Prince Of Peace,

By William Jennings Bryan



By John Paul

This famous lecture, The Prince of Peace, was delivered at numerous Chautauquas and Y.M.C.A. and other religious meetings in the United States, and at Tokio, Manila, Bombay, Cario, Jerusalem, Montreal, Toronto.


523 South First Street

Louisville, Kentucky


By John Paul

Mr. Bryan lived 65 years; from 1860 to 1925. On the occasion of his death, I wrote for a magazine the following tribute, "The Truth About William Jennings Bryan," which is thought to be a suitable preface to the most significant of all his literary productions, The Prince of Peace. For its preservation and distribution, this generation will be indebted to The Herald Press. The tribute is as follows:

William Jennings Bryan said that a principal feature in eloquence was to say the most fitting thing for the occasion. In his extensive career as one of America's most eloquent speakers, he endured many a long, superlative introduction. A most refreshing exception, which he once reported was by a modest gentleman with a distinctive Irish brogue. Said he: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I do not claim to be gifted as a public speaker. I now present Mr. O'Bryan; he does the speaking."

Placid of expression, serene of countenance, they have laid his body away, to await the first resurrection. His indomitable spirit, kissed away in an hour of daylight slumber, has gone to be with God. It seemed more fitting that he should make his transfer in broad daylight; and that there should be a kind of homespun frankness in his death. It was pathetic that he and his companion should have missed the trip that they planned to Palestine next spring; that in planning to visit old Jerusalem he should get a call to see New Jeru-



salem first. But it may not be unfortunate. He may be among those few worthies who got too big for their mundane appointments before the time of senility. I hope those who believe the Bible will not so far forget themselves as to assume that Bryan is done. The last chapter of the New Testament tells us that in the Christian's home in glory "His servants shall serve him." It is but true to say that William Jennings Bryan is promoted.

The testimony of Mr. Bryan's opponents and even of his enemies serves to confirm our estimate of his worth as a spiritual leader. While he has championed some unpopular views that may have deserved to be unpopular, it is also true that the majority of the great political measures for which he stood were only premature and have since been adopted. He has never espoused a moral or spiritual contention that time did not vindicate. While remaining a consistent patriot, an ex-service man, worthy to be buried with military honors, he was an apostle of peace, a pioneer of arbitration and international good will. National prohibition came much earlier than it would have come, had it not been for Mr. Bryan. When this writer visited the Japanese conventions during the world war a private letter of introduction to the Marquis Okuma from Mr. Bryan was worth more than an American passport. Indeed, I got by the guards, without a passport, where some others were scarcely able to enter with a passport. Mr. Bryan's influence during his Oriental travels was highly favorable to the cause of missions. Pagan leaders noted the fact that he turned down his wine cup and was free from the popular vices; better still,


that he manifested the spirit of Christ; and they have never got away from the impression he made. From the standpoint of spiritual leadership, he was not only America's greatest national man, but he was one of Christianity's greatest international men. (While in Japan he delivered his lecture on The Prince Of Peace.)

Much discussion still revolves around the last issue in which Mr. Bryan figured. In theology, he was a modified Calvinist, with a warm side for orthodox Methodist evangelism and the camp meeting emphasis of Scriptural holiness. His theory of the Bible and of related scientific subjects was such as we should expect from this background. If he erred at all, it was in the direction of literal orthodoxy; but his interpretation of the Scriptures was so full of common sense and so rich in its colloquialisms that his Sunday School lectures were syndicated in daily papers all over the nation. He took higher ground than the average conservative when meeting the evolutionist's encroachment upon Bible religion. In a personal letter which I received from him under date of May 5, 1925, he says:

"I am not willing to admit evolution below man in the absence of facts because evolutionists would take the admission and build upon it a probability. They would say that 'it being admitted that evolution accounts for species below man, it proves that evolution accounts for man, also.' I deny that there is any sufficient evidence of evolution anywhere, although it is the tracing of man to a brute origin against which I especially contend."

It had been and is my position that we do not need to meet evolution excepting where it actually


collides with Gospel truth and the conclusions of the Scriptures; that we can economize our ammunition by not giving battle upon too large a front, and at the same time minimize the possibility of error in our own premises, making a joke of the rest of the issue or else giving it silent treatment. Mr. Bryan held, on the other hand, that if we conceded anything in the evolutionary scheme they would use our own concession against us fallaciously, and make out of it a leverage to attack the Gospel. He believed we were abundantly able to give battle all along the line, and he was living up to this belief in the last of his great line of eloquent speeches. The universality of his position was certainly safe in one respect, namely, that no law of evolution as such has ever been identified.

It is probable that Mr. Bryan has won his fight; that his bold front, together with the peculiar and subtle influence of his death, has bent the sword points of his opposers. This remains to be seen. If I had been called upon to tell the so-called modern Christian scholarship how to make the largest strategic blunder that it was possible for them to make, I should have advised them to select one of the proudest and most cultured states in the south, to stage a technical fight that had destructive bearings upon orthodox Christianity, to send down a few eastern lawyers who could glitter more than they could shine, and to appoint as their first counsel a loud mouthed free thinker who had spent his life apologizing for crime and criminals and who had mastered the art of substituting bluff for real education. Did they not do that thing exactly?

Mr. Bryan has gone out from us. He has gone


out victorious. He has passed in his prime to that region where "the mists have rolled away"; where he can see the King in His beauty and know as he is known. He needs no successor. Sudden as was his going, unfinished as his task may seem to be, we may find that his work is done, and well done; that he was more of a master workman than we thought, but that God, removing his workman who finished the sector assigned, will raise up workmen for new sectors and carry on his work.

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I offer no apology for speaking upon a religious theme, for it is the most universal of all themes. If I addressed you upon the subject of law I might interest the lawyers; if I discussed the science of medicine, I might interest the physicians, in like manner merchants might be interested in a talk on commerce, and farmers in a discussion on agriculture; but none of these subjects appeals to all. Even the science of government, though broader than any profession or occupation, does not embrace the whole sum of life, and those who think upon it differ so among themselves that I could not speak upon the subject so as to please a part without offending others. While to me the science of government is intensely absorbing, I recognize that the most important things in life lie outside of the realm of government and that more depends upon what the individual does for himself than upon what the government does or can do for them. Men can be miserable under the best government and they can be happy under the worst government.

Government affects but a part of the life which we live here and does not touch at all the life beyond, while religion touches the infinite circle of existence as well as the small arc of that circle which we spend on earth. No greater theme, therefore, can engage our attention.

Man is a religious being; the heart instinctively seeks for a God. Whether he worships on the banks of the Ganges, prays with his face upturned 9


to the sun, kneels toward Mecca or, regarding all space as a temple, communes with the Heavenly Father according to the Christian creed, man is essentially devout.

There are honest doubters whose sincerity we recognize and respect, but occasionally I find young men who think it smart to be skeptical; they talk as if it were an evidence of larger intelligence to scoff at creeds and refuse to connect themselves with churches. They call themselves "liberals," as if a Christian were narrow minded. To these young men I desire to address myself.

Even some older people profess to regard religion as a superstition, pardonable in the ignorant, but unworthy of the educated--a mental state which one can and should outgrow. Those who hold this view look down with mild contempt upon such as give to religion a definite place in their thoughts and lives. They assume an intellectual superiority and often take little pains to conceal the assumption. Tolstoy administers to the "cultured crowd" (the words quoted are his) a severe rebuke when he declares that the religious sentiment rests not upon a superstitious fear of the invisible forces of nature, but upon man's consciousness of his finiteness amid an infinite universe and of his sinfulness; and this consciousness, the great philosopher adds, man can never outgrow. Tolstoy is right; man recognizes how limited are his own powers and how vast is the universe, and he leans upon the arm that is stronger than his. Man feels the weight of his sins and looks for One who is sinless.

Religion has been defined as the relation which man fixes between himself and his God, and moral-


ity as the outward manifestation of this relation. Every one, by the time he reaches maturity, has fixed some relation between himself and God, and no material change in this religion can take place without a revolution in the man, for this relation is the most potent influence that acts upon a human life.

Religion is the basis of morality in the individual and in the group of individuals. Materialists have attempted to build up a system of morality upon the basis of enlightened self-interest. They would have man figure out by mathematics that it pays him to abstain from wrong doing; they would even inject an element of selfishness into altruism, but the moral system elaborated

In by the materialists has several defects. First, its virtues are borrowed from moral systems based upon religion; second, as it rests upon argument rather than upon authority, it does not appeal to the young and by the time the young are able to follow their reasons they have already become set in their ways. Our laws do not permit a young man to dispose of real estate until he is twenty-one. Why this restrain? Because his reason is not mature; and yet a man's life is largely molded by the environment of his youth. Third, one never knows just how much of his decision is due to reason and how much is due to passion or to selfish interest. We recognize the bias of self-interest when we exclude from the jury every man, no matter how reasonable or upright he may be, who has a pecuniary interest in the result of the trial. And, fourth, one whose morality is based upon a nice calculation of benefits to be se. cured spends time figuring that he should spend


in action. Those who keep a book account of their good deeds seldom do enough good to justify keeping books.

Morality is the power of endurance in man; and a religion which teaches personal responsibility to God gives strength to morality. There is a powerful restraining influence in the belief that an all-seeing eye scrutinizes every thought and word and act of the individual.

There is a wide difference between the man who is trying to conform to a standard of morality about him and the man who is endeavoring to make his life approximate to a divine standard. The former attempts to live up to the standard if it is above him and down to it if it is below him--and if he is doing right only when others are looking he is sure to find a time when he thinks he is unobserved, and then he takes a vacation and falls. One needs the inner strength which comes with the conscious presence of a personal God. If those who are thus fortified sometimes yield to temptation, how helpless and hopeless must those be who rely upon their own strength alone!

There are difficulties to be encountered in religion, but there are difficulties to be encountered everywhere. I passed through a period of skepticism when I was in college and I have been glad ever since that I became a member of the church before I left home for college, for it helped me during those trying days. The college days cover the dangerous period in the young man's life; it is when he is just coming into possession of his powers-- when he feels stronger than he ever feels afterward and thinks he knows more than he ever does know.


It was at this period that I was confused by the different theories of creation. But I examined these theories and found that they all assumed something to begin with. The nebular hypothesis, for instance, assumes that matter and force existed--matter in particles infinitely fine and each particle separated from every other particle by space infinitely great. Beginning with this assumption, force working on matter--according to this hypothesis--creates a universe. Well, I have a right to assume, and I prefer to assume a Designer back of the design--a Creator back of creation; and no matter how long you draw out the process of creation, so long as God stands back of it, you cannot shake my faith in Jehovah. In Genesis it is written that, in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and I can stand on that proposition until I find some theory of creation that goes farther back than "the beginning."

I do not carry the doctrine of evolution as far as some do; I have not yet been able to convince myself that man is a lineal descendant of the lower animals. I do not mean to find fault with you if you want to accept it; all I mean to say is that while you may trace your ancestry back to the monkey if you find pleasure or pride in doing so, you shall not connect me with your family tree without more evidence than has yet been produced. It is true that man, in some physical qualities, resembles the beast, but man has a mind as well as a body and a soul as well as a mind. The mind is greater than the body and the soul is greater than the mind, and I object to having man's pedigree traced on one-third of him only--and that


the lowest third. Fairbairn lays down a sound proposition when he says that it is not sufficient to explain man as an animal; it is necessary to explain man in history--and the Darwinian theory does not do this. The ape, according to this theory, is older than man, and yet he is still an ape, while man is the author of the marvelous civilization which we see about us.

One does not escape from mystery, however, by accepting this theory, for it does not explain the origin of life. When the follower of Darwin has traced the germ of life back to the lowest form in which it appears--and to follow him one must exercise more faith than religion calls for--he finds that scientists differ. Some believe that the first germ of life came from another planet and others hold that it was the result of spontaneous generation.

If I were compelled to accept one of these theories I would prefer the first, for if we can chase the germ of life off this planet and get it out into space we can guess the rest of the way and no one can contradict us, but if we accept the doctrine of spontaneous generation we cannot explain why spontaneous generation ceased to act after the first germ was created.

Go back as far as you may, we cannot escape from the creative act, and it is just as easy for me to believe that God created man as he is as to believe that, millions of years ago, he created a germ of life and endowed it with power to develop into ,all that we see today. But I object to the Darwinian theory until more conclusive proof is produced, because I fear we shall lose the consciousness of God's presence in our daily life, if we must assume


that through all the ages no spiritual force has touched the life of man or shaped the destiny of nations. But there is another objection. The Darwinian theory represents man as reaching his present perfection by the operation of the law of hate--the merciless law by which the strong crowd out and kill off the weak. If this is the law of our development, then, if there is any logic that can bind the human mind, we shall turn backward toward the beast in proportion as we substitute the law of love. How can hatred be the law of development when nations have advanced in proportion as they have departed from that law and adopted the law of love?

But while I do not accept the Darwinian theory, I shall not quarrel with you about it; I only refer to it to remind you that it does not solve the mystery of life or explain human progress. I fear that some have accepted it in the hope of escaping from the miracle, but why should the miracle frighten us? It bothered me once, and I am inclined to think that it is one of the test questions with the Christian.

Christ cannot be separated from the miraculous; his birth, his ministrations and his resurrection, all involve the miraculous, and the change which his religion works in the human heart is a continuing miracle. Eliminate the miracles and Christ becomes merely a human being and his gospel is stripped of divine authority.

"The miracle raises two questions: "Can God perform a miracle?" and, "Would he want to?" The first is easy to answer. A God who can make a world can do anything he wants to do with ft. The power to perform miracles is necessarily im


plied in the power to create. But would God want to perform a miracle?--this is the question which has given most of the trouble. The more I have considered it the less inclined I am to answer in the negative. To say that God would not perform a miracle is to assume a more intimate knowledge of God's plans and purposes than I can claim to have. I will not deny that God does perform a miracle or may perform one merely because I do not know how or why he does it. The fact that we are constantly learning of the existence of new forces suggests the possibility that God may operate through forces yet unknown to us, and the mysteries with which we deal every day warn me that faith is as necessary as sight. Who would have credited a century ago the stories that are now told of the wonder-working electricity? For ages man had known the lightning, but only to fear it; now this invisible current is generated by a man-made machine, imprisoned in a man-made wire and made to do the bidding of man. We are even able to dispense with the wire and hurl words through space, and the X-ray has enabled us to look through substances which were supposed, until recently, to exclude all light. The miracle is not more mysterious than many of the things with which man now deals--it is simply different. The immaculate conception is not more mysterious than any other conception--it is simply unlike; nor is the resurrection of Christ more mysterious than the myriad resurrections which mark each annual seed-time.

It is sometimes said that God could not suspend one of his laws without stopping the universe, but do we not suspend or overcome the law


of gravitation every day? Every time we move a foot or lift a weight, we temporarily interfere with the operation of the most universal of natural laws, and yet the world is not disturbed.

Science has taught us so many things that we are tempted to conclude that we know everything, but there is really a great unknown which is still unexplored and that which we have learned ought to increase our reverence rather than our egotism. Science has disclosed some of the machinery of the universe, but science has not yet revealed to us the great secret--the secret of life. It is to be found in every blade of grass, in every insect, in every bird and in every animal, as well as in man. Six thousand years of recorded history and yet we know no more about the secret of life than they knew in the beginning. We live, we plan; we have our hopes, our fears; and yet in a moment a change may come over any one of us and this body will become a mass of lifeless clay. What is it that, having, we live and, having not, we are as the clod? We know not and yet the progress of the race and the civilization which we now behold are the work of men and women who have not solved the mystery of their own lives.

And our food, must we understand it before we eat it? If we refused to eat anything until we could understand the mystery of its growth, we would die of starvation. But mystery does not bother us in 'the dining room; it is only in the church that it is an obstacle.

I was eating a piece of watermelon some months ago and was struck with its beauty. I took some of the seed and dried them and weighed them, and found that it would require some five


thousand seed to weigh a pound. And then I applied mathematics to that forty-pound melon. One of these seeds, put into the ground, when warmed by the sun and moistened by the rain, goes to work; it gathers from somewhere two hundred thousand times its own weight and, forcing this raw material through a tiny stem, constructs a watermelon. It covers the outside with a coating of green; inside of the green it puts a layer of white, and within the white a core of red, and all through the red it scatters seeds, each one capable of continuing the work of reproduction. Where did that little seed get its tremendous power? Where did it find its coloring matter? How did it collect its flavoring extract? How did it build a watermelon? Until you can explain a watermelon, do not be too sure that you can set limits to the power of the Almighty or say just what he would do or how he would do it. I cannot explain the watermelon, but I eat it and enjoy it.

Everything that grows tells a like story of infinite power. Why should I deny that a divine hand fed a multitude with a few loaves and fishes when I see hundreds of millions fed every year by a hand which converts the seeds scattered over the field into an abundant harvest? We know that food can be multiplied in a few months' time; shall we deny the power of the Creator to eliminate the element of time, when we have gone so far in eliminating the element of space?

But there is something even more wonderful still--the mysterious change that takes place in the human heart when the man begins to hate the things he loved and to love the things he hated the marvelous transformation that takes place in


the man who, before the change, would have sacrificed the world for his own advancement, but who, after the change, would give his life for a principle and esteem it a privilege to make sacrifice for his convictions. What greater miracle than this, that converts a selfish, self-centered human being into a center from which good influences flow out in every direction? And yet this miracle has been wrought in the heart of each one of us--or may be wrought--and we have seen it wrought in the hearts of those about us. No, living in the midst of mystery and miracles, I shall not allow either to deprive me of the benefits of the Christian religion.

Some of those who question the miracle also question the theory of atonement; they assert that it does not accord with their idea of justice for one to die for others. Let each one bear his own sins and the punishments due for them, they say. The doctrine of vicarious suffering is not a new one; it is as old as the race. That one should suffer for others is one of the most familiar principles and we see the principle illustrated every day of our lives. Take the family, for instance; from the day the mother's first child is born, for twenty-five or thirty years they are scarcely out of her waking thoughts. She sacrifices for them, she surrenders herself to them. Is it because she expects them to pay her back? Fortunate for the parent and fortunate for the child if the latter has an opportunity to repay in part the debt it owes. But no child can compensate a parent for a parent's care. In the course of nature the debt is paid, not to the parent, but to the next generation, each generation suffering and sacrificing for the one following.


Nor is this confined to the family. Every step in advance has been made possible by those who have been willing to sacrifice for posterity. Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of conscience and free government have all been won for the world by those who were willing to make sacrifices for their fellows. So well established is this doctrine that we do not regard any one as great unless he recognizes how unimportant his life is in comparison with the problems with which he deals.

I find proof that man was made in the image of his Creator in the fact that, throughout the centuries, man has been willing to die that blessings denied to him might be enjoyed by his children, his children's children, and the world.

The seeming paradox: "He that saveth his life shall lose it and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it," has an application wider than that usually given to it; it is an epitome of history. Those who live only for themselves live little lives, but those who give themselves for the advancement of things greater than themselves find a larger life than the one surrendered. Wendell Phillips gave expression to the same idea when he said: "How prudently most men sink into nameless graves, while now and then a few forget themselves into immortality."

Instead of being an unnatural plan, the plan of salvation is in perfect harmony with human nature as we understand it. Sacrifice is the language of love, and Christ, in suffering for the world, adopted the only means of reaching the heart, and this can be demonstrated not only by theory, but by experience, for the story of his


life, his teachings, his sufferings and his death has been translated into every language and everywhere it has touched the heart.

But if I were going to present an argument in favor of the divinity of Christ, I would not begin with miracles or mystery or theory of atonement. I would begin as Carnegie Simpson begins in his book entitled, "The Fact of Christ." Commencing with the fact that Christ lived, he points out that one cannot contemplate this undisputed fact without feeling that in some way this fact is related to those now living. He says that one can read of Alexander, of Caesar or of Napoleon, and not feel that it is a matter of personal concern; but that when one reads that Christ lived and how he died he feels that somehow there is a chord that stretches from that life to his. As he studies the character of Christ he becomes conscious of certain virtues which stand out in bold relief--purity, humility, a forgiving spirit and an unfathomable love. The author is correct. Christ presents an example of purity in thought and life, and man, conscious of his own imperfections and grieved over his shortcomings, finds inspiration in One who was tempted in all points like as we are, and yet without sin. I am not sure but that we can find just here a way of determining whether one possesses the true spirit of a Christian. If he finds in the sinlessness of Christ an inspiration and a stimulus to greater effort and higher living, he is indeed a follower; if, on the other hand, he resents the reproof which the purity of Christ offers, he is likely to question the divinity of Christ in order to excuse himself for not being a follower.

Humility is a rare virtue. If one is rich he is


apt to be proud of his riches; if he has distinguished ancestry, he is apt to be proud of his lineage; if he is well educated, he is apt to be proud of his learning. Some one has suggested that if one becomes humble he soon becomes proud of his humility. Christ, however, possessed of all power, was the very personification of humility.

The most difficult of all the virtues to cultivate is the forgiving spirit. Revenge seems to be natural to the human heart; to want to get even with an enemy is a common sin. It has been popular to boast of vindictiveness; it was once inscribed on a monument to a hero that he had repaid both friends and enemies more than he had received. This was not the spirit of Christ. He taught forgiveness and in that incomparable prayer which he left as a model for our petitions he made our willingness to forgive the measure by which we may claim forgiveness. He not only taught forgiveness, but he exemplified his teachings in his life. When those who persecuted him brought him to the most disgraceful of all deaths, his spirit of forgiveness rose above his sufferings and he prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!"

But love is the foundation of Christ's creed. The world had known love before; parents had loved children and children, parents; husband had loved wife and wife, husband; and friend had loved friend; but Jesus gave a new definition of love. His love was as boundless as the sea; its limits were so far-flung that even an enemy could not travel beyond it. Other teachers sought to regulate the lives of their followers by rule and formula, but Christ's plan was first to purify the


heart and then to leave love to direct the footsteps.

What conclusion is to be drawn from the life, the teachings and the death of this historic figure? Reared in a carpenter's shop; with no knowledge of literature, save Bible literature; with no acquaintance with philosophers living or with the writings of sages dead, this young man gathered disciples about him, promulgated a higher code of morals than the world had ever known before, and proclaimed himself the Messiah. He taught and performed miracles for a few brief months and then was crucified; his disciples were scattered and many of them put to death; his Claims were disputed, his resurrection denied and his followers persecuted, and yet from this beginning his religion has spread until millions take his name with reverence upon their lips and thousands have been willing to die rather than surrender the faith which he put into their hearts. How shall we account for him? "What think ye of Christ?" It is easier to believe him divine than to explain in any other way what he said and did and was. And I have greater faith even than before since I have visited the Orient and witnessed the successful contest which Christianity is waging against the religions and philosophies of the East.

I was thinking a few years ago of the Christmas which was then approaching and of him in whose honor the day is celebrated. I recalled the message, Peace on earth, good will to men, and then my thoughts ran back to the prophecy uttered centuries before his birth, in which he was described as the Prince of Peace. To reinforce my memory I re-read the prophecy and found immediately following a verse which I had forgotten--a verse


which declares that of the increase of his peace and government there shall be no end, for, adds Isaiah, "He shall judge his people with Justice and with judgment." Thinking of the prophecy, I have selected this theme that I may present some of the reasons which lead me to believe that Christ has fully earned the title, The Prince of Peace, and that in the years to come it will be more and more applied to him, Faith in him brings peace to the heart and his teachings, when applied, will bring peace between man and man. And if he can bring peace to each heart, and if his creed will bring peace throughout the earth, who will deny his right to be called The Prince of Peace?

All the world is in search of peace; every heart that ever beat has sought for peace and many have been the methods employed to secure it. Some have thought to purchase it with riches and they have labored to secure wealth, hoping to find peace when they were able to go where they pleased and buy what they liked. Of those who have endeavored to purchase peace with money, the large majority have failed to secure the money. But what has been the experience of those who have been successful in accumulating money? They all tell the same story--viz., that they spent the first half of their lives trying to get money from others and the last half trying to keep others from getting their money, and that they found peace in neither half. Some have even reached the point where they find difficulty in getting people to accept their money; and I know of no better indication of the ethical awakening in this country than the increasing tendency to scrutinize the methods of money making. A long step in advance will have


been taken when religious, educational and charitable institutions refuse to, condone immoral methods in business and leave the possessor of ill-gotten gains to learn the loneliness of life when one prefers money to morals.

Some have sought peace in social distinction, but whether they have been within the charmed circle and fearful lest they might fallout, or outside and hopeful that they might get in, they have not found peace.

Some have thought--vain thought!--to find peace in political prominence; but whether office comes by birth, as in monarchies, or by election, as in republics, it does not bring peace. An office is conspicuous only when few can occupy it. Only when few in a generation can hope to enjoy an honor do we call it a great honor. I am glad that our Heavenly Father did not make the peace of the human heart depend upon the accumulation of wealth, or upon the securing of social or political distinction, for in either case but few could have enjoyed it, but when he made peace the reward of a conscience void of offense toward God and man, he put it within the reach of all. The poor can secure it as easily as the rich, the social outcast as freely as the leader of society, and the humblest citizen equally with those who wield political power.

To those who have grown gray in the faith I need not speak of the peace to be found in the belief in an overruling Providence. Christ taught that our lives are precious in the sight of God, and poets have taken up the theme and woven it into immortal verse. No uninspired writer has expressed the idea more beautifully than William


Cullen Bryant in the Ode to a Waterfowl. After following the wanderings of the bird of passage as it seeks first its northern and then its southern home, he concludes:

Thou art gone; the abyss of heaven

Hath swallowed up thy form, but on my heart

Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,

And shall not soon depart.

He who, from zone to zone,

Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,

In the long way that I must tread alone,

Will lead my steps aright.

Christ promoted peace by giving us assurance that a line of communication can be established between the Father above, and the child below. And who will measure the consolation that has been brought to troubled hearts by the hour of prayer?

And immortality! Who will estimate the peace which a belief in a future life has brought to the sorrowing? You may talk to the young about death ending all, for life is full and hope is strong, but preach not this doctrine to the mother who stands by the death-bed of her babe or to one who is within the shadow of a great affliction. When I was a young man I wrote to Colonel Ingersoll and asked him for his views on God and immortality. His secretary answered that the great infidel was not at home, but inclosed a copy of a speech which covered my question. I scanned it with eagerness and found that he had expressed himself about as follows: "I do not say that there is no God. I simply say I do not know. I do not say


that there is no life beyond the grave, I simply say I do not know." And from that day to this I have not been able to understand how any one could find pleasure in taking from any human heart a living faith and substituting therefor the cold and cheerless doctrine, "I do not know."

Christ gave us proof of immortality, and yet it would hardly seem necessary that one should rise from the dead to convince us that the grave is not the end. To every created thing God has given a tongue that proclaims a resurrection.

If the Father deigns to touch with divine power the cold and pulseless heart of the buried acorn and to make it burst forth from its prison walls will he leave neglected in the earth the soul of man, made in the image of his Creator? If he stoops to give to the rose bush, whose withered blossoms float upon the autumn breeze, the sweet assurance of another springtime, will he refuse the words of hope to the sons of men when the frosts of winter come? If matter, mute and inanimate, though changed by the forces of nature into a multitude of forms, can never die, will the spirit of man suffer annihilation when it has paid a brief visit like a royal guest to this tenement of clay? No, I am as sure that there is another life as I am that I love today!

In Cairo I secured a few grains of wheat that had slumbered for more than three thousand years in an Egyptian tomb. As I looked at them this thought came into my mind: If one of those grains had been planted on the banks of the Nile the year after it grew, and all its lineal descendants planted and replanted from that time until now, its progeny would today be sufficiently numerous


to feed the teeming millions of the world. There is in the grain of wheat an invisible something which has power to discard the body that we see, and from earth and air fashion a new body so much like the old one that we cannot tell the one from the other. If this invisible germ of life in the grain of wheat can thus pass unimpaired through three thousand resurrections, I shall not doubt that my soul has power to clothe itself with a body suited to its new existence when this earthly frame has crumbled into dust.

A belief in immortality not only consoles the individual, but it exerts a powerful influence in bringing peace between individuals. If one really thinks that man dies as the brute dies, he may yield to the temptation to do injustice to his neighbor when the circumstances are such as to promise security from detection. But if one really expects to meet again and live eternally with those whom he knows today, he is restrained from evil deeds by the fear of endless remorse. We do not know what rewards are in store for us or what punishment may be reserved, but if there were no other punishment it would be enough for one who deliberately and consciously wrongs another to have to live forever in the company of the person wronged and have his littleness and selfishness laid bare. I repeat, a belief in immortality must exert a powerful influence in establishing justice between men and thus laying the foundation for peace.

Again. Christ deserves to be called The Prince of Peace because he has given us a measure of greatness which promotes peace. when his disciples disputed among themselves as to which


should be greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven, he rebuked them and said: "Let him who would be chiefest among you be the servant of all." Service is the measure of greatness; it always has been true; it is true today, and it always will be true, that he is greatest who does the most of good. And yet, what a revolution it will work in this old world when this standard becomes the standard of life. Nearly all of our controversies and combats arise from the fact that we are trying to get something from each other--there will be peace when our aim is to do something for each other.

If I were to attempt to apply this thought to various questions which are at issue, I might be accused of entering the domain of partisan politics, but I may safely apply it to two great problems. First, let us consider the question of capital and labor. This is not a transient issue or a local one. It engages the attention of the people of all countries and has appeared in every age. The immediate need in this country is arbitration, for neither side to the controversy can be trusted to deal with absolute justice, if allowed undisputed control; but arbitration, like a court, is a last resort. It would be better if the relations between employer and employee were such as to make arbitration unnecessary. Just in proportion as men recognize their kinship to each other and deal with each other in the spirit of brotherhood will friendship and harmony be secured. Both employer and employee need to cultivate the spirit which follows from obedience to the great commandment.

The second problem to which I would apply this platform. of peace is that which relates to the


accumulation of wealth. We cannot much longer delay consideration of the ethics of money-making. That many of the enormous fortunes which have been accumulated in the last quarter of a century are now held by men who have given to society no adequate service in return for the money secured is now generally recognized. While legislation can and should protect the public from predatory wealth, a more effective remedy will be found in the cultivation of a public opinion which will substitute a higher ideal than the one which tolerates the enjoyment of unearned gains. No man who really knows what brotherly love is will desire to take advantage of his neighbor, and the conscience when not seared will admonish against injustice.

My faith in the future rests upon the belief that Christ's 'teachings are being more studied today than ever before and that with this larger study will come an application of these teachings to the everyday life of the world. In former times men read that Christ came to bring life and immortality to light and placed the emphasis upon immortality; now they are studying Christ's relation to human life. In former years many thought to prepare themselves for future bliss by a life of seclusion here; now they are learning that they cannot follow in the footsteps of the Master unless they go about doing good. Christ declared that he came that we might have life and have it more abundantly. The world is learning that Christ came not to narrow life, but to enlarge it--to fill it with purpose, earnestness and happiness.

But this Prince of Peace promises not only peace, but strength. Some have thought his teach-


ings fit only for the weak and the timid and unsuited to men of vigor, energy and ambition. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Only the man of faith can be courageous. Confident that he ,fights on the side of Jehovah, he doubts not the success of his cause. What matters it whether he shares in the success of his cause. What matters it whether he shares in the shouts of triumph? If every word spoken in behalf of truth has its influence land every deed done for the right weights in the final account, it is immaterial to the Christian whether his eyes behold victory or whether he dies in the midst of the conflict.

"Yes, though thou lie upon the dust,

When they who helped thee flee in fear,

Die full of hope and manly trust,

Like those who fell in battle here.

Another hand thy sword shall wield,

Another hand the standard wave;

Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed

The blast of trumpet o'er the grave."

Only those who believe attempt the seemingly impossible, and, by attempting, prove that one with God can chase a thousand and two can put ten thousand to flight. I can imagine that the early Christians who were carried into the arena to make a spectacle for those more savage than the beasts, were entreated by their doubting companions not to endanger their lives. But, kneeling in the center of the arena, they prayed and sang until they were devoured. How helpless they seemed and, measured by every human rule, how hopeless was their cause! And yet within a few


decades the power which they invoked proved mightier than the legions of the emperor, and the faith in which they died was triumphant o'er all that land. It is said that those who went to mock at their sufferings returned asking themselves, "What is it that can enter into the heart of man and make him die as these die?" They were greater conquerors in their death than they could have been had they purchased life by a surrender of their faith.

What would have been the fate of the church if the early Christians had had as little faith as many of our Christians now have? And, on the other hand, if the Christians of today had the faith of the martyrs, how long would it be before the fulfillment of the prophecy that every knee shall bow and every tongue confess?

Our faith should be even stronger than the faith of those who lived two thousand years ago, for we see our religion spreading and supplanting the philosophies and creeds of the Orient.

As the Christian grows older he appreciates more and more the completeness with which Christ fills the requirements of the heart and, grateful for the peace which he enjoys and for the strength which he has received, he repeats the words of the great scholar, Sir William Jones:

"Before thy mystic altar, heavenly truth,

I kneel in manhood, as I knelt in youth,

Thus let me kneel, till this dull form decay,

And life's last shade be brightened by thy ray."