Chapter III: Part 3

(_c_) "Obedience." Just think of a company with no discipline, where every man does as he pleases, and where orders may be followed or may not. Do you suppose the glorious Canadian army could have followed the barrage at Vimy if they had not been trained to obey orders?

The good soldier is under orders and

"Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why."

They are to take the order and carry it out and the objective is won.

Then third: After all the training, the good soldier adopts four attitudes.

(_a_) Ready for inspection. How the boys used to hate polishing buttons and smoothing puttees and brushing up, but it was all good and necessary. It made the soldier who could pass muster and who showed care for himself and the appearance of his regiment.

Are you ready for inspection? It takes place. Would you like to think that the Great Inspector of life is looking at you, and if He does, could you stand that look? What about your thoughts? If the full light were turned on, would you like them to shine out just as they are? A good soldier is never afraid of being looked at.

(_b_) "Semper paratus." When you get to the high school you will learn that that means "always ready."

When I was a little boy I used to love to watch the parade of the Tenth Royal Grenadiers, and when I hear yet the band play "The Grenadiers' March," I can still feel the thrill of that wonderful regiment. Their motto on their crests and on their flags is, "Semper paratus." Whatever comes or goes; whatever orders are given; whatever work is to be done; we are ready.

(_c_) "Carry on." That means, push the job through. In rain or shine, in camp or trench, in defeat or victory, keep a-going. The war is not yours. It belongs to your country, and winning it depends on no one giving in.

(_d_) "Over the top." That is the end of it all. All the drill, all the discipline, all the training, all the marching, all the weapons; even all the rest times are to issue in the final charge.

The war is not for fun. It is desperately in earnest. It is meant to attack the enemy and wrest victory from him.

We all have sometime or other to come out into the open; out of the dugouts and trenches into the front firing line, and then over no man's land into the lines of the enemy.

Girls and boys, your battle is ahead of you. Now is the time to get ready. You are in the training camp. Home and school, and even street, are part of it. Would you not like to be ready for it all? Do you not think the end is worth all the toil?

Enrol to-day; listen to the orders; undergo the hard toil; be a good soldier; take the oath and live for it!

Many years ago every youth in ancient Athens, as soon as he was old enough, took a great oath. Here it is:

"I will not dishonour my sacred arms. I will not desert my fellow-soldier, by whose side I may be set. I will leave my country greater and not less than when she is committed to me. I will reverently obey the laws which have been established, and in time to come, shall be established by the judges. I will not forsake the temples where my fathers worshipped. Of these things the gods are my witnesses."

That is a fine oath for such early times, and filled with the modern Christian spirit. If you will take it, it will make of you a good soldier.

*XXV*

*THE SOLDIER'S OUTFIT--SHOES*

Some one says an army moves on its stomach, and I guess it does, for an empty stomach makes a poor traveller.

But it also marches on its shoes.

A poor fellow came to my church office one day to see if I could get him a pair of strong shoes. He was getting a job and his boots would not stand the strain.

In the army the boots are most necessary, because of long marches, and wet roads and soaking trenches.

One of the worst of all crimes was to make and issue bad boots to our fighting men.

There was an army rule that demanded care of the feet. Every man had to watch that part of his body, and the medical men were always seeing to it that that rule was kept.

Many a soldier had to leave his post because he had trench feet.

Donald Hankey, who wrote "A Student in Arms" and who was later killed on the Somme, gives a very tender tribute to the beloved Captain. He tells how careful he was of his men, how thoughtful and wise, how his smile encouraged them, how he bucked them up when tired, and always played the game and tried to make every man do the same. Among other things he says, "When we started route marches, and our feet were blistered and sore, as often they were at first, you would have thought that they were his own feet from the trouble he took. After a march there was always inspection of feet. If any one had a sore foot he would kneel down on the floor and look at it carefully as if he had been a doctor."

It was all because he knew the feet were so important, and you can be sure he was greatly interested in the shoes the men wore.

Now, at home, boots are also important. Sometimes it is a problem to know just how to get enough of them; but every parent likes to see his girls and boys with feet well shod and comfortable.

If they are bad, they develop corns and sores, and they go to pieces, and then what use are they?

One day I was playing in a football team, and I guess the shoemaker did not put his best into his job, for my right boot cracked and the sole fell in pieces, and if I had not borrowed one from another chap I would have been out of the game.

We all feel sorry for a poor fellow who has no good shoes. Somehow or other, even if the rest of your garments are threadbare, one does not look quite so badly off if the feet are well shod.

There is an interesting Bible story in Joshua of some of the people in Palestine who heard of the great deeds at Jericho and got afraid of Joshua and his army; and so they fixed themselves up like far-off strangers and took old sacks and old bound-up Eastern wine bottles and old garments and musty bread, and put old shoes on their feet.

The whole show worked on Joshua's heart, and he made a covenant with them, and when the surrounding people were conquered, these sly ones with the bad shoes were spared because Joshua, like the rest of us, felt sorry for people who looked so worn out.

What a splendid service is rendered by a good shoemaker, a real consecrated cobbler; and what a social wretch he is that makes boots just for pay, and passes out the kind that look all right, but are no use, and spoil the feet.

"If I were a cobbler, 'twould be my pride
The best of all cobblers to be.
If I were a tinker, no tinker beside
Should mend an old kettle like me."

Now, sometimes shoes are worn out without any good cause, like the copper toes a boy uses up, just by kicking, or the soles that go because he slides or slips along without lifting his feet square off the ground when he walks.

Parents get impatient at having to buy so many boots for children who wear them out so easily, and often can't show anything done.

But when a shoe is worn out by hard service, that old boot is quite an honourable object.

The worn-out shoes of the dear boys who fought over no man's land, or marched through the enemy's barrage, or stood for us in the blood and water stained trenches, are relics of honour.

A Spanish lullaby sings about the angels so busy that they wore out their shoes, but when the little tattered angels got to the doorway of heaven they were given new ones.

"Little shoes are sold at the doorway of heaven,
And to all the tattered little angels are given.
Slumber, my darling baby."

That is the strange lullaby sung by some Spanish mothers to put their babies to sleep.

There was a man named Bunyan, who once had a wonderful dream. It was about a sinner who became a Christian and who travelled from earth to heaven. He was shown many wonderful places and saw wonderful things, and had wonderful experiences.

Among the places he visited was the House Beautiful, and in it he was shown a great many things, and among them his guides showed him, "all manner of furniture which their Lord had provided for pilgrims, as sword, shield, helmet, breastplate, all-prayer, and _shoes that would not wear out_."

Was that not a wonderful thing to have? How pleased your dad would be if he could buy you everlasting shoes. Well, there are such, and I will tell you what they are.

(1) An old legend tells of a maiden whose footsteps left flowers blooming. Wherever she went, things were a little brighter because she went there.

I knew a little girl who was called Little Sunshine, because she was like a ray of light. She tripped around like a dancing sunbeam.

To clothe one's feet in merry sunshine is to get a covering that can't fade. There is no wear to sunshine. It is always fresh and bright and welcome. That is the kind of shoes your mother wears!

"She sings a snatch of a merry song
As she toils in her home from morn till night.
Her work is hard and the hours are long
But the little woman's heart is light."

No one ever has sore feet who wears shoes of sunshine.

(2) The Bible says it is a good thing to wear shoes that are called "the preparation of the gospel of peace."

I wonder what that means? It is not easy to say, but I fancy it means we should be always ready to preach the love gospel of Jesus.

"What!" you say. "I preach!"--Why sure! a preacher is not only a man in a pulpit on Sunday. He is one who delivers a message, and he does not have to always use his voice. Deeds talk too!

A young fellow was converted, so he said, by his mother's preaching--but she never said anything. She just lived so that when people saw her they thought of Jesus. He called it his mother's "translation of the Bible."

Our Bibles are changed from Greek and Hebrew into English. He said hers was changed from print into practice.

And those shoes that cover the feet with a Christ love message will never wear out.

There is a beautiful hymn we all love to sing. You can hear it on a victrola from a trained quartette and it sounds wonderful:

"I love to tell the story,
More wonderful it seems,
Than all the golden fancies
Of all our golden dreams.
And when in scenes of glory
I sing the new, new song,
Twill be the old, old story,
That I have loved so long."

You see it does not wear out. It is the new song and the old story. It is like the love of a mother that stays fresh and strong right up to heaven's gate.

And even a child can sing it, by just being like Him whose song it is.

The girl or boy who lives the sweet, loving Christlike life and is like a little candle shining in the night,

"You in your small corner and I in mine,"

has gospel shoes on.

There is a song we used to sing:

"Brighten the corner where you are."

A little girl in my congregation used to sing it:

"Right in the corner, where you are;"

and I believe if you and I can brighten the corner, right in the corner, where we are, we will be using shoes that never wear out.

*XXVI*

*THE SOLDIER'S OUTFIT--THE RIFLE*

You all know the difference between a shotgun and a rifle. A shotgun scatters the shot; a rifle centres the shot. A shotgun will splash the target; a rifle can make a bull's eye.

I had a medical friend who gave me what he called a shotgun prescription for rheumatism. It was made up of a lot of different prescriptions mixed together with the hope that if one did not hit the spot some other might. That is what a shotgun is like--it hits all round.

But a rifle puts its bullet just at one spot.

One represents concentration--the other scatteration.

When you examine the part of a rifle you see how it is made just for its work. There is the butt, by which you hold it steady; there is the sight, which helps you to aim; there is the long barrel, that makes the aim sure and that puts power into it; and there is the trigger, very small, but hitting the one spot where the charge is exploded.

That rifle is an object filled full of suggestions for us.

We, too, need to hold steady. A wobbler is a failure.

A piece of glue was asked how to succeed, and said, "Select some proper task, and then stick to it." That is the way a postage stamp carries your letter.

"I have noted with pride that through thick and through thin
You cling to a thing till you do it.
And whatever your aim, you are certain to win,
Because you seem bound to stick to it.
Then I turn to whatever my hands are about,
And with fortified purpose renew it
And the end soon encompass for which I set out
If only like you I stick to it."

I do not know who the author of that is, but he was right. He is a rifle.

We too need to take aim.--Did you ever see the small boy the first time he was allowed to hold a gun?

He held it up, shut his eyes, and bang! it went off, but he had not the first idea where the shot went to.

Take aim, my boy. Look along the sight and see where you are shooting. See if there is anything to shoot.

They say there is a tombstone in one of Europe's royal cemeteries with these words on it:

"_Here lies a monarch who with the_
_best of intentions, never_
_carried out a single plan._"

And to make the aim sure, and put power behind it, there is need of a long barrel. That barrel keeps the shot in. You could have a lot of gunpowder lying around loose and put a match to it and have a regular Fourth of July blaze, but it would not do much. But put a little bit of powder behind a rifle ball and hedge that ball in with a barrel, and bang! it goes with terrific power--a force strong enough to go through a sheet of iron.

That is why you go to school and why you are taught to obey, and why you have to follow rules, and why they drill you and put you under discipline. It gives you power.

The free girl and boy is not the one who can do anything he or she wants to do. That is not liberty, that is license. The free girl and boy is the trained one, and that means hard work and effort and holding in, and ruling.

I knew a girl who used to sit at a piano four hours a day, just lifting her fingers. It was dreadfully tiring, but you should have heard her play after she got the power.

Don't you go growling about being made to do this, that and the other thing. If you were not so made, you would never do anything by-and-by.

Lots of young people would like to be well known, and called a genius, and a wonder, and shine out so that people would look at them as they passed by. Well, genius is just sweating over things. Genius means hard work. It means being intense--that is a word that suggests elastic pulled out. We call it tense. It is the pulled out elastic that, when let go, makes the power of your catapult.

Columbus was a great sailor and a great man. In his journal is found this sentence: "That day we sailed westward, which was our course."

Think of those last four words. He set himself to do a thing--made a course and did it, followed it, and he got there. That is what a rifle does.

And all the great world people were like that.

Jesus "set His face" to go to Jerusalem.

One of my University class was the champion mile runner of America. I guess he would not mind if I told you his name. It was George Orton.

At the University games a lot of us students were sitting in the bleachers watching the contests. One of them was the mile race and Orton was in it. As they settled down for the mile jog, you could see them watching one another, and trying to keep as close together as possible until the last lap.

Then some one said, "Look at Orton!" And as we looked, we saw the great runner coming down the track with his face as though turned into granite, his eyes set, his teeth together, and every muscle hard as steel. He did not seem to be the same person. "His face was set" and in a second his breast had touched the tape line at the winning post.

Paul said, "This one thing I do," and it was because he put all his passion and force behind one great object that he became a rifle in the hands of the Christ.

The Book of Proverbs says, "Let thine eyes look straight forward."

Oh, girls and boys, if you want to make your mark in the world, choose a great aim, endure the work that brings it near, and then go at it and stay with it!

It was one of the most wonderful mornings of history when was fought the battle of Vimy Ridge, that helped to turn back the German hosts.

I had a friend in Vancouver who stood at one end of that fiery line, at the early zero hour that day. He said it was the most majestic sight he ever saw when, in the early gray dawn, three thousand artillery opened at once and belched forth fire and shot all concentrated on one spot. He said it was so terrible that he could hardly think of even a pin being left on the ground.

It was a clean sweep, that barrage that prepared for the bayonet charge of the Canadian Brigade.

All victory is won by that concentration of purpose.

Do you not want victory?

I am sure you do not want to be defeated in your life. You want to make a bull's eye. If you do, take a definite aim; form your plan and fire in that direction.

Do you know that one of the Old Testament words for sin means "missing the mark"?

You and I are not made to hit the target of life on the outside edge. We are made to hit it in the centre.

Therefore, young folks, be a rifle with a single aim, and make your bull's eye!

There is a poem by a great man called Goethe. It is a little hard, but I believe you can understand it if you study it out, and it is worth a little study. Here it is:

"Are you in earnest? Choose the very minute
What you can do, or think you can begin it.
Boldness has genius, power, magic in it.
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated.
Begin, and then the work will be completed."

*XXVII*

*THE SOLDIER'S OUTFIT--THE BELT AND PUTTEE*

Nearly every girl and boy loves a uniform. I am not sure but that grown-up people do too.

Now, a uniform has to be neat. If it is not, it looks the opposite of attractive.

And two things help to make it neat and trim: One is the belt that holds the tunic in, and the other the puttees that fold up the trouser legs. They make the soldier smart-looking. As the modern small boy says, "They are classy!"

And they are so useful.

To-day, golfers and outdoor sports, even women, put on knickers and roll up tight things that are loose, because then they can do better work and play.

The belt and puttee make the soldier firm and strong, and fit for travel and work. They brace him up, hold him together, give him support.

Now, one of the Bible messages is, "Gird up your loins." The loins are the centre of your body, where you are apt to get weak or sore backs.

Perhaps you have had that feeling come, as though you were going to break in half. It is because you have not been strong enough in the centre for the strain.

1. Why should we be girded up? Well, of course, in Bible days, and in Eastern countries, the very clothing made a hard journey or a task needing exercise very difficult. They wore flowing robes with wide sleeves, like a college gown. Now, nobody could do a trail ranger's work within that dress.

When a racer runs a race, or a boxer enters the ring, or an athlete goes into a gymnasium or on to the field, they take off all that is not necessary.

Even the Eastern people wear girdles and sashes to hold in their loose clothing.

You need to be held tight together if you want to be able to swing yourself. You can't be free in garments that cling to you, and wrap themselves about your legs and arms.

The same is true of your mind. It won't work if it is not held in.

Nor will your soul.

Jesus, in His parable, says we must have our lamps lit and our loins girded, because only then will we be ready for the chance when it comes--and it may spring on us unannounced.

That is the purpose of school and work and lessons and exercises. Life is not an easy job.

If you have read "Tom Brown's Schooldays" (and I hope you have or will) you will find the author saying that "life is no fool's or sluggard's paradise, but a battlefield ordained from of old, where there are no spectators, and the youngest must take his stand, and the stakes are life and death."

If you go to a hockey match or a baseball game, you can sit in the grand-stand and look on; but there is no grand-stand in life, and no looking on. We are all in it, and, therefore, we need to be ready.

Now, being ready is just girding yourself--gathering yourself together so you can make an effort. And if you do not make an effort, you will leave behind no mark, any more than you do when you put your finger in a pail of water and pull it out again.

2. The puttee is to make us tight and strong and ready to march; but the belt is also to hang things on.

That is the worst of life--we have to carry a lot of burdens. Some of them, of course, we make for ourselves. We often tie things on to us by silly acts and sins. The best thing to do with them is not to have any, or get rid of them as soon as possible.

But there are real burdens that God sends. They are His gifts to us, and we need a place to carry them--duties and tasks and home calls and troubles and sorrows. Oh, there are a lot of things to do, and if you have no belt, where in the world are you going to hang them all?

3. Now the Bible says a splendid girdle is "Truth."

A true girl and boy is well-knit, straight up and down, like a perpendicular line. You know where to find them. They will always win out. They have no sloppy one-sidedness that will tip them over. And they can carry a lot of things on their belt.

A false boy and girl double up when a burden is put on them. They are too weak to bear up. But a true one stands so nobly, and whatever you lay on them, you know they will carry safely.

And what is Truth?

It means being real, whole, not broken up, not a fraction, but a whole number. It means ringing true, like a bell without a crack.

In early times, they used sometimes to make images, and when they got cracked and old, they would patch them up with wax and putty and then paint them over till they looked lovely; and sold them for real things. By-and-by the weather and time wore off the paint and dug out the wax, and then they stood in their shameful cracky look, and people said, do not be waxy, but genuine right through.

The word "sincere" is from two Latin words, sine--without, and cera--wax.

The true girl and boy is unwaxed. There is no paint covering up nasty cracks. They ring true.

I went into a store once in Toronto and had an awful experience. I bought some article and sent in an American cart-wheel. That, you know, is a silver dollar. It shot up the wind tubes to the office, and in a jiffy it was shot back down again, with an acid stain on it.

It was a false piece! What do you think of that? I was so confused, for I feared they might think I was trying to pass bad money. And me a minister too!

When it struck the testing table, it did not ring right, and the acid soon told the story, and I got the old fraud back again.

Any life like that has not got on the girdle of truth. It is like a glittering object on the ground that looks like a diamond, but proves to be glass. It is like a piece of timber that looks all right and is put in the ship, but it had a worm inside, and became rotten, and the ship sank.

Gird yourselves up, girls and boys. Fasten up your life, strong and firm, and be true, and you will have a great help in being a good soldier of Jesus Christ.

*XXVIII*

*THE SOLDIER'S OUTFIT--THE KIT BAG*

When you go on a journey you carry a suitcase, or you take a trunk, in which you place your belongings that you will need while away from home.

When the soldier goes off to the war he has a bag in which he puts some of the things he cannot do without--things that are absolutely necessary.

First. It is wonderful when you come down to bed rock, how few things we need, after all. Most of us are overburdened.

There is hardly a girl or boy that has not a whole lot of unused baggage lying around--old toys and books, old ribbons and hats. They fill the bureau drawer and lie around the room and take up space in cupboards until your mother simply gives them away or burns them up.

When I left Vancouver to come to Toronto, I had a bonfire in my back yard for a lot of stuff that I used to think I had to save up.

Houses are like that, too. I roomed once in a very beautiful home, but the drawing-room was so full of furniture that you could not turn around without getting a bump somewhere.

There are a lot of things in our homes and a lot of material in our lives, and a lot of stuff in our minds that is just like piles of old lumber in the fence corner, doing no good; or like a lot of old clothes in a cupboard, only gathering moths.

The soldier knows that, and he just carries around what he can use, and the kit bag is where he keeps them. It is a very fine thing to be able to carry useful things around with us.

A useless girl or boy is usually in the road.

What is the good of a lot of clothes if you can't wear them?

I saw a man on the vessel on which I once sailed to Australia who had seventeen suits of clothes, and their chief use was in keeping busy his cabin boy, who brushed them.

And what's the use of a lot of information in your mind if you can't use it?

I do not know which is the worse, having too many things or having nothing useful.

I have read of a beehive in California, away out on the face of a cliff. It is stored full, but all day long hundreds of bees swarm around the cave; and while men have put on leather suits, very little has ever been secured from that nest of useless sweetness.

But second: The kit bag has in it not merely things the soldier has to daily use--socks to keep his feet warm and dry; brushes to keep the snarl out of his hair; razors to keep his face smooth; soap to keep him clean--but he also stores away in it precious things, and they are useful too: Letters from home--what would he do without their messages of love?

They say the saddest sight in a camp was the disappointed face of a boy when the mail came and there was nothing for him.

If you are a young person, away from home and forget the old folks, that's the way your mother looks when you neglect to write.

"The tender words unspoken,
The letters never sent,
The long-forgotten messages,
The wealth of love unspent.
For these some hearts are breaking,
For these some loved ones wait;
So show them that you care for them,
Before it is too late."

There are books and photographs of those beloved, looked at first thing in the morning and last at night; and when the kit and all belongings are left in store when the battle is on, those precious photos are taken out and hidden next the heart, under the tunic.

There, too, is the Testament, placed by loving hands when the outfit was packed--perhaps the mother gave her own to her boy when he left; and there is a smudge mark yet on the cover, where a tear dropped, that she tried very hard not to let fall, but could not help it.

Many a boy valued that Testament, and after some of them were found, there lay in the pocket, with the pages glued together by the blood, and sometimes torn with a bullet mark, the gift of pious love.

Oh, how grand it is to have a life filled with precious values--the values that make us richer, and help to adorn us and cheer us and brighten us.

A little child on the seashore saw a bright spangle. Picking it up, she found it was attached to a gold thread, and drawing the thread, she found other spangles, which she wound round her neck and body, covering it with brightness. And as we go through life, it is very lovely to pick up the precious sparkling things filled with love value, and wind them around our hearts.

Dear girls and boys, have you anything of value in your lives--of a real worth while--real costly things?

Marbles and toys and air balloons, and wrist watches and spats and gorgeous neckties are all right; but you will need more if you are going to amount to anything, and I suggest you store up your kit bag with precious things of noble thoughts and full minds and sweet memories and useful deeds, for it is not what you have or how much you weigh that counts, but what you are and what you can do.

Did you ever hear people discussing somebody, and did you overhear some one say, "Oh, there's nothing in him." There may be feet in his boots, and arms in his coat sleeves and legs in his pants, and a head in his hat, but his real self is empty--"To Let" is seen written over his face.

Be something in this toiling age
Of busy hands and feet.
A light upon some darkened page,
A shelter from the heat.
Be found upon the workmen's roll,
Go sow or plant or plough.
Bend to the task with willing soul.
Be something, somewhere, now.

Third: Each soldier has to have a kit bag, and he puts his name on it in white paint, so that everybody knows it is his.

You and I have to carry our belongings with us too, good or bad, and nobody can steal them, as sometimes happened with the boys' kit bags. Ours always go along with us.

It seems so foolish not to gather good belongings that you won't want to bury or throw away. Life is a queer sort of thing, and the strange thing is that while you carry your belongings with you, you are also sending them on ahead of you, and they build your future home.

A woman once dreamed that she died and went up to heaven. Angel guides took her through the lovely city and showed her its wonderful streets and homes.

One was a magnificent palace with a beautiful situation, and great towers and windows. She asked who it was for and was surprised to hear it was for her footman who did the dirty work around the stable and house.

In another street was a little bungalow--beautiful too, for everything was fair and lovely, but still very small and humble. She asked who that was for, and was told it was to be her future home. In disgust she said, "What! Do you know who I am, and how much wealth I have? You give my ignorant footman a great palace, and me this little bit of a place!" And the angel quietly said, "Well, madam, we are doing our best with what's sent up."

So you see your kit bag possessions are with you now, but the real possessions of your life, your thoughts and words and deeds are helping to form the home you will some day live in forever.

I think it would be a good idea to see that we have only the best, and send on only those things that will help build a beautiful home of the soul.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, a great American writer, once wrote these words:

"Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll;
Leave thy low vaulted past;
Let each new temple nobler than the last
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea."

*XXIX*

*THE SOLDIER'S OUTFIT--THE UNIFORM*

The uniform helps to change a variegated mass of men into an army. A regiment would not look anything like what it does were it not for the uniform.

It is the kilts that not only have a history but that give the Highlanders their glorious influence. The Scotchman thinks the kilties are the only soldiers, and one can respect his enthusiasm, for great deeds have been done by the troops from the land of the heather.

The uniform puts the finishing touch on a soldier.

I have seen the boys take the oath, but it was after they visited the storehouse and came out in the glory of the khaki, with their swagger stick, that you saw written all over them, "I'm a soldier of the king."

That uniform is the badge of service. Every one who wears it is a marked man. His uniform proclaims him. He does not need a tag.

A girl was once converted at some church meetings, and she went up to an old member and with shining face, said, "Oh, Mr. Blank, I am a Christian, and I wish you were one too." The old man flushed and said, "My dear little girl, I have been a Christian for forty years." "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry I spoke. I never knew."

He was a Christian but nobody knew. He lacked the marks.

But a soldier, once he dons the uniform, is at once known.

More than that, a uniform is like a flag. It represents the empire. Each nation has its own flag and its own uniform, and wherever its soldiers go, they carry, so to speak, their country with them.

If they are bad, they dishonour their flag and bring disgrace on their colours and the uniform.

One of the greatest motives behind the men in the war was "the honour of the company or the regiment or the battalion or the brigade."

One company lost a trench and were heartsick with depression, and when the time came, half dead with weariness and hunger and thirst, they retook it and were happy because they had saved the honour of the company. The uniform means that.

A bad man or a coward not only hurts himself, but he brings disgrace on the company. Every deed of evil or cowardice comes back on the flag and the country to which the man belongs who wears its uniform.

The uniform speaks to the soldier of duty--it makes duty easier. In New York the street sweepers were clad in a white uniform and they say every man felt a little bigger and better and more anxious to do better work because of the uniform.

A boy in the Trail Rangers or the Boy Scouts can't help feeling the influence of his uniform.

A mother told me about her daughter, a Girl Guide, doing something wrong in school one day when she had on the uniform. The mother said, "Oh, daughter, you did not do it with the uniform on, did you?" And it nearly broke the child's heart.

You can't do things in uniform you might do in plain clothes. It makes you a member of a league of honour, in spite of yourself. It bucks a fellow up and sort of puts him on his honour. It says, "Here, you are not your own now. You belong as you never did before to your country, and your country is counting on you." A chap can hardly go back on that!

The uniform proclaims loyalty too.

To don the khaki meant that the boy heard the call. The S.O.S. sounded his country's need, and up he sprang because he was a loyal subject. Of course, some loyal subjects could not and did not have to join the army. But every one who could did, unless he was a shirker and a slacker.

Loyalty means doing your duty. It means ready to do your bit whether at home or on the firing-line. It does not matter which, if it is your bit.

More than that, the uniform puts responsibility on the wearer. You know how big even a boy can feel when he joins the Boys' Brigade or the Boy Scouts and gets a uniform on. It makes him feel inches taller, and his chest gets thicker, which is perfectly right. He will do things in uniform and under the spell of what it all means that before he would hardly dare believe to be possible.

The uniform is full of history, just as the flag is, and somehow when it is donned, all the great history presses on the wearer and makes a bigger man of him, if he has anything in him, and makes him able for big things.

"Britain be proud of such a son!--
Deathless the fame which he has won.
Only a boy--but such a one;
Standing forever by his gun;
There was his duty to be done--
And he did it."

If your dad had a boy or if you had a brother who heard the world's call, and signed up and was measured and had his muscles and heart and lungs and eyes all tested, and then in one big moment, while his dad's throat was choking, stood up erect before the officer and swore in for service; and if later that boy or brother came up home all shining in buttons, with his boots black and his puttees neat and strong, and his belt tightening up his loins--you know just how a new passion of loyalty would surge through you.

If you were a girl you would be sorry, and decide to try to go as a nurse, or perhaps drive a car; if you were a young boy, you would hit your toy drum harder and step out more briskly and tell all the other boys you thought you could get the job of a drummer.

Oh, the uniform does help to deepen our sense of loyalty.

Now, girls and boys, I am telling you all this for a purpose. You know there is another army all over the world called the Salvation Army, made up of people who wear uniforms and play bands and go to war against the worst of all enemies, the one called Sin. And they do a wonderful lot of good in the world and deserve our respect and support. They have won by their loyalty even homage from kings.

But did you know your father and mother, who are members of the church, belong to an army too, and wear a uniform too? It is the great army of Jesus Christ, those who have sworn to be His servants and to do His work, and the uniform is just their Christian life.

I know some church members do not look or act any different from those who are not. But the real member tries to and when he joins he puts on the uniform of a Christlike life which works for Christlike ends.

When the Christians first began to live it all out, the world used to say, "See how these Christians love one another." Their Christian membership was like a badge. Everybody knew where they belonged.

I want to ask you to join up there and put on the uniform of church membership. I will tell you why.

It helps to make you a better Christian. It is taking your stand on His side, and you can't do that, if you mean it, without being made deeper and stronger.

I do not think any one can be as good outside the church as in it, and I am sure we should be better inside than out of it. Those who are good without going to church are good because the church has made it possible. Just as all who were not in the army were safe because the great army and navy were protecting them. But it is not fair to borrow other people's money to live on. You should have your own. And it is not fair to get the good the church brings us without coming in and helping her. It is not fair to give no return for service received.

So I ask you to join God's church because it helps you, and it helps the church and it tells everybody where you stand.

Then it expresses your loyalty. Jesus gives us His church and if everybody refused to come in, it would die, and His work would perish.

Announce your loyalty now! Fight the fight now!

"He is counting on you!
On a love that will share
In His burden of prayer,
For the souls He has bought
With His life blood and sought,
Through His sorrow and pain
To win 'home' yet again.
He is counting on you;
If you fail Him--what then?"

It is very hard to be a citizen-at-large, that is, a citizen of the world. You have to be a citizen of some country.

A great Scotch poet said:

"Breathes there a man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land."

To love the world you have to know how to love your own part of it.

And so in order to tell the world of our loyalty to Christ, we need to fasten down to the church that stands for Christ.

To have a sort of general love for God without helping to spread His cause will soon result in the loss of your love for God.

Take away the church for ten years, and you would not want to live in your town after.

And then it is a fine thing to put the church uniform on as early as possible. It is not fair to live your life for yourself and your own pleasures until you get too old for them, and then bring what is left and offer it to God.

In the Old Testament days it was the unblemished lamb that was asked for; and, dear girls and boys, God wants you now, in the days of your youth. The church needs your fresh, bright young lives. The future so big with promise needs strength and vigour, and you have it. Therefore, do not stand off, but line up soon, and then you will have a long life of service, and not a poor little meagre piece at the end.

The sooner you become an out-and-out worker for Jesus, the more you will be able to help Him. There is no life sadder than to have to go out at the end with no record of service.

A young man, dying, had given himself to God but seemed sad and troubled, and they asked him what was the matter, had he lost his trust? "Oh, no," he said, "not that, but I have to go and meet Jesus with empty hands!"

And some one wrote a hymn which says:

"Must I go and empty handed,
Thus my dear Redeemer meet,
Not one day of service give Him,
Lay no trophies at His feet?"

You, girls and boys, put the Christian uniform on now; join up soon. Then think of the long and splendid record of service that will be yours if you stand loyal to the army of Jesus Christ.

*XXX*

*"Q" AND "S" GROCERY*

Did you ever hear of that sort of a store? When I first saw the sign I wondered what it meant. I had heard of college societies with letters that describe them, and I had seen letters like that on music sheets; but whatever could it stand for over a grocery store?

Perhaps it meant "Quick and Sure" or perhaps it was the name of the men who owned it, only I could not see why they should be ashamed of their name, for most merchants want their name known.

At last some one told me it stood for "Quality" and "Service." Then I saw what a splendid sign it was.

It made people curious. It was so mysterious-looking that everybody would ask about it and talk about it, and that would advertise it; while the meaning, once found out, made you feel confident. A store that serves out quality is worth going to.

Any one who can show that he has quality and that he is anxious to serve is worth getting acquainted with.

Think of those two things.

(_a_) Quality.

So many hunt after quantity. When I was a very small boy my grandfather used to offer me my choice between a nickel and a big copper penny, and I took the penny every time. It was more to hold. I could feel it better.

Every child would rather have a big apple than a little one, and they all hunt the plate for the biggest piece of cake or pie. Some big people are no better, for they do not always look for quality, either.

Big things do appeal to us.--Big mountains and big seas, and big trees and big houses, and big horses and big automobiles, and big men, and I suppose it has a place.

It is wonderful to stand in the mountains and just feel their great size; it is an inspiration to go out to British Columbia and stand in some forest corridor and look up at those great Douglas firs, that tower up above your heads and spread their branches over a field.

In Vancouver, at Stanley Park, there is one so big that autos back into it and have a photograph taken.

But after all, the chief thing is not size, but meaning and character. There are some big vegetables that are so big they are no use. They are soft and overgrown.

Soul is more important than bulk.

"For tho' the giant ages heave the hill
And break the shore and ever more
Make and break and work their will
Though world on world in myriad myriads roll
Round us each with different powers
And other forms of life than ours
What know we greater than the soul."

Have you ever gone out on a frosty night and looked up at the sky and thought of the great spaces above you, and the sun millions of miles off? Did you know that if a train travelling one mile every minute could fall off the earth and keep going, it would take forty millions of years to reach the nearest fixed star? And yet your soul is more important than it all!

"Knowest thou the value of a soul immortal?
Behold the midnight glory, worlds on worlds
Amazing pomp. Redouble this amaze;
Ten thousand add, add twice ten thousand more
Then weigh the whole; one soul outweighs them all,
And calls the astonishing magnificence
Of unintelligent creation poor."

There is a wonderful instrument used by men of science, called a microscope, and it shows us that the smallest things are more wonderful even than the big things you can see with your eye. The little insect that makes the coral, that is so graceful, is an object of wondrous beauty under the microscope.

When you buy a flower, it is not the biggest you want, it is the richest and loveliest, the one of quality.

What is it makes a man? Not size. That may make a prize-fighter, but who wants to be a prize-fighter? He is muscle and bone and beef, but that is not manhood.

A real man is a gentleman, even if he is not much to boast of in size. The real signs are not those of bigness, but something inside of him--the peculiar quality that makes you honour and love him.

Here is what Margaret Sangster says of it:

THE LITTLE GENTLEMAN

I knew him for a gentleman
By signs that never fail;
His coat was rough and rather worn,
His cheeks were thin and pale;
A lad who had his way to make
With little time for play;
I knew him for a gentleman
By certain signs to-day.

He met his mother on the street,
Off came his little cap;
My door was shut, he waited there
Until I heard his rap.
He took the bundle from my hand;
And when I dropped the pen,
He sprang to pick it up for me--
This little gentleman of ten.

He does not push or crowd along.
His voice is gently pitched;
He does not fling his books about
As if he were bewitched.
He stands aside to let you pass,
He always shuts the door.
He runs on errands willingly,
To forge or mill or store.

He thinks of you before himself;
He serves you if he can,
For in whatever company
The manners make the man.
At ten or forty 'tis the same.
The manner tells the tale;
And I discern the gentleman
By signs that never fail.

I have read of three women who were once talking about pretty hands. Not one of them tested the matter by the size of their hands, and yet they, too, forgot quality. One said she kept hers pretty by washing them in milk; another dipped hers in berry juice, and the third washed hers in the fragrance of flowers.

While they were talking, a poor old woman came and asked for something to eat, and they were so busy talking about the kind of hands they had they could not help her.

Another woman whose hands were worn with work, and hardened by the sun, and all wrinkled, and who was passing by, listened to the poor old woman's cry, and fed her. Then she asked the three what they had been doing, and they said, "We will leave it to you to say whose hands are the loveliest." And do you know, girls and boys, she passed by the hands of milky whiteness and the hands that smelt of flowers, and turning to the working woman said, "She has the prettiest, for she uses them for gifts to others!"

It is quality of character that counts.