The War Romance of the Salvation Army | Page 7

with its titles rambling into all languages, a soldiery
spreading over all lands, a banner upon which the sun never goes
down-with its head in the heart of a cluster of islands set in the grey,
wind-blown Northern seas, while its territories are scattered over every

sea and under every sky.
The world has wondered what has been the controlling force holding
this strange empire together. What is the electro-magnetism governing
its furthest atom as though it were at your elbow? What is the magic
sceptre that compels this diversity of peoples to act as one man? What
is the master passion uniting these multifarious pulsations into one
heart-beat?
Has it been a sworn-to signature attached to bond or paper? No; these
can all too readily be designated "scraps" and be rent in twain. Has it
been self-interest and worldly fame? No, for all selfish gain has had to
be sacrificed upon the threshold of the contract. Has it been the bond of
kinship, or blood, or speech? No, for under this banner the British
master has become the servant of the Hindoo, and the American has
gone to lay down his life upon the veldts of Africa. Has it been the
bond of that almost supernatural force, glorious patriotism? No, not
even this, for while we "know no man after the flesh," we recognize our
brother in all the families of the earth, and our General infused into the
breasts of his followers the sacred conviction that the Salvationist's
country is the world.
What was it? What is it? Those ties created by a spiritual ideal. Our
love for God demonstrated by our sacrifice for man.
My father, in a private audience with the late King Edward, said: "Your
Majesty, some men's passion is gold; some men's passion is art; some
men's passion IB fame; my passion is man!"
This was in our Founder's breast the white flame which ignited like
sparks in the hearts of all his followers.
_Man is our life's passion._
It is for man we have laid our lives upon the altar. It is for man we have
entered into a contract with our God which signs away our claim to any
and all selfish ends. It is for man we have sworn to our own hurt,
and--my God thou knowest-when the hurt came, hard and hot and fast,
it was for man we held tenaciously to the bargain.
After the torpedoing of the Aboukir two sailors found themselves
clinging to a spar which was not sufficiently buoyant to keep them both
afloat. Harry, a Salvationist, grasped the situation and said to his mate:
"Tom, for me to die will mean to go home to mother. I don't think it's
quite the same for you, so you hold to the spar and I will go down; but

promise me if you are picked up you will make my God your God and
my people your people." Tom was rescued and told to a weeping
audience in a Salvation Army hall the act of self-sacrifice which had
saved his life, and testified to keeping his promise to the boy who had
died for him.
When the Empress of Ireland went down with a hundred and thirty
Salvation Army officers on board, one hundred and nine officers were
drowned, and not one body that was picked up had on a life-belt. The
few survivors told how the Salvationists, finding there were not enough
life- preservers for all, took off their own belts and strapped them upon
even strong men, saying, "I can die better than you can;" and from the
deck of that sinking boat they flung their battle-cry around the world--
_Others!_
_Man!_ Sometimes I think God has given us special eyesight with
which to look upon him, We look through the exterior, look through the
shell, look through the coat, and find the man. We look through the
ofttimes repulsive wrappings, through the dark, objectionable coating
collected upon the downward travel of misspent years, through the
artificial veneer of empty seeming-through to the man.
He that was made after God's image.
He that is greater than firmaments, greater than suns, greater than
worlds.
Man, for whom worlds were created, for whom Heavens were canopied,
for whom suns were set ablaze. He in whose being there gleams that
immortal spark we call the soul. And when this war came, it was
natural for us to look to the man-the man under the shabby clothes,
enlisting in the great armies of freedom; the man going down the street
under the spick and span uniform; the man behind the gun, standing in
the jaws of death hurling back world autocracy; the man, the son of
liberty, discharging his obligations to them that are bound; the man,
each one of them,