The journalist who would fully perform his duty must be not only incorruptible, but ever alert, for those who are trying to misuse the newspapers are able to deceive "the very elect." Whenever any movement is on foot for the securing of legislation desired by the predatory interests, or when restraining legislation is threatened, news bureaus are established at Washington, and these news bureaus furnish to such papers as will use them free reports, daily or weekly as the case may be, from the national capitol—reports which purport to give general news, but which in fact contain arguments in support of the schemes which the bureaus are organized to advance. This ingenious method of misleading the public is only a part of the general plan which favour-holding and favour-seeking corporations pursue.

Demosthenes declared that the man who refuses a bribe conquers the man who offers it. According to this, the journalist who resists the many temptations which come to him to surrender his ideals has the consciousness of winning a moral victory as well as the satisfaction of knowing that he is rendering a real service to his fellows.

The profession for which I was trained—the law—presents another line of temptations. The court-room is a soul's market where many barter away their ideals in the hope of winning wealth or fame. Lawyers sometimes boast of the number of men whose acquittal they have secured when they knew them to be guilty, and of advantages won which they knew their clients did not deserve. I do not understand how a lawyer can so boast, for he is an officer of the court and, as such, is sworn to assist in the administration of justice. When a lawyer has helped his client to obtain all that his client is entitled to, he has done his full duty as a lawyer, and, if he goes beyond this, he goes at his own peril. Show me a lawyer who has spent a lifetime trying to obscure the line between right and wrong—trying to prove that to be just which he knew to be unjust, and I will show you a man who has grown weaker in character year by year, and whose advice, at last, will be of no value to his clients, for he will have lost the power to discern between right and wrong. Show me, on the other hand, a lawyer who has spent a lifetime in the search for truth, determined to follow where it leads, and I will show you a man who has grown stronger in character day by day and whose advice constantly becomes more valuably to his client, because the power to discern the truth increases with the honest search for it.

Not only in the court-room, but in the consultation chamber also the lawyer sometimes yields to the temptation to turn his talents to a sordid use. The schemes of spoliation that defy the officers of the law are, for the most part, inaugurated and directed by legal minds. I was speaking on this very subject in one of the great cities of the country and at the close of the address, a prominent judge commended my criticism and declared that most of the lawyers practicing in his court were constantly selling their souls.

The lawyer's position is scarcely less responsible than the position of the journalist; if the journalists and lawyers of the country could be brought to abstain from the practices by which the general public is overreached, it would be an easy matter to secure the remedial legislation necessary to protect the producing masses from the constant spoliation to which they are now subjected by the privileged classes.

If a man who is planning a train-robbery takes another along to hold a horse at a convenient distance, we say that the man who holds the horse is equally guilty with the man who robs the train; and the time will come when public opinion will hold as equally guilty with the plunderers of society the lawyers and journalists who assist the plunderers to escape.

I would not be forgiven if I failed to apply my theme to the work of the instructor. The purpose of education is not merely to develop the mind; it is to prepare men and women for society's work and for citizenship. The ideals of the teacher, therefore, are of the first importance. The pupil is apt to be as much influenced by what his teacher is as by what the teacher says or does. The measure of a school cannot be gathered from an inspection of the examination papers; the conception of life which the graduate carries away must be counted in estimating the benefits conferred. The pecuniary rewards of the teacher are usually small when compared with the rewards of business. This may be due in part to our failure to properly appreciate the work which the teacher does, but it may be partially accounted for by the fact that the teacher derives from his work a satisfaction greater than that obtained from most other employments.

The teacher comes into contact with the life of the student and, as our greatest joy is derived from the consciousness of having benefited others, the teacher rightly counts as a part of his compensation the continuing pleasure to be found in the knowledge that he is projecting his influence through future generations. The heart plays as large a part as the head in the teacher's work, because the heart is an important factor in every life and in the shaping of the destiny of the race. I fear the plutocracy of wealth; I respect the aristocracy of learning; but I thank God for the democracy of the heart. It is upon the heart level that we meet; it is by the characteristics of the heart that we best know and best remember each other. Astronomers tell us the distance of each star from the earth, but no mathematician can calculate the influence which a noble teacher may exert upon posterity. And yet, even the teacher may fall from his high estate, and, forgetting his immeasurable responsibility, yield to the temptation to estimate his work by its pecuniary reward. Just now some of the teachers are—let us hope, unconsciously—undermining the religious faith of students by substituting the guesses of Darwin for the Word of God.

Let me turn for a moment from the profession and the occupation to the calling. I am sure I shall not be accused of departing from the truth when I say that even those who minister to our spiritual wants and, as our religious leaders, help to fix our standards of morality, sometimes prove unfaithful to their trust. They are human, and the frailities of man obscure the light which shines from within, even when that light is a reflection from the throne of God.

We need more Elijahs in the pulpit to-day—more men who will dare to upbraid an Ahab and defy a Jezebel. It is possible, aye, probable, that even now, as of old, persecutions would follow such boldness of speech, but he who consecrates himself to religion must smite evil wherever he finds it, although in smiting it he may risk his salary and his social position. It is easy enough to denounce the petty thief and the back-alley gambler; it is easy enough to condemn the friendless rogue and the penniless wrong-doer, but what about the rich tax-dodger, the big lawbreaker, and the corrupter of government? The soul that is warmed by divine fire will be satisfied with nothing less than the complete performance of duty; it must cry aloud and spare not, to the end that the creed of the Christ may be exemplified in the life of the nation.

We need Elijahs now to face the higher critics. Instead of allowing the materialists to cut the supernatural out of the Bible the ministers should demand that the unsupported guesses be cut out of school-books dealing with science.

Not only does the soul question present itself to individuals, but it presents itself to groups of individuals as well.

Let us consider the party. A political party cannot be better than its ideal; in fact, it is good in proportion as its ideal is worthy, and its place in history is determined by its adherence to a high purpose. The party is made for its members, not the members for the party; and a party is useful, therefore, only as it is a means through which one may protect his rights, guard his interests and promote the public welfare. The best service that a man can render his party is to raise its ideals. He basely betrays his party's hopes and is recreant to his duty to his party associates who seeks to barter away a noble party purpose for temporary advantages or for the spoils of office. It would be a reflection upon the intelligence and patriotism of the people to assert, or even to assume, that lasting benefit could be secured for a party by the lowering of its standards. He serves his party most loyally who serves his country most faithfully; it is a fatal error to suppose that a party can be permanently benefited by a betrayal of the people's interests.

In every act of party life and party strife we weigh the soul. That the people have a right to have what they want in government is a fundamental principle in free government. Corruption in government comes from the attempt to substitute the will of a minority for the will of the majority. Every important measure that comes up for consideration involves justice and injustice—right and wrong—and is, therefore, a question of conscience. As justice is the basis of a nation's strength and gives it hope of perpetuity, and, as the seeds of decay are sown whenever injustice enters into government, patriotism as well as conscience leads us to analyze every public question, ascertain the moral principle involved and then cast our influence, whether it be great or small, on the side of justice.

The patriot must desire the triumph of that which is right above the triumph of that which he may think to be right if he is, in fact, mistaken; and so the partizan, if he be an intelligent partizan, must be prepared to rejoice in his party's defeat if by that defeat his country is the gainer. One can afford to be in a minority, but he cannot afford to be wrong; if he is in a minority and right, he will some day be in the majority.

The activities of politics center about the election of candidates to office, and the official, under our system, represents both the party to which he belongs and the whole body of his constituency. He has two temptations to withstand; first, the temptation to substitute his own judgment for the judgment of his constituents, and second, the temptation to put his pecuniary interests above the interests of those for whom he acts. According to the aristocratic idea, the representative thinks for his constituents; according to the Democratic idea, the representative thinks with his constituents. A representative has no right to defeat the wishes of those who elect him, if he knows their wishes.

But a representative is not liable to knowingly misrepresent his constituents unless he has pecuniary interests adverse to theirs. This is the temptation to be resisted—this is the sin to be avoided. The official who uses his position to secure a pecuniary advantage over the public is an embezzler of power—and an embezzler of power is as guilty of moral turpitude as the embezzler of money. There is no better motto for the public official than that given by Solomon: "A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold." There is no better rule for the public official to follow than this—to do nothing that he would not be willing to have printed in the newspaper next day.

One who exercises authority conferred upon him by the suffrages of his fellows ought to be fortified in his integrity by the consciousness of the fact that a betrayal of his trust is hurtful to the party which honours him and unjust to the people whom he serves, as well as injurious to himself. Nothing that he can gain, not even the whole world, can compensate him for the loss that he suffers in the surrender of a high ideal of public duty.

In conclusion, let me say that the nation, as well as the individual, and the party, must be measured by its purpose, its ideals and its service. "Let him who would be chiefest among you, be the servant of all," was intended for nations as well as for citizens. Our nation is the greatest in the world and the greatest of all time, because it is rendering a larger service than any other nation is rendering or has rendered. It is giving the world ideals in education, in social life, in government, and in religion. It is the teacher of nations; it is the world's torch-bearer. Here the people are more free than elsewhere to "try all things and hold fast that which is good"; "to know the truth" and to find freedom in that knowledge. No material considerations should blind us to our nation's mission, or turn us aside from the accomplishment of the great work which has been reserved for us. Our fields bring forth abundantly and the products of our farms furnish food for many in the Old World. Our mills and looms supply an increasing export, but these are not our greatest asset. Our most fertile soil is to be found in the minds and the hearts of our people; our most important manufacturing plants are not our factories, with their smoking chimneys, but our schools, our colleges and our churches, which take in a priceless raw material and turn out the most valuable finished product that the world has known.

We enjoy by inheritance, or by choice, the blessings of American citizenship; let us not be unmindful of the obligations which these blessings impose. Let us not become so occupied in the struggle for wealth or in the contest for honours as to repudiate the debt that we owe to those who have gone before us and to those who bear with us the responsibilities that rest upon the present generation. Society has claims upon us; our country makes demands upon our time, our thought and our purpose. We cannot shirk these duties without disgrace to ourselves and injury to those who come after us. If one is tempted to complain of the burdens borne by American citizens, let him compare them with the much larger burdens imposed by despots upon their subjects.

I challenge the doctrine, now being taught, that we must enter into a mad rivalry with the Old World in the building of battleships—the doctrine that the only way to preserve peace is to get ready for wars that ought never to come! It is a barbarous, brutal, un-Christian doctrine—the doctrine of the darkness, not the doctrine of the dawn.

Nation after nation, when at the zenith of its power, has proclaimed itself invincible because its army could shake the earth with its tread and its ships could fill the seas, but these nations are dead, and we must build upon a different foundation if we would avoid their fate.

Carlyle, in the closing chapters of his "French Revolution," says that thought is stronger than artillery parks and at last moulds the world like soft clay, and then he adds that back of thought is love. Carlyle is right. Love is the greatest power in the world. The nations that are dead boasted that people bowed before their flag; let us not be content until our flag represents sentiments so high and holy that the oppressed of every land will turn their faces toward that flag and thank God that it stands for self-government and for the rights of man.

The enlightened conscience of our nation should proclaim as the country's creed that "righteousness exalteth a nation" and that justice is a nation's surest defense. If there ever was a nation it is ours—if there ever was a time it is now—to put God's truth to a test. With an ocean rolling on either side and a mountain range along either coast that all the armies of the world could never climb we ought not to be afraid to trust in "the wisdom of doing right."

Our government, conceived in liberty and purchased with blood, can be preserved only by constant vigilance. May we guard it as our children's richest legacy, for what shall it profit our nation if it shall gain the whole world and lose "the spirit that prizes liberty as the heritage of all men in all lands everywhere"?



VII

THREE PRICELESS GIFTS

The Bible differs from all other books in that it never wears out. Other books are read and laid aside, but the Bible is a constant companion. No matter how often we read it or how familiar we become with it, some new truth is likely to spring out at us from its pages whenever we open it, or some old truth will impress us as it never did before. Every Christian can give illustrations of this. Permit me to refer briefly to four. My first religious address, "The Prince of Peace," was the outgrowth of a chance rereading of a passage in Isaiah. This I have referred to in my lecture entitled "His Government and Peace."

The argument presented in my lecture on the Bible, in which I defend the inspiration of the Book of Books, was the outgrowth of a chance rereading of Elijah's prayer test. I was preparing an address for the celebration of the Tercentenary of the King James' Translation when, on the train, I turned by chance to Elijah's challenge to the prophets of Baal. It suggested to me what I regard as an unanswerable argument, namely, a challenge to those who reject the Bible to put their theory to the test and produce a book, the equal of the Bible, or admit one of two alternatives, either that the Bible comes from a source higher than man or that man has so degenerated that less can be expected of him now than nineteen hundred years ago.

In preparing a Sunday-school lesson on Abraham's faith I was so impressed with the influence of faith on the life of the patriarch and, through him, on the world, that I prepared a college address on "Faith," a part of which I have reproduced in my lecture on "The Spoken Word."

It was a chance rereading of an extract from the account of the Ten Lepers which led me to prepare the lecture reproduced in this chapter. The subject to which I invite your attention is as important to-day as it was when the Master laid emphasis upon it. As He approached a certain village ten lepers met Him; they recognized Him and cried out, "Jesus, Master, have mercy upon us." He healed them; when they found that they had been made whole, one of them turned back and, falling on his face at Jesus' feet, poured forth his heart in grateful thanks. Christ, noticing the absence of the others, inquired, "Were there not ten cleansed, but where are the nine?" This simple question has come echoing down through nineteen centuries, the most stinging rebuke ever uttered against the sin of ingratitude. If the lepers had been afflicted with a disease easily cured, they might have said, "Any one could have healed us," but only Christ could restore them to health, and yet, when they had received of His cleansing power, they apparently felt no sense of obligation; at least, they expressed no gratitude.

Some one has described ingratitude as a meaner sin than revenge—the explanation being that revenge is repayment of evil with evil, while ingratitude is repayment of good with evil. If you visit revenge upon one, it is because he has injured you first and the law takes notice of provocation. Ingratitude is lack of appreciation of a favour shown; it is indifference to a kindness done.

Ingratitude is so common a sin that few have occupied the pulpit for a year without using the story of the Ten Lepers as the basis of a sermon; and one could speak upon this theme every Sunday in the year without being compelled to repeat himself, so infinite in number are the illustrations. Those who speak of ingratitude usually begin with the child. A child is born into the world the most helpless of all creatures; for years it could not live but for the affectionate and devoted care of parents, or of those who stand in the place of parents. If, when it grows up, it becomes indifferent; if its heart grows cold, and it becomes ungrateful, it arouses universal indignation. Poets and writers of prose have exhausted all the epithets in their effort to describe an ungrateful child. Shakespeare's words are probably those most quoted:

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child."

But it is not my purpose to speak of thankless children; I shall rather make application of the rebuke to the line of work in which I have been engaged. For some thirty years my time, by fate or fortune, has been devoted largely to the study and discussion of the problems of government, and I have had occasion to note the apathy and indifference of citizens. I have seen reforms delayed and the suffering of the people prolonged by lack of vigilance. Let us, therefore, consider together for a little while some of the priceless gifts that come to us because we live under the Stars and Stripes—gifts so valuable that they cannot be estimated in figures or described in language—gifts which are received and enjoyed by many without any sense of obligation, and without any resolve to repay the debt due to society.

These gifts are many, but we shall have time for only three. The first is education; it is a gift rather than an acquirement. It comes into our lives when we are too young to decide such questions for ourselves. I sometimes meet a man who calls himself "self-made," and I always want to cross-examine him. I would ask him when he began to make himself, and how he laid the foundations of his greatness. As a matter of fact, we inherit more than we ourselves can add. It means more to be born of a race with centuries of civilization back of it than anything that we ourselves can contribute. And, next to that which we inherit, comes that which enters our lives through the environment of youth. In this country the child is so surrounded by opportunities, that it enters school as early as the law will permit. It does not go to school, it is sent to school, and we are so anxious that it shall lose no time that, if there is ever a period in the child's life when the mother is uncertain as to its exact age, this is the time. I heard of a little boy, who, when asked how old he was, replied, "I am five on the train, seven in school and six at home." The child is pushed through grade after grade, and, according to the statistics, a little more than ninety per cent, of the children drop out of school before they are old enough to decide educational questions for themselves. They are scarcely more than fourteen.

Taking the country over, a little less than one in ten of the children who enter our graded school ever enter high school, and not quite one in fifty enter college or university. As many who enter college do not complete the course, I am not far from the truth when I say that only about one young man in one hundred continues his education until he reaches the age—twenty-one—when the law assumes that his reason is mature. I am emphasizing these statistics in order to show that we are indebted to others more than to ourselves for our education. That which we do would not be done but for what others have already done. Even those who secure an education in spite of difficulties have received from some one the idea that makes them appreciate the value of an education.

When we are born we find an educational system here; we do not devise it, it was established by a generation long since dead. When we are ready to attend school we find a schoolhouse already built; we do not build it, it was erected by the taxpayers, many of whom are dead. When we are ready for instruction we find teachers prepared by others, many of whom have passed to their reward.

How do we feel when we complete our education? Do we count the cost to others and think of the sacrifices they have made for our benefit? Do we estimate the strength that education has brought to us and feel that we should put that strength under heavier loads? We are raised by our study to an intellectual eminence from which we can secure a clearer view of the future; do we feel that we should be like watchmen upon the tower and warn those less fortunate of the dangers that they do not yet discern? We should, but do we? I venture to assert that more than nine out of ten of those who receive into their lives, and profit by, the gift of education are as ungrateful as the nine lepers of whom the Bible tells us—they receive, they enjoy, but they give no thanks.

But it is even worse than this; the Bible does not say that any one of the nine lepers used for the injury of his fellows the strength that Christ gave back to him. All that is said is that they were ungrateful; but how about those who go out from our colleges and universities? Are not many of these worse than ungrateful? I would not venture to use my own language here; I will quote what others have said.

Wendell Phillips was one of the learned men of Massachusetts and a great orator. In his address on the "Scholar in a Republic," he said that "The people make history while the scholars only write it." And then he added, "part truly and part as coloured by their prejudices."

Woodrow Wilson, while president of Princeton University, said:

"The great voice of America does not come from seats of learning. It comes in a murmur from the hills and woods, and the farms and factories and the mills, rolling on and gaining volume until it comes to us from the homes of common men. Do these murmurs echo in the corridors of our universities? I have not heard them."

President Roosevelt, while in the White House, presented an even stronger indictment against some of the scholars. In a speech delivered to law students at Harvard he declared that there was scarcely a great conspiracy against the public welfare that did not have Harvard brains behind it. He need not have gone to Harvard to utter this terrific indictment against college graduates; he might have gone to Yale, or Columbia, or Princeton, or to any other great university, or even to smaller colleges. It would not take long to correct the abuses of which the people complain but for the fact that back of every abuse are the hired brains of scholars who turn against society and use for society's harm the very strength that society has bestowed upon them.

Let me give you an illustration in point, and so recent that one will be sufficient: A few months ago the Supreme Court at Washington handed down a decision overturning every argument made against the Eighteenth Amendment and the enforcement law. Who represented the liquor traffic in that august tribunal? Not brewery workers, employees in distilleries, or bartenders; these could not speak for the liquor traffic in the Supreme Court. No! Lawyers must be employed, and they were easily found—big lawyers, scholars, who attempted to overthrow the bulwark that society has erected for the protection of the homes of the country.

Every reform has to be fought through the legislatures and the courts until it is finally settled by the highest court in our land, and there, vanquished wrong expires in the arms of learned lawyers who sell their souls to do evil—who attempt to rend society with the very power that our institutions of learning have conferred upon them. All of our reforms would be led by scholars, if all scholars appreciated as they should the gift of education. There are, of course, a multitude of noble illustrations of scholars consecrating their learning to the service of the people, but many scholars are indifferent to the injustice done to the masses and some actually obstruct needed reforms—and they do it for pay.

My second illustration is even more important, for it deals with the heart. I am interested in education; if I had my way every child in all the world would be educated. God forbid that I should draw a line through society and say that the children on one side shall be educated and the children on the other side condemned to the night of ignorance. I shall assume no such responsibility. I am anxious that my children and grandchildren shall be educated, and I do not desire for a child or grandchild of mine anything that I would not like to see every other child enjoy. Children come into the world without their own volition—they are here as a part of the Almighty's plan—and there is not a child born on God's footstool that has not as much right to all that life can give as your child or my child. Education increases one's capacity for service and thus enlarges the reward that one can rightfully draw from society; therefore, every one is entitled to the advantages of education.

There is no reason why every human being should not have both a good heart and a trained mind; but, if I were compelled to choose between the two, I would rather that one should have a good heart than a trained mind. A good heart can make a dull brain useful to society, but a bad heart cannot make a good use of any brain, however trained or brilliant.

When we deal with the heart we must deal with religion, for religion controls the heart; and, when we consider religion we find that the religious environment that surrounds our young people is as favourable as their intellectual environment. As in the case of education, lack of appreciation may be due in part to lack of opportunity to make comparison. If we visit Asia, where the philosophy of Confucius controls, or where they worship Buddha, or follow Mahomet, or observe the forms of the Hindu religion, we find that except where they have borrowed from Christian nations, they have made no progress in fifteen hundred years. Here, all have the advantage of Christian ideals, and yet, according to statistics, something more than half the adult males of the United States are not connected with any religious organization. Some scoff at religion, and a few are outspoken enemies of the Church. Can they be blind to the benefits conferred by our churches? Security of life and property is not entirely due to criminal laws, to a sheriff in each county, and to an occasional policeman. The conscience comes first; the law comes afterward.

Law is but the crystallization of conscience; moral sentiment must be created before it can express itself in the form of a statute. Every preacher and priest, therefore, whether his congregation be large or small, who quickens the conscience of those who hear him helps the community. Every church of every denomination, whether important or unimportant, that helps to raise the moral standards of the land benefits all who live under the flag, whether they acknowledge their obligations or not.

But lack of appreciation on the part of those outside the Church would not disturb us so much if all the church members lived up to their obligations. How much is it worth to one to be born again? Of what value is it to have had the heart touched by the Saviour and so changed that it loves the things it used to hate and hates the things it formerly loved? Of what value is it to have one's life so transformed that, instead of resembling a stagnant pool, it becomes like a living spring, giving forth constantly that which refreshes and invigorates? What is it worth to the Christian, and what is it worth to those about him, to have his life brought by Christ into such vital living contact with the Heavenly Father, that that life becomes the means through which the goodness of God pours out to the world?

But, I go a step farther and ask whether the Church as an organization—not any one denomination, but the Church universal—appreciates its great opportunities, its tremendous responsibility, and the infinite power behind it. If the Church is what we believe it to be it must be prepared to grapple with every problem, individual and social, whether it affects only a community or involves a state, a nation, or a world. There must be some intelligence large enough to direct the world or the world will run amuck. We believe that God is the only intelligence capable of governing the world, and God must act through the Church or outside of it. If the Church is not big enough to act as the mouthpiece of the Almighty—not in the sense that the Church ought to exercise governmental authority, but its members, seeking light from the Heavenly Father through prayer, should be able to act wisely as citizens—if, I repeat, the Church is not big enough to deal with the problems that confront the world, then the Church must give way to some more competent organization. Christians have no other alternative; they must believe that the teachings of Christ can be successfully applied to every problem that the individual has to meet and to every problem with which governments have to deal. I have in another lecture in this series called attention to Christ's all-inclusive claim set forth in the closing verses of the last chapter of Matthew, but I must repeat it here because it is the basis of what I desire to say on this branch of the subject. Christ declared that all power had been given into His hands; He sent His followers out to make disciples of all nations; and He promised to be with them always, even unto the end of the world. If the Church takes Christ at His word and claims to be His representative on earth it cannot shirk its duty.

If Christians are as grateful to God, to Christ, and to the Bible as they should be, they will give attention to every problem that affects the individual, the community, and the larger units of society and government. They will consider it their duty to carry their religion into business and politics and to apply the teachings of Christ to every subject that affects human welfare. In another lecture I call attention to the Church's duty to reconcile capital and labour, and to teach God's law of rewards.

The third gift to which I would call your attention is the form of government under which we live. Ours is a government in which the people rule from the lowest unit to the highest office in the nation. Nearly all of our officials are elected by popular vote, and those appointed are appointed by officers who are elected. The tendency is everywhere more and more toward popular government. Some people are afraid of Democracy but a larger number of people believe that "more democracy is the cure for such evils as have been developed under popular government." The Christian is a citizen of the republic as well as a member of the church and must practice his religion. I have not time to speak of our government in detail; it is rather my purpose at this time to call attention to the gift of popular government as we find it in the nation.

Let us begin, then, with a presidential election. I shall not yield to the strong temptation to describe a presidential election; suffice to say that our campaigns begin with the election of delegates to a National Convention (I hope they will some day begin with the nomination of presidential candidates at primaries held by all the parties, in all the states, on the same day). The campaigns last long enough to make the candidates so weary that they gladly resign themselves to any result if they can only live to election day.

The campaigns increase in intensity week after week and expire, or explode, in a blaze of glory the night before election, at which time the committees of the leading parties set forth the reasons that make each side certain of success. On election day a hush spreads over the land and the voters wend their way to the polling places, where each voter is permitted to register a sovereign's will. Usually by midnight the wires flash out the name of one who is to be added to the list of Presidents. We give him a few weeks to rest and get ready and then, on a certain day in March and at a certain hour, he goes to the White House door and knocks. The occupant opens the door, and with a wearied look upon his face, and yet a smile, says, "I was expecting you just at this moment." Then the man on the inside of the White House goes out and becomes a private citizen again, while the man on the outside goes in, takes the oath of office and is clothed with authority such as no other human being, but a President, ever exercised.

He writes an order and ships go out to sea with their big-mouthed guns; he writes another order and the ships return. At his command armies assemble and march and fight, and men die; at his word armies dissolve and soldiers become citizens again. This goes on for just so many years and months and weeks and days—for just so many hours and minutes and seconds, and then there is another knock on the White House door and another man comes with a new commission from the people.

Is it not a great thing to live in a land like this where the people can, at the polls, select one of their number and lift him to this pinnacle of power? And is it not greater still that the people are able to reduce a President to the ranks as well as to lift him up? When they elevate him he is just common clay, but when they take him down from his high place they separate him from those instrumentalities of government which despots have employed for the enslavement of their people.

And why is it that we live under a government resting upon the consent of the governed, and in a land in which the people rule? Because throughout the centuries millions of the best and the bravest have given their lives that we might be free. Every right of which we boast is a blood-bought right, and bought by the blood of others, not our own. Would you not think that people who inherit such a government as this would be grateful for the priceless gift and live up to every obligation of citizenship? It would seem so, and yet those acquainted with politics know that the difficult task is to get the vote out. Even in a hotly contested presidential election we never get the full vote out. If ninety per cent of the vote is polled we are happy; if eighty-five per cent, is polled we are satisfied. If it is an intermediate election the vote may be less than eighty per cent., or even seventy-five. In a primary, which is often more important than an election, the vote sometimes falls below fifty, or even forty per cent.

And what excuses do men give? Often the most trivial. One man says that he had some work to do and could not spare the time—as if any work could be more important than voting in a Republic. Another was visiting his wife's relatives and a family dinner made it inconvenient for him to return in time to vote. A few years ago I met a man on the train who told me that he had not voted for ten years. When I asked him why, he explained that he had voted for a neighbour for a state office—he declared that the neighbour could not have been elected without his help—and yet when the election was over the successful candidate failed to invite him to a dinner given to celebrate the victory. "And," he added, "I just made up my mind that if I could be so deceived by a man who lived next door to me I did not have sense enough to vote, and I have not voted since."

We are all liable to make mistakes, but a mistake at one election is no justification for failure to vote at other elections. We must do the best we can; and we must not be discouraged if the men elected do not do all that we expect of them. The government is not perfect and never will be, no matter what party is in power. When the Democrats are in power I can prove by all the Republicans that the government is not perfect; when the Republicans are in power I can prove by the Democrats that the government is not perfect. Governments are administered by human beings; we must expect honest men to make mistakes and we must not be surprised if, occasionally, an official embezzles power and turns to his own advantage the authority entrusted to him to use for the public good. We should punish him and try to safeguard the people. The initiative and referendum are valuable because they enable the people to protect themselves from misrepresentation.

But even if the government could be made perfect to-day it would be imperfect to-morrow. Times change and new conditions arise that make new laws necessary. As the remedy cannot precede the disease and cannot be applied until the public becomes acquainted with the disease and has time to choose the remedy, there is always something that needs to be done. If Christians do not make it their business to understand their government's needs and to propose laws that are necessary, others will. Are any more worthy to be trusted than Christians?

Even constitutions must be changed in order that our government may be in the hands of the living rather than in the hands of the dead. Those who wrote our Constitution were very wise men and yet the wisest thing they did was to include a provision which enabled those who came after them to change anything that they wrote into the Constitution.

Jefferson thought a constitution should be brought up to date by every generation. Nineteen changes have been made in our Constitution by amendment since the Constitution was adopted and four of these have been adopted within the last ten years. I venture to call attention to the later ones for two purposes; first, to show how long it takes to amend the Constitution and why; second, to remind you that these four great amendments have been adopted by joint action by the two great parties.

It required twenty-one years to secure the amendment providing for popular election of United States Senators after the amendment was first endorsed by the House of Representatives at Washington. For one hundred and three years after the adoption of the Federal Constitution the people tolerated the election of Senators by legislatures before there was a protest that rose to the dignity of a Congressional resolution. A Republican President, Andrew Johnson, recommended the change in a message to Congress. Some ten years later, General Weaver, a Populist Representative in Congress from Iowa, introduced a resolution proposing an amendment providing for the popular election of Senators, but no action was taken at that time. In 1902 a Democratic House of Representatives at Washington passed a resolution, by the necessary two-thirds vote, submitting the proposed amendment. Hon. Harry St. George Tucker, of Virginia, was the chairman of the committee when this resolution passed the House. A similar resolution passed the House on five separate occasions afterward (twice when the House was Democratic and three times when it was Republican) before it could pass the Senate. The amendment was finally submitted by joint action of a Democratic House and a Republican Senate and was ratified in a short time, Democratic and Republican states vying with each other in furnishing the necessary number. In 1913 it became my privilege, as Secretary of State, to sign the last document necessary to make this amendment a part of the Constitution. I have dwelt upon this contest at some length in order to call attention to the time it took to secure the change and to the fact that the two parties share the honour of making the change.

It took seventeen years to secure the amendment to the Constitution authorizing an income tax. The Income Tax Law, enacted in 1894, was declared unconstitutional by the United States Supreme Court, by a majority of one, in 1895. In 1896 the fight for a constitutional amendment was inaugurated and the amendment was ratified and became a part of the Constitution early in 1913. This amendment, like the amendment providing for popular election of United States Senators, required many years, and for the same reason, viz., that the people were not alert as they should have been, not as vigilant as they should be. In the case of the Income Tax Amendment also, as in the case of the other, the two parties contributed to the change in the Constitution and share the glory together. The first amendment brought the United States Senate nearer the people and opened the way for other reforms; the second made it possible to apportion more equitably the burdens of the government.

The Income Tax Amendment was adopted just in time to enable the government to collect the revenue needed for the recent war. During the seventeen years covered by the struggle for this amendment the government was impotent to tax wealth; it could draft the man but not the pocketbook. What would have been the feeling among the people if we had entered the late war under such a handicap? How would conscription have been received if it applied to father, husband and son and not to wealth also?

And then, too, the Income Tax Amendment came just in time to answer the last argument made in favour of the saloon. Those engaged in the liquor traffic, after being defeated on all other points, massed behind the proposition that the government needed the revenue from whiskey, beer, and saloons. As soon as the government was able to collect an income tax the friends of prohibition were able to look the liquor dealers in the face and say, "Never again will an American boy be auctioned off to a saloon for money to run the government; we now have other sources from which to draw."

The third of the amendments was also a long time in coming and was finally brought by joint action of Democrats and Republicans. It is not necessary to trace the growth of this reform. Suffice it to say that the Christian churches were the dominating force behind the prohibition movement and that the South played a very prominent part in driving out the saloon. More than two-thirds of the Senators and members from the Southern States voted for the submission of National Prohibition after nearly all the Southern States had adopted prohibition by individual act. The first four states to ratify were Southern Democratic States—Mississippi, Virginia, Kentucky, and South Carolina. It is only fair, however, to say that the West contested with the South the honour of leading in this fight, and that the Northern States finally did nearly as well as the Southern States in the matter of ratifying. And it is better that the victory should be a joint one, expressing the conscience of the nation regardless of party, than that it should be merely a party victory.

But the real credit for leadership belongs not to any party or to any section, but to those whose consciences were quickened by the teachings of the Bible. Total abstinence was naturally more prevalent among church members than among those outside of the church, and this, of course, was the foundation upon which prohibition rested. The arguments against the use of liquor are the basis of the arguments in favour of prohibition. Because liquor is harmful the saloon is intolerable.

I venture to set forth the fundamental propositions upon which the arguments for prohibition rested.

First: God never made a human being who, in a normal state, needed alcohol.

Second: God never made a human being strong enough to begin the use of alcohol and be sure that he would not become its victim.

Third: God never fixed a day in a human life after which it is safe to begin the use of intoxicating liquors.

These three propositions can be stated without limitation or mental reservation. They apply to all who now live and to all who ever lived; and will apply to all who may live hereafter. To these may be added three propositions which apply especially to Christians.

First: The Christian is a Christian because he has given himself in pledge of service to God and to Christ. What moral right has he to take into his body that which he knows will lessen his capacity for service and may destroy even his desire to serve?

Second: What moral right has a Christian to spend for intoxicating liquor money needed for the many noble and needy causes that appeal to a Christian's heart? The Christian, repeating the language taught him by the Master, prays to the Heavenly Father, "Thy kingdom come;" what right has he to rise from his knees and spend for intoxicating liquor money that he can spare to hasten the coming of God's kingdom on earth?

Third: What right has a Christian to throw the influence of his example on the side of a habit that has brought millions to the grave? We shall have enough to answer for when we stand before the judgment bar of God without having a ruined soul arise and testify that it was a Christian's example that led him to his ruin. Paul declared that if meat made his brother to offend he would eat no meat. What Christian can afford to say less in regard to intoxicants? If the Christian drinks only a little it is a small sacrifice to make for the aid of his brother; if the Christian drinks enough to make stopping a real sacrifice he ought to stop for his own sake, on his family's account and out of respect for his church.

While the harmfulness of liquor was the foundation upon which the opposition to the saloon was built, it may be worth while to add that popular government, by putting responsibility upon the voters, compelled the Christian to vote against the saloon licenses. In all civilized countries the sale of liquor is now so restricted that it cannot be lawfully offered for sale without a license. As the license is necessary to the existence of the saloon—as necessary as the liquor sold over the bar—the Christian who voted for a license became as much a partner in the business as the man who dispensed it, and he had even less excuse. The manufacturer and the bartender could plead in extenuation that they made money out of the business and money has led multitudes into sin. For money many have been willing to steal; for money some have been willing to murder; for money a few have been willing to sell their country; for money one man was willing to betray the Saviour. The Christian who voted for licenses had not even the poor excuse of those who engaged in the business for mercenary reasons. As the consciences became awakened, therefore, Christians, in increasing numbers, refused to share responsibility for the saloon and what it did.

Science contributed largely to the final victory. People used to say that drinking did not hurt if one did not drink too much. But no one could define how much "too much" was. The invisible line between "just enough" and "too much" is like the line of the horizon—it recedes as you approach until it is lost in the darkness of the night.

Science proved that it is not immoderate drinking only, but any drinking that is harmful, and, therefore, that the real line is that between not drinking and drinking.

Science has also demonstrated, as I have shown in another lecture, that drinking decreases one's expectancy, according to insurance tables; a young man at twenty-one must deliberately decide to shorten his life by more than ten per cent. if he becomes an habitual drinker.

But, what is worse, science has shown that alcohol is a poison that runs in the blood, so that the drinking of the father or mother may curse a child unborn and close the door of hope upon it before its eyes have opened to the light of day.

Business aided us also, as large corporations increasingly discriminated against those who drank.

Patriotism furnished the last impulse; war threw a ghastly light upon the evils of intemperance and upon the sordid greed of those engaged in the liquor business.

The reform will not turn back. Enforcement will become more strict in this country as its benefits are more clearly shown and prohibition will spread until the saloon will be abolished throughout the world. Although now past sixty-one I expect to live to see the day when there will not be an open saloon under the flag of any civilized nation.

We are now able to prevent typhoid fever, the individual being made immune by a treatment administered before he has been exposed to the disease. Total abstinence resembles this preventive; no total abstainer is in danger of alcoholism.

But we also have a preventive for yellow fever, namely, the destroying of the breeding place of the mosquito which carries the germ of the disease. Prohibition resembles this preventive. The saloon was found to be the breeding place of alcoholism and prohibition strikes at the source of the danger. These two, total abstinence and prohibition, will eliminate the drink evil as typhoid and yellow fever have been eliminated.

The fourth amendment adopted in recent years extended equal suffrage to women. Like the three to which I have referred, it was a long time coming and came at last by joint action of the two great parties. A majority of both parties in both Senate and House voted for the submission of this amendment and it required both Democratic and Republican states to ratify it. The opposition which the amendment met in the South was not due to lack of confidence in women, for nowhere in the world is woman more highly estimated or more fully trusted. Such local opposition as there was was due to the race question. Now that woman can express herself at the polls, her influence will be felt as much in the South as in other sections; it will throughout the United States seal the doom of the liquor traffic. The women will stand guard at the grave of John Barleycorn and make sure that he will never know a resurrection morn.

Drawing their inspiration from the Bible, even to a greater extent than the men do, the women will hasten the triumph of every righteous cause. They will throw their influence on the side of every moral reform. The adoption of the single standard of morals will be made possible by woman's advent into politics. Her ballot will make it easier to lift man to her level in the matter of chastity and to distribute more equitably than man has done, the punishments imposed for acts of immorality.

Woman has come into power in politics at a time when she can aid in the promotion of world peace by compelling the establishment of machinery which will substitute reason for force in the settlement of international disputes. Her first great triumph at the polls may be the fulfilling of the prophecy, spoken more than two thousand years ago, that swords shall be beaten into ploughshares and that nations shall learn war no more. She will be repaid for all her patience and her waiting if now, by her ballot, she can make it unnecessary for another mother's son to be offered upon the altar of Mars. That this nation is in a better position than ever before to lead the world in every good cause is due to the gifts that have come with American citizenship, only three of which I have had time to mention.

Every citizen should be honest with himself, examine his own heart and answer to his own conscience. What estimate does he place upon the education which he has received? What value does he put upon the religion that controls his heart? How highly does he prize the form of government under which he lives? Let him put his own appraisement upon these three great gifts; these sums added together will represent his acknowledged indebtedness to society; then let him resolve to pay so much of this incalculable debt as is within his power.

We live in a goodly land. No king can shape our nation's destiny; not even a President can have the final word as to what our nation is to be. Each citizen, no matter how humble that citizen may be, can have a part. Let us do our part; joining together, let us solve the problems with which we have to deal, and, by so doing, bless our country and, through it, other lands. Let us join together and raise the light of our civilization so high that its rays, illumining every land, may lead the world to those better things for which the world is praying.



VIII

"HIS GOVERNMENT AND PEACE"

By way of introduction, allow me to say that I fully recognize the difference between a presentation of fundamental principles and an application of those principles to life. While an application of principles arouses greater interest it is more apt to bring out differences of opinion and to excite controversy. But the Christian is always open-minded because he desires to know the right and to do it. He "prove(s) all things and hold(s) fast that which is good." Therefore, he welcomes light on every subject, from every source. It is in this spirit that I speak to you and it is this spirit that I invoke. I speak from conviction, formed after prayerful investigation, and am as anxious to be informed as I am to inform.

Some twenty years ago I turned back to the sixth verse of the ninth chapter of Isaiah to refresh my memory on the titles bestowed on the Messiah whose coming the prophet foretold. After reading verse six, my eyes fell on verse seven and it impressed me as it had not on former readings. This was probably because I had recently been giving attention to governmental problems and had occasionally heard advanced a very gloomy philosophy, namely, that a government, being the work of man, must, like man, pass through certain changes that mark a human life—that is, be born, grow strong, and then, after a period of maturity, decline and die. It is a repulsive doctrine and my heart rebelled against it. It offends one's patriotism, too, to be compelled to admit that, in spite of all that can be done, our government must some day perish. In verse seven we read of a government that will not die:

"Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, ... to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even forever."

The fault in the philosophy to which I have referred lies in the fact that while government is each day in control of those then living, it really belongs to generations rather than to individuals. As one generation passes off the stage another comes on; therefore, there is no reason why this government should ever be weaker or worse than it is now unless our people decline in virtue, intelligence and patriotism. It should grow better as the people improve.

In the verse quoted we find that the enduring government—the government of Christ—is to rest on justice. And so, our government must rest on justice if it is to endure. But what is justice? We are familiar with this word but how shall it be interpreted in governmental terms? Christ furnished the solution—He presented a scheme of Universal Brotherhood in which justice will be possible.

To show how important this doctrine of brotherhood is, let us consider for a moment the alternative relationship. There are but two attitudes that one can assume in regard to his fellowmen—the attitude of brother and the attitude of the brute; there is no middle ground.

This is the choice that each human being must make—a choice as distinct and fundamental as the choice between God and Baal; and it is a choice not unlike that.

One may be a very weak brother or a very feeble brute, but each person is, consciously or unconsciously, controlled by the sympathetic spirit of brotherhood or he hunts for spoil with the savage hunger of a beast of prey.

I am not making a new classification; I am merely calling attention to a classification that has come down from the beginning of history. Many years ago I heard a man from New Zealand tell how a cannibal in that country once supported his claim to a piece of land on the ground that the title passed to him when he ate the former owner. I accepted this story as a bit of humour, but it accurately describes an historic form of title. Even among the highly civilized nations governments convey to their subjects or citizens land secured by conquest, the lands being taken from the conquered by the conquerors. A tramp, so the story goes, being ordered out of a nobleman's yard, questioned the owner's title. The latter explained that the title to the land had come down to him in unbroken line from father to son through a period of 700 years, beginning with an ancestor who fought for it. "Let's fight for it again," suggested the tramp.

To show how ancient is the distinction that I am trying to make clear, I remind you that both the Psalmist and Solomon used the word "brutish" in describing certain kinds of men, and one of the minor prophets calls down wrath upon those who build a city with blood. Christ, it will be remembered, denounced the hypocrites who devoured widows' houses and for a pretense made long prayers.

The devouring did not cease with that generation; it is to-day a menace to stable government and to civilization itself. In times of peace we have the profiteer who is guilty of practices which violate all rules of morality even when they do not actually violate statute law. In this "Land of the free and home of the brave," we have been compelled to enact laws to restrain brutishness—not only laws to prevent assault, murder, arson, the white slave traffic, etc., but also laws to restrain men engaged in legitimate business. Pure food laws prevent the adulteration of that which the people eat—men were willing to destroy health and even life in order to add to their profits. Child labour laws have become necessary to keep employers from dwarfing the bodies, minds and souls of the young in their haste to make larger dividends.

Usury laws are necessary to protect the borrowers from the lenders, and, from occasional violations, we can judge what the condition would be if the very respectable business of banking was not strictly regulated by law. We have an anti-trust law intended to prevent the devouring of small industries by large ones—law made necessary by injustice nation-wide in extent.

Congress and the legislatures of the several states are constantly compelled to legislate against so-called "business" enterprises that are being conducted on a brute basis—some are combinations in restraint of trade, others are merely gambling transactions. For a generation the agriculturists, who constitute about one-third of our entire population, have been at the mercy of a comparatively small group of market gamblers who, by betting, force prices up or down for their own pecuniary gain. An anti-option law has been recently enacted after an agitation of nearly thirty years, and also a law regulating the packers. These are only a few illustrations; they could be multiplied without limit. They show how unbrotherly society sometimes is even in this highly favoured nation.

How can Christ's teachings relieve the situation? Easily. He dealt with fundamentals, and gave special attention to the causes of evil. He taught, first, that man should love God—the basis of all religion; second, He taught that man should commune with the Heavenly Father through prayer—the basis of all worship; third, He proclaimed the existence of a future life in which the righteous shall be rewarded and the wicked punished. These three doctrines contribute powerfully to morality, the basis of stable government. In another address I have called attention to the destructive influence exerted by the doctrine of evolution, as applied to man, and have pointed out how Darwinism weakens faith in God, makes a mockery of prayer, undermines belief in immortality, reduces Christ to the stature of a man, lessens the sense of brotherhood and encourages brutishness. It is unnecessary, therefore, to dwell upon this subject in this address.

Christ warned against the sins into which man is sure to fall when the heart is not wholly devoted to the service of God. He shows how evil in the heart will manifest itself in the life. Greed is at the bottom of most of the wrong-doing with which government has to deal. The Bible says "the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil."

It surely is responsible for unspeakable ills. The case is so plain that human reason would seem sufficient to furnish a cure. It ought not to be difficult to agree upon the principles that should govern legitimate accumulations.

There are two propositions that cover the whole ground; one is economic and the other rests upon religion. Both are based upon the laws of God, but one can be enforced by the government, while the other is binding on the conscience alone.

The divine law of rewards is self-evident. When God gave us the earth with its fertile soil, the sunshine with its warmth and the rains with their moisture, His voice proclaimed as clearly as if it had issued from the skies: Go work, and in proportion to your industry and ability so shall be your reward. This is God's law and it will prevail except where force suspends it or cunning evades it. It is the duty of the Church to teach, and the duty of Christians to respect, God's law of rewards.

It is the duty of the government to give free course and full sway to the divine law of rewards; first, by abstaining from interference with that law; and second, by preventing interference by individuals. No defense need be made of the righteousness of this law; just in so far as the government can make it possible for each individual to draw from society according to his contribution to the welfare of society it will encourage the maximum of effort on the part of the individual and, therefore, on the part of society as a whole. If some receive more than their share, others will necessarily receive less than their share—the very essence of injustice; the former will become indolent because work is not required of them and the latter will grow desperate because their toil is not fairly rewarded. Injustice is the greatest enemy of government.

But there is a sphere which the government cannot and should not invade. The government's work ends when it has insured just rewards by preventing unjust profits, but even a just government cannot bring about an equal distribution of happiness. It can and should guarantee equality before the law—that is, equality of opportunity and equal treatment at the hand of the government—but that will not insure equal prosperity to each or bestow on all an equal amount of enjoyment. Ability will have to be taken into consideration, and likewise, industry, integrity and many other factors.

While the government can encourage all the virtues it cannot compel them; there is a zone between that Which can be legally required and that which is morally desirable. When the government has done all in its power—all that it can do and all that it should do—there will be inequalities in success, based upon inequalities in merit. There must, therefore, be a spiritual law to govern when the statute law, based upon economic principles, has reached its limit.

Christ suggests such a law—the law of stewardship. We hold what we have—no matter how justly acquired—in trust. That which is ours by economic right and by the government's permission, is not ours to waste. We have no more moral right to squander it foolishly than we have to throw away our bodily strength, our mental energy or our moral worth.

When we analyze ourselves we find that there is little of real value in us for which we can claim sole credit. We inherit much from ancestry and draw much from environment long before we are able to choose our surroundings. The ideals which come to us from others will account for nearly all that we do not derive from the past and from those among whom we spend our youth. If one has accepted Christ, received forgiveness of sin and been brought into living contact with the Heavenly Father, he becomes indebted beyond the power of language to describe. Our indebtedness if discharged at all must be paid not, as a rule, to those who have contributed most largely to making us what we are, but by general service to those now living and to those who succeed us. Our debtors are as impersonal as our creditors.

Nothing could contribute more to the security of the government than an approximation to the divine standard of rewards, and if all then recognized and obeyed the law of stewardship nearly all the complaint that would still exist would be silenced by the volunteer service rendered by the fortunate to the unfortunate.

"The mob"—the terror of orderly government—has been described by Victor Hugo as "the human race in misery." When the brotherhood of Christ is established a just standard of rewards will abolish law-made misery and private benevolence will relieve such suffering as may come upon the members of society without their fault and in spite of all the government can do.

But plain as are the dangers arising from love of money, and reasonable as seem the means of meeting them, the mad race for riches goes on all over the world. The mind is powerless to call a halt; intellectual processes fail—man needs a voice that can speak with authority—a voice that must be obeyed. He needs even more—he needs to be born again. His heart must be cleansed and his thoughts turned to higher things. It is to such that Christ appeals when He asks: "What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" Let man cease to be brutish and become brotherly and he will need few restraining statutes.

If it is brutish to turn so-called legitimate business into grand larceny, what shall be said of those forms of money-making that deprave both parties to the transaction? The liquor traffic furnished the best illustration of the power of the dollar to blind the eyes of greedy men to the crime and misery produced by drink. The beneficiaries of this wicked business formerly included high church officials—and does yet in some countries—who swelled their incomes with the dividends collected from vice; they included also highly respected brewers and distillers as well as saloon-keepers of all degrees. The fact that the liquor traffic manufactured criminals, ruined men and women, produced poverty, disrupted families, lowered the standard of education, lessened attendance upon worship and even afflicted little children before their birth, was not sufficient to deter people from engaging in it—even some calling themselves Christians. The handling of intoxicating drinks continued openly until these centers of pollution were closed by an emphatic expression of the nation's conscience.

Now, the fight is against the bootlegger and the smuggler. The man who peddles liquor, like the man who sells habit-forming drugs, is an outlaw and his trade is branded as an enemy of society. The sanction given to prohibition by the law brings to its support all who respect orderly government and reduces the enemies of prohibition to those whose fondness for drink, or for the profits obtainable from its illicit sale, is sufficient to overcome conscientious scruples and a sense of civic duty. Those who oppose prohibition now are shameless enough to become voluntary companions of the lawless members of society, but this number will constantly decrease as the virtue of the country asserts itself at the polls in the election of officials who are in sympathy with the enforcement of the law.

The unrest which pervades the industrial world to-day also threatens the stability of government. The members of the Capitalistic group and the members of the Labour group are becoming more and more class-conscious; they are solidifying as if they looked forward with a vague dread to what they regard as an inevitable class conflict. The same plan, Universal Brotherhood, can reconcile all class differences. Is there any other plan? Christ died for all—the employer as well as the employee; He is the friend of those who pay wages as well as of those who work for wages; the children of one class are as dear to Him as the children of the other. His creed brings man into harmony with God and then teaches him to love his neighbour as himself. To put human rights before property rights—the man before the dollar, is simply to put the teachings of the Saviour into modern language and apply them to present-day conditions.

The whole code of morals of the Nazarene is a protest against the attitude of antagonism between capital and labour. He pleads for sympathy and fellowship. Every worker should give to society the maximum of his productive power—but he cannot do this unless he is a willing worker. Every employer should give to society the maximum of his organizing and directing ability, but he cannot do it unless he is a satisfied employer. What plan but the plan of Christ can fill the world with willing workers and satisfied employers? Capitalism, supported by force, cannot save civilization; neither can government by any class assure the justice that makes for permanence in government. Only brotherly love can make employers willing to pay fair compensation for work done and employees anxious to give fair work for their wages.

One of the first fruits of the spirit of brotherhood will be investigation before strike or lockout, just as our nation has provided for investigation before war. If these bloody conflicts cannot be entirely abolished to-day the civilized nations should at least know why they are to shoot before they begin shooting. The world, too, should know. War is not a private affair; it disturbs the commerce of the world, obstructs the ocean's highways and kills innocent bystanders. Neutral nations suffer as well as those at war. If peacefully inclined nations cannot avoid loss and suffering after war is begun, they certainly have a right to demand information as to the nature and merits of the dispute before any nation begins to "shoot up" civilization.

The strike and the lockout are to our industrial life what war is between nations, and the general public stands in much the same position as neutral nations. The number of those actually injured by a suspension of industry is often many times as great as the total number of employers and employees in that industry combined.

If, for instance, ninety-five per cent, of the people are asked to freeze while the mine owners and the mine workers (numbering possibly five per cent.) fight out their differences, have they not a right to demand information as to the merits of the dispute before the shivering begins? If the home builders are asked to suspend construction while the steel manufacturers and steel workers (but a small fraction of the population) go to war over the terms of employment, have they not a right to inquire why before they begin to move into tents? And so with disputes between railroads and their employees.

Compulsory arbitration of all disputes between labour and capital is as improbable as compulsory arbitration of all disputes between nations, but the compulsory investigation of all disputes (before lockout or strike) will come as soon as the Golden Rule—an expression of brotherhood—is adopted in industry. When each man loves his neighbour as himself all rights will be safeguarded—the rights of employees, the rights of employers and the rights of the public—that important third party that furnishes the profits for the employer and the wages for the employee.

Ambition has been a disturbing factor in government. The ambitions of monarchs have overthrown governments and enslaved races. In republics, the ambitions of aspirants for office have caused revolutions and corrupted politics. No form of government is immune to the evils that flow from ambition, or proof against those who plot for their own political advancement. For this evil, too, Christ has a remedy. He changes the point of view. It seems a simple thing, but behold the transformation! "Let him who would be chiefest among you be servant of all." He makes service the measure of greatness. This is one of the most important of the many great doctrines taught by the Saviour. It puts the accent on giving instead of getting; it measures a life by the outflow rather than by the income. Men had been in the habit of estimating their greatness by the amount of service they could coerce or buy; Christ taught them to measure their greatness by service rendered to others. A wonderful transformation will take place in this old world when all are animated by a desire to contribute to the public good rather than by an ambition to absorb as much as possible from society.

Brotherhood is easily established among those who "in honour prefer one another"—who are willing to hold office when they are needed, but as willing to serve under others as to command. It is impossible to overestimate the contribution that Christ has made to enduring government in suppressing unworthy ambition and in implanting high and ennobling ideals.

War may be mentioned as the fourth foe of enduring government. It is the resultant of many forces. Love of money is probably more responsible for modern wars than any other one cause; commercial rivalries lead nations into injustice and unfair dealing.

Wars are sometimes waged to extend trade—the blood of many being shed to enrich a few. The supplying of battleships and munitions is so profitable a business that wars are encouraged by some for the money they bring to certain classes. Prejudices are aroused, jealousies are stirred up and hatreds are fanned into flame. Class conflicts cause wars and selfish ambitions have often embroiled nations; in fact, war is like a boil, it indicates that there is poison in the blood. Christ is the great physician whose teachings purify the blood of the body politic and restore health.

In dealing with the subject of war we cannot ignore another great foundation principle of Christianity, namely, forgiveness. The war through which the world has recently passed is not only without a parallel in the blood and treasure it has cost, but it was a typical war in that nearly every important war-producing cause contributed to the fierceness of the conflict. Personal ambition, trade rivalries, the greed of munition-makers, race hatreds and revenge—all played a part in the awful tragedy. Thirty millions of human lives were sacrificed; three hundred billion dollars' worth of property was destroyed; more than two hundred billion dollars of indebtedness was added to the burden that the world was already carrying. The paper currency of the nations was swollen from seven billions to fifty-six and the gold reserve dwindled from seventy per cent. to twelve.

And, oh, the pity! nearly every great nation engaged in the war was a Christian nation and every important branch of the Church was involved! And this occurred nineteen hundred years after the birth of the Saviour, at whose coming the angels sang, "on earth, peace, good-will to men."

The world is weary of war. If blood is necessary for the remission of sins, enough has been spilled to atone for the wrong done by all who live upon the earth; if sorrow is necessary to repentance and reform, enough tears have been shed to wash away all the crimes of the past. This last plague would seem to have been sufficient to release the world from bondage to force—if so, mankind is ready to turn over a new leaf and set about the task of finding a way to prevent war.

As Christ can remove the pecuniary cause of war by purging the heart of that love of money which leads men into evil doings, the class-conflict cause by stimulating brotherly love, and the ambition cause, by setting up a new measure of greatness; so He can subdue hatred and silence the cry for revenge.

"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord," should be a restraint, but Christ goes farther and commands us to love our enemies. That was the complete cure for which the world was not ready when God made Moses His spokesman. "Thou shalt not," came first; "Thou shalt," came later. Christ's creed compels positive helpfulness and love is the basis of that creed.

Love makes money-grabbing seem contemptible; love makes class prejudice impossible; love makes selfish ambition a thing to be despised; love converts enemies into friends.

It may encourage us to expect Christ's teachings to bring world peace if we consider for a moment what has already been accomplished in the establishing of peace between individuals. Take, for instance, the doctrine of forgiveness as applied to indebtedness. In Christ's time debtors were not only imprisoned but members of the family could be sold into bondage to satisfy a pecuniary obligation. In Matthew (chap. 18) we have a picture of the cruelty which the creditor was permitted to practice:

Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents [ten million dollars]. But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt. But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellow-servants which owed him an hundred pence [seventeen dollars]; and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest. And his fellow-servant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. So when his fellow-servants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on thee? And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him.

If Christ were to reappear to-day he would find imprisonment for debt abolished throughout nearly all, if not the entire, civilized world. The law stays the hand of the creditor, or rather withholds from him the instruments of torture which he formerly employed. Here we have the doctrine of forgiveness applied in a very practical form. It is based on mercy, and yet in a larger sense it rests on justice and promotes the welfare of society.

But compassion has gone further; we have the exemption law which secures to the debtor the food necessary for his family and the tools by which he makes his living. Christ's doctrine has been applied further still; we have the bankruptcy law which gives a new lease of life to an insolvent debtor if his failure is without criminal fault on his part. By turning over to his creditors all the property he has above exemptions he can go forth from court free from all legal obligations and begin business unembarrassed. Some who take advantage of these provisions of the law may be indifferent to the Teacher whose loving spirit has thus conquered the hard heart of the world, but the triumph marks a step in human advance and suggests possible changes in other directions as the principle is increasingly applied to daily life.

International law still permits greater cruelty in war than accompanied imprisonment for debt. National obligations are enforced by killing the innocent as well as the guilty. Ports are blockaded, cities are besieged and even bombed, and non-combatants are starved and drowned.

As imprisonment for debt has disappeared and as duelling is giving way to the suit at law, so war will be succeeded by courts of arbitration and tribunals for investigation. All real progress toward peace is in line with the teachings of the Nazarene and this progress hastens the coming of governments that shall endure.

With the conclusion of the World War our nation confronts such an opportunity as never came to any other nation—such an opportunity as never came to our nation before. We were the only great nation that sought no selfish advantage and had no old scores to settle, no spirit of revenge to gratify. Our contributions were made for the world's benefit—to end war and make self-government respected everywhere. We entered the conflict at the time when we could render the maximum of service with a minimum of sacrifice. At the peace conference we asked nothing for ourselves—no territorial additions, no indemnities, no reimbursements—just world peace, universal and perpetual. That was to be our recompense.

It is not entirely the fault of other nations that they do not stand exactly in the same position that we do. In many respects their situations are different from ours. They have received from the past an inheritance of race and national hostility; they have their commercial ambitions; they have their military and naval groups with antiquated standards of honour, not to speak of those who, feeding on war contracts, feel that they have a vested interest in carnage. Besides these hindrances to peace they lack several advantages which we enjoy over any other nation of importance, viz., more complete information in regard to other people, a more general sympathy with other nations and a greater moral obligation to them. Our nation being made up of the best blood of the nations of Europe, we learn to know the people at home through the representatives who come here. Because of our intimate connection with the foreign elements of our country our sympathy goes out to all lands; and because we have received from other nations as no other nation ever did, we are in duty bound to give as no other nation has given.