaven, and are Ralph and my children here?"

"Yes, Rose," her husband replied, "Ralph and the children are here, and henceforth I will do all I can to make this home Heaven on earth."

* * * * *

The years rolling by saw John still fighting the fight for his Maker. Out of the gratitude Ralph Williams had felt for the Divine mercy shown him, had sprung a determination to do all in his power towards uplifting others. John eagerly accepted his services, and thus the nucleus of a rapidly growing power for good was formed.

As more and more came to know the meaning of "Christ Crucified," they entered heart and soul into the work of spreading the truth to others and soon a mightly cohort of Christian workers spread over the city. Individually and with them John labored night and day sustained by his faith and enthusiasm.

The work of directing the efforts of so many, the nightly vigil at the bedside of sick and dying, the continual breathing of the vitiated air of the lower quarters of the city, gradually sapped the strength of John, who did not know the meaning of fatigue when a call on the service of his Christ sounded.

At last an attack of nervous prostration made him realize his position, and yielding to the importunities of his parents and fellow-workers, he consented to take a vacation.

Where should he go but to the broad, sunny prairies of Dakota, to his dearly remembered friends, the Longs and Lily.

She met him with outstretched arms and a glad smile of welcome. With the glory of dawning womanhood about her she was more than ever the "Queen of the Prairie," but by the soft light in her eyes John saw that she was still his Lily.

During the long pleasant vacation which followed, John gained strength and vigor once more, and its close found him ably equipped to take up Christ's work once more.

Mr. and Mrs. Long were doubly sorrowful at their second parting from him, for his heart had found its mate and Lily was accompanying him.

He had gained a lovely bride, and more than that, an enthusiastic helpmate.

Together they took up the work where John had left it. Ere long the erstwhile "Queen of the Prairie" was known as "Angel of the Poor," for her womanly sympathy could often find its way into darkness which even John's earnestness failed to penetrate.

One Friday night they both came to take part in our holiness meeting, and the Spirit revealed to them that should they submit all their powers unreservedly to the will of God, He could use them to still higher and more effective purposes of the cause of Jesus. So, John and Lily, side by side, came out at the altar and offered their lives and their services to Jesus for time and for eternity, they, becoming active members in my corps, and a great blessing to the suffering humanity in that community.

Case 2.—The following letter was received from the girl already mentioned, as the daughter of a Roman Catholic woman, who tried to drive her converted daughter, by the worldly pleasures, away from Jesus:

"Chicago, Ill., Oct. 5, 1906.

Captain Golden, Salvation Army.

Dear Friend:

I feel that I must let you know what the Lord has done for me, 'through you.'

Why I ever went to the Salvation Army meeting is more than I know, because I have always been told that the Salvation Army was nothing more than street beggars and a great deal more.

So I never went to their meetings until I went to No. 4, and I do sincerely thank God that I went, because now I can see how far from the Lord I was wandering and so unintentionally because I never meant to be a sinner, but I just wanted to have a good time. But now, I can see where some of those good times lead us.

Captain, I often think how brave you must have been to go on with the work at No. 4, with so little help, 'that is, earthly help.' I am sorry that I could not help you, but you see I was not brave like you. I could not talk about Jesus to those who scoffed, but I do want Jesus to help me and strengthen me to do His will. Captain, do you know there is a song that always come to me when I am in any difficulty, 'Lead Me Saviour.'

Yours sincerely,

FLOY MAYHEN, 2207, 63d St., Chicago."

It is simply wonderful, that there is no one to lead us like the Saviour, dear Jesus. Who died on Calvary's Cross for our redemption. And now, dear reader, just a word to you. This volume is written for you; if you are a converted Christian enjoying the blessings of a clean heart, indeed, blessed you are, for "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." But, if for some reason, if there can be a reason for not being saved, you kept back until this hour, I pray that you may go down upon your knees, at this very moment, just as you are, and open your heart to God, and let Jesus come in: and I know and you will know that the remaining days of your life will be sweet and happy; and when the roll is called up yonder you'll be there, in a robe of white with the angels in the air to meet the Lamb of God, Who will say unto all that loved Him and worked for Him, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant: enter thou into the joy of Thy Lord."



CHAPTER X

Greek-Amerikan-Christian-Association

It is said, by Him who never told a lie, that every tree is known by its own fruit, and the confirmation of the statement is conclusive to the student of natural and human history.

It was an idea of King Maximilian of Bavaria, to transmit to history a reminder of his reign. He instructed the architects of Germany to design a new style to be named after him. Such a style of Maximilianesque was created. An architect—it was Semper, if I am not mistaken—when asked to take a part in this creation of the so-called Maximilian style, answered that such a thing could not be made to order, that a style of building is the consequence of the history, the culture, life, and doings of a great period of people. If such be the case with a style of architecture, how much more must it be the case in regard to religion?

The history of this style of Maximilian's is, that it has no history, and consequently all efforts of pursuing eminent architects to adopt the Maximilian style failed. This short history is that of the attempts to create a very much needed world religion. It is not the dogma nor the doctrines or the profession that will make it possible for all right thinking minds to unite efforts in building a universal religion, sufficient to satisfy the intellectual want of every people and of every time. Attempts, all-powerful, such as Papism and Mohammedanism, failed in their egotistic purposes to enforce upon the world an exotic structure. Neither the fires of Torquemadas, nor the sword of Islam could deter the bravery of civilization. The blood that was spilled by the millions of martyrs of the lowly Nazarene served to make the history of the man who died upon the Cross, more effective and heartfelt world-need for the only aristurgimatical shrine in which all human families may live in peace and prosperity.

At a time when the world was imperilled by the treatment accorded to Galileo for believing in the motion of the earth; and though 69 years of age he was cast, by the tools of Vatican, into a dungeon, where he lost his sight and ultimately his life; and Copernicus was facing the same fate, for accomplishing a noble astronomical discovery; and Martin Luther was persecuted by the Roman Catholic church, for trying to bring the people nearer to God. The Greeks, a brave people, who, in the face of starvation, for lack of food, and horrified by the sword of the conqueror, dishonored in their holiest sacreds, pure maidens slain after being used in the most beastly way, mothers put to death after their children were torn off into shreds of flesh under the sword of the barbarous Turk, young people and old aged having no rescuing place to escape from horror and death; when all crowned heads of Europe should bow on their knees and kiss the slipper of the holy father before they could attain their rights to the throne of their own kingdoms; when all the known world was trembling equally in the name of Mohammed and Pope, these people (the Greeks) stood up, and with all the strength that was left in their lungs, they cried out, "we prefer political slavery rather than to be the slaves of the Pope," and for more than three centuries the Greeks suffered such a martyrdom which if only printed it would be more than a human heart could bear.

The history of Greece shall remain until the end of time, and as the peoples of the world grow intelligently and intellectually more enlightened they will come to the appreciation of the fact that the Greek people has contributed more material in paving the way to the spiritual freedom and the individual liberty of the world than any other nation on the face of the earth, and that the Greek spirit is still living and ruling in principle in the very heart of the civilized world.

It is essential that every nation in making up the list of its benefactors should give the first place to the most distinguished one. In accordance to the general law the Greek nation of today not only owes its literary language, in part at least, to the exertions of the great patriot Korais, but to him is accredited the prophecy, that, "the Greek nation shall never be great again, unless regenerated in Christ."