Skip to main content


See other formats

g. S 351 

our Card in This Pocket 

Books will be issued only on presentation of proper 

Untesbee otherwise, books may be retain*! 
for four weeks. Borrowers finding books marked, de- 
aced or mutilated are expected to report .same j* 
Ky de?k; otherwise the last borrower wdl be held 

overdue books 2c.a day plus oostof 

cardS.iSnd chan^.of residence must be re 
ported promptly.' 

Public Library 

*< , 

Kansas City, Mo. 

jeep Your Card in This Pgcjbt 




MAR 15 




JUL 07 95 



The entire contents of this book are protected by th 
stringent new copyright law, and all persons are warned 
not to attempt to reproduce the text, in whole or in part, 
or any of the illustrations. 


My friend. Dr. William T. Ellis, the 
author of this took, knows me and my work 

His estimate of me, and his int.erpre- 
tation of my work, are, of course, en 
tirely his own. 

The chapters contributed "by me are 
substantially the message I have spoken 
wherever I have preached. 


Because he is the most conspicuous Christian leader in 
America today; because he has done an entirely unique 
and far-reaching work of evangelism; and because his words 
have a message for all men, I have written, at the request 
of the publishers, this narrative concerning Rev. William A. 
Sunday, D.D. 

The final appraisal of the man and his ministry cannot, 
of course, be made while he is alive, "Never judge unfin 
ished work." This book has endeavored to deal candidly, 
though sympathetically, with its subject. Mr. Sunday has 
not seen either the manuscript or proofs. He has, however, 
authorized the use of the messages which he is accustomed 
to deliver in his meetings, and which comprise more than 
half the contents of the volume. 

The author's hope is that those of us who are just 
plain " folks" will find the book interesting and helpful. He 
has no doubt that professional Christian workers will 
get many suggestions from the story of Mr. Sunday's 

I would acknowledge the assistance of Miss Helen Cramp 
and the Rev. Ernest Bawden in collating and preparing 
for publication Mr. Sunday's utterances. 





Preface 5 

Contents 7 

One of God's Tools 

God's Man Sent in God's Time Sunday's Converts Re 
ligion and the Common People A Great City Shaken 
by the Gospel Popular Interest in Vital Religion 
Sunday a Distinctively American Type 15 

Up from the Soil 

Sunday's Sympathy with Every-day Folk Early Life The 
Soldiers' Orphanage The Old Farm Earning a Living. 
The School of Experience First Base-ball Ventures 22 

A Base-Ball "Star" 

Fame as a Base-ball Player Eagerness to "Take a Chance" 
Record Run on the Day Following his Conversion 
The Parting of the Ways 33 

A Curbstone Recruit 

Mrs. Clark and the Pacific Garden Mission Sunday's Own 
Story of his Conversion Winning the Game of Life. . . 39 

Playing the New Game 

The Individuality of the Man His Marriage Mrs. Sun 
day's Influence Work in the Y. M. C. A. A Father 
Disowned Redeeming a Son The Gambler A Living 
Testimony Professional Evangelistic Work 4S 



A Shut Door and an Open One 

Sunday Thrown Upon His Own Resources by Dr. Chap 
man's Return to Philadelphia Call to Garner, Iowa 
"This is the Lord's Doings" 57 

Campaigning for Christ 

Splendid Organization of a Sunday Campaign Churcn Co 
operationThe Power of Christian Publicity District 
Prayer Meetings Sunday's Army of Workers The 
Sunday Tabernacle The Evangelist's Own Compensa 
tionPersonnel of the Sunday Party ^. 61 

"Speech Seasoned with Salt" 

Vivid Language of the Common People "Rubbing the 
Fur the Wrong Way" "Delivering the Goods" Shak 
ings from the Sunday Salt-cellar 69 

Battling with Booze 

An Effective Foe of the Liquor Business "Dry" Victories 
Following Sunday Campaigns "De Brewer's Big 
Bosses" The Famous "Booze" Sermon Interest in 
Manhood Does the Saloon Help Business? The Parent 
of ^ Crimes The Economic Side Tragedies Born of 
Drink More Economics The American Mongoose 
The Saloon a Coward God's Worst Enemy What 
Will a Dollar Buy? The Gin Mill A Chance for Man 
hoodPersonal Liberty The Moderate Drinker 
What Booze Does to the System , 80 


"Give Attendance to Reading 11 

Sunday's Reverence for "Book Learning" No Claim to 
Originality Some Sources of His Sermons God's 
Token of Love The Sinking Ship "What If It Had 
Been My Boy?" A Dream of Heaven The Battle 
with Death "Christ or Nothing" Calvary The 
World for God A Word Picture The Faithful Pilot. . 121 

Acrobatic Preaching 

Platform Gymnastics The Athlete in the Preacher Sun 
day's Sense of Humor Stronger than His Sense of 
Pathos His Voice and Manner Personal Side of *.^ 
Sunday 1 138 

"* , ."'"'"" 


"The Old-Time Religion" 

Sunday's Power of Positive Conviction EGs Ideas of Theol 
ogyThe Need of Old-time Revival The Gospel Ac 
cording to Sunday Salvation a Personal Matter "And 
He Arose and Followed Him" At the Cross-roads 
"He Died for Me" 146 

c< Bltts2ig the Sawdust Trail" 

Origin of the Phrase, "The Sawdust Trail" Impressive 
Scenes as Converts by the Hundred Stream Forward 
Vital Religion Mr. Sunday's Hand All Sorts and Con 
ditions of People 158 


The Service of Society 

Social and Ethical Results of Sunday's Preaching The Potent 
Force of the Gospel Religion in Every~day Life 
Testimony of Rev, Joseph H. Odell, D.D. Testimony 
of Rev. Maitland Alexander, DJ) The "Garage Bible 
Class " Making Religion a Subject of Ordinary Con 
versationLasting Results A Life Story 167 


living the Devil His Due 

Sunday's Sense of the Reality of the Devil Excoriation 
of -the Devil "Devil" Passages from Sermons 182 


Critics and Criticism 

Storm of Criticism a Tribute Preaching "Christ Crucified " 
.Recognition from Secretary Bryan Pilgrimage of 
Philadelphia Clergymen Heaven's Messenger Plain 
Speech from Sunday Himself 188 


A Clean Man on Social Sins 

Clean-mindedness" of the Man A Plain Talk to Men- 
Christian Character Common Sense No Excuse for 
Swearing Family Skeletons Nursing Bad Habits 
The Leprosy of Sin "But the Lord Looketh on the 
Heart" The Joy of Religion A Plain Talk to 
Women Hospitality Maternity Out of Fashion The 
Girl Who Flirts The Task of Womanhood 202 



"Help Those Women 51 PACm 
Sunday's Honor of Womanhood The Sermon on "Mother" 
A Mother's Watchfulness A Mother's Bravery 
Good Mothers Needed God's Hall of Fame A Moth 
er's Song A Mother's Love A Mother's Responsi 
bilityMothers of Great Men 231 

( [ Standing on the Rock 

The Old-Fashioned Loyalty of the Evangelist to the Bible- 
Some of His Utterances on the Bible 249 

Making a Joyful Noise 

No Gloom in a Sunday Eevival The Value of a Laugh 
The Value of Music The Tabernacle Music The Cam 
paign Choirs A Eevival of Song 261 

The Prophet and His Own Time 

The Evangelist's Arraignment of the Sins of Today His 
Treatment of the Church and Society 267 

x Those Billy Sunday Prayers 

Unconventionally of the Prayers Specimen Prayers 
"Teach Us to Pray" Learning of Christ Pride 
Hinders Prayer Praying in Secret Praying in Humility 
Men of Prayer 271 

The Revival on Trial 

The Sea of Faces Laboratory Tests "The Need of 
Revivals" What a Revival Does Revival Demands 
Sacrifice Persecution a Godsend 288 



An Army With Banners PACffl 

Unique Plans for Reaching the Masses of the People Visit 
ing Delegations Parade at Close of Campaign 
"Spiritual Power" Derelicts in the Church The 
Meaning of^ Power Church Needs Great Awakening 
Lost Power. ......................................... 299 


A Life Enlistment 

Some Notable Instances of the Lasting Results of Sunday 
Revivals "Gospel Teams "Sermon on "Sharp-Shoot 
ers" The Value of Personal Work " My Father's 
Business" Feeding the Spiritual Life The Dignity of 
Personal Work Five Classes of People ooaa aooeoot 060 311 

"A Good Soldier of Jesus Christ* 1 

Astounding Number of Conversions Statistics of Cam 
paigns in Various Cities Sunday ? s "Consecration" 
Sermon God's Mercies The Living Sacrifice A Glass 
of Champagne Denying One's Self Thinking for 
God What God Asks ........................ .7. ... 326 


A Wonderful Day at a Great University 
Visit to University of Pennsylvania " What Shall I Do 
Wrfch Jesus?" "Real Manhood" * Hot-cakes Off the 
Griddle" Comment of Old Pmn Opinions of Students 
Comment of Religious Press. ..................... 343 

The Christian's Daily Helper 

"The Holy Spirit** No Universal Salvation Happiest 
Nation on Earth Ambassadors of God Holy Spirit 
a Person The Last Dispensation " Little Things" 
The Fame of a Christian e , . 


A Victorious Sermon * 

Conquests by the Sermon on "The Unpardonable Sin" 
What It Is Resisting the Truth "Too Late" 
Representative of the Trinity Death-bed Confessions 
A Forgiving God Power of Revivals. , , , 370 

\ [ Eternity! Eternity! 

"What Shall the End Be?" Men Believe in God At the 

Cross The Judgment of God Glad Tidings to All 

The Atonement of Christ God's Word Eternity and 

Space God's Infinite Love Preparing for Eternity 

A Leap in the Dark "The End Thereof" 383 

'\ Owe long Home 

"Heaven" "I, Too, feast Die" No Substitute for Re 
ligion Morality Not Enough The Way of Salvation- 
Rewards of Merit A Place of Noble People "A Place 
for You" The Missing 04 



V 'Glorying in the Cross 

"Atonement" Suffering-- for the Guilty Jesus' Atoning 

Blood No Argument Against Sin " There is Sin" 

"How Long, God?" 


One of God f s Tools 

1 want to be a giant for God. BILLY SUNDAY, 

HEAVEN often plays jokes on earth's worldly-wise. 
After the consensus of experience and sagacity has 
settled upon a certain course and type, lo, all the 
profundity of the sages is blown away as a speck of dust 
and we have, say, a shockingly unconventional John the 
Baptist, who does not follow the prescribed rules in dress, 
training, methods or message. John the Baptist was God's 
laugh at the rabbis and the Pharisees. 

In an over-ecclesiastical age, when churchly authority 
had reached the limit, a poor monk, child of a miner's hut, 
without influence or favor, was called to break the power of 
the popes, and to make empires and reshape history, flinging 
his shadow far down the centuries. Martin Luther was God's 
laugh at ecclesiasticism. 

While the brains and aristocracy and professional 
statesmanship of America struggled in vain with the nation's 
greatest crisis, God reached down close to the soil of the raw 
and ignored Middle West, and picked up a gaunt and un 
tutored specimen of the common people a man who reeked 
of the earth until the earth closed over him and so saved the 
Union and freed a race, through ungainly Abraham Lincoln. 
Thus again Heaven laughed at exalted procedure and 

In our own day, with its blatant worldly wisdom, with 
its flaunting prosperity, with its fashionable churchliness, 
with its flood of " advanced" theology overwhelming the 
pulpit, God needed a prophet, to call his people back to 
simple faith and righteousness. A nation imperiled by 
luxury, greed, love of pleasure and unbelief cried aloud for 
a deliverer. Surely this crisis required a great man, learned 


in all the ways of the world, equipped with the best prep 
aration of American and foreign universities and theological 
seminaries, a man trained in ecclesiastical leadership, and 
approved and honored by the courts of the Church? So 
worldly wisdom decreed. But God laughed and produced, 
to the scandal of the correct and conventional, Billy Sunday, 
a common man from the common people, who, like Lincoln, 
so wears the signs and savor of the soil that fastidious folk, 
to whom sweat is vulgar and to whom calloused hands are 
"bad form," quite lose their suavity and -poise in calling 
him "unrefined." 

That he is God's tool is the first and last word about 
Billy Sunday. He is a "phenomenon" only as God is 
forever doing phenomenal things, and upsetting men's 
best-laid plans. He is simply a tool of God. For a special 
work he is the special instrument, God called, and he 
answered. All the many owlish attempts to "explain" 
Billy Sunday on psychological and sociological grounds fall 
flat when they ignore the fact that he is merely a handy 
man for the Lord's present use. 

God is still, as ever, confounding all human wisdom by 
snatching the condemned baby of a Hebrew slave out of 
Egypt's river to become a nation's deliverer; by calling a 
shepherd boy from his sheep to be Israel's greatest warrior 
and king; and by sending his only-begotten Son to earth by 
way of a manger, and training him in a workingman's home 
and a village carpenter shop. "My ways are not your ways," 
is a remark of God, which he seems fond of repeating and 

There is no other explanation of Billy Sunday needed, 
or possible, than that he is God's man sent in God's time. 
And if God chooses the weak and foolish things of earth to 
confound the mighty, is not that but another one of his 
inscrutable ways of showing that he is God? 

Why are we so confident that Billy Sunday is the Lord's 
own man, when so many learned critics have declared the 
contraiy? Simply because he has led more persons to make 


of discipleship to Jesus Christ than any 
other man lor ITcentury past. Making Christians is, from 
all angles, the greatest work in the world. Approximately 
three hundred thousand persons, in the past twenty-five 
years, have taken Sunday's hand, in token that henceforth 
their Eves belong to the Saviour. 

That amazing statement is too big to be grasped at 
once. It requires thinking over. The huge total of dry 
figures needs to be broken up into its component parts of 
living human beings. Tens of thousands of those men were 
husbands hundreds of whom had been separated from their 
wives and children by sin. Now, in reunited homes, whole 
families bless the memory of the man of God who gave them 
back husbands and fathers. Other tens of thousands were 
sons, over many of whom parents had long prayed and 
agonized. It would be hard to convince these mothers, 
whose sons have been given back to clean living and to 
Christiana service, that there is anything seriously wrong with 
Mr. Sunday's language, methods or theology. Business 
men who find that a Sunday revival means the paying up 
of the bad bills of old customers are ready to approve on 
this evidence a man whose work restores integrity in com 
mercial relations. 

Every conceivable type of humanity is included in 
that total of over a quarter of a million of converts. The 
college professor, the prosperous business man, the eminent 
politician, the farmer, the lawyer, the editor, the doctor, the 
author, the athlete, the "man about town," the criminal, 
the drunkard, the society woman, the college student, the 
workingman, the school boy and girl: the whole gamut of 
life is covered by the stream of humanity that has "hit 
the sawdust trail" a phrase which has chilled the marrow 
of every theological seioinary in the land. But the trail 
leads home to the Father's House. 

One must reach into the dictionary for big, strong words 
in characterizing the uniqueness of Billy Sunday's work. 
So I say that another aspect of his success is fairly astound- 


ing. He^above all others in our time, has broken through 
the thick TypT'br'inSMereace which separates the Church 
from the world. Church folk commonly avoid the subject 
of this great fixed gulf. We do not like to face the fact that 
the mass of mankind does not bother its head about con 
ventional religious matters. Even the majority of church 
goers are blankly uninterested in the general affairs of 
religion. Sad to tell, our bishops and board secretaries and 
distinguished preachers are really only local celebrities. 
Their names mean nothing in newspaper offices or to news 
paper readers: there are not six clergymen in the United 
States with a really national reputation. Each in his own 
circle, of locality or denomination, may be Somebody with a 
big S. But the world goes on unheeding. Great ecclesiasti 
cal movements and meetings are entirely unrecorded by the 
secular press. The Church's problem of problems is how 
to smash, or even to crack, the partition which shuts off the 
world from the Church. 

Billy Sunday has done that. He has set all sorts and 
conditions of men to talking about religion. Go to the 
lowest dive in New York's " Tenderloin " or in San Francisco's 
"Barbary Coast," and mention the name " Billy Sunday," 
and everybody will recognize it, and be ready to discuss the 
man and his message. Stand before a session of the American 
Philosophical Society and pronounce the words "Billy 
Sunday" and every one of the learned savants present will 
be able to talk about the man, even though few of them know 
who won last season's base-ball championship or who is the 
world's champion prize-fighter. 

This is a feat of first magnitude. All levels of society 
have been made aware of Billy Sunday and his gospel. 
When the evangelist went to New York for an evening 
address, early in the year 1914, the throngs were so great 
that the police were overwhelmed by the surging thousands. 
Even Mr. Sunday himself could not obtain admittance to 
tha meeting for mo^e than half an hour. Andrew Carnegie 
could not get into the hall that bears his name. Probably 


.to., hear this evangelist 
that nightjhan were gathered_in all the churches of greater 
New York combined on the preceding Sunday night. To 
turn thousands" of "persons away from his meetings is a 
coffithbn'experieiaLce of Mr. Sunday, More than ten thousand, 
n^tlyjpoen, tried myainio get into the overcrowded Scran- 
fon tabernacle at a single session. Every thoughtful man 
or'woman must be interested in the man who thus can make 
religion interesting lolhe common people. 

The~d0spair of the present-day Church is the modern 
urban center. Our generation had not seen a great city 
shaken by the gospel until Billy Sunday went to Pittsburgh. 
That he did it is the unanimous report of press and preachers 
and business men. .literally that whole city was stirred to 
its most sluggish depths by the Sunday campaign. No 
base-ball series or political campaign ever moved the com 
munity so deeply. Everywhere one went the talk was of 
Billy Sunday and his meetings. From the bell boys in the 
hotels to the millionaires in the Dusquesne Club, from the 
workmen in the mills and the girls in the stores, to the 
women in exclusive gatherings, Sunday was the staple of con 
versation. Philadelphia more than duplicated this experience. 

Day by day, all the newspapers in the city gave whole 
pages to the Sunday meetings. The sermons were reported 
entire. No other topic ever had received such full attention 
for so long a time at the hands of the press as the Sunday 
campaign. These issues of the papers were subscribed for 
by persons in all parts of the world. Men and women were 
converted who never heard the sound of the evangelist's 
voice. This series of Philadelphia meetings, more than any 
thing else in his experience, impressed the power of Sunday 
upon the metropolitan centers of the nation at large; the 
country folk had long before learned of him. 

Any tabulation of Mr. Sunday's influence must give a 
high place to the fact that he has made good press "copy": 
he has put religion on the front pages of the dailies; and has 
made it a present issue with the million. Under modern 


conditions, no man can hope to evangelize America who has 
not also access to the columns of the newspapers. Within 
the memory of living men, no other man or agency has 
brought religion so powerfully and consecutively into the 
press as William A. Sunday, whom some of his scholarly 
critics have called "illiterate." 

All of which proves the popular interest in vital, con 
temporaneous religion. Men's ears are dulled by the "shop 
talk" of the pulpit. They are weary of the worn platitudes 
of professional piety. Nobody cares for the language of 
Canaan, in which many ministers, with reverence for the 
dead past, have tried to enswathe the living truths of the 
Gospel, as if they were mummies. In the colloquial tongue of 
the common people, Jesus first proclaimed his gospel, and 
"the common people heard him gladly," although many of 
the learned and aristocratic ecclesiastics of his day were 
scandalized by his free and popular way of putting things, 
by Ms "common" stories, and by his disregard for the 
precedents of the schools. Whatever else may be said 
about Billy Sunday's much-discussed forms of speech, this 
point is clear, and denied by nobody: he makes himself 
and his message clearly understood by all classes of people. 
However much one may disagree with him, nobody fails 
to catch his meaning. He harnesses the common words of 
the street up to the chariot of divine truth. Every-day folk, 
the uncritical, unscholarly crowd of us, find no fault with 
the fact that Sunday uses the same sort of terms that we 
do. In fresh, vigorous, gripping style, he makes his message 

College ^students like him as much as do the farmers 
and mechanics. In a single day's work 'at the University 
of Pennsylvania, when thousands of students crowded his 
meetings, and gave reverent, absorbed attention to his 
message, several hundred of them openly dedicated their 
lives to Christ, and in token thereof publicly grasped his 
hand. Dr. John R. Mott, the world's greatest student 

r* J?nce said to me, in commenting upon Sunday: 


"You cannot fool a great body of students* They get a 
man's measure! If lie is genuine, they know it, and if he is 
not, they quickly find it out. Their devotion to Mr. Sunday 
is very significant." 

This j^n^who > meets jife^iL aU leyels, and proves that 
tkej^qspel message is for no one particular class, is ja dis 
tinctively American type. Somebody has said that the circus 
is the most democratic of American institutions: it brings 
all sorts and conditions of people together on a common 
plane and for a common purpose. The^ Sunday evangelistic 
meetings are more democratic than a circus. They are a 
singular exhibit of American life perhaps the most dis 
tinctive gathering to be found in our land today. His 
appeal-is to the great mass of the people. The housekeepers 
who seldom venture away from their homes, the mechanics 
who do not go to church, the "men about town" who 
profess a cynical disdain for religion, the "down and outs," 
the millionaires, the society women, the business and pro 
fessional men, the young fellows who feel "too big" to go 
to Sunday school all these, and scores of other types, 
may be found night after night in the barn-like wooden 
tabernacles which are always erected for the Sunday meet 
ings. Our common American life seems to meet and merge 
in this base-ball evangelist, who once erected tents for 
another evangelist, and now has to have special auditoriums 
built to hold his own crowds; and who has risen from a log 
cabin to a place of national power and honor. Nowhere 
else but in America could one find such an unconventional 
figure as Billy Sunday. 

Succeeding chapters will tell in some detail the story of 
the man and his work; and in most of them the man will 
speak his own messages. But for explanation of his power 
and his work it can only be said, as of old, "There was a 
man sent from God, whose name was" Billy Sunday. 

Up from the Soil 

i. If you want to drive the devil out of the world, hit hica with a cradle 
instead of a crutch, BILLY SUNDAY. 

SUNDAY must be accepted as a man of the American 
type before he can be understood. He is of the 
average, every-day American sort. He is one of the 
" folks." He has more points of resemblance to the com 
mon people than he has of difference from them. His 
mind is their mind. The keenness of the average American 
is his in an increased degree. He has the saving sense of 
humor which has marked this western people. The extrava 
gances and recklessnesses of his speech would be incredible 
to a Britisher; but we Americans understand them. They 
are of a piece with our minds. 

Like the type, Sunday is not over-fastidious. He is 
not made of a special porcelain clay, but of the same red soil 
as the rest of us. He knows the barn-yards of the farm 
better than the drawing-rooms of the rich. The normal, 
every-day Americanism of this son of the Middle West, 
whom the nation knows as "Billy Sunday, " is to be insisted 
upon if he is to be understood. 

Early apprenticed to hardship and labor, he has a 
sympathy with the life of the toiling people which mere 
imagination cannot give. His knowledge of the American 
crowd is sure and complete because he is one of them. 
He understands the life of every-day folk because that has 
always been his life. While he has obvious natural ability, 
sharpened on the grindstone of varied experience, his 
perceptions and his viewpoints are altogether those of the 
normal American. As he has seen something of life on 
many levels, and knows city ways as well as country usages, 
he has never lost his bearings as to what sort of people 


make up the bulk of this country. To them his sermons 
are addressed. Because he strikes this medium level of 
common conduct and thought, it is easy for those in all the 
ranges of American life to comprehend him. 

" Horse-sense," that fundamental American virtue, is 
Sunday's to an eminent degree. A modern American 
philosopher defines this quality of mind as "an instinctive 
something that tells us when the clock strikes twelve." 
Because he is "rich in saving common sense," Sunday 
understands the people and trusts them to understand him. 
His most earnest defenders from the beginning of his public 
life have been the rank and file of the common people. 
His critics have come from the extreme edges of society 
the scholar, or the man whose business is hurt by right 

The life of William A. Sunday covers the period of 
American history since the Civil War. He never saw his 
father7for he was bora the third son of pioneer parents on 
November 19, 1862, four months after his father had 
enlisted as a private in Company E, Twenty-third Iowa 
Infantry Volunteers. 

There is nothing remarkable to record as to the family. 
They were one with the type of the middle-western Ameri 
cans who wrested that empire from the wilderness, and 
counted poverty honorable. In those mutually helpful, 
splendidly independent days, Democracy came to its 
flower, and the American type was born. 

Real patriotism is always purchased at a high price; 
none pay more dearly for war-time loyalty than the 
women who send their husbands and sons to the front. 
Mrs. Sunday bade her husband answer the call of his 
country as only a brave woman could do, .and sent him 
forth to the service and sacrifices which soon ended in an 
unmarked grave. Four months after she had bidden fare 
well to her husband, she bade welcome to his son. To this 
third child she gave the name of her absent soldier husband. 

The mother's dreams of the returning soldier's delight 


in his namesake child were soon shattered by the tidings 
that Private William Sunday had died of disease con 
tracted in service, at Patterson, Missouri, on December 
22, 1862, a little more than a month after the birth of the 
boy who was to lift his name out of the obscurity of the 
hosts of those who gave "the last full measure of devotion" 
to their nation. 

Then the mother was called upon to take up that 
heaviest of "all burdens of patriotism the rearing of an 
orphan family in a home of dire poverty. The three chil 
dren in the Sunday home out at Ames, Iowa Roy, Edward 
and William were unwitting participants in another aspect 
of war, the lot of soldiers' orphans. For years, Mrs. Sunday, 
who at this writing is still living and rejoicing in the successes 
of her son, was able to keep her little family together under 
the roof of the two-roomed log cabin which they called home. 
In those early days their grandfather, Squire Corey, was 
of unmeasured help in providing for and training the three 
orphan boys. 

Experience is a school teacher who carries a rod, as 
Sunday could well testify. He learned life's fundamental 
lessons in the school of poverty and toil. To the part which 
his mother played in shaping Ms life and ideals he has borne 
eloquent tribute on many platforms. When the youngest 
son was twelve years old, he and his older brother were sent 
off to the Soldiers' Orphanage at Glenwood, Iowa. Later 
they were transferred to the Davenport Orphanage, which 
they left in June of 1876, making two years spent in the 
orphanages./ Concerning this experience Sunday himself 

"I was bred and born (not in old Kentucky, although 
my grandfather was a Kentuckian), but in old Iowa. I 
am a rube of the rubes. I am a hayseed of the hayseeds, and 
the malodors of the barnyard are on me yet, and it beats 
Pinaud and Colgate, too. I have greased my hair with 
goose grease and blacked my boots with stove blacking. 
I have wiped my old proboscis with a gunny-sack towel; 


I have drunk coffee out of my saucer, and I have eaten with 
my knife; I have said 'done it/ when I should have said 
'did it/ and I 'have saw' when I should 'have seen/ and I 
expect to go to heaven just the same. I have crept and 
crawled out from the university of poverty and hard knocks, 
and have taken postgraduate courses. 

"My father went to the war four months before I was 
born, in Company E, Twenty-third Iowa. I have Abutted 
and fought and struggled since I was six years old. That's 
one reason why I wear that little red, white and blue button. 
I know all about the dark and seamy side of life, and if 
ever a man fought hard, I have fought hard for everything 
I have ever gained. 

"The wolf scratched at the cabin door and finally 
mother said: 'Boys, I am going to send you to the Soldiers' 
Orphans' Home.' At Ames, Iowa, we had to wait for the 
train, and we went to a little hotel, and they came about 
one o'clock and said: 'Get ready for the train/ 

"I looked into mother's face. Her eyes were red, her 
hair was disheveled. I said: 'What's the matter, mother?' 
All the time Ed and I slept mother had been praying. We 
went to the train; she put one arm about me and the other 
about Ed and sobbed as if her heart would break. People 
walked by and looked at us, but they didn't say a word. 

"Why? They didn't know, and if they had they 
wouldn't have cared. Mother knew; she knew that for 
years she wouldn't see her boys. We got into the train 
and said, 'Good-bye, mother,' as the train pulled out. We 
reached Council Bluffs. It was cold and we turned up our 
coats and shivered. We saw the hotel and went up and asked 
the woman for something to eat. She said: 'What's your 

'"My name is William Sunday, and this is my brother 

"'Where are you going?' 

'"Going to the Soldiers' Orphans' Home at Glenwood.' 

"She wiped her tears and said: 'My husband was a 



soldier and he never came back. He wouldn't turn any 
one away and I wouldn't turn you boys away/ She drew 
her arms about us and said: 'Come on in.' She gave us 
our breakfast and our dinner, too. There wasn't any train 
going out on the 'Q' until afternoon. We saw a freight 
train standing there, so we climbed into the caboose. 

"The conductor came along and said: 'Where's your 

money or ticket?' 
"'Ain't got 

"Til have to 
put you off/ 

"We com 
menced to cry. 
My brother handed 
him a letter of in 
troduction to the 
superintendent of 
the orphans 7 home. 
The conductor read 
it, and handed it 
back as the tears 
rolled down his 
cheeks. Then he 
said: 'Just sit 
still, boys. It won't cost a cent to ride on my train/ 

"It's only twenty miles from Council Bluffs to Glen- 
wood, and as we rounded the curve the conductor said' 
'There it is on the TiiU/ 

"I want to say to you that one of the brightest pictures 
that hangs upon the walls of my memory is the recollection 
of the days when as a little boy, out in the log cabin on the 
frontier of Iowa, I knelt by mother's side. 

"I went back to the old farm some years ago. The 
scenes had changed about the place. Faces I had known 
and loved had long since turned to dust. Fingers that used 
to turn the pages of the Bible were 'obliterated and the old 



trees beneath which we boys used to play and swing Lad been 
felled by the woodman's axe. I stood and thought. The 
man became a child again and the long weary nights of sin 
and of hardships became as though they never had been. 
"Once more with my gun on my shoulder and my favor 
ite dog trailing at my heels I walked through the pathless 
Wood and sat on the old familiar logs and stumps, and as I 
sat and listened to the wild, weird harmonies of nature, 
a vision of the past opened. The squirrel from the limb of 
the tree barked defiantly and I threw myself into an interro 
gation point, and when the gun cracked, the squirrel fell 
at my feet. I grabbed "hiim, and ran home to throw him down 
and receive compliments for my skill as a marksman. And 
I saw the tapestry of the evening fall. I heard the lowing 
herds and saw them wind slowly o'er the lea and I listened 
to the tinkling bells that lulled the distant fowl. Once more 
I heard the shouts of childish glee. Once more I climbed 
the haystack for the hen's eggs. Once more we crossed the 
threshold and sat at our frugal meal. Once more mother 
drew the trundle bed out from under the larger one, and we 
boys, kneeling down, shut our eyes and clasping our little 
hands, said: 'Now I lay -me down to sleep; I pray the 
Lord, my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I 
pray thee, Lord, my soul to take. And this I ask for Jesus' 
sake, Amen/ 

" 'Backward, turn backward, time in thy flight, 
Make me a child again, just for tonight, 
Mother, come back from that echoless shore, 
Take me again to your heart as of yore. 
Into the old cradle I'm longing to creep, 
Eock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep/ 

11 1 stood beneath the old oak tree and it seemed to carry 
on a conversation with me. It seemed to say: 
"'Hello Bill. Is that your 
" Tes, it's I, old tree/ 
" 'Well, you've got a bald spot on the top of your head. 


" 'Yes, I know, old tree/ 

" 'Won't vou climb up and sit on my limbs as you 
used to?' 

" 'No, I haven't got time now. I'd like to, though, 
awfully well.' 

" 'Don't go, Bill. Don't you remember the old swing 
you made?' 

" 'Yes, I remember; but I've got to go/ 

" 'Say Bill, don't you remember when you tried to play 
George Washington and the cherry tree and almost cut me 
down? That's the scar you made, but it's almost covered 
over now.' 

" 'Yes, I remember all, but I haven't time to stay.' 

" 'Are you comin' back, Bill?' 

" 'I don't know, but I'll never forget you.' 

"Then the old apple tree seemed to call me and I said: 
'I haven't time to wait, old apple tree.' 

I want to go back to the orchard, 

The orchard that used to be mine, 
The apples are reddening and filling 

The air with their wine. 
I want to run on through the pasture 

And let down the dusty old bars, 
I want to find you there still waiting, 

Your eyes like the twin stars. 
Oh, nights, you are weary and dreary, 

And days, there is something you lack; 
To the farm in the valley, 

I want to go back.' 

"I tell it to you with shame, I stretched the elastic 
bands of my mother's love until I thought they would break. 
I went far into the dark and the wrong until I ceased to 
hear her prayers or her pleadings. I forgot her face, and 
I went so far that it seemed to me that one more step and the 
elastic bands of her love would break and I would be lost. 
But, thank God, friends, I never took that last step. , Littte 
by little I yielded to the tender memories and recollections 


of my mother; little by little I was drawn away from the 
yawning abyss, and twenty-seven years ago, one dark and 
stormy night in Chicago, I groped my way out of darkness 
into the arms of Jesus Christ and I fell on my knees and 
cried 'God be merciful to me a sinner!' " 

Of formal education the boy Sunday had but little. 
He went to school intermittently, like most of his playmates, 
but he did get into the high school, although he was never 
graduated. Early in life he began to work for his living, 
even before he went off to the Soldiers' Orphanage. Con 
cerning these periods of early toil he himself has spoken as 

"When I was about fourteen years old, I made appli 
cation for the position of janitor in a school. 

"I used to get up at two o'clock, and there were four 
teen stoves and coal had to be carried for all them. I had 
to keep the fire up and keep up my studies and sweep the 
floors. I got twenty-five dollars a month salary. Well, 
one day I got a check for my salary and I went right down 
to the bank to get it cashed. Right in front of me was 
another fellow with a check to be cashed, and he shoved his 
in, and I came along and shoved my check in, and he handed 
me out forty dollars. My check called for twenty-five 
dollars. I called on a friend of mine who was a lawyer in 
Kansas City and told him. I said: ' Frank, what do you 
think, Jay King handed me forty dollars and my check only 
called for twenty-five dollars/ He said, 'Bill, if I had your 
luck, I would buy a lottery ticket/ But I said, 'The 
fifteen dollars is not mine/ He said, 'Don't be a chump. 
If you were shy ten dollars and you went back you would 
not get it, and if they hand out fifteen dollars, don't be a 
fool, keep it/ 

"Well, he had some drag with me and influenced me, 
I was fool enough to keep it, and I took it and bought a suit 
of clothes. I can see that suit now; it was a kind of brown, 
with a little green in it and I thought I was the goods, I 
want to tell you, when I got those store clothes on* That 


was the first suit of store clothes I had ever had, and I 
bought that suit and I had twenty-five dollars left after 
I did it. 

"Years afterwards I said, 'I ought to be a Christian/ 
and I got on- my knees to pray, and the Lord seemed to touch 
me on the back and say, 'Bill, you owe that Farmers' Bank 
fifteen dollars with interest/ and I said, 'Lord, the bank 
don't know that I got that fifteen dollars/, and the Lord 
said 'I know it'; so I struggled along for years, probably 
like some of you, trying to be decent and honest and right 
some wrong that was in my life, and every time I got down 
to pray the Lord would say, ' Fifteen dollars with interest, 
Nevada County, Iowa; fifteen dollars, Bill/ So years 
afterwards I sent that money back, enclosed a check, wrote 
a letter and acknowledged it, and I have the peace of God 
from that day to this, and I have never swindled anyone 
out of a dollar." 

There are other kinds of education besides those which 
award students a skeepskin at the end of a stated term* 
Sunday has no sheepskin neither has he the sheep quality 
which marks the machine-made product of any form of 
training. His school has been a diversity of work, where 
he came face to face with the actualities of life. He early 
had Jo,.bj| t .for, himself. He learned the priceless lesson of 
how to work, regardless of what the particular task might 
be, whether it was scrubbing floors (and he was an expert 
scrubber of floors!), or preaching a sermon to twenty thou 
sand persons. He had a long hard drill in working under 
authority: that is why he is able to exercise authority like 
a major-general. Because personally he has experienced, 
with all of the sensitiveness of an American small boy, the 
bitter injustice of over-wprk and under-pay under an oppres 
sive task-master, he is a voice for the toilers of the world. In 
this same diversified school of industry he learned the lesson 
of thoroughness which is now echoed by every spike in his 
tabernacle aad every gesture in bis sermons. Such a one 
as he could not have come from a conventional educational 


course. It needed this hard school to make such a hardy 

It was while a youth in Marshalltown, Iowa, playing 
base ball on the lots, that Sunday came to his own. Captain 
A. C. Anson, the famous leader of the Chicago "White 
Sox/ 7 chanced to see the youth of twenty, whose phenomenal 
base-running had made Mm a local celebrity. It is no new 
experience for Sunday to be a center of public interest. 
He has known this since boyhood. The local base-ball 
"hero" is as big a figure in the eyes of his own particular 
circle as ever a great evangelist gets to be in the view of 
the world. Because his ears early became accustomed to 
the huzzahs of the crowd, Sunday's head has not been turned 
by much of the foolish adulation which has been his since 
he became an evangelist. 

A level head, a quick eye, and a body which is such a 
finely trained instrument that it can meet all drafts upon 
it, is part of Sunday's inheritance from Ms life on the base 
ball diamond. 

Most successful base-ball players enter the major 
leagues by a succession of steps. With Sunday it was quite 
otherwise. Because he fell under the personal eye of "Pop" 
Anson he was borne directly from the fields of Marshall- 
town, Iowa, to the great park of the Chicago team. That 
was in 1883, when Sunday was not yet twenty-one years of 
age. His mind was still formative a quality it retains to this 
cloy an( j foig entrance into the larger field of base ball 
trained him to think in broad terms. It widened his hori 
zon and made him reasonably indifferent to the comments 
of the crowds. 

A better equipment for the work he is doing could not 
have been found; for above all else Sunday "plays ball." 
While others discuss methods and bewail conditions he keeps 
the game going. Such a volume of criticism as no other 
evangelist, within the memory of living men, has ever 
received, has fallen harmless from his head, because he has 
not turned aside to argue with the umpire, but has "played 


There is no call for tears or heroics over the early 
experiences of Sunday. His life was normal; no different 
from that of tens of thousands of other American boys. He 
himself was in no wise a phenomenon. He was possessed of 
no special abilities or inclinations. He canie to Ms preaching 
gift only after years of experience in Christian work. It is 
clear that a Divine Providence utilized the very ordinariness 
of Ms life and training to Mm an ambassador to the 

common people* 

A Base-Ball "Star" 

Don't get chesty over success. BILLY STJOTAY. 

SOMETIMES the preacher tells Ms people what a great 
journalist he might have been, or what a successful 
business man, had he not entered the ministry; but 
usually his hearers never would have suspected it if he had 
not told them. Billy Sunday's eminence as a base-ball 
player is not a shadow cast backward from his present pre 
eminence. His success as a preacher has gained luster from 
his distinction a$ a base-ball player, while his fame as a base 
ball player has been kept alive by his work as an evangelist, 

jyjLthejwprld of basej^all enthusiasts, a generation ago, 
knew Billy Sunday, the speediest base-runner and the most 
daring base-stealer in the whole fraternity. Wherever he 
goes today veteran devotees of the national game recall 
times they saw him play; and sporting periodicals and 
sporting pages of newspapers have been filled with remi 
niscences from base-ball "fans," of the triumphs of the 
evangelist on the diamond. 

A side light on the reality of his religion while engaged 
in professional base ball is thrown by the fact that sporting 
writers always speak of Mm with pride and loyalty, and his 
old base-ball associates who still survive, go frequently to 
hear him preach. The base-ball world thinks that he reflects 
distinction on the game. 

Now base ball in Marshalltown and base ball in Chicago 
had not exactly the same standards. The recruit had to be 
drilled. He struck out the first thirteen times he went to 
bat. He never became a superior batter, but he could 
always throw straight and hard. At first he was inclined 
to take too many chances and his judgment was ratheu 
unsafe. One base-ball writer has said that "Sunday 

3 (33) 


probably caused more wide throws than any other player 
the game has ever known, because of his specialty of going 
down to first like a streak of greased electricity. When he 
hit the ball infielders yelled 'hurry it up.' The result was 
that they often threw them away." He was the^acknowl- 
edged champion sprinter of the National League. This once 
led to a match race with Arlie Latham, who held like honors 
in the American League. Sunday won by fifteen feet. 

Sunday was the sort of figure the bleachers liked. He 
was always eager sometimes too eager to"take a chance." 
What was a one-base hit for another man was usually good 

for two bases for 
him. His slides and 
stolen bases were 
adventures beloved 
of the "fans" the 
spice of the game. 
He also was apt in 
} retort to the com 
ments from the 
bleachers, but al 
ways good-natured. 
The crowds liked 
him, even as did his 
team mates. 

bunday was a man's man, and so continues to this day. 
His tabernacle audiences resemble base-ball crowds in the 
proportion of men present, more nearly than any other 
meetings of a religious nature that are regularly being held 
bunday spent five years on the old Chicago team, mostly 
playing right or center field. He was the first man in the 
gstory pf base ball to circle the bases in fourteen seconds. 
Me could run a hundred yards from a standing start in ten 
seconds fiat. Speed had always been his one distinction 
As a lad of thirteen, in the Fourth of July games at Ames 
he won a prize of three dollars in a foot-race, a feat 
wtiich he recalls with pleasure 



Speed is a phase of base ball that, being clear to all 
eyes, appeals to the bleachers. So it came about that 
Sunday was soon a base-ball "hero," analogous to "Ty" 
Cobb or "Home-Run 77 Baker, or Christy Mathewson of 
our own day. He himself tells the story of one famous 
play, on the day after his conversion: 

"That afternoon we played the old Detroit club. We 
were neck and neck for the championship. That club had 
Thompson, Richardson, Rowe, Dunlap y Hanlon and Bennett, 
and they could play ball. 

"I was playing right field. Mike Kelly was catching 
and John G. Clarkson was pitching. He was as fine a 
pitcher as ever crawled into a uniform. There are some 
pitchers today, O'Toole, Bender, Wood, Mathewson, John 
son, Marquard, but I do not believe any one of them stood 
in the class with Clarkson. 

"Cigarettes put him on the bum. When he'd taken a 
bath the water would be stained with nicotine. 

"We had two men out and they had a man on second 
and one on third and Bennett, their old catcher, was at bat. 
Charley had three balls and two strikes on him. Charley 
couldn't hit a high ball: but he could kill them when they 
went about his knee. 

"I hollered to Clarkson and said: 'One more and we 
got ? em. J 

"You know every pitcher puts a hole in the ground 
where he puts his foot when he is pitching. John stuck his 
foot in the hole and he went clean to the ground. Oh, he 
could make ? em dance. He could throw overhanded, and 
the ball would go down and up like that. He is the only 
man on earth I have seen do that. That ball would go by 
so fast that the batter could feel the thermometer drop two 
degrees as she whizzed by. John went clean down, and as 
he went to throw the ball his right foot slipped and the ball 
went low instead of high. 

"I saw Charley swing hard and heard the bat hit the 
ball with a terrific boom. Bennett had smashed the ball 


on the nose, I saw the ball rise in the air and knew that it 
was going clear over my head. 

"I could judge within ten feet of where the ball would 
light, I turned my back to the ball and ran, 

"The field was crowded with people and I yelled, 
Stand back! 9 and that crowd opened as the Red Sea 
opened for the rod of Moses. I ran on, and as I ran I made 
a prayer; it wasn't theological, either, I tell you that. I 
said, 'God, if you ever helped mortal man, help me to get 
that ball, and you haven't very much time to make up 
your mind, either/ I ran and jumped over the bench and 

"I thought I was close enough to catch it. I looked 
back and saw it was going over my head and I jumped and 
shoved out my left hand and the ball hit it and stuck. At 
the rate I was going the momentum carried me on and I 
fell under the feet of a team of horses. I jumped up with the 
ball in my hand. Up came Tom Johnson. Tom used to 
be mayor of Cleveland. He's dead now. 

"'Here is $10, Bill. Buy yourself the best hat in 
Chicago. That catch won me $1,500. Tomorrow go and 
buy yourself the best suit of clothes you can find in Chicago. y 

"An old Methodist minister said to me a few years 
ago, 'Why, William, you didn't take the $10, did you?' 
I said, 'You bet your life I did/ " 

After his five years with the Chicago base-ball team, 
Sunday played upon the Pittsburgh and the Philadelphia 
teams, his prestige so growing with the years that after he 
had been eight years in base ball, he declined a contract 
at five hundred dollars a month, in order to enter Christian 

For most of his base-ball career Sunday was an out- 
and-out Christian. Be had been converted in 1887, after 
four years of membership on the Chicago team. He had 
worked at his religion; his team mates knew his Christianity 
for the real thing. On Sundays, because of Ms eminence as 
a base-ball player, he was in great demand for Z M. C. A, 

Copyright by Goodwin & Co,, N. F 


talks. - The sporting papers all alluded frequently to his 
religious interests and activities. Because of his Christian 
scruples he refused to play base ball on Sunday. During 
the four years of his experience as a Christian member of 
the base-ball profession it might have been clear to anybody 
who cared to study the situation carefully that the young 
man's interest in religion was steadily deepening and that 
he was headed toward some form of avowedly Christian 

"I had a three-year contract with Philadelphia. I 
said to God, 'Now if you want me to quit playing ball and 
'go into evangelistic work, then you get me my release/ 
and so I left it with God to get my release before the 25th 
day of March and would take that as an evidence that 
.he wanted me to quit playing ball. 

"On the 17th day of March, St. Patrick's day I shall 
never forget it I was leading a meeting and received a 
letter from Colonel Rogers, president of the Philadelphia 
club, stating I could have my release. 

"In came Jim Hart, of the Cincinnati team, and up on 
the platform and pulled out a contract for $3,500. A 
player only, plays seven months, and he threw the check 
down for $500, the first month's salary in advance. He 
said, 'Bill, sign up!' But I said, 'No!' I told Mm that I 
told God if he wanted me to quit playing ball to get my 
release before the 25th day of March and I would quit. 

" There I was up against it. I went around to some of 
my friends and some said, 'Take it!' Others said, 'Stick 
to your promise.' I asked my father-in-law about it, and 
he said, 'You are a blank fool if you don't take it.' I went 
home and went to bed, but could not sleep, and' prayed that 
night until five o'clock, when I seemed to get the thing 
straight and said, 'No, sir, I will not do it.' 

"I went to work for the Y. M. C. A. and had a very 
hard time of it. It was during those hard times that I 
hardly had enough to pay my house rent, but I stuck to 
my promise*" 


It was in March of 1891 that Sunday made the decision 
which marked the parting of the ways for him.' He- aban 
doned base ball forever as a profession, although not as an 
interest, and entered upon definite religious work. He 
accepted a position in the Chicago Y, M. C. A. as a subordi 
nate secretary at $83.33 per month and sometimes this 
was six months overdue. 

The stuff of which the young man's moral character 
was made is revealed by the fact that he deliberately rejected 
a $500-a-month base-ball contract in order to serve Christ 
at a personal sacrifice. This incident reveals the real 
temper of Sunday, and is to be borne in inind when discus 
sion is raised concerning the large offerings which are made 
to him now in his successful evangelistic work. That act 
was not the deed of a money-loving man. If it does not 
spell consecration, it is difficult to define what it does mean. 

Doubtless there were many who thought this ending 
of a conspicuous base-ball career an anti-climax, even as 
the flight of Moses into the wilderness of Sinai apparently 
spelled defeat. Out of such defeats and sacrifices as these 
grow the victories that best serve the world and most honor 

A Curbstone Recruit 

YouVe got to sign your own Declaration of Independence before you can 
celebrate your Fourth of July victory. BILLY SUNDAY. 

NOBODY this side of heaven can tell to whom the 
credit belongs for any great life or great work. 
But we may be reasonably sure that the unsung 
and unknown women of the earth have a large part in every 
achievement worth while. 

Mrs. Clark, saintly wife of Colonel Clark, the devoted 
founder of the Pacific Garden Rescue Mission in Chicago, is 
one of that host of women who, like the few who followed 
Jesus in his earthly ministry, have served in lowly, incon 
spicuous ways, doing small tasks from a great love. Night 
after night, with a consecration which never flagged, she 
labored in the gospel for a motley crowd of men and 
women, mostly society's flotsam and jetsam, many of 
whom found this hospitable building the last fort this side 
of destruction. 

A single visit to a ^own-town rescue mission is romantic, 
picturesque and somewhat of an adventure a sort of 
sanctified slumming trip. Far different is it to spend night 
after night, regardless of weather or personal feelings, in 
coming to close grips with sin-sodden men and women, 
many of them the deviPs refuse. A sickening share of the 
number are merely seeking shelter or lodging or food: sin's 
wages are not sufficient to live upon, and they turn to the 
mercy of Christianity for succor. Never to be cast down by 
unworthiness or ingratitude, to keep a heart of hope in 
face of successive failures, and to rejoice with a shepherd's 
joy over the one rescued this is the spirit of the consecrated 
rescue-mission worker. 

Such a woman was Mrs. Clark; the spiritual mother to a 



multitude of redeemed men. Of all the trophies which she 
has laid at the feet of her Lord, the redemption of Billy 
Sunday seems- to human eyes the brightest. For it was this 
woman who persuaded him to accept Christ as his Saviour:' 
he whose hand has led perhaps a quarter of a million persons 
to the loot of the Cross was himself led thither by this saintly 

When we contemplate the relation of that one humble 
rescue mission in Chicago, the monument of a business 
man's consecration to Christ, to the scores of Sunday Taber 
nacles over the land; and when we connect the streams of 
penitents on the " sawdust trail" with that one young man 
of twenty-five going forward up the aisle of the rude mission 
room, we realize afresh that God uses many workers to 
carry on his one work; and that though Paul may plant and 
Apollos water, it is God alone who giveth the increase. 

It was one evening in the fall of 1887 that Sunday, with 
five of his base-ball team mates, sat on the curbstone of 
Van Buren Street and listened to the music and testimonies 
of a band of workers from the Pacific Garden Rescue 
Mission. The deeps of sentiment inherited from a Christian 
mother, and the memories of a Christian home, were stirred 
in the breast of one of the men; and Sunday accepted the 
invitation of a worker to visit the mission. Moved by the 
vital testimonies which he heard, he went again and again; 
and at length, after conversation and prayer with Mrs. 
Clark, he made the great decision which committed him to 
the Christian life. 

Sunday's own story of his conversion is one of the most 
thrilling of all the evangelist's messages. It is a human 
document, a leaf in that great book of Christian evidences 
which God is still writing day by day. 

" Twenty-seven years ago I walked down a street in 
Chicago in company with some ball players who were famous 
in this world some of them are dead now and we went 
into a saloon. It was Sunday afternoon and we got tanked 
up and then went and sat down on a corner. I never go by 


that street without thanking God for saving me. , It wafe a 
vacant lot at that time. We sat down on a curbing. Across 
the street a company -of men and women were 'playing on' 
instruments horns, flutes and slide trombones and the 
others were singing the gospel hymns that -I used to hear 
my mother sing back in the log cabin in Iowa and back in 
the old church where I used to go to Sunday school. ' 

"And God painted on the canvas of my recollection 
and memory a vivid picture of the scenes of other days and 
other faces. 

"Many have long since turned to dust. I sobbed and 
sobbed and a young man stepped out and said, 'We are 
going down- to the Pacific Garden Mission. Won't you come 
down to the mission? I am sure you will enjoy it. You 
can hear drunkards tell how they have been saved and girls 
tell how they have been saved from the red-light district.' 

"I arose a'nd said to the boys, ' I'm through. I am going 
to Jesus Christ. We've come to the parting of the ways/ 
and I turned my back on them. Some of them laughed and 
some of them mocked me; one of them gave me encourage 
ment; others never said a word. 

6 Twenty-seven years ago I turned and left that little 
group on the corner of State and Madison Streets and walked 
to the little mission and fell on my knees and staggered out 
of sin and into the arms of the Saviour. 

"The next day I had to get out to the ball park and 
practice. Every morning at ten o'clock we had to be out 
there. I never slept that night. I was afraid of the horse 
laugh that gang would give me because I had taken my stand 
for- Jesus Christ. 

"I walked down to the old ball grounds. I will never 
forget it. I slipped my key into the wicket gate and the 
first man to meet me after I got inside was Mike Kelly. 

"'Up came Mike Kelly; he said, 'Bill, I'm proud of 
you! Religion is not my long suit, but I'll help you all I 
can.' Up came Anson, the best ball player that ever played 
the game; Pfeffer, Clarkson, Flint, Jimmy McCormick, 



Burns, Williamson and Dalrymple. There wasn't a fellow 
in that gang who knocked; every fellow had a word of 
encouragement for me. 

"Mike Kelly was sold to Boston for $10,000. Mike got 
half of the purchase price. He came up to me and showed 
me a check for $5,000. John L. Sullivan, the champion 
fighter, went around with a subscription paper and the boys 
raised over $12,000 to buy Mike a house. 

"They gave Mike a deed to the house and they had 
$1,500 left and gave him a certificate of deposit for that. 

"His salary for 
playing with Boston 
was $4,700 a year* 
At the end of that 
season Mike had 
spent the $5,000 pur 
chase price and the 
$4,700 he received 
as salary and the 
$1,500 they gave 
him and had a 
mortgage on the 
house. And when 
he died in Pennsyl 
vania they went 

around with a subscription to get money enough to put 
him in the ground, and each club, twelve in all, in the two 
leagues gave a month a year to his wife. Mike sat here 
on the corner with me twenty-seven years ago, when I said, 
i Good-bye, boys, I'm going to Jesus Christ/ 

"A. G. Spalding signed up a team to go around the 
world. I was the second he asked to sign a contract and 
Captain Anson was the first. I was sliding to second base 
one day. I always slid head first, and hit a stone and cut 
a ligament loose in my knee. 

"I got Dr. Magruder, who attended Garfield when he 
was shot, and he said: 



" 'William, if you don't go on that trip I will give you 
a good leg.' I obeyed and have as good a leg today as I 
ever had. They offered to wait for me at Honolulu and 
Australia. Spalding said, 'Meet us in England, and play 
with us through England, Scotland and Wales.' I didn't go. 

"Ed Williamson, our old short-stop, a fellow weighing 
225 pounds, was the most active big man you ever saw. 
He went with them, and while they were on the ship crossing 
the English channel a storm arose and the captain thought 
the ship would go down. Williamson tied two life-preservers 
on himself and one on his wife and dropped on his knees 
and prayed and promised God to be true. God spoke and 
the waves were stilled. They came back to the United 
States and Ed came back to Chicago and started a saloon 
on Dearborn Street. I would go through there giving 
tickets for the Y. M. C. A. meetings and would talk with 
them and he would cry like a baby, 

"I would get down and pray for him, and would talk 
with him. When he died they put him on the table and 
cut him open and took out his liver and it was so big it would 
not go in a candy bucket. Kidneys had shriveled until 
they were like two stones. 

"Ed Williamson sat there on the street comer with me, 
drunk, twenty-seven years ago when I said, { Good-bye, I'm 
going to Jesus Christ.' 

" Frank Flint, our old catcher, who caught for nineteen 
years, drew $3,200 a year on an average. He caught before 
they had chest protectors, masks and gloves. He caught 
bare-handed. Every bone in the ball of his hand was broken. 
You never saw such a hand as Frank had. Every bone in 
his face was broken, and his nose and cheek bones, and the 
shoulder and ribs had all been broken. He got to drinking, 
his home was broken up and he went to the dogs. 

"I've seen old Frank Flint sleeping on a table in a 
stale beer joint and I've turned my pockets inside out and 
said, * You're welcome to it, old pal.' He drank on and on, 
and one day in winter he staggered out of a stale beer joint 


and stood on a corner, and was seized with a fit of coughing. 
The blood streamed out of his nose, mouth and eyes. Down 
the street came a wealthy woman. She took one look and 
said, 'My God, is it you, Frank?' and his wife came up and 
kissed him. 

"She called two policemen and a cab and started with 
him to her boarding house. They broke all speed regula 
tions. She called five of the best physicians and they 
listened to the beating of his heart, one, two, three, four, 
five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, and the 
doctors said, 'He will be dead in about four hours/ She 
told them to tell him what they had told her. She said, 
' Frank, the end is near/ and he said, 'Send for Bill. ' 

"They telephoned me and I came. He said, 'There's 
nothing in the life of years ago I care for now. I can hear 
the bleachers cheer when I make a hit that wins the game. 
But there is nothing that can help me out now; and if the 
umpire calls me out now, won't you say a few words over me, 
Bill?' He struggled as he had years ago on the diamond, 
when he tried to reach home, but the great Umpire of the 
universe yelled, 'You're out!' and waved him to the club 
house, and the great gladiator of the diamond was no more. 

"He sat on the street comer with' me, drunk, twenty- 
seven years ago in Chicago, when I said, 'Good-bye, boys, 
I'm through.' 

"Did they win the game of life or did Bill?" 




Playing the New Game 

It is not necessary to be in a big place to do big things. 

IF Billy Sunday had not been an athlete he would not 
today be the physical marvel in the pulpit that he is; 
if he had not been reared in the ranks of the plain people 
he would not have possessed the vocabulary and insight into 
life which are essential parts of his equipment; if he had 
not served a long apprenticeship to toil he would not display 
Ms present pitiless industry; if he had not been a cog in the 
machinery of organized base ball, with wide travel and much 
experience of men, he would not be able to perfect the amaz 
ing organization of Sunday evangelistic campaigns; if he 
had not been a member and elder of a Presbyterian church 
he could not have resisted the religious vagaries which lead 
so many evangelists and immature Christian workers 1 astray; 
if he had not been trained in three years of Y. M. C. A. 
service he would not today be the flaming and insistent 
protagonist of personal wo^k that he now is; if he had not 
been converted definitely and consciously and quickly in 
a rescue mission he could not now preach his gospeJTV. 
immediate conversion. 

All of which is but another way of saying that Sunaay 
was trained in God's school. God prepared the man for 
the work he was preparing for him. Only by such uncommon 
training could this unique messenger of the gospel be pro 
duced. A college course doubtless would have submerged 
Sunday into the level of the commonplace* A theological 
seminary would have denatured him. Evidently Sunday 
has learned the lesson of the value of individuality; he prizes 
it, preaches about it, and practices it. He probably does not 
know what "sui generis" means, but he is it. Over and 
over again he urges that instead of railing at what we have 



not enjoyed, we should magnify what we already possess. 
The shepherd's rod of Moses, rightly wielded, may be might 
ier than a king's scepter. 

As we approach the development of the unique work of 
Billy Sunday, which is without a parallel in the history of 
evangelism, we must reckon 1 ' with those forces which 
developed his personality and trace the steps which led him 
into his present imperial activity* * For he has gone forward 
a step at a time. 

He followed the wise rule of the rescue mission, that 
the 'saved should say so. At the very beginning he began 
to bear testimony to Ms new faith. Wherever opportunity 
offered he spoke a good word for Jesus Christ. In many 
towns, and cities Ms testimony was heard in those early 
days; 'arid" there was not a follower of the base-ball game who 
did,, not know that Billy Sunday was a Christian, 

The convert who does not join a church is likely soon 
to be in a bad way; so Sunday early united with the Jefferson 
Park Presbyterian Church, Chicago. He went into reli 
gious activity with all the ardor that he displayed on the 
base-bijll field. He attended the Christian Endeavor 
society,; prayer-meeting and the 'mid-week church service. 
This Js significant; for. it is usually the church members who 
are /aithful at the mid-week prayer-meetings who are the 

force in a congregation. 

Other rewards than spiritual /awaited Sunday at the 
yer-meeting; for there he met Helen A. Thompson, the 
young' woman who subsequently became his wife. Between 
the meeting" and the marriage altar there were various 
obstacles to be overcome. Another suitor, was in the way, 
and besides, Miss Thompson's father did 'not take Mndly 
to the idea of a professional base-ball player as a possible 
son-in-law, for he had old-fasMoned Scotch notions of things. 
"Love conquers all/' and in September, 1888, the young 
couple were married, taking their wedding trip by going 
on circuit with the base-ball team. 

Mrs, Sunday's influence upon her husband has been 


extraordinary. It is a factor to be largely considered in 
any estimate .of the man. He is a devoted husband, of the 
American type, and with his ardent loyalty to his wife has 
complete confidence in her judgment. She is his man of 
affairs. Her Scotch heritage has endowed her with the 
prudent qualities of that race, and she is the business man 
ager of Mr. Sunday's campaigns. She it is who holds her 
generous, careless husband down to a realization of the 
practicalities of. life. 

He makes no important decisions without consulting 
her, and she travels with him nearly all of the time, attend 
ing his meetings and watching over his work and Ms personal 
well-being like a mother. In addition Mrs. Sunday does 
yeoman service in the evangelistic campaigns. 

The helplessness of the evangelist without his wife 
is almost ludicrous: he dislikes to settle any question, 
whether it be an acceptance of an invitation from a city or 
the employment of an additional worker, without Mrs. 
Sunday's counsel Frequently he turns vexed problems 
over to her, and abides implicitly by her decision,, without 
looking into the matter himself at all ' 

Four children Helen, -George, William and Paul- 
have been born to the Sundays, two of whom are themselves 
married. The modest Sunday home is "in Winona Lake, 
Indiana^ When Mrs. Sunday is absent with her 'husband, 
the two younger children are left in the care of a trusted 
helper. The evangelist himself is home for only a short 
period each summer. 

Mrs. Sunday was the deciding factor in determining 
her husband to abandon base ball for distinctively religious 
work. A woman of real Scotch piety, in the time of decision 
she chose the better part. Her husband had been address 
ing Y. M. C. A. meetings, Sunday-schools and Christian 
Endeavor societies. He was undeniably a poor speaker. 
No prophet could have foreseen the present master of plat 
form art in the stammering, stumbling young man whose 
only excuse for addressing public meetings was the eagerness 


of men to hear the celebrated base-ball player's story. His 
speech was merely his testimony, such as is required of all 
mission converts. 

If Sunday could not talk well on his feet he could handle 
individual men. His aptness in dealing with men led the 
Chicago Young Men's Christian Association to offer him 
an assistant secretaryship in the department of religious 
work. It is significant that the base-ball jplayer went into 
the Y. M. CT.~A". not as a physical director "but in the distinc 
tively spiritual sphere. He refused an invitation to become 
physical director;, for Ms religious zeal from the first out 
shone his physical prowess. 

Those three years of work in the Chicago Association 
bulk large in the development of the evangelist. They 
were not all spent in dealing -with the unconverted, by 
any -means. Sunday's tasks included the securing of 
speakers for noon-day prayer-meetings, the conducting of 
office routine, the raising of money, the distribution of 
literature, the visiting of saloons and other places to which 
invitations should be carried, and the following up of per 
sons who had displayed an interest in the meetings. Much 
of it was sanctified drudgery : but it was all drill for destiny. 
The ^ young man saw at close range and with particular 
detail what sin could do to men; and he also learned the 
power of the Gospel to make sinners over. 

The evangelist often alludes to those days of personal 
work in Chicago. Such stories as the following have been 
heard by thousands. 

A Father Disowned 

9 "While I was in the Y. M. C. A. in Chicago I was stand 
ing on the corner one night and a man came along with his 
toes sticking out and a ragged suit on and a slouch hat and 
asked me for a dime to get something to eat. I told him I 
wouldn't give him a dime because he would go and get a 

T fe i- He SaM > ' You Wouldn7t let me starve, would you?' 
1 told him no, but that I wouldn't give him the money I 


asked him to come to the Y. M. C. A. with me andstay until 
after the meeting and I would take Mm out and get Mm a 
good supper and a bed. He wanted me to do it right away 
before going to the Y. M, C. A., but I told him that I was 
working for someone until ten o'clock. So he came up to 
the meeting and stayed through the meeting and was very 
much interested. I saw that he used excellent language 
and questioned him and found that he was a man who had 
been Adjutant General of one of the Central States and had 
at one time been the editor of two of the biggest newspapers. 
"I went with him after the meeting and got Mm a 
supper and a bed and went to some friends and we got Ms 
clothes. I asked Mm if he had any relatives and he said he 
had one son who was a bank casMer but that he had disowned 
Mm and Ms picture was taken from the family album and 
Ms name was never spoken in the house, all because he was 
now down and out, on account of booze. 

"I wrote to the boy and said, Tve found your father. 
Send me some money to help him/ 

"He wrote back and said for me never to mention his 
father's name to him again, that it wasn't ever spoken 
around the house and that Ms father was forgotten. 

"I replied: 'You miserable, low-down wretch. You 
can't disown your father and refuse to help Mm because he 
is down and out. Send me some money or I will publish 
the story in all of the papers.' He sent me five dollars and 
that's all I ever got from him. I took care of the old man 
all winter and in the spring I went to a relief society in 
CMcago and got him a ticket to Ms home and put Mm on the 
train and that was the last I ever saw of Mm." 

Redeeming a Son 

"I stood on the street one Sunday night giving out 
tickets inviting men to the men's meeting in Farwell Hall. 
Along came a young fellow, I should judge he was thirty, 
who looked prematurely old, and he said, 'Paid, will you 
give me a dime? ' 


"I said, 'No, sir/ 

"'I want to get something to eat/ 

"I said, 'You look to me as though you were a booze- 
fighter. ' 


" Til not give you money, but 111 get your supper/ 

"He said, 'Come on. I haven't eaten for two days/ 

"'My time is not my own until ten o'clock. You go 
upstairs until then and 111 buy you a good supper and get 
you a good, warm, clean bed in which to sleep, but 111 not 
give you the money. ' 

"He said, 'Thank you, 111 go/ He stayed for the 
meeting. I saw he was moved, and after the meeting I 
stood by his side. He wept and I talked to him about 
Jesus Christ, and he told me this story: 

"There were three boys in the family. They lived in 
Boston. The father died, the will was probated, he was 
given his portion, took it, started out drinking and gambling. 
At last he reached Denver, Ms money was gone, and he got 
a position as fireman in the Denver and Rio Grande switch 
yards. His mother kept writing to Mm, but he told me 
that he never read the letters. He said that when he saw 
the postmark and the writing he threw the letter into the 
firebox, but one day, he couldn't tell why, he opened the 
letter and it read: 

"'Dear : I haven't heard from you directly, but 

I am sure that you must need a mother's care in the far-off 
West, and unless you answer this in a reasonable time I'm 
going to Denver to see you/ And she went on pleading, 
as only a mother could, and closed it: i Your loving mother. ' 

"He said, 'I threw the letter in the fire and paid no more 
heed to it. One day about two weeks later I saw a woman 
coming down the track and I said to the engineer: "That 
looks like my mother." She drew near, and I said: "Yes, 
that's mother." What do you think I did?' 

"I said, 'Why you climbed out of your engine, kissed 
her and asked God to forgive you. ' 



" He said, *I did nothing of the kind, 1 was so low- 
down, I wouldn't even speak to my mother. She followed 
me up and down the switchyard and even followed me to my 
boarding house. I went upstairs, changed my clothes, 
came down, and she said, "Frank, stay and talk with me." 
I pushed by her and went out and spent the night in sin. I 
came back in the morning, changed my clothes and went 
to work. For four days she followed me up and down the 
switchyards and then she said, "Frank, you have broken my 
heart, and I am going 
away tomorrow." 

S( I happened 
to be near the despot 
with the engine when 
she got on the train 
and she raised the 
window and said, 
"Frank, kiss me 
good-bye. ' * I stood 
talking with some of 
my drinking and 
gambling friends and 
one man said, 
"Frank Adsitt, you 
are a fool to treat 
your mother like f FRANK, Kiss ME GOOD-BYE!" 

that. Kiss her 

good-bye." I jerked from him and turned back. 1 
heard the conductor call "All aboard." I heard the bell 
on the engine ring and the train started out, and I heard 
my mother cry, "Oh, Frank, if you won't kiss me good-bye, 
for God's sake turn and look at me!" 

"'Mr. Sunday, when the train on the Burlington Rail 
road pulled out of Denver, I stood with my back to my 
mother. That's been nine years ago and I have never seen 
nor heard from her.' 

"I led him to Jesus. I got him a position in the old 


Exposition building on the lake front. He gave me the 
money he didn't need for board and washing, I kept his 
money for months He came to me one day and asked 
for it. 

"He used to come to the noon meetings every day* 
Finally I missed him, and I didn't see him again until in 
June, 1893, during the World's Fair he walked into the Y. M. 
C. A. I said, 'Why, Frank, how do you do?' 

"He said, 'How do you know me?' 

"I said^ 'I have never forgotten you; how is your 

"He smiled, then his face quickly changed to sadness, 
and he said, 'She is across the street in the Brevoort House. 
I am taking her to California to fill her last days with 
sunshine. 3 

"Three months later, out in Pasadena, she called him 
to her bedside, drew him down, kissed him, and said, 'Good 
bye ; I can die happy because I know my boy is a Christian. ' " 

The Gambler 

"I have reached down into the sHme, and have been 
privileged to help tens of thousands out of the mire of sin 
and I believe that most of them will be saved, too. I've 
helped men in all walks of life. When I was in Chicago 
I helped a man and got him a position, and so was able to 
restore Mm to his wife and children. One Anight a fellow 
came to me and told me that the man was playing faro 
bank down on Clark Street. I said: 'Why that can 
hardly be I took dinner with him only a few hours ago/ 

"But my inlormant had told me the truth, so I put on 
my coat and went down LaSalle Street and past the New 
York Life Building and along up the stairway to the gam 
bling room. I went past the big doorkeeper, and I found a 
lot of men in there, playing keno and faro bank and roulette 
and stud and draw poker. I saw my man there, just play 
ing a hand. In a moment he walked over to the bar and 
ordered a Rhine wine and seltzer. 



"I walked over and touched Mm on the shoulder, anc} 
he looked and turned pale. I said, 'Come out of this, 
Come with me/ He said, 'Here's my money/ and pulled 
$144 from his pocket and handed it to me. I don't want 
your money/ He refused at first, and it was one o'clock 
in the morning before I got him away from there. I took 
him home and talked to him, then I sent down into Ohio 
for an old uncle of bis, for he had forged notes amounting 
to $2,000 or so, and we had to get him out of trouble. We 
got him all fixed up and we got him a job selling relief maps, 
and he made $5,000 a year. 

"I didn't hear from him for a long time; then one day 
Jailor Whitman called me up and told me that Tom Barrett, 
an old ball player I knew well, wanted me to come up and 
see a man who had been sentenced to the penitentiary. I 
went down to the jail and the prisoner was my friend. I 
asked him what was the matter, and he said that he and some 
other fellows had framed up a plan to stick up a jewelry 
store. He was caught and the others got away. He wouldn't 
snitch, and so he was going down to Joliet on an indeter 
minate sentence of from one to fourteen years. He said: 
'You are the only man that will help me. Will you do it? 7 

"I said: 'I won't help you, I won't spend so much as a 
postage stamp on you if you are going to play me dirt 
again!' He promised to do better as soon as he got out, 
and I wrote a letter to my friend, Andy Russell, chairman 
of the board of pardons. He took up the case and we got 
my friend's sentence cut down to a maximum of five years. 

"Time passed again, and one day he came in dressed 
fit to kill. He had on an $80 overcoat, a $50 suit, a $4 
necktie, a pair of patent leather shoes that cost $15, shirt 
buttons as big as hickory nuts and diamond cuff buttons. 
He walked up to my desk in the Y. M. C. A, and pulled out 
a roll of bills. There were a lot ot them yellow fellows. 
I noticed that there was one for $500. There was over 
$4,500 in the roll. He said: 'I won it last night at faro 
bank/ He asked me to go out to dinner with him and I 


went. We had everything on the bill of fare, from soup to 
nuts, and the check was $7.60 apiece for two suppers. IVe 
never had such a dinner since. 

"We talked things over. He said he was making 
money hand over fist that he could make more in a week 
than I could in a year. I was working at the Y. M. C. A. 
for $83 a month, and then not getting it, and base-ball 
managers were making me tempting offers of good money 
to go back into the game at $500 to $1,000 a month to 
finish the season. But I wouldn't do it. Nobody called me 
a grafter then. 'Well/ I said to my friend, 'old man, 
you may have more at the end of the year than IVe got 
maybe I won't have carfare but 111 be ahead of you. ' 

"Where is he now? Down at Joliet, where there is a 
big walled institution and where the stripes on your clothes 

run crossways " 

A Living Testimony 

"I had a friend who was a brilliant young fellow. He 
covered the Chino-Japanese war for a New York paper. 
He was on his way home when he was shipwrecked, and 
the captain and he were on an island living on roots for 
a week and then they signaled a steamer and got started 
horne.^ He got word from the New York Tribune and they 
told him to go to Frisco, so he went, and they told him to 
come Across the arid country and write up the prospects 
of irrigation. And as he walked across those plains, he 
thought of how they would blossom if they were only 
irrigated^ Then he thought of how his life was like that 
desert, with nothing in it but waste. 

"He got to Chicago and got a job on the Times and lost 
it on account of drunkenness, and couldn't get another on 
account of having no recommendation. So he walked out 
one winter night and took his reporter's book, addressed it 
to^his father, and wrote something like this: Tve made a 
miserable failure of this life. I've disgraced-you and sent 
mother to a premature grave. If you care to look for me 


you'll find my body in the Chicago River, ? He tossed aside 
the book and it fell on the snow. 

"He leaped to the rail of the bridge, but a policeman 
who had been watching him sprang and caught him. He 
begged him to let him leap, but the policeman wouldn't 
do it and got his story from him.. Then the policeman said, 
'Well, I don ? t know whether you're stringing me or not, 
but if half of what you say is true you can make a big thing 
out of life. I'm not much on religion, but 111 show you a 
place where they will keep you/ and he took him to the 
Pacific Garden Mission at 100 East Van Buren Street, 
which for 13,000 nights has had its doors open every night. 

"He went in and sat down by a bum. He read some 
of the mottos, like 'When did you write to mother last? 7 
and they began to work on him and he asked the bum 
what graft they got out of this. The bum flared right up 
and said there was no graft, that Mrs. Clark had just 
mortgaged her home for $3,000 to pay back rent. Then 
he told him he could sleep right there and go down in the 
morning and get something to eat free, and if he could 
not land a bed by next night he could come back to one of 
the benches. Then my friend got up and told him the 
story of Jesus Christ, and the young man went down and 
accepted Christ. He was so full of gold bromide cures 
that he tingled when he talked and he jingled when he 

"He started out to give his testimony and he was a 
marvelous power. I met him some time later in an elevator 
in Chicago, and he was dressed to kill with a silk lid and a 
big diamond and the latest cut Prince Albert, and he said, 
'Bill, that was a great day for me. I started out with not 
enough clothes to make a tail for a kite or a pad for a crutch 
and now look at me/ He was secretary in the firm of 
Morgan & Wright, and was drawing $175 a month. He is an 
expert stenographer. A newspaper in New York had written 
him to take an associate editorship, but I told him not to do 
it, to stay where he was and tell his story." 


i J.JL 

The next classjbij^ 

Sunday enter eel was that of professional evangelistic work, 
in association with Rev. J. Wilbur Chapman, D.D., the well- 
known Presbyterian evangelist This invitation came after 
three years of service in the Chicago Y. M. C. A. 1 Not yet 
to platform speaking as his chief task was Sunday called. 
Far from it. He was a sort of general roustabout for the 
evangelist. His duties were multifarious. He was advance 
agent, going ahead to arrange meetings, to organize choirs, 
to help the local committee of arrangements with its adver 
tising or other preparations, and, in general, tying up all 
loose ends. When tents were used he would help erect them 
with his own hands; the fists that so sturdily beat pulpits 
today, have often driven home tent pegs, Sunday sold the 
evangelist's song books and sermons at the meetings; helped 
take up the collection, and, when need arose, spoke from the 
platform. The persons who wonder at the amazing effi 
ciency for organization displayed by Sunday overlook this 
unique apprenticeship to a distinguished evangelist. He is 
a "practical man" in every aspect of evangelistic campaigns, 
from organizing a local committee and building the audi 
torium, to handling and training the converts who come 

The providence of all this is clear in retrospect : but as. 
for Sunday himself, he was being led by a way that he knew 

A Shut Door and an Open One 

Faith is the beginning of something of which you can't see the end but 
in which you believe. BILLY SUNDAY. 

DESTINY'S door turns on small hinges. Almost 
everybody can say out of Ms own experience, "If 
I had done this, instead of that, the whole course of 
my life would have been changed." At many points in 
the career of William A. Sunday we see what intrinsically 
small and unrelated incidents determined Ms future course 
in life. 

If he had not been sitting on that Chicago curbstone 
one evening, and if the Pacific Garden Mission workers had 
failed on that one occasion alone to go forth into the Mgh- 
ways, Billy Sunday might have been only one of the 
multitude of forgotten base-ball players. If he had not 
gone to prayer-meeting in his new church home he would 
not have met the wife who has been so largely a determin 
ing factor in his work. If he had not joined the Y. M. C. A. 
forces in Chicago he would not have become Peter Bil- 
horn's friend and so Dr. Chapman's assistant. 

And here we come to a very human story if Dr. J. 
Wilbur^Chapmim^ decided to aban^n*the 

evangelistic^Eeld and return to the pastorate of Bethany 
Presbyterian Church in PhiladelpMa, Sunday would doubt 
less still be unknown to the world as a great religious 
leader. *} The story came to me from the lips of the 
evangelist himself one morning. We were discussing certain 
current criticisms of his work and he showed himself 
frankly bewildered as well as pained by the hostility dis 
played toward him on the part of those up to whom he 
looked as leaders and counselors. Off the platform Sunday 
is one of the most cMldlike and guileless of men. He grew 



reminiscent and confidential as he said to me: "I don ? t 
see why they hammer me so. I have just gone on, as the 
Lord opened the way, trying to do his work. I had no plan 
for this sort of thing. It is all the Lord's doings. Just 
look how it all began, and how wonderfully the Lord has 
cared for me. 

"I had given up my Y, M* C. A* work, and was help 
ing Chapman, doing all sorts of jobs putting up tents, 
straightening out chairs after the meetings and occasionally 
speaking. Then, all of a sudden, during the holidays of 
1895-96, 1 had a telegram from Chapman saying that our 
work was all off, because he had decided to return to 
Bethany Church. 

"There I was, out of work, knowing not which way to 
turn. I had a wife and two, children to support. I could 
not go back to base ball. I had given up my Y. M. C. A. 
position. I had no money. What should I do? I laid it 
before the Lord, and in a short while there came a telegram 
from a little town named Garner, out in Iowa, asking me to 
come out and conduct some meetings. I didn't know any 
body out there, and I don't know yet why they ever asked 
me to hold meetings. But I went. 

"I only had eight sermons, so could not run more than 
ten days, and that only by taking Saturdays off. That was 
the beginning of my independent work; but from that 
day to this I have never had to seek a call to do evangelis 
tic work. I have just gone along, entering the doors that 
the Lord has opened one after another. Now I have about 
a hundred sermons and invitations for more than two years 
in advance. I have tried to be true to the Lord and to do 
just what he wants me to do. J? 

That naive bit of autobiography reveals the" real Billy 
Sunday. He has gone forward as the doors have been 
providentially opened. His career has not been shrewdly 
planned % himself. Nobody has been more surprised at 
his success than he. Of him may be recorded the lines that 
are inscribed on Emerson's tombstone in Sleepy Hollow 
Cemetery, Concord: 


"The passive master lent his hand 
To the vast Soul that o'er him planned.** 1 

From Garner, Iowa, to Philadelphia, with, its most 
eminent citizens on the committee of arrangements, seems a 
far cry; but the path is plainly one of Providence. Sunday 
has added to his addresses gleanings from many sources, 
but he has not abated the simplicity of his message. The 
gospel he preaches today is that which he heard in the Pacific 
Garden Rescue Mission a quarter of a century ago. 

In childlike faith, this man of straight and unshaded 
thinking has gone forward to whatever work has offered 
itself. Nobody knows better than he that it is by no powers 
of his own that mighty results have been achieved: "This 
is the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes." 

While the Sunday meetings have swung a wide orbit 
they have centered in the Middle West. That typically 
American section of the country was quick to appreciate 
the evangelist's character and message. He was of them, 
"bone of their bone, flesh of their flesh/' mind of their mind. 

When news of the triumphs of this evangelist's uncon 
ventionally-phrased gospel began to be carried over the 
country a few years ago, the verdict of religious leaders was, 
"Billy Sunday may 'do for the Middle West, but the East 
will not stand him." Since then, again, to the confusion 
of human wisdom, his most notable work has been achieved 
in the East, in the great cities of Pittsburgh and Scranton; 
and at this writing the city of Philadelphia is in the midst 
of preparations for a* Sunday campaign; while the Baltimore 
churches have also invited him to conduct meetings with 
them. Billy Sunday is now a national figure and the 
foremost personality on the day's religious horizon. "A 
recent issue of The American Magazine carried the results 
of a voting contest, "Who's the Greatest 'Man in America." 
Only one other clergyman (Bishop Vincent, of Chautauqua) 
was mentioned at all, but Billy Sunday was tied with 
Andrew Carnegie and Judge Lindsey for eighth place. 


When the Presbytery of Chicago, in 1905, ordained 
William A. Sunday to the regular ministry, there were some 
doubting Thomases, and the evangelist's examination lasted 
more than an hour. Since then, however, Sunday has been 
honored by Princeton, the oldest of the theological semi 
naries of his denomination, as no other living man has been 

When Sunday visited Washington for a day, his meet 
ings overtopped in public interest the proceedings of the 
nation's Congress and he was greeted by the President of the 
United States and most of the leading government officials. 

His Philadelphia meetings, January 3 March 21, 1915, 
were literally a center of nation-wide attention. In all the 
history of the world no other religious event has ever received 
so much consecutive and contemporaneous newspaper 
publicity. Pilgrims, clerical and lay, traveled to" Philadel 
phia from all parts of the land in order to attend the services. 
Several hundred New York clergymen went over in a body 
to spend a day in the Tabernacle. 

There are no parallels for the manner in which Phila 
delphia and its vicinity was swept by the revival. The 
aggregate attendance upon the Tabernacle services was 
more than two million persons, with another million attend 
ing the meetings conducted by the eighteen members of the 
Sunday party, and by the volunteer associates. 

The ovation given to Sunday upon his arrival at Broad 
Street Station by the cheering thousands exceeded anything 
ever accorded president, prince or returning hero. The fare 
well demonstration was still more overwhelming. 

The climax of twenty years of arduous campaigning 
was this Philadelphia experience. The cards signed by trail- 
hitters numbered 41,724, with churches reporting two and 
three times as many converts outside of the Tabernacle. 
The last day's recruits numbered 1,858. The farewell gift 
to Mr. Sunday was $52,849.97, and the collections for the 
local expenses were over $50,000. Something more than 
$15,000 was raised in the meetings for charitable purposes. 










5 HOW 




Campaigning for Christ 

Let's quit fiddling with religion and do sometMng to bring the world 
to Christ. BILLY SUNDAY, 

HIS American birthright of plain common sense 
stands Sunday in stead of theological training. 
He is " a practical man, " as mechanics say. Kipling's 
poem on "The American 77 hits off Sunday exactly: 

"He turns a keen, untroubled face 
Home to the instant need of things/* 

So a Sunday evangelistic campaign is a marvel of organ 
ization. It spells efficiency at every turn and is a lesson to 
the communities which do Christian work in haphazard, 
hit-or-miss fashion. Work and faith are written large over 
every series of Sunday meetings. 

Sunday never took a course in psychology, but he 
understands the crowd mind. He knows how to deal with 
multitudes. He sees clearly where the masses must come 
from, and so he sets to work to bring them out of the homes 
of the working people. He goes beyond the church 'circles 
for his congregations, and makes his appeal to the popular 
taste. He frankly aims to strike the average of the common 
people. For he is after that host which too often the 
preacher knows nothing about. 

People must be set to talking about religion and about 
the Sunday campaign if the latter is to succeed. Indifference 
is the ;foe of all foes to be feared by an evangelist. Even 
hostile criticism really serves a religious purpose, for it 
directs attention to the messenger and the message. Knowl 
edge of this is the reason why Sunday always devotes his 
earliest sermons in a campaign to the subjects likeliest to 


create comment. These are the discourses that contain 
the largest proportion of startling views and language. 

Part of the task of a man who would move a city for 
Christ is to consolidate Christian sentiment and to create 
a Church consciousness. Sunday is at great pains to get 
his own " crowd " behind him. He evokes that loyalty 
which alone makes organized work and war effective. 

So he insists" that" "churches must unite before he will 
visit a city.- Also he asks that they surrender their Sunday 
services, all uniting in common worship in the Tabernacle. 
For these campaigns are not Billy Sunday meetings: they 
are an effort toward a revival of religion on the part of the 
', united Christian forces of a community. If anybody thinks 
the evangelist disparages the Church, he need but recall the 
.particular effort Sunday makes to solidify the Church folk: 
that reveals his real estimate of the Church. He would no 
more attempt a revival without church co-operation than a 
general would besiege a city without an army. This 
Christian unity which he requires first of all is a sermon in 
itself. V' 1 "*" ; 

Before one has looked very deeply into the work of 
Evangelist Sunday he perceives that it is no new message 
the man speaks, but that it is his modernization of language 
and of methods that makes possible the achieving of great 
results by the old Gospel. 

The preacher of a generation ago would have counted 
it indecorous to make use of the public press. Sunday 
depends largely upon the newspapers for spreading his 
message and promoting interest in the meetings. He does 
not employ a press agent; he simply extends to the local 
press all the facilities and co-operation in his power. He is 
always accessible to the reporters and ever ready to assist 
in their work in any proper fashion. He makes public 
announcements frequently in his meetings of the cordial 
assistance he has received from the newspapers. 

Without any expense to anybody and without any 
scientific experience in this particular field, Sunday has 


demonstrated the power of Christian publicity. The news 
papers carry his messages all over the world. The Pitts 
burgh dailies published special " Sunday Editions." They 
had thousands of subscribers for the issues containing the 
evangelist's sermons and many persons have been converted 
by reading the newspaper accounts of the Sunday meetings. 
One cherished story tells of a young man in China who had 
been converted thirteen thousand miles away from the 
spot where the evangelist was speaking. Sunday makes 
religion "live news." Editors are glad to have copy about 
him and his work, and about anything that pertains to the 
campaigns. The uniform experience of the communities he 
has visited is that the Church has had more publicity through 
his visit than on any other occasion. 

After Sunday has accepted a city's invitation and a 
date has been fixed for the meetings, and the time has drawn 
near, he gets the Church people to organize. Before ever 
a hammer has struck a blow in the building of the Sunday 
Tabernacle, the people have been meeting daily in the homes 
of the city for concerted prayer for the Divine favor upon 
the campaign. 

By the Sunday system of work, every few blocks in 
the city is made a center for cottage prayer-meetings. No 
politician ever divided a community more carefully than do 
the Sunday workers in arranging for these prayer-meetings. 
Every section of the city is covered and every block and 
street. By preference, the meetings are held in the homes 
of the unconf erted, and it is a normal experience for con 
versions to He reported before ever the evangelist arrives. 
In Scranton the city was divided into nine districts besides 
the suburbs and these districts were again sub-divided so 
that one had as many as eighty-four prayer groups. The 
total proportions of this kind of work are illustrated by the 
Pittsburgh figures: Between December 2 and December 
26, 4,137 prayer meetings in private houses were held, hav 
ing a combined attendance of 68,360 persons. But these 
figures were wholly eclipsed by those from Philadelphia. 


A stranger roaming about the streets of Philadelphia 
during December, 1914, would have been struck by the 
number of signs in the windows of private homes, announc 
ing prayer meetings within. During the entire month these 
home prayer meetings were held twice a week, averaging 
more than five thousand meetings on each assigned night, 
with more than one hundred thousand persons present 
nightly. This meant an aggregate attendance of nearly 
a million Christians upon preparatory prayer services! 

When tens of thousands of earnest Christians are 
meeting constantly for united prayer a spirit of expectancy 
and unity is created which makes sure the success of 'the 
revival. Incidentally, there is a welding together of Christian 
forces that will abide long after the evangelist has gone. 
These pre1i.tDiTsa.iry prayer-meetings are a revelation of the 
tremendous possibilities inherent in the churches of any 
community. With such a sea of prayer buoying him up 
any preacher could have a revival. 

Sagaciously, Sunday throws all responsibility back on 
the churches. While he takes command of the ship when he 
arrives, yet he does all in his power to prevent the campaign 
from being a one-man affair. The local committee must 
underwrite the expenses; for these campaigns are not to be 
financed by the gifts of the wealthy, but by the rank and file 
of the church membership accepting responsibility of the 
work. The guarantees are underwritten in the form of 
shares and each guarantor receives a receipt for Ms shares 
to be preserved as a memento of the campaign. True, no 
guarantor ever had to pay a dollar on his Billy Sunday 
campaign subscription, for the evangelist himself raises all 
of the expense money in the early meetings of the series. 

John the Baptist was only a voice: but Billy Sunday is 
a voice, plus a bewildering array of committees and assistants 
and organized machinery. He has committees galore to 
co-operate in Ms work: a drilled army of the Lord. In the 
list of Scranton workers that is before me I see tabulated 
an executive committee, the directors, a prayer-meeting com- 


mittee, an entertainment committee, an usher committee, 
a dinner committee, a business women's committee, a build 
ing committee, a nursery committee, a personal workers' 
committee, a decorating committee, a shop-meetings com 
mittee and then a whole list of churches and religious 
organizations in the city as ex-officio workers! 

Wherever he goes Sunday erects a special tabernacle 
for Ms meetings. There are many reasons for this. The 
very building of a tabernacle dedicated to this one special 
use helps create an interest in the campaign as something 
new come to town. But, primarily, the evangelist's purposes 
are practical. In the first place, everything has to be on 
the ground floor. Converts cannot come forward from a 
gallery. In addition, existing big buildings rarely have 
proper acoustics. Most of all Sunday, who has a dread of 
panics or accidents happening in connection with his 
meetings, stresses the point that in his tabernacle people 
have their feet on the ground. There is nothing to give 
way with them. The sawdust and tan bark is warm, dust- 
less, sanitary, fireproof and noiseless. "When a crowd 
gets to walking on a wooden floor/' said Sunday and then 
he made a motion of sheer disgust that shows how sensitive 
he is to any sort of disturbance "it's the limit." 

One of his idiosyncrasies is that he must have a perfectly 
i]still audience. He will stop in the midst of a sermon to let 
a single person walk down the aisle. When auditors start 
coughing he stops preaching. He never lets his crowd get 
for an instant out of hand. The result is that there probably 
never were so many persons gathered together in one building 
at one time in such uniform quietness. 

The possibilities of panic in a massed multitude of 
thousands are best understood by those who have had most 
to do with crowds. Sunday's watchfulness against this 
marks the shrewd American caution of the man. His 
tabernacles, no matter whether they seat five, eight, ten, 
fifteen, or twenty thousand persons, are all built under the 
direction of Ms own helper, who has traveled with him for 


years. He knows that nothing will break down, or go 
askew. His tabernacles are fairly panic-proof. Thus 'every 
aisle, lengthwise and crosswise, ends in a door. 

So careful is he of the emergency that might arise for a 
quick exit that no board in the whole tabernacle is fastened 
with more than two nails; so that one could put his foot 
through the side of the wall if there was need to get out 
hurriedly. Describing the building of the choir platform 
Sunday says, with a grim shutting of Ms jaws: "You 
could run a locomotive over it and never faze it." His 
own platform, on which he does amazing gymnastic stunts 
at every meeting, is made to withstand all shocks. About 
the walls of the tabernacle are fire extinguishers, and a squad 
of firemen and policemen are on duty with every audience. 

There is nothing about a Sunday tabernacle to suggest 
a cathedral. It is a big turtle-back barn of raw, unfinished 
timber, but it has been constructed for its special purpose, 
and every mechanical device is used to assist the speaker's 
voice. Sunday can make twenty-five thousand persons 
hear perfectly in one of his big tabernacles. A huge sounding 
board, more useful than beautiful, hangs like an inverted 
sugar scoop over the evangelist's platform. 

Behind the platform is the post office, to which the names 
of converts are sent for the city pastors every day; and here 
also are the telephones for the use of the press. Adjoining 
the tabernacle is a nursery for babies, and an emergency 
hospital with a nurse in attendance. It seems as if no 
detail of efficient service has been overlooked by this practical 
westerner. So well organized is everything that the collec 
tion can be taken in an- audience of eight thousand persons 
within three minutes. 

While touching upon collections, this is as good a place 
as any to raise the point of Mr. Sunday's own compensation. 
He receives a free-will offering made on the last day. The 
offerings taken in the early weeks are to meet the expenses 
of the local committee. Mr. Sunday has nothing to do 
with this. This committee also pays approximately half 


of the expenses of Ms staff of workers, and it also provides 
a home for the Sunday party during their sojourn. Mr. 
Sunday himself pays the balance of the expenses of his 
workers out of the free-will offering which he receives on the 
last day. These gifts have reached large figures over 
$40,000 in Pittsburgh and $52,849.97 in Philadelphia, 

There is a quality in human nature which will not 
associate money with religion, and while we hear nobody 
grumble at a city's paying thousands of dollars a night for 
a grand opera performance; yet an evangelist who has 
sweetened up an entire city, lessened the police expense, 
promoted the general happiness and redeemed hundreds 
of thousands of lives from open sin to godliness, is accused 
of mercenariness, because those whom he has served give 
Mtn a lavish offering as he departs. 

Although much criticized on the subject of money, Mr. 
Sunday steadfastly refuses to make answer to these strictures 
or to render an accounting, insisting that this is entirely a 
personal matter with him. Nobody who knows him doubts 
his personal generosity or Ms sense of stewardship. Inti 
mate friends say that he tithes his income. 

Three important departments of the Sunday organization 
are the choir, the ushers, and the personal-work secretaries. 
Concerning the first more will be said in a later chapter. 
The ushers are by no means ornamental functionaries. 
They are a drilled regiment, each with Ms station of duty 
and all disciplined to meet any emergency that may arise. 
In addition to seating the people and taking the collection, 
they have the difficult task of assisting the officers to keep 
out the overflow crowds who try to press into the building 
that has been filled to its legal capacity. For it is quite a 
normal condition in the Sunday campaigns for thousands 
of persons to try to crowd their way into the tabernacle after 
the latter is full. Sometimes it takes foot-ball tactics to 
keep them out. 

Without the assistance of the personal-work secretaries 
the rush forward when the invitation is extended would 


mean a frantic mob. The recruits have to be formed 
into line and directed to the pulpit where they take Mr. 
Sunday's hand. Then they must be guided into the front 
benches and the name and address and church preference 
of each secured. While the invitation is being given personal 
workers all over the building are busy gathering converts. 
The magnitude .of the Sunday evangelistic meetings in their 
results is revealed by the necessity for systematically han 
dling the converts as vividly as by any other one factor. 

The tabernacle by no means houses all of the Sunday 
campaign. There are noon shop meetings, there are noon 
meetings for business women and luncheon meetings, there 
are services in the schools, in the jails, in the hospitals, and 
there are special afternoon parlor meetings where social 
leaders hear the same message that is given to the men of 
the street. In a phrase, the entire community is combed by 
personal activity in order to reach everybody with the 
Sunday evangelistic invitation. 

The personnel of the Sunday party has varied during 
the years. The first assistant was Fred G. Fischer, a soloist 
and choir leader who continued with the evangelist for 
eight years. At present the staff numbers about a dozen 
workers. Among past and present helpers have been Homer 
A. Rodeheaver, the chorister; Charles Butler, the soloist; 
Elijah J. Brown ("Ram's Horn" Brown); Fred. R. Seibert, 
an ex-cowboy and a graduate of the Moody School, who is 
the handy man of the tabernacle; Miss Frances Miller, 
Miss Grace Saxe, Miss Anna MacLaren, Mrs. Rae Muirhead, 
Rev. L. K. Peacock, B. D. Ackley, Albert G. Gill, Joseph 
SpIe@ 9 the builder, Mrs. and Mr. Asher and Rev. I. E. 
Honeywell As the magnitude of the work increases this 
force is steadily augmented, so that the evangelist must 
not only be a prophet but a captain of industry. 

The Sunday Campaign clearly reveals that as Kipling's 
old engineer, McAndrew, says, 

understand, a man must think o 1 things.** 

11 Speech Seasoned with Salt w 

I want to preach the gospel so plainly that men can come from the 
factories and not have to bring along a dictionary. BILLY SUNDAY, 

SUNDAY is not a shepherd, but a soldier; not a hus 
bandman of a vineyard, but a quarryman. The r61e 
he fills more nearly approximates that of the Baptist, 
or one of the Old Testament prophets, than any other 
Bible character. The word of the Lord that has come to 
Jbim is not "Comfort ye! comfort ye!" but "Arouse ye! 
arouse ye!" and "Repent! repent!" 

Evangelist Sunday's mission is not conventional, nor 
may it be judged by conventional standards. He is not a 
pastor; probably he would be a failure in the pastorate. 
Neither would any sensible person expect pastors to 
resemble Billy Sunday; for that, too", would be a calamity. 

Taking a reasonable view of the case, what do we find? 
Here is a man whose clear work it is to attract the attention 
of the heedless to the claims of the gospel, to awaken a 
somnolent Church, and to call men to repentance. To do 
this a man must be sensational, just as John the Baptist 
was sensational not to mention that Greater One who 
drew the multitudes by his wonderful works and by his 
unconventional speech. 

In the time of Jesus, as now, religion had become 
embalmed in petrified phrases. The forms of religious 
speech were set. But Christ's talk was not different from 
everyday speech. The language of spirituality, which once 
represented great living verities, had become so conven 
tionalized that it slipped easily into cant and "shop talk." 
It is a fact which we scarcely like to admit that myriads 
of persons who attend church regularly do not expect 
really to understand what the preacher is talking about. 



They admire Ms "zeal" or "unction," but as for under 
standing him as clearly and definitely as they understand 
a neighbor talking over the back fence that is not to be 
thought of. 

When God called this man whom the common people 
should hear gladly, he took him straight out of the walks 
of common life with no other vocabulary than that of ordi 
nary "folks." We Americans use the most vivid language 
of any people. Our words are alive, new ones being born 
every hour. "Slang 53 we call these word pictures, and bar 
them from polite speech until the crowbar of custom has 
jimmied a way for them into the dictionary. And the 
most productive slang factory of our time is the realm of 
sports in which Sunday was trained. 

So he talks religion as he talked base ball. His words 
smack of the street corners, the shop, the athletic field, 
the crowd of men. That this speech is loose, extravagant 
and undignified may be freely granted: but it is under 
standable. Any kind of a fair play that will get the 
runners to the home plate is good base ball; and any 
speech that will puncture the shell of human nature's com 
placency and indifference to religion is good preaching. 
Neither John the Baptist nor Jesus was dignified, and 
highly correct Pharisees despised them as vulgarians; "but 
the common people heard him gladly." With such 
examples before him on one side, and a Church water 
logged with dignity on the other, Sunday has "gone the 
limit" in popularized speech. 

Perhaps he is not as polite as is professionally proper 
for a preacher. He seems to have recovered some of the 
prophet's lost art of denunciation. He dares call sin by 
its proper name. He excoriates the hypocrite. He cares 
not for feelings of the unfaithful preacher or of the double- 
living church member. As for the devil and all Ms lieuten 
ants, Sunday has for them a sizzling, blistering vocabulary 
that helps men to loathe sin and all its advocates. His 
uncompromising attitude is shown by this gem, culled 
from one of his sermons; 


"They say to me, 'Bill, you rub the fur the wrong 
way/ I don't; let the cats turn ? round." 

Again, "It isn't a good thing to have synonyms for 
sin. Adultery is adultery, even though you call it affinity," 

Again, "Paul said he would rather speak five words 
that were understood than ten thousand words in an 
unknown tongue. That hits me. I want people to know 
what I mean, and that's why I try to get down where they 
live. What do I care if some puff-eyed, dainty little dibbly- 
dibbly preacher goes tibbly-tibbling around because I use 
plain Anglo-Saxon words." 

Two important points are to be considered in connec 
tion with Sunday's vigorous vocabulary; the first is that 
what he says does not sound as bad as it seems in cold type. 
Often he is incorrectly reported. The constant contention 
of Ms friends is that he should be heard before being crit 
icized. The volume of testimony of all the men who have 
heard him preachers, professors and purists is that his 
addresses which seem shocking when reported are not 
shocking when heard. 

On the public square in Scranton a great sign was 
displayed by the local committee: 





One Scranton business man put it this way: "Type 
is cold; his sermons are hot." 

Sunday speaks with Ms eyes, with his gestures and 
with every muscle of his body; and all this must be taken 


Into account in weighing Ms words. Assuredly Ms message 
in its totality does not shock anybody. That is why 
preachers sit through Ms arraignment of a deficient church 
and ministry and applaud Mm. They find in his severest 
utterances a substantial volume of undoubted truth. 

The second point is that the most vigorous speech is 
used earliest in an evangelistic campaign. That is one 
way of stirring up the Church, and of attracting attention 
to the meetings. Sunday goads Christians to an interest, 
Apparently he purposely speaks to arouse resentment, if 
no other form of interest is awakened in Ms hearers. The 
latter "part of a Sunday campaign is singularly free from 
Ms denunciations, from Ms invective and from Ms slang. 
There is a clear method in Ms procedure, which is always 
followed in about the same course. 

Sunday would be the last man to expect everybody to 
approve all that he says, either in form or in substance. 
I don't; and I know no other thinking observer of Ms 
meetings who does. No more do I expect Mm to approve 
all that is said in this book. Nevertheless, there remains 
the unanswerable rejoinder to all criticism of Evangelist 
Sunday's utterances and message: he "delivers the goods." 
He does arouse communities to an interest in religion as 
no other preacher of our generation. He helps people 
"get right with God." His campaigns promote righteous 
ness, diminish wickedness^and strengthen the Church. 

As samples of the pungent sort of speech with wMch 
Sunday's discourses are flavored I have selected these 
shakings from Ms salt-celler: 

Live so that when the final sunimons comes you will 
leave something more behind you than an epitaph on a 
tombstone or an obituary in a newspaper. 

You can find anytMng in the average church today, 
from a humming bird to a turkey buzzard. 

The Lord is not compelled to use theologians. He can 
take snakes, sticks or anything else, and use them for the 
advancement of Ms cause. 

SALT" 78 

The Lord may have to pile a coffin on your back before 
he can get you to bend it. 

Don't throw your ticket away when the train goes into 
a tunnel. It will come out the other side. 

The safest pilot is not the fellow that wears the biggest 
hat, but the man who knows the channels. 

If a man goes to hell he ought to be there, or he wouldn't 
be there. 

I am preaching for the age in which I live* I am just 
recasting my vocabulary to suit the people of my age instead 
of Joshua's age. 

The Church gives the people what they need; the theater 
gives them what they want. 

Death-bed repentance is burning the candle of life in 
the service of the devil, and then blowing the smoke into 
the face of God. 

Your reputation is what people say about you. Your 
character is what God and your wife know about you. 

When your heart is breaking you don't want the dancing 
master or saloon-keeper. No, you want the preacher. 

Don't you know that every bad man in a communiV 
strengthens the devil's mortgage? 

Pilate washed his hands. If he had washed his old black 
heart he would have been all right. 

It takes a big man to see other people succeed without 
raising a howl. 

It's everybody's business how you live. 

Bring your repentance down to a spot-cash basis, 

I believe that cards and dancing are doing more to dans 
the spiritual life of the Church than the grog-shops though 
you can't accuse me of being a friend of that stinking, dirty, 
rotten, hell-soaked business. 

If you took no more care of yourself physically than 
spiritually, you'd be just as dried up physically as you are 


We place too much reliance upon preaching and upon 
amging, and too little on the living of those who sit in the 

The carpet in front of the mirrors of some of you people 
is worn threadbare, while at the side of your bed where you 
should kneel in prayer it is as good as the day you put it 

Some persons think they have to look like a hedgehog to 
be pious. 

Look into the preaching Jesus did and you will find it 
was aimed straight at the big sinners on the front seats. 

If you live wrong you can't die right. 

"You are weighed in the balance " but not by Brad- 
street's or Dun's you are weighed in God's balance. 

A revival gives the Church a little digitalis instead of an 

It isn't ''the sawdust trail that brings you to Christ, it's 
the Christ 'that is in the trail, the Christ that is in your 
public confession of sins. 

Some sermons instead of being a bugle call for service, 
are nothing more than showers of spiritual cocaine. 

Theology bears the same relation to Christianity that 
botany does to flowers. 

Morality isn't the light; it is only the polish on the 

Some homes need a hickory switch a good deal more 
than they do a piano. 

Churches don't need new members half so much as 
they need the old bunch made over. 

- ^ God's work is too often side-tracked, while social, 
business and domestic arrangements are thundering through 
on the main line. 

A lot of people, from the way they live, make you think 
they've got a ticket to heaven on a Pullman parlor car and 
have ordered the porter to wake 'em up when they get there. 
But they'll get side-tracked almost before they've started. 


I believe that a long step toward public morality will 
have been taken when sins are called by their right names. 

The bars of the Church are so low that any old hog with 
two or three suits of clothes and a bank roll can crawl through. 

You will not have power until there is nothing question 
able in your life. 

You can't measure manhood with a tape line around 
the biceps. 

The social life is the reflex of the home life. 

There are some so-called Christian homes today with 
books on the shelves of the library that have no more busi 
ness there than a rattler crawling about on the floor, or poison 
within the child's reach. 

Home is the place we love best and grumble the most. 

I don't believe there are devils enough in hell to pull a 
boy out of the arms of a godly mother. 

To train a boy in the way he should go you must go that 
way yourself. 

The man who lives for himself alone will be the sole 
mourner at his own funeral. 

Don't try to cover up the cussedness of your life, but 
get fixed up. 

Wrong company soon makes everything else wrong. 
An angel would never be able to get back to heaven again 
if he came down here for a week and put in his time going 
with company that some church members would consider 

The devil often grinds the axe with which God hews. 

I wish the Church were as afraid of imperfection as it is 
of perfection. 

Whisky is all right in its place but its place is in hell. 
A pup barks more than an old dog. 

Character needs no epitaph. You can bury the man, 
but character will beat the hearse back from the graveyard 


and it will travel up and down the streets while you are under 
the sod. It will bless or blight long after your name is 

Some people pray like a jack-rabbit eating cabbage. 

If you put a polecat in the parlor you know which will 
change first the polecat or the parlor? 

A church is not dropped down on a street corner to 
decorate the corner and be the property of a certain denomi 

Many preachers are like a physician strong on diag 
nosis, but weak on therapeutics. 

Your religion is in your will, not in your handkerchief. 

It won Vsave your soul if your wife is a Christian. You 
have got to be something more than a brother-in-law to 
the Church. 

If every black cloud had a cyclone in it, the world 
would have been blown into tooth-picks long ago. 

No man has any business to be in a bad business. 

When you quit living like the devil I will quit preaching 
that way. 

You can't raise the standard of women's morals by 
raising their pay envelope. It lies deeper than that. 

The seventh commandment is not: "Thou shalt not 
commit affinity." 

A saloon-keeper and a good mother don't pull on the 

same rope. 

The presumptive husband should be able to show more 
than the price of a marriage license. 

Put the kicking straps on the old Adam, feed the angel 
in you, and starve the devil. 

When a baby is born, what do you do with it? Put it in 
a refrigerator? That's a good place for a dead chicken, and 
cold meat, but a poor place for babies. Then don't put these 
new converts 3 ' babes in Christ/ into refrigerator churcheSo 


Fs^ t,l 


Nobody can read the Bible thoughtfully, and not be 
impressed with the way it upholds the manhood of man. 
More chapters in the Bible are devoted to portraying the 
manhood of Caleb than to the creation of the world. 

Home is on a level with the women; the town is on a 
level with the homes. 

You will find lots of things in Shakespeare which are 
not fit for reading in a mixed audience and call that litera 
ture. When you hear some truths here in the tabernacle 
you will call it vulgar. 
It makes all the differ 
ence in the w,orld 
whether Bill Shakes 
peare or Bill Sunday 
said it. 

The more oyster 
soup it takes to run a 
church, the faster it* 
runs to the devil. 

The reason you 
don't like the Bible, 
you old sinner, is 

because it knows all 
about you. 

wasn't the first to find DON'T PUL& ON THE SAME ROPE" 

out that Moses made 

mistakes. God knew about it long before Ingersoll w&is 


All that God has ever done to save this old world, has 
been done through men and women of flesh and blood like 

Nearly everybody is stuck up about something. Some 
people are even proud that they aren't proud. 

The average young man is more careful of his company 
than the average girl. 

Going to church doesn't make a man a Christian, any 
more than going to a garage makes him an automobile. 


If we people were able to have panes of glass over our 
hearts, some of us would want stained glass, wouldn't we? 

To see some people, you would think that the essential 
orthodox Christianity is to have a face so long they could 
eat oatmeal out of the end of a gas pipe 

God likes a little humor, as is evidenced by the fact that 
he made the monkey, the parrot and some of you people. 

Wouldn't this city be a great place to live in if some 
people would die, get converted, or move away? 

The normal way to get rid of drunkards is to quit 
raising drunkards to put the business that makes drunkards 
out of business, 

You can't shine for God on Sunday, and then be a 
London fog on Monday. 

I don't believe that God wants any man to be a hermit. 
Jesus Christ did not wear a hair shirt and sleep upon a bed 
of spikes. He went among the people and preached the 

If you only believe things that you can understand you 
must be an awful ignoramus. 

There is more power in a mother's hand than in a king's 


I have no doubt that there are men looking into my 
face tonight who will have "1914" carved on their tomb 

If God had no more interest in this world than some of 
you church members have in Johnstown, this city would 
have been in hell long ago. 

I hate to see a man roll up to church in a limousine and 
then drop a quarter in the collection plate. 

' Give yoiirjace to God and he will put his shine on it. 

t No fountain"*ulid:er"the""sun can hold enough to satisfy 
an immortal spirit. 

Jesus Christ came among the common people. Abraham 
Lincoln said that God must have loved the common people: 
he made so many of them. 


Yank some of the groans out of your prayers, and shove 
in some shouts. 

The Bible says forgive your debtors; the world says 
"sue them for their dough." 

The race will appear as far above us as we are above the 
harem when godly girls marry godly men, 

It is impossible for a saloon-keeper to enjoy a good red- 
hot prayer-meeting. 

I'm no spiritual masseur or osteopath. Fm a surgeon, 
and I cut deep. 

A prudent man won't swallow a potato bug, and then 
take Paris green to kill it. 

If you want milk and'honey on your bread, you'll have 
to go into the land where there are giants. 

There is nothing in the world of art like the songs 
mother used to sing. 

God pays a good mother. Mothers, get your names on 
God's payroll 

The man who can drive a hog and keep his religion 
will stand without hitching. 

The right preaching of the Gospel will never hurt any 
thing good. 

If you would have your children turn out well, don't 
turn your home into a lunch counter and lodging house. 

Man was a fool in the Garden of Eden, and he has taken 
a good many new degrees since. 

The backslider likes the preaching that wouldn't hit 
the side of a house, while the real disciple is delighted when 
the truth brings Mm to his knees. 

There would be more power in the prayers of some folks 
if they would put more white money in the collection basket. 
What have you given the world it never possessed before 
you came? 

Temptation is the devil looking ^ through the keyhole. 
Yielding is opening the door and inviting him in. 

Battling with "Booze" 

The man who votes for the saloon Is pulling on the same rope with the 
devil, whether he knows it or not. BILLY SUNDAY. 

THERE is a tremendous military advantage in having 
a definite enemy. The sermons that are aimed at 
nothing generally hit it. Billy Sunday is happiest 
and most successful when attacking the liquor evil. Down 
among the masses of men he learned for himself the awful 
malignity of strong drink, which he deems the greatest 
evil of our day. 

So he fights it. Everybody will admit the saloon 
keeper first of all that Billy Sunday is the most effective 
foe of the liquor business in America today. Small won 
der the brewers spend large sums of money in circulating 
attacks upon him, and in going before him to every town 
where he conducts meetings, spreading slanders of many 

There is a 4 ghastly humor in the success the brewers 
have in enlisting the preachers to make Common cause with 
them in discrediting this evangelist. Shrewd men have 
come quite generally to the conclusion that they will not 
give aid and comfort to the enemies of righteousness whose 
interests are best served by criticism of Billy Sunday. 
All incidental questions aside, Sunday does the Lord's work 
and is on the Lord's side. It is a pitiable spectacle to see 
the Lord's servants attacking him; though it is quite under 
standable why the liquor interest should spend large sums 
of money in antagonizing Sunday. It would be worth a 
million dollars to them any day if he could be put out of 

Wherever Sunday goes a great temperance awakening 
follows. In eleven of fifteen Illinois towns where he cam- 



paigned "dry" victories were won at the next election. 
Fifteen hundred saloons were put out of business in a single 
day in Illinois, largely as the result of his work. With 
characteristic indifference to figures and tabulated results, 
Sunday has kept no record of the communities which have 
gone "dry" following his meetings. That consequence 
is common. His recent presence in Pennsylvania is the 
surest token that the Keystone Sta-te will not much 
longer be the boasted Gibraltar of the liquor interests. 
Even up in Pennsylvania's coal regions, with their 
large foreign population, many communities are going 
"dry," while individual saloons are being starved out. 
Within about a year of Sunday's visit there, the 
number of saloons was reduced by more than two hun 

So intense is Sunday's zest for temperance that he will 
go anywhere possible to deliver a blow against the saloon. 
He has toured Illinois and West Virginia in special trains, 
campaigning for temperance. During the Sunday cam 
paign in Johnstown ten thousand men in a meeting organized 
themselves into a Billy Sunday Anti-Saloon League. In 
Iowa literally scores of towns and counties are reported as 
having gone dry as a direct result of the Sunday meetings. 
Muscatine, Ottumwa, Marshalltown, Linwood and Center- 
ville are communities in point. Thirteen out of fifteen towns 
in Illinois visited by Sunday voted out the saloon. West 
Virginia's temperance leaders utilized Sunday in a whirl 
wind campaign through the state. He spoke in ten towns 
in five days, traveling from point to point in a special car. 
It is now history that West Virginia went dry by ninety 
thousand majority. His latest work in the West has 
been timed to precede elections where the temperance 
question was an issue. Next to his passion for the con 
version of men and women is this consuming antagonism 
to rum. 

* More important than his own valiant blows against the 
saloon is the fact that Sunday makes enemies for the liquor 


business. Practically all of Ms converts and friends become 

enthusiastic temperance workers. In western Pennsylvania 
lie converted practical machine politicians to the old time 
Gospel and to the temperance cause. 

Every campaign is full of incidents like that of the 
blacksmith, a part of whose business came from a large 
brewery. When this man became a Sunday convert and 
a temperance "fanatic," as they termed him, the brewers' 
business was withdrawn. But the loyalty which Sunday 
infuses into his followers, rallied to the man's help, and such 
a volume of Christian business was turned his way that his 
conversion and the loss of the brewery trade turned out to 
his profit. 

In the Outlook of August 8, 1914, Lewis Edwin 
Theiss introduces a powerful article, "Industry versus 
Alcohol/' with this Billy Sunday story: 

" We were discussing Billy Sunday and the economic 
effect of his work. 

" 'The vice-president of the C Iron Works told 

me/ said a manufacturer of railway cars, 'that his com 
pany could have afforded to pay its employees a quarter 
of a million dollars more than their wages during the period 
that Billy Sunday was working among them.' 

'The corporation concerned is one of the great steel 
companies of the country. It employs thousands of men. 

" 'Why was that? ' I asked. 

" 'Because of the increased efficiency of the men. 
They were steadier. Accidents decreased remarkably. 
They produced enough extra steel to make their work worth 
the quarter million additional.' 

" 'It is interesting to find that religion has such an 
effect on every-day life/ I observed. 

" 'Religion as such had little to do with it/ replied 
the car-maker, 'except that it started it. The thing that 
made those men efficient was cutting out the drink. Billy 
Sunday got them all on the water wagon. They became 
sober and stayed sober. They could run their machines 


with steady hands and true eyes. The men themselves 
realize what a difference it makes. They are strong for 
prohibition. * If the people of Pittsburgh and its vicinity 
could vote on the temperance question today, the saloons 
would be wiped out there/ 

" 'The manufacturers are strong for prohibition, too. 
They never gave much thought to the matter before. 
But this demonstration of Billy Sunday's has made us all 
strong for prohibition. We know now that most of our 
accidents are due to whisky. For years we have been 
trying to find a way to secure a high degree of efficiency 
among our men. We never succeeded. Along comes this 
preacher and accomplishes more in a few weeks than we 
have ever been able to do. 

" 'We know now that until booze is banished we can 
never have really efficient workmen. We're fools if we 
don't profit by what he has shown us. Take it from me, 
booze has got to go. We are not much interested in the 
moral side of the matter as such. It is purely a matter of 
dollars and cents. They say corporations have no souls. 
From this time forth corporations are going to show 
mighty little soul toward the man who drinks.' " 

A great parade of men marks the close of a Sunday 
campaign. In Scranton the line of march was broken into 
by a brewer's wagon. The driver was not content with 
trying to break the line of parade, but he also hurled offensive 
epithets at Sunday and his converts. Perhaps passive 
endurance was the virtue called for on this occasion; but 
it was certainly not the virtue practiced. For those husky 
mill workers stepped out of line for a moment, bodily 
overturned the brewer's wagon, and sent the beer 
kegs rolling in the street, all to the tune of the Sunday 
war song, "De Brewer's Big Horses Can't Run Over 

This song, written by H. S. Taylor, is the most popular 
one in the Sunday campaign. It is by no means a hymn of 
worship, but rather a battle-cry. When thousands of 

Be Big 



B. S. Taylor. 

J. B. Herbert. 

irjk-ttfM. p p-f. ~p 


-J 1 U 

1 fs JJ J 

^ Hr j 


lp-^4-* * * i | i- 

1. Oh de Brew-er*s big hoss - es, 
2. Oh de lick - er men's act - in' 
S. Oh I'll har-ness dem hoss - es 

HJ.ft 4 III I 

com - in' down de road, 
like dey own dis place, 

to de temp-'rance cart. 

? ? r t } 

i * f- f 



gpp^-f -> _j^- 


Lj p 

1 ^ 


F__ _r 


Tot - in' all a - round 
Liv - in' on de sweat 
Hit 'em wid a gad 
i t 

^^MhS * J = 4-1 -^ = 
$ Li S 5 *-= *~S * * 

ole Lu ci - fe^s load; Dey step so high s 
ob de po' man's face. Dey's fat and sas - 
to gib 'em a start, I'll teach *em how 

... i f _ . ; J i 

-f + T ' ^ -s P- 1 

-S, 1 

-JJt c 


L| j 

Il^" ff ft N K 

p (_p p 

^&~ -| 

an' dey step so free, But c 
sy as dey can be, But c 
for to haw and gee, For < 
J f J 

!ZZf| 9 p <M 

em big hoss-es can't ru 
,em big hoss- es can't ru 
lem big hoss- es can't ru 

.p p fj 

no- ver i 
no- ver r 
no- ver r 








- 1 


noj boys, oh, no! De turnpike's free wherebber I go, I'm a temperance 

in - gine, don't you see, Andde Brewer's big hoss- es can't run o - ver me! 

JL ^L 4- ~ * - ^ - 

M*L v Sn 6 S. ec ! Can 1 be obtained if th male voices will imitate 
whistle while, the female voices sing the two following measures, 


men lift their voices in this militant refrain, with whistles 
blowing and bells ringing in the chorus, the effect is 
fairly thrilling. Words and music are beneath the 
consideration of the scholarly musician; but they strike 
the common mind of the American who wants a battle 


Oh, de Brewer's big bosses, comin* down de road, 
Totin' all around ole Lucifer's load; 
Dey step so high, an' dey step so free, 
But dem big hosses can't run over me. 


Oh, no! boys, oh, no! 

De turnpike's free wherebber I go, 

I'm a temperance ingine, don't you see, 

And de Brewer's big hosses can't run over me. 

Oh, de licker men's actin' like dey own dis place, 
Livin' on de sweat ob de po' man's face, 
Dey's fat and sassy as dey can be, 
But dem big hosses can't run over me. CHO O 

Oh, I'll harness dem hosses to de temp'rance cart, 

Hit 'em wid a gad to gib 'em a start, 

I'll teach 'em how for to haw and gee, 

For dem big hosses can't run over me. CHO. 

Sunday is the Peter the Hermit of the temperance 
crusade. He inflames men's passions for this righteous war. 
Most critics call his sermon on "booze" his greatest achieve 
ment. He treats the theme from all angles economic, 
social, human, and religious. When he puts a row of boys 
up on the platform and offers them as one day's contribution 
to the saloon's grist of manhood which must be maintained, 
the result is electric; all the militant manhood of the men 
before him is urged to action. 

* Reproduced by permission. Copyright, 1887, by Fillmore Bros. Homer A. Rodeheave? 
. International copyright secured. 



Here we have one of the strangest scenes in all the 
Gospels. Two men, possessed of devils, confront Jesus, 
and while the devils are crying out for Jesus to leave them, 
he commands the devils to come out, and the devils obey 
the command of Jesus. The devils ask permission to enter 
into a herd of swine feeding on the hillside. This is the only 
record we have of Jesus ever granting the petition of devils, 
and he did it for the salvation of men. 

Then the fellows that kept the hogs went back to town 
and told the peanut-brained, weasel-eyed, hog-jowled, beetle- 
browed, bull-necked lobsters that owned the hogs, that 
"a long-haired fanatic from Nazareth, named Jesus, has 
driven the devils out of some men and the devils have gone 
into the hogs, and the hogs into the sea, and the seainto the 
hogs, and the whole bunch is dead." 

And then the fat, fussy old fellows came out to see 
Jesus and said that he was hurting their business. A 
fellow says to me, "I don't think Jesus Christ did a nice 

You don't know what you are talking about, 

Down in Nashville, Tennessee, I saw four wagons going 
down the street, and they were loaded with stills, and kettles, 
and pipes. 

"What's this?" I said. 

"United States revenue officers, and they have been in 
the moonshine district and confiscated the illicit stills, and 
they are taking them down to the government scrap 

Jesus Christ was God's revenue officer. Now the Jews 
were forbidden to eat pork, but Jesus Christ came and found 
that crowd buying and selling and dealing in pork, and con 
fiscated the whole business, and he kept within the limits 
of the law when he did it. Then the fellows ran back to 
those who owned the hogs to tell what had befallen them 
and those hog-owners said to Jesus: "Take your helpers 
and hike. You are hurting our business." And they looked 


into the sea and the hogs were bottom side up, but Jesus 
said, " What is the matter?" 

And they answered, "Leave our hogs and go." A fellow 
says it is rather a strange request for the devils to make, 
to ask permission to enter into hogs. I don't know if 
I was a devil I would rather live in a good, decent hog than 
in lots of men. If you will drive the hog out you won't 
have to carry slop to him, so I will try to help you get rid 
of the hog. 

And they told Jesus to leave the country. They said: 
"You are hurting our business." 

Interest in^ Manhood 

"Have you no interest in manhood?" 

"We have no interest in that; just take your disciples 
and leave, for you are hurting our business." 

That is the attitude of the liquor traffic toward the 
Church, and State, and Government, and the preacher that 
has the backbone to fight the most damnable, corrupt 
institution that ever wriggled out of hell and fastened itself 
on the public. 

I am a temperance Republican down to my toes. Who 
is the man that fights the whisky business in the South? 
It is the Democrats! They have driven the business from 
Kansas, they have driven it from Georgia, and Maine and 
Mississippi and North Carolina and North Dakota and 
Oklahoma and Tennessee and West Virginia. And they 
have driven it out of 1,756 counties. And it is the rock- 
ribbed Democratic South that is fighting the saloon. They 
started this fight that is sweeping like fire over the United 
States. You might as well try and dam Niagara Falls with 
toothpicks as to stop the reform wave sweeping our land. 
The Democratic party of Florida has put a temperance 
plank in its platform and the Republican party of every 
state would nail that plank in their platform if they thought 
it would carry the election. It is simply a matter of decency 
and manhood, irrespective of politics. It is prosperity 


against poverty, sobriety against drunkenness, honesty 
against thieving, heaven against hell. Don't you want to 
see men sober? Brutal, staggering men transformed into 
respectable citizens? "No," said a saloonkeeper, "to hell 
with men. We are interested in our business, we have no 
interest in humanity." 

After all is said that can be said upon the liquor traffic, 
its influence is degrading upon the individual, the family, 
politics and business, and upon everything that you touch 
in this old world. For the time has long gone by when there 
is any ground for arguments as to its ill effects. All are 
agreed on that point. There is just one prime reason why the 
saloon has not been knocked into hell, and that is the false 
statement that "the saloons are needed to help lighten the 
taxes." The saloon business has never paid, and it has cost 
fifty times more than the revenue derived from it. 

Does the Saloon Help Business? 

I challenge you to show me where the saloon has ever 
helped business, education, church, morals or anything we 
hold dear. 

The wholesale and retail trade in Iowa pays every year 
at least $500,000 in licenses. Then if there were no draw 
back it ought to reduce the taxation twenty-five cents per 
capita. If the saloon is necessary to pay the taxes, and if 
they pay $500,000 in taxes, it ought to reduce them twenty- 
five cents a head. But no, the whisky business has increased 
taxes $1,000,000 instead of reducing them, and I defy any 
whisky man on God's dirt to show me one town that has 
the saloon where the taxes are lower than where they do 
not have the saloon. I defy you to show me an instance. 

Listen! Seventy-five per cent of our idiots come from 
intemperate parents; eighty per cent of the paupers, eighty- 
two per cent of the crime is committed by men under the 
influence of liquor; ninety per cent of the adult criminals 
are whisky-made. The Chicago Tribune kept track for 
ten years and found that 53,556 murders were committed 
by men under the influence of liquor. 


Archbishop Ireland, the famous Eoman Catholic, of 
St. Paul, said of social crime today, that "seventy-five 
per cent is caused by drink, and eighty per cent of the 

I go to a family and it is broken up, and I say, "What 
caused this?" Drink! I step up to a young man on the 
scaffold and say, "What brought you here?" Drink! 
Whence all the misery and sorrow and corruption? Inva 
riably it is drink. 

Five Points, in New York, was a spot as near like hell 
as any spot on earth. There are five streets that run to 
this point, and right in the middle was an old brewery and 
the streets on either side were lined with grog shops. The 
newspapers turned a searchlight on the district, and the first 
thing they had to do was to buy the old brewery and turn 
it into a mission, 

The Parent of Crimes 

The saloon is the sum of all villanies. It is worse than 
war or pestilence. It is the crime of crimes. It is the 
parent of crimes and the mother of sins. It is the appalling 
source of misery and crime in the land. ' And to license 

such an incarnate fiend of hell is the dirtiest, low-down, 
damnable business on top of this old earth. There is 
nothing to be compared to it. 

The legislature of Illinois appropriated $6,000,000 in 
1908 to take care of the insane people in the state, and the 
whisky business produces seventy-five per cent of the 
insane. That is what you go down in your pockets for to 
help support. Do away with the saloons and you will 
close these institutions. The saloons make them necessary, 
and they make the poverty and fill the jails and the peni 
tentiaries. Who has to pay the bills? The landlord who 
doesn't get the rent because the money goes for whisky; 
the butcher and the grocer and the charitable person who 
takes pity on the children of drunkards, and the taxpayer 
who supports the insane asylums and other institutions, 
that the whisky business keeps full of human wrecks* 


Do away with the cursed business and you will not have 
to put up to support them. Who gets the money? The 
saloon-keepers and the brewers, and the distillers, while 
the whisky fills the land with misery, and poverty, and 
wretchedness, and disease, and death, and damnation, and 
it is being authorized by the will of the sovereign people. 

You say that "people will drink anyway." Not by my 
vote. You say, "Men will murder their wives anyway." 
Not by my vote. "They will steal anyway," Not by my 
vote. You are the sovereign people, and what are you 
going to do about it? 

Let me assemble before your minds the bodies of the 
drunken dead, who crawl away "into the jaws of death, 
into the mouth of hell," and then out of the valley of the 
shadow of the drink let me call the appertaining mother 
hood, and wifehood, and childhood, and let their tears rain 
down upon their purple faces. Do you think that would 
stop the curse of the liquor traffic? No! No! 

In these days when the question of saloon or no saloon 
is at the fore in almost ^very community, one hears a good 
deal about what is called "personal liberty." These are 
fine, large, mouth-filling words, and they certainly do sound 
first rate; but when you get right down and analyze them 
in the light of common old horse-sense, you will discover 
that in their application to the present controversy they 
mean just about this : "Personal liberty " is for the man who, 
if he has the inclination and the price, can stand up at a bar 
and fill his hide so full of red liquor that he is transformed 
for the time being into an irresponsible, dangerous, evil- 
smelling brute. But "personal liberty" is not for his 
patient, long-suffering wife, who has to endure with what 
fortitude she may his blows and curses; nor is it for his 
children, who, if they escape his insane rage, are yet robbed 
of every known joy and privilege of childhood, and too often 
grow up neglected, imcared for and vicious as the result 
of their surroundings and the example before them. "Per 
sonal liberty" is not for the sober, industrious citizen who 


from the proceeds of honest toil and orderly living, has to 
pay, willingly or not, the tax bills which pile up as a direct 
result of drunkenness, disorder and poverty, the items 
of which are written in the records of every police court and 
poor-house in the land; nor is "personal liberty " for the good 
woman who goes abroad in the town only at the risk of being 
shot down by some drink-crazed creature. This rant about 
" personal liberty" as an argument has no leg to stand 

The Economic Side 

Now, in 1913 the corn crop was 2,373,000,000 bushels, 
and it was valued at $1,660,000,000. Secretary Wilson says 
that the breweries use less than two per cent; I will say that 
they use two per cent. That would make 47,000,000 
bushels, and at seventy cents a bushel that would be about 
$33,000,000. How many people are there in the United 
States? Ninety millions. Very well, then, that is thirty- 
six cents per capita. Then we sold out to the whisky 
business for thirty-six cents apiece the price of a dozen 
eggs or a pound of butter. We are the cheapest gang this 
side of hell if we will do that kind of business. 

Now listen! Last year the income of the United States 
government, and the cities and towns and counties, from the 
whisky business was $350,000,000. That is putting it 
liberally. You say that's a lot of money. Well, last year 
the workingmen spent $2,000,000,000 for drink, and it cost 
$1,200,000,000 to care for the judicial machinery. In other 
words, the whisky business cost us last year $3,400,000,000. 
I will subtract from that the dirty $350,000,000 which we 
got, and it leaves $3,050,000,000 in favor of knocking the 
whisky business out on purely a money basis. And listen! 
We spend $6,000,000,000 a year for our paupers and criminals 
insane, orphans, feeble-minded, etc., and eighty-two per 
cent of our criminals are whisky-made, and seventy-five 
per cent of the paupers are whisky-made. The average 
factory hand earns $450 a year, and it costs us $1,200 a year 


to support each of our whisky criminals. There are 326,000 
enrolled criminals in the United States and 80,000 in jails 
and penitentiaries. Three-fourths were sent there because 
of drink, and then they have the audacity to say the saloon 
is needed for money revenue. Never was there a baser lie. 
"But," says the whisky fellow, "we would lose trade; 
the farmer would not come to town to trade." You lie, 
I am a farmer. I was born and raised on a farm and I have 
the malodors of the barnyard on me today. Yes, sir. And 
when you say that you insult the best class of men on God's 
dirt. Say, when you put up the howl that if you don ? t 
have the saloons the farmer won't trade say, Mr. Whisky 
Man, why do you dump money into politics and back the 
legislatures into the corner and fight to the last ditch to 
prevent the enactment of county local option? You know 
if the farmers were given a chance they would knock the 
whisky business into hell the first throw out of the box. 
You are afraid. You have cold feet on the proposition. 
You are afraid to give the farmer a chance. They are scared 
to death of you farmers. 

I heard my friend ex-Governor Hanly, of Indiana, use 
the following illustrations : 

"Oh, but," they say, "Governor, there is another danger 
to the local option, because it means a loss of market to the 
farmer. We are consumers of large quantities of grain in 
the manufacture of our products. If you drive us out of 
business you strike down that market and it will create a 
money panic in this country, such as you have never seen, 
if you do that." I might answer it by saying that less than 
two per cent of the grain produced in this country is used for 
that purpose, but I pass that by. I want to debate the merit 
of the statement itself, and I think I can demonstrate in 
ten minutes to any thoughtful man, to any farmer, that the 
brewer who furnishes him a market for a bushel of corn is 
not his benefactor, or the benefactor of any man, from an 
economic standpoint. Let us see. A farmer brings to the 
brewer a bushel of corn. He finds a market for it. He 


gets fifty cents and goes Ms way, with the statement of the 
brewer ringing in Ms ears, that the brewer Is the benefactor. 
But you haven't got all the factors in the problem, Mr. 
Brewer, and you cannot get a correct solution of a problem 
without all the factors in the problem. You take the 
farmer's bushel of corn, brewer or distiller, and you brew 
and distill from it four and one-half gallons of spirits. I 
don't know how much he dilutes them before lie puts them 
on the market. Only the brewer, the distiller and God 
know. The man who drinks it doesn't, but if he doesn't 
dilute it at all, he puts on the market four and a half gaEons 
of intoxicating liquor, tMrty-six pints. I am not going 
to trace the tMrty-six pints. It will take too long. But 
I want to trace three of them and I will give you no 
imaginary stories plucked from the brain of an excited 
orator. I will take instances from the judicial pages of the 
Supreme Court and the Circuit Court judges' reports in 
Indiana and in Illinois to make my case. 

Tragedies Bom of Driak 

Several years ago in the city of CMcago a young man 
of good parents, good character, one Sunday crossed the 
street and entered a saloon, open against the law. He found 
there boon companions. There were laughter, song and 
jest and much drinking. After awMle, drunk, insanely 
drunk, Ms money gone, he was kicked into the street. He 
found Ms way across to Ms mother's home. He importuned 
her for money to buy more drink. She refused Mm. He 
seized from the sideboard a revolver and ran out into the 
street and with the expressed determination of entering the 
saloon and getting more drink, money or no money. His 
fond mother followed him into the street. She put her hand 
upon Mm in a loving restraint. He struck it from Mm in 
anger, and then Ms sister came and added her entreaty in 
vain. And then a neighbor, whom he knew, trusted and 
respected, came and put Ms hand on Mm in gentleness and 
friendly kindness^ but in an insanity of drunken rage he 


raised the revolver and shot Ms Mend dead in Ms blood 
upon the street. There was a trial; he was found guilty 
of murder. He was sentenced to life imprisonment, and 
when the little mother heard the verdict a frail little bit 
of a woman she threw up her hands and fell in a swoon. 
In three hours she was dead. 

In the streets of Freeport, Illinois, a young man of good 
family became involved in a controversy with a lewd 
woman of the town* He went in a drunken frenzy to Ms 
father's home, armed "himself with a deadly weapon and set 
out for the city in search of the woman with whom he had 
quarreled. The first person he met upon the public square 
in the city, in the daylight, in a place where she had a right 
to be, was one of the most refined and cultured women of 
Freeport. She carried in her arms her babe motherhood 
and babyhood, upon the streets of Freeport in the day time, 
where they had a right to be but this young man in Ms 
drunken insanity mistook her for the woman he sought and 
shot her dead upon the streets with her babe in her arms. 
He was tried and Judge Ferand, in sentencing him to life 
imprisonment said: "You are the seventh man in two years 
to be sentenced for murder while intoxicated." 

In the city of Anderson, you remember the tragedy in 
the Blake home. A young man came home intoxicated, 
demanding money of Ms mother. She refused it. He 
seized from the wood box a hatchet and killed his mother 
and then robbed her. You remember he fled. The officer 
of the law pursued him and brought him back. An indict 
ment was read to Mm charging him, with the murder of the 
mother who had given him Ms birth, of her who had gone 
down into the valley of the shadow of death to give Mm life, 
of her who had looked down into Ms blue eyes and thanked 
God for his life. And he said, "I am guilty; I did it all," 
And Judge McClure sentenced him to life imprisonment. 

Now I have followed probably three of the thirty-six 
pints of the farmer's product of a bushel of corn and the 
three of them have struck down seven lives, the three boys 


who committed the murders, the three persons who were 
killed and the little mother who died of a broken heart. 
And now, I want to know, my farmer friend, if this has been 
a good commercial transaction for you? You sold a bushel 
of corn; you found a market; you got fifty cents; but a 
fraction of this product struck down seven lives, all of whom 
would have been consumers of your products for their life 
expectancy. And do you mean to say that is a good eco 
nomic transaction to you? That disposes of the market 
question until it is answered; let no man argue further. 

More Economics 

And say, my friends, New York City's annual drink bill 
is $365,000,000 a year, $1,000,000 a day. Listen a minute. 
That is four times the annual output of gold, and six times 
the value of all the silver mined in the United States. And 
in New York there is one saloon for every thirty families. 
The money spent in New York by the working people for 
drink in ten years would buy every working man in New 
York a beautiful home, allowing $3,500 for house and lot. 
It would take fifty persons one year to count the money in 
$1 bills, and they would cover 10,000 acres of ground. That 
is what the people in New York dump into the whisky hole 
in one year. And then you wonder why there is poverty 
and crime, and that the country is not more prosperous. 

The whisky gang is circulating a circular about Kansas 
City, Kansas. I defy you to prove a statement in it. Kansas 
City is a town of 100,000 population, and temperance went 
into effect July 1, 1905. Then they had 250 saloons, 
200 gambling hells and 60 houses of ill fame. The popula 
tion was largely foreign, and inquiries have come from 
Germany, Sweden and Norway, asking the influence of 
the enforcement of the prohibitory law. 

At the end of one year the president of one of the largest 
banks in that city, a man who protested against the enforce 
ment of the prohibitory law on the ground that it would 
hurt business! found that his bank deposits had increased 


$1,700,000, and seventy-two per cent of the deposits were 
from men who had never saved a cent before, and forty-two 
per cent came from men who never had a dollar in the bank^ 
but because the saloons were driven out they had a chance 
to save, and the people who objected on the grounds that 
it would injure business found an increase of 209 per cent 
in building operations; and, furthermore, there were three 
times as many more people seeking investment, and court 
expenses decreased $25,000 in one year* 

Who pays to feed and keep the gang you have in jail? 
Why, you go down in your sock and pay for what the saloon 
has dumped in there. They don't do it. Mr. Whisky Man ? 
why don't you go down and take a picture of wrecked and 
blighted homes, and of insane asylums, with gibbering 
idiots. Why don't you take a picture of that? 

At Kansas City, Kansas, before the saloons were closed, 
they were getting ready to build an addition to the jaiL 
Now the doors swing idly on the hinges and there is nobody 
to lock in the jails. And the commissioner of the Poor 
Farm says there is a wonderful falling off of old men and 
women coming to the Poor House, because their sons and 
daughters are saving their money and have quit spending 
it for drink. And they had to employ eighteen new school 
teachers for 600 boys and girls, between the ages of twelve 
and eighteen, that had never gone to school before because 
they had to help a drunken father support the family. 
And they have just set aside $200,000 to build a new school 
house, and the bonded indebtedness was reduced $245,000 
in one year without the saloon revenue. And don't you 
know another thing: In 1906, when they had the saloon, 
the population, according to the directory, was 89,655. 
According to the census of 1907 the population was 100,835, or 
an increase of twelve per cent in one year, without the grog 
shop. In two years the bank deposits increased $3,930,000. 

You say, drive out the saloon and you kill business 
Hal ha! "Messed are the dead that die in the Lord." 

I tell you* gentlemen* the American home is the dearest 

BATTLING " n ' 97 

heritage of the people, for the people, and by the people, 
and when a man can go from home in the morning with the 
kisses of wife and children on his lips, and come back at 
night with an empty dinner bucket to a happy home, that 
man is a better man, whether white or black. Whatever 
takes away the comforts of home whatever degrades that 
man or woman whatever invades the sanctity of the home, 
is the deadliest foe to the home, to church, to state and school, 
and the saloon is the deadliest foe to the home, the church 
and the state, on top of God Almighty's dirt. And if all 
the combined forces of hell should assemble in conclave, 
and with them all the men on earth that hate and despise 
God, and purity, and virtue if all the scum of the earth 
could mingle with the denizens of hell to try to think of the 
deadliest institution to home, to church and state, I tell you, 
sir, the combined hellish intelligence could not conceive of 
or bring an institution that could touch the hem of the 
garment of the open licensed saloon to damn the home and 
manhood, and womanhood, and business and every other 
good thing on God's earth. 

In the Island of Jamaica the rats increased so that they 
destroyed the crops, and they introduced a mongoose, which 
is a species of the coon. They have three breeding seasons 
a year and there are twelve to fifteen in each brood, and they 
are deadly enemies of the rats. The result was that the rats 
disappeared and there was nothing more for the mongoose 
to feed upon, so they attacked the snakes, and the frogs, 
and the lizards that fed upon the insects, with the result 
that the insects increased and they stripped the gardens, 
eating up the onions and the lettuce and then the mongoose 
attacked the sheep and the cats, and the puppies, and the 
calves and the geese. Now Jamaica is spending hundreds 
of thousands of dollars to get rid of the mongoose* 

The American Mongoose 

The American mongoose is the open licensed saloon* 
It eats the carpets off the floor i*nd the clothes from off 


your back, your money out of the bank, and it eats tip 
character, and it goes on until at last it leaves a stranded 
wreck in the home* a skeleton of what was once brightness 
and happiness- 

There were some men playing cards on a railroad train, 
and one fellow pulled out a whisky flask and passed it about, 
and when it came to the drummer he said, " No." " What/ 1 
they said, "have you got on the water wagon?" and they all 
laughed at him. He said, "You can laugh if you want to, 
but I was born with an appetite for drink, and for years I 
have taken from five to ten glasses per day, but I was at 
home in Chicago not long ago and I have a friend who has 
a pawn shop there. I was in there when in came a young 
fellow with ashen cheeks and a wild look on his face. He 
came up trembling, threw down a little package and said, 
'Give me ten cents. 7 And what do you think was in that 
package? It was a pair of baby shoes. 

"My friend said, 'No, I cannot take them/ 
" * But/ he said, ' give me a dime, I must have a drink/ 
" 'No, take them back home, your baby will need them.' 
"And the poor fellow said, 'My baby is dead, and I want 
a drink.' " 

Boys, I don't blame you for the lump that comes up in 
your throat. There is no law, divine or human, that the 
saloon respects. Lincoln said, "If slavery is not wrong, 
nothing is wrong." I say, if the saloon, with its train of 
diseases, crime and misery, is not wrong, then nothing on 
earth is wrong. If the fight is to be won we need men 
men that will fight the Church, Catholic and Protestant, 
must fight it or run away, and thank God she will not run 
away, but fight to the last ditch. 

Who works the hardest for his money, the saloon man 
or you? 

Who has the most money Sunday morning, the saloon 
man or you? 

The saloon comes as near being a rat hole for a wage* 
earner to dump Ms wages in as anything you can find. 


The only interest it pays is red eyes and foul breath, and the 
loss of health. You can go in with money and you come out 
with empty pockets. You go in with character and you 
come out ruined. You go in with a good position and you 
lose it. You lose your position in the bank, or in the cab 
of the locomotive. And it pays nothing back but disease 
and damnation and gives an extra dividend in delirium 
tremens and a free pass to heU. And then it will let your 
wife be buried in the potter's field, and your children go to 
the asylum, and yet you walk out and say the saloon is a 
good institution, when it is the dirtiest thing on earth. It 
hasn't one leg to stand on and has nothing to commend it to 
a decent man, not one thing. 

"But," you say, "we will regulate it by high license." 
Regulate what by high license? You might as well try and 
regulate a powder mill in hell. Do you want to pay taxes 
in boys, or dirty money? A man that will sell out to that 
dirty business I have no use for. See how absurd their argu 
ments are. If you drink Bourbon in a saloon that pays 
$1,000 a year license, will it eat your stomach less than if 
you drink it in a saloon that pays $500 license? Is it going 
to have any different effect on you, whether the gang pays 
$500 or $1,000 license? No. It will make no difference 
whether you drink it over a mahogany counter or a pine 
counter it will have the same effect on you; it will damn 
you. So there is no use talking about it. 

In some insane asylums, do you know what they do? 
When they want to test some patient to see whether he has 
recovered his reason, they have a room with a faucet in it, 
and a cement floor, and they give the patient a mop and tell 
him to mop up the floor. And if he has sense enough to 
turn off the faucet and mop up the floor they will parole him, 
but should he let the faucet run, they know that he is crazy. 

Well, that is what you are trying to do. You are^ trying 
to mop it up with taxes and insane asylums and jails and 
Keeley cures, and reformatories. The only thing to do is 
to shut off the source of supply. 

A man was delivering a temperance address at a 



fair grounds and a fellow came up to him and said: "Are 
you the fellow that gave a talk on temperance?" 

"Well, I think that the managers did a dirty piece of 
business to let you give a lecture on temperance. You have 
hurt my business and my business is a legal one," 

"You are right there," said the lecturer, "they did do a 
mean trick; I would complain to the officers." And he 
took up a premium list and said: "By the way, I see there 

is a premium of so 
much offered for the 
best horse and cow 
and butter. What 
business are you in?" 
"Fm in the liquor 

"Well, I don't see 
that they offer any pre 
mium for your busi* 
ness. You ought to" 
go down and compel 
them to offer a pre^ 
mium for your busi 
ness and they ought to 
offer on the list $25 

for the best wrecked home, $15 for the best bloated bum 
that you can show, and $10 for the finest specimen of 
broken-hearted wife, and they ought to give $25 for the finest 
specimens of thieves and gamblers you can trot out. You 
can bring out the finest looking criminals. If you have 
something that is good trot it out. You ought to come in 
competition with the farmer, with his stock, and the fancy 
work, and the canned fruit." 

The Saloon a Coward 

As Dr. Howard said: "I tell you that the saloon is a 
coward. It hides itself behind stained-glass doors and 




opaque windows, and sneaks Its customers In at a blind door, 
and it keeps a sentinel to guard the door from the officers of 
the law, and it marks its wares with false bills-of-lading, 
and offers to ship green goods to you and marks them with 
the name of wholesome articles of food so people won't 
know what is being sent to you. And so vile did that busi 
ness get that the legislature of Indiana passed a law forbid 
ding a saloon to ship goods without being properly labeled. 
And the United States Congress passed a law forbidding 
them to send whisky through the mails. 

I tell you it strikes in the night. It fights under cover 
of darkness and assassinates the characters that it cannot 
damn, and it lies about you. It attacks defenseless woman 
hood and childhood. The saloon is a coward. It is a thief; 
it is not an ordinary court offender that steals your money, 
but it robs you of manhood and leaves you in rags and takes 
away your friends, and it robs your family. It impoverishes 
your children and it brings insanity and suicide. It will 
take the shirt off your back and it will steal the coffin from 
a dead child and yank the last crust of bread out of the hand 
of the starving child; it will take the last bucket of coal out 
of your cellar, and the last cent out of your pocket, and will 
send you home bleary-eyed and staggering to your wife~ 
and children. It will steal the milk from the breast of the 
mother and leave her with nothing with which to feed her 
infant. It will take the virtue from your daughter. It is 
the dirtiest, most low-down, damnable business that ever 
crawled out of the pit of hell. It is a sneak, and a thief and 
a coward. 

It is an infidel. It has no faith in God; has no religion. 
It would close every church in the land. It would hang its 
beer signs on the abandoned altars. It would close every 
public school. It respects the thief and it esteems the 
blasphemer; it fills the prisons and the penitentiaries. It 
despises heaven, hates love, scorns virtue. It tempts the 
passions. Its music is the song of a siren. Its sermons 
are a collection of lewd, vile stories. It wraps a mantle 


about the hope of this world and that to come. Its tables 
are full of the vilest literature. It is the moral clearing house 
for rot, and damnation, and poverty, and insanity, and it 
wrecks homes and blights lives today, 

God's Worst Enemy 

The saloon is a liar. It promises good cheer and 
sends sorrow. It promises health and causes disease. It 
promises prosperity and sends adversity. It promises hap 
piness and sends misery. Yes, it sends the husband home 
with a lie on his lips to his wife; and the boy home with 
a lie on his lips to his mother; and it causes the employee 
to lie to his employer. It degrades. It is God's worst 
enemy and the devil's best friend. It spares neither youth 
nor old age. It is waiting with a dirty blanket for the 
baby to crawl into the world. It lies in wait for the unborn. 

It cocks the highwayman's pistol. It puts the rope 
in the hands of the mob. It is the anarchist of the world 
and its dirty red flag is dyed with the blood of women and 
children. It sent the bullet through the body of Lincoln; 
it nerved the arm that sent the bullets through Garfield and 
William McKinley. Yes, it is a murderer. Every plot 
that was ever hatched against the government and law, was 
born and bred, and crawled out of the grog-shop to damn 
this country. 

I tell you that the curse of God Almighty is on the 
saloon. Legislatures are legislating against it. Decent 
society is barring it out. The fraternal brotherhoods are 
knocking it out. The Masons and Odd Fellows, and the 
Knights of Pythias and the A. O. U. W. are closing then- 
doors to the whisky sellers. They don't want you wriggling 
your carcass in their lodges. Yes, sir, I tell you, the curse 
of God is on it. It is on the down grade. It is headed for 
hell, and, by the grace of God, I am going to give it a push, 
with a whoop, for all I know how. Listen to me I I am going 
to show you how we burn up our money. It costs twenty 
cents to make a gallon of whisky; sold over the counter at 
ten cents a glass, it will bring four dollars* 


"But/ 9 said the saloon-keeper, "Bill, you must figure 
on the strychnine and the cochineal, and other stuff they 
put in it, and it will bring nearer eight dollars." 

Yes; it increases the heart beat thirty times more in a 
minute, when you consider the licorice and potash and log 
wood and other poisons that are put in. I believe one cause 
for the unprecedented increase of crime is due to the poisou 
put in the stuff nowadays to make it go as far as they can. 

I am indebted to my friend, George B. Stuart, for some 
of the following points: 

I will show you how your money is burned up. It 
costs twenty cents to make a gallon of whisky, sold over 
the counter at ten cents a glass, which brings four dollars, 
Listen, where does it go? Who gets the twenty cents? The 
farmer for his corn or rye. Who gets the rest? The United 
States government for collecting revenue, and the big corpo*- 
rations, and part is used to pave our streets and pay our 
police. I'll show you. I'm going to show you how it ia 
burned up, and you don't need half sense to catch on, and 
if you don't understand just keep still and nobody will 
know the difference. 

I say, "Hey, Colonel Politics, what is the matter witk 
the country?" 

He swells up like a poisoned pup and says to me, "Bill, 
why the silver bugbear. That's what is the matter with 
the country." 

The total value of the silver produced in this country 
in 1912 was $39,000,000. Hear me! In 1912 the total 
value of the gold produced in this country was $93,000,000, 
and we dumped thirty-six times that much in the whisky 
hole and didn't fill it. What is the matter? The total 
value of air the gold and silver produced in 1912 was 
$132,000,000*, and we dumped twenty-five times that 
amount in the whisky hole and didn't fill it. 

What is the matter with the country, Colonel Politics? 
He swells up and says, "Mr. Sunday, Standpatism, sir." 

I say, "You are an old windbag." 


"Oh," says another, "revision of the tariff." Another 
man says, "Free trade; open the doors at the ports and let 
them pour the products in and we will put the trusts on the 

Say, you come with me to every port of entry. Listen ! 
In 1912 the total value of all the imports was $1,812,000,000, 
and we dumped that much In the whisky hole in twelve 
months and did not fill it. 

"Oh," says a man, "let us court South America and 
Europe to sell our products. That's what is the matter; 
we are not exporting enough." 

Last year the total value of all the exports was $2,362,- 
000,000, and we dumped that amount in the whisky hole in 
one year and didn't fill it- 
One time I was down in Washington and went to the 
United States treasury and said: "I wish you would let 
me go where you don't let the general public." And they 
took us around on the inside and we walked into a room about 
twenty feet long and fifteen feet wide and as many feet high, 
and I said, "What is this?" 

"This is the vault that contains all of the national bank 
stock in the United States." 

I said, "How much is here?" 

They said, "$578,000,000." 

And we dumped nearly four times the value of the 
national bank stock in the United States into the whisky 
hole last year, and we didn't fill the hole up at that. What 
is the matter? Say, whenever the day comes that all the 
Catholic and Protestant churches just when the day comes 
when you will say to the whisky business: "You go to hell," 
that day the whisky business will go to hell. But you sit 
there, you old whisky-voting elder and deacon and vestry 
man, and you wouldn't strike your hands together on the 
proposition c It would stamp you an old hypocrite and you 
know it. 

Say, hold on a bit. Have you got a silver dollar? 
I am going to show you how it is burned up. We have in 


fchis country 250,000 saloons, and allowing fifty feet frontage 
for each, saloon it makes a street from New York to Chicago, 
and 5,000,000 men, women and' children go daily into the 
saloon for drink. And marching twenty miles a day it 
would take thirty days to pass this building, and marching 
five abreast they would reach 590 miles. There they go; 
look at them! 

On the first day of January, 500,000 of the young men 
of our nation entered the grog-shop and began a public 
career hellward, and on the 31st of December I will come 
back here and summon you people, and ring the bell and 
raise the curtain and say to the saloon and breweries: "On 
the fij-st day of January, I gave you 500,000 of the brain and 
muscle of our land, and I want them back and have come in 
the name of the liome and churchi and school; father 
mother, sister, sweetheart; give me back what I gave you. 
March out." 

I count, and 165,000 have lost their appetites and have 
become muttering, bleary-eyed drunkards, wallowing in 
their own excrement, and I say, " What is it I hear, a funeral 
dirge?" What is that procession? A funeral procession 
3,000 miles long and 110,000 hearses in the procession. One 
hundred and ten thousand men die drunkards in the land of 
the free and home of the brave. Listen ! In an hour twelve 
men die drunkards, 300 a day and 110,000 a year. One 
man will leap in front of a train, another will plunge from 
the dock into a lake, another will throw his hands to his 
head and life will end. Another will cry, "Mother," and 
his life will go out like a burnt match. 

I stand in front of the jails and count the whisky 
criminals. They say, "Yes, Bill, I fired the bullet." 
"Yes, I backed my wife into the corner and beat her life 
out. I am waiting for the scaffold; I am waiting." "I 
am waiting," says another, "to slip into hell." On, on, it 
goes. Say, let me summon the wif ehood, and the mother 
hood, and the childhood and see the tears rain down the 
upturned faces. People, tears are too weak for that hellish 


business. Tears are only salty backwater that well up at 
the bidding of an occult power, and I will tell you there 
are 865,000 whisky orphan children in the United States, 
enough in the world to belt the globe three times around, 
punctured at every fifth point by a drunkard's widow. 

Like Hamilcar of old, who swore young Hannibal to 
eternal enmity against Rome, so I propose to perpetuate 
this feud against the liquor traffic until the white-winged 
dove of temperance builds her nest on the dome of the capitol 
of Washington and spreads her wings of peace, sobriety and 
joy over our land which I love with all my heart 

What Will a Dollar Buy? 

I hold a silver dollar in my hand. Come on, we are 
going to a saloon. We will go into a saloon and spend 
that dollar for a quart. It takes twenty cents to make a 
gallon of whisky and a dollar will buy a quart. You say to 
the saloon-keeper, "Give me a quart." I will show you, if 
you wait a minute, how she is burned up. Here I am John, 
an old drunken bum, with a wife and six kids. (Thank 
God, it's all a lie.) Come on, I will go down to a saloon 
and throw down my dollar. It costs twenty cents to make 
a gallon of whisky. A nickel will make a quart. My 
dollar will buy a quart of booze. Who gets the nickel? 
The farmer, for corn and apples. Who gets the ninety-five 
cents? The United States government, the big distillers, 
the big corporations. I am John, a drunken bum, and I 
will spend my dollar. I have worked a week and got my 
pay. I go into a grog-shop and throw down my dollar. 
The saloon-keeper gets my dollar and I get a quart of booze. 
Come home with me. I stagger, and reel, and spew in my 
wife's presence, and she says: 

"Hello, John, what did you bring home?" 

"A quart." 

What will a quart do? It will burn up my happiness 
and my home and fill my home with squalor and want. 
So there is the dollar. The saloon-keeper has it. Here is 


my quart. There yon get the whisky end of it. Here you 
get the workingman's end of the saloon. 

But come on; I will go to a store and spend the dollar 
for a pair of shoes* I want them for my son, and he puts 
them on his feet, and with the shoes to protect his feet he 
goes out and earns another dollar, and my dollar becomes a 
silver thread in the woof and warp of happiness and joy, 
and the man that owns the building gets some, and the clerk 
that sold the shoes gets some, and the merchant, and the 
traveling man, and the wholesale house gets some, and the 
factory, and the man that made the shoes, and the man that 
tanned the hide, and the butcher that bought the calf, and 
the little colored fellow that shined the shoes, and my dollar 
spread itself and nobody is made worse for spending the 

I join the Booster Club for business and prosperity. 
A man said, "I will tell you what is the matter with the 
country: it's over-production." You lie, it is undercon 

Say, wife, the bread that ought to be in your stomach 
to satisfy the cravings of hunger is down yonder in the 
grocery store, and your husband hasn't money enough to 
carry it home. The meat that ought to satisfy your hunger 
hangs in the butcher shop. Your husband hasn't any money 
to buy it. The cloth for a dress is lying on the shelf in the 
store, but your husband hasn't the money to buy it. The 
whisky gang has his money. 

What is the matter with our country? I would like 
to do this. I would like to see every booze-fighter get on 
the water wagon. I would like to summon all the drunkards 
in America and say: "Boys, let's cut her out and spend the 
money for flour, meat and calico; what do you say?" 
Say! $500,000,000 will buy all the flour in the United 
States; $500,000,000 will buy all the beef cattle, and 
$500,000,000 will buy all the cotton at $50 a bale. But we 
dumped more money than that in the whisky hole last year, 
and we didn't filHt. Come on; I'm going to line up the 


drunkards. Everybody fall in. Come on, ready, forward, 
march. Right, left, here I come with all the drunkards. 
We will line up in front of a butcher shop. The butcher 
says, "What do you want, a piece of neck?" 

"No; how 'much do I owe you?" "Three dollars." 
"Here's your dough. Now give me a porterhouse steak 
and a sirloin roast." 

"Where did you get all that money?" 

"Went to hear BiU and climbed on the water wagon." 

" Hello I What do you want?" 


"What do you want?" 


We empty the shop and the butcher runs to the tele 
phone. "Hey, Central, give me the slaughter house. 
Have you got any beef, any pork, any mutton?" 

They strip the slaughter house, and then telephone to 
Swift, and Armour, and Nelson Morris, and Cudahy, to 
send down trainloads of beefsteaks. 

"The whole bunch has got on the water wagon." 

And Swift and the other big packers in Chicago say 
to their salesmen: "Buy beef, pork and mutton." 

The farmer sees the price of cattle and sheep jump up 
to three times their value. Let me take the money you 
dump into the whisky hole and buy beefsteaks with it. I 
will show what is the matter with America. I think the 
liquor business is the dirtiest, rottenest business this side 
of hell. 

Come on, are you ready? Fall in! We line up in front 
of a grocery store. 

"What do you want?" 

"Why, I want flour." 

"What do you want?" 


"What do you want?" 


"Pillsbury, Minneapolis, ' Sleepy Eye'?" 


"Yes, ship in trainloads of flour; send on fast mail 
schedule, with an engine in front, one behind and a Mogul 
in the middle." 

" What's the matter ?" 

"Why, the workingmen have stopped spending theii 
money for booze and have begun to buy flour." 

The big mills tell their men to buy wheat and the 
farmers see the price jump to over $2 per bushel. What's 
the matter with the country? Why, the whisky gang has 
your money and you have an empty stomach, and yet you 
will walk up and vote for the dirty booze. 

Come on, cut out the booze, boys. Get on the water 
wagon; get on for the sake of your wife and babies, and 
hit the booze a blow. 

Come on, ready, forward, march! Right, left, halt! 
We are in front of a dry goods store. 

"What do you want?" 


"What do you want?" 


"What do you want?" 


"Calico; all right, come on." The stores are stripped. 

Marshall Field, Carson, Pirie, Scott & Co., J. V. Farrell, 
send down calico. The whole bunch has voted out the 
saloons and we have such a demand for calico we don't 
know what to do. And the big stores telegraph to Fall 
River to ship calico, and the factories telegraph to buy 
cotton, and they tell their salesmen to buy cotton, and the 
cotton plantation man sees cotton jump up to $150 a bale. 

What is the matter? Your children are going naked and 
the whisky gang has got your money. That's what's the 
matter with you. Don't listen to those old whisky-soaked 
politicians who say "stand pat on the saloon." 

Come with me. Now, remember, we have the whole 
bunch of booze fighters on the water wagon, and I'm going 
home now. Over there I was John, the drunken bum* 


The whisky gang got my dollar and I got the quart* Over 
here I am John on the water wagon. The merchant got my 
dollar and I have Ms meat, flour and calico, and I'm going 
home now. "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like 
home without booze." 

Wife comes out and says, " Hello, John, what have you 

"Two porterhouse steaks, Sally," 

"What's that bundle, Pa?" 

"Clothes to make you a new dress, Sis. Your mother 
has fixed your old one so often, it looks like a crazy quilt." 

"And what have you there?" 

"That's a pair of shoes for you, Tom; and here is some 
cloth to make you a pair of pants. Your mother has 
patched the old ones so often, they look like the map of 
United States." 

What's the matter with the country? We have been 
dumping into the whisky hole the money that ought to have 
been spent for flour, beef and calico, and we haven't the 
hole filled up yet. 

A man comes along and says: "Are you a drunkard?" 

"Yes, I'm a drunkard." 

"Where are you going?" 

"I am going to hell." 


"Because the Good Book says: 'No drunkard shaU 
inherit the kingdom of God/ so I am going to hell." 

Another man comes along and I say: "Are you a 
church member?" 

"Yes, I am a church member." 

"Where are you going?" 

"I am going to heaven." 

"Did you vote for the saloon?" 

"Yes." _ 

"Then you shall go to hell." 

Say, if the man that drinks the whisky goes to hell, 
the man that votes for the saloon that sold the whisky to 


Him will go to hell. If the man that drinks the whisky goes 
to hell, and the man that sold the whisky to the men that 
drank it, goes to heaven, then the poor drunkard will have 
the right to stand on the brink of eternal damnation and put 
his arms around the pillar of justice, shake his fist in the 
face of the Almighty and say, " Unjust! Unjust!" If you 
vote for the dirty business you ought to go to hell as sure as 
you live, and I would like to fire the furnace while you are 

Some fellow says, "Drive the saloon out and the build 
ings will be empty." Which would you rather have, empty 
buildings or empty jails, penitentiaries and insane asylums? 
You drink the stuff and what have you to say? You that 
vote for it, and you that sell it? Look at them painted on 
the canvas of your recollection. 

The Gin Mill 

What is the matter with this grand old country? I 
heard my friend, George Stuart, tell how he imagined that 
he walked up to a mill and said: 

"Hello, there, what kind of a mill are you?" 

"A sawmill." 

"And what do you make?" 

"We make boards out of logs/ 7 

"Is the finished product worth more than the raw 


"We will make laws for you. We must have lumber for 

He goes up to another mill and says: 

"Hey, what kind of a mill are you?" 

"A grist mill." 

"What do you make?" 

"Flour and meal out of wheat and corn." 

"Is the finished product worth more than the raw 



"Then come on. We will make laws for you. We will 
protect you." 

He goes up to another mill and says: 

" What kind of a mill are you?" 

"A paper mill." 

"What do you make paper out of?" 

"Straw and rags." 

"Well, we will make laws for you. We must have 
paper on which to write notes and mortgages." 

He goes up to another mill and says: 

"Hey, what kind of a mill are you?" 

"A gin mill" 

"I don't like the looks nor the smell of you. A gin 
mill; what do you make? What kind of a mill are you?" 

"A gin mill." 

"What is your raw material?" 

"The boys of America." 

The gin mills of this country must have 2,000,000 boys 
or shut up shop. Say, walk down your streets, count the 
homes and every fifth home has to furnish a boy for a 
drunkard. Have you furnished yours? No, Then I 
have to furnish two to make up. 

"What is your raw material?" 

"American boys." 

"Then I will pick up the boys and give them to you." 

A man says, "Hold on, not that boy, he is mine." 

Then I will say to you what a saloon-keeper said to me 
when I protested, "I am not interested in boys; to hell 
with your boys." 

"Say, saloon gin mill, what is your finished product?" 

"Bleary-eyed, low-down, staggering men and the 
scum of God's dirt." 

Go to the jails, go to the insane asylums and the peni 
tentiaries, and the homes for feeble-minded. There you 
will find the finished product for their dirty business. I 
tell you it is the worst business this side of hell, and you 
know it. 


Listen! Here is an extract from the Saturday Evening 
Post of November 9, 1907, taken from a paper read by a 
brewer. You will say that a man didn't say it : " It appears 
from these facts that the success of our business lies in the 
creation of appetite among the boys. Men who have formed 
the habit scarcely ever reform, but they, like others, will die, 
and unless there are recruits made to take their places, our 
coffers will be empty, and I recommend to you that money 
spent in the creation of appetite will return in dollars to 
your tills after the habit is formed." 

What is your raw material, saloons? American boys. 
Say, I would not give one boy for all the distilleries and 
saloons this side of hell. And they have to have 2,000,000 
boys every generation. And then you tell me you are a 
man when you will vote for an institution like that. What 
do you want to do, pay taxes in money or in boys? 

I feel like an old fellow in Tennessee who made his 
living by catching rattlesnakes. He caught one with 
fourteen rattles and put it in a box with a glass top. One 
day when he was sawing wood his little five-year old boy, 
Jim, took the lid off and the rattler wriggled out and struck 
him in the cheek. He ran to his father and said, "The 
rattler has bit me." The father ran and chopped the rattler 
to pieces, and with his jack-knife he cut a chunk from the 
boy's cheek and then sucked and sucked at the wound to 
draw out the poison. He looked at little Jim, watched the 
pupils of his eyes dilate and watched him swell to three times 
his normal size, watched his lips become parched and 
cracked, and eyes roll, and little Jim gasped and died. 

The father took him in his arms, carried him over by 
the side of the rattler, got on his knees and said, "O God, 
I would not give little Jim for all k the rattlers that ever 
crawled over the Blue Ridge mountains." 

And I would not give one boy for every dirty dollar 
you get from the hell-soaked liquor business or from every 
brewery and distillery this side of hell. 

In a Northwest city a preacher sat at his breakfast 


table one Sunday morning. The door-bell rang; he answered 
it; and there stood a little boy, twelve years of age. He was 
on crutches, right leg off at the knee, shivering, and he said, 
"Please, sir, will you come up to the jail and talk and pray 
with papa? He murdered mamma. Papa was good and 
kind, but whisky did it, and I have to support my three little 
sisters. I sell newspapers and black boots. Will you go up 
and talk and pray with papa? And will you come home and 
be with us when they bring him back? The governor says 
we can have his body after they hang him." 

The preacher hurried to the jail and talked and prayed 
with the man. He had no knowledge of what he had done. 
He said, "I don't blame the law, but it breaks my heart to 
think that my children must be left in a cold and heartless 
world. Oh, sir, whisky did it." 

The preacher was at the little hut when up drove the 
undertaker's wagon and they carried out the pine coffin. 
They led the little boy up to the coffin, he leaned over and 
kissed his father and sobbed, and said to his sister, "Come 
on, sister, kiss papa's cheeks before they grow cold." And 
the little hungry, ragged, whisky orphans hurried to the 
coffin, shrieking in agony. Police, whose hearts were 
adamant, buried their faces in their hands and rushed from 
the house, and the preacher fell on his knees and lifted his 
clenched fist and tear-stained face and took an oath before 
God, and before the whisky orphans, that he would fight 
the cursed business until the undertaker carried him out in 
a coffin. 

A Chance for Manhood 

You men have a chance to show your manhood. Then 
in the name of your pure mother, in the name of your man 
hood, in the name of your wife and the poor innocent 
children that climb up on your lap and put their arms around 
your neck, in the name of all that is good and noble, fight 
the curse. Shall you men, who hold in your hands the ballot, 
and in that ballot hold the destiny of womanhood and child- 


hood and manhood, shall you, the sovereign power, refuse 
to rally in the name of the defenseless men and women and 
native land? No. 

I want every man to say, "God, you can count on me 
to protect my wife, my home, my mother and my children 
and the manhood of America." 

By the mercy of God, which has given to you the un 
shaken and unshakable confidence of her you love, I beseech 
you, make a fight for the women who wait until the saloons 
spew out their husbands and their sons, and send them home 
maudlin, brutish, devilish, stinking, blear-eyed, bloated- 
faced drunkards. 

You say you can't prohibit men from drinking. Why, 
if Jesus Christ were here today some of you would keep on 
in sin just the same. But the law can be enforced against 
whisky just the same as it can be enforced against anything 
else, if you have honest officials to enforce it. Of course 
it doesn't prohibit. There isn't a law on the books of the 
state that prohibits. We have laws against murder. Do 
they prohibit? We have laws against burglary. Do they 
prohibit? We have laws against arson, rape, but they do 
not prohibit. Would you introduce a bill to repeal all the 
laws that do not prohibit? Any law will prohibit to a certain 
extent if honest officials enforce it. But no law will abso 
lutely prohibit. We can make a law against liquor prohibit 
as much as any law prohibits. 

Or would you introduce a bill saying, if you pay $1,000 
a year you can kill any one you don't like; or by paying 
$500 a year you can attack any girl you want to; or by 
paying $100 a year you can steal anything that suits you? 
That's what you do with the dirtiest, rottenest gang this 
side of hell. You say for so much a year you can have a 
license to make staggering, reeling, drunken sots, murderers 
and thieves and vagabonds.- You say, "Bill, you're too 
hard on the whisky/' I don't agree. Not on your life. 
There was a fellow going along the pike and a farmer's 
dog ran snapping at him. He tried to drive it back with a 


pitchfork he carried, and failing to do so he pinned it to the 
ground with the prongs. Out came the farmer: "Hey, 

why don't you use the other end of that fork?" He answered 

"Why didn't the, dog come at me with the other end?" 

Personal Liberty 

Personal liberty is not personal license. I dare not 
exercise personal liberty if it infringes on the liberty of 
others. Our forefathers did not fight and die for personal 
license but for personal liberty bounded by laws. Personal 
liberty is the liberty of a murderer, a burglar, a seducer, 
or a wolf that wants to remain in a sheep fold, or the weasel 
in a hen roost. You have no right to vote for an institution 
that is going to drag your sons and daughters to hell. 

If you were the only persons in this city you would 
have a perfect right to drive your horse down the street at 
breakneck speed; you would have a right to make a race 
track out of the streets for your auto; you could build a 
slaughter house in the public square; you could build 
a glue factory in the public square. But when the popula 
tion increases from one to 600,000 you can't do it. You 
say, "Why can't I run my auto? I own it. Why can't 
I run my horse? I own it. Why can't I build the slaughter 
house? I own the lot." Yes, but there are 600,000 people 
here now and other people have rights. 

So law stands between you and personal liberty, you 
miserable dog. You can't build a slaughter house in your 
front yard, because the law says you can't. As long as 
I am standing here on this platform I have personal liberty. 
I can swing my arms at will. But the minute any one else 
steps on the platform my personal liberty ceases. It stops 
just one inch from the other fellow's nose. 

When you come staggering home, cussing right and left 
and spewing and spitting, your wife suffers, your children 
suffer. Don't think that you are the only one that suffers. 
A man that goes to the penitentiary makes his wife and 
children suffer just as much as he does. You're placing 


a shame on your wife and children. If you're a dirty, low- 
down, filthy, drunken, whisky-soaked bum you'll affect all 
with whom you come in contact. If you're a God-fearing 
man you will influence all with whom you come in contact. 
You can't live by yourself. 

I occasionally hear a man say, a lt's nobody's business 
how I live." Then I say he is the most dirty, low-down, 
whisky-soaked, beer-guzzling, bull-necked, foul-mouthed 
hypocrite that ever had a brain rotten enough to conceive 
such a statement and lips vile enough to utter it. You say, 
"If I am satisfied with my life why do you want to interfere 
with my business?" 

If I heard a man beating his wife and heard her shrieks 
and the children's cries and my wife would tell me to go and 
see what was the matter, and I went in and found a great, 
big, broad-shouldered, whisky-soaked, hog-jowled, weasel- 
eyed brute dragging a little woman around by the hair, 
and two children in the corner unconscious from his kicks 
and the others yelling in abject terror, and he said, "What 
are you coming in to interfere with my personal liberty for? 
Isn't this my wife, didn't I pay for the license to wed her?" 
You ought, or you're a bigamist. " Aren't these my chil 
dren; didn't I pay the doctor to bring them into the world?" 
You ought to, or you're a thief. "If I want to beat them, 
what is that your business, aren't they "mine?" Would I 
apologize? Never! I'd knock seven kinds of pork out of 
that old hog. 

The Moderate Drinker 

I remember when I was secretary of the Y. M. C. A. 
in Chicago, I had the saloon route. I had to go around and 
give tickets inviting men to come to the Y. M. C. A. services. 
And one day I was told to count the men going into a certain 
saloon. Not the ones already in, but just those going in. 
In sixty-two minutes I could count just 1,004 men going in 
there. I went in then and met a fellow who used to be my 
side-kicker out in Iowa, and he threw down a mint julep 
While I stood there, and I asked him what he was doing. 


" Oh, just come down to the theater/ 7 he said, "and came 
over for a drink between acts." 

"Why, you are three sheets in the wind now/' I said> 
and then an old drunken bum, with a little threadbare 
coat, a straw hat, no vest, pants torn, toes sticking out 
through his torn shoes/and several weeks' growth of beard 
on his face, came in and said to the bartender: "For God's 
sake, can't you give an old bum a drink of whisky to warm 
up on?" and the bartender poured him out a big glass and 
he gulped it down. He pulled his hat down and slouched 

I said to my friend, "George, do you see that old drunken 
bum, down and out? There was a time when he was just 
like you. No drunkard ever intended to be a drunkard. 
Every drunkard intended to be a moderate drinker." 

"Oh, you're unduly excited over my welfare," he said. 
"I never expect to get that far." 

"Neither did that bum," I answered. I was standing 
on another corner less than eight months afterward and J 
saw a bum coining along with head down, his eyes bloodshot, 
his face bloated, and he panhandled me for a flapjack before 
I recognized him. It was George. He had lost his job and 
was on the toboggan slide hitting it for hell. I say if sin 
weren't so deceitful it wouldn't be so attractive. Every 
added drink makes it harder. 

Some just live for booze. Some say, "I need it. It 
keeps me warm in winter." Another says, "It keeps me 
cool in summer." Well, if it keeps you warm in winter and 
cool in summer, why is it that out of those who freeze to 
death and are sun-struck the greater part of them are booze- 
hoisters? Every one takes it for the alcohol there is in it. 
Take that out and you would as soon drink dish water, 

I can buy a can of good beef extract and dip the point 
of my knife in the can and get more nourishment on the 
point of that knife than in 800 gallons of the best beer. 
If the brewers of this land today were making their beer in 
Germany, ninety per cent of them would be in jail. The 


extract on the point of the knife represents one and three- 
quarter pounds of good beefsteak. Just think, you have 
to make a swill barrel out of your bellies and a sewer if you 
want to get that much nourishment out of beer and run 
800 gallons through. Oh, go ahead, if you want to, but 111 
try to help you just the same. 

Every man has blood corpuscles and their object is to 
take the impurities out of your system. Perspiration is 
for the same thing. Every time you work or I preach the 
impurities come out. Every time you sweat there is a 
destroying power going on inside. The blood goes through 
the heart every seventeen seconds. Oh, we have a marvel 
ous system. In some spots there are 4,000 pores to the 
square inch and a grain of sand will cover 160 of them. 
I can strip you and cover you with shellac and you'll be 
dead in forty-eight hours. Oh, we are fearfully and wonder 
fully made. 

What Booze Does to the System 

Alcohol knocks the blood corpuscles out of business 
so that it takes eight to ten to do what one ought to do. 
There's a man who drinks. Here's a fellow who drives a 
beer wagon. Look how pussy he is. He's full of rotten 
tissue. He says he's healthy. Smell his breath. You 
punch your finger in that healthy flesh he talks about and 
the dent will be there a half an hour afterwards. You look 
like you don't believe it. Try it when you go to bed tonight. 
Pneumonia has a first mortgage on a booze-hoister. 

Take a fellow with good, healthy muscles, and you 
punch them and they bound out like a rubber band. The 
first thing about a crushed strawberry stomach is a crushed 
strawberry nose. Nature lets the public on the outside 
know what is going on inside. If I could just take the 
stomach of a moderate drinker and turn it wrong side out 
for you, it would be all the temperance lecture you would 
need. You know what alcohol does to the white of an egg. 
It will cook it in a few minutes. Well, alcohol does the 


same thing to the nerves as to the white of an egg. That's 
why some men can't walk. They stagger because their 
nerves are partly paralyzed. 

The liver is the largest organ of the body. It takes 
all of the blood in the body and purifies it and takes out the 
poisons and passes them on to the gall and from there they 
go to the intestines and act as oil does on machinery. When 
a man drinks the liver becomes covered with hob nails, and 
then refuses to do the work, and the poisons stay in the 
blood. Then the victim begins to turn yellow. He has the 
jaundice. The kidneys take what is left and purify that. 
The booze that a man drinks turns them hard. 

That's what booze is doing for you. Isn't it time you 
went red hot after the enemy? I'm trying to help you. 
I'm trying to put a carpet on your floor, pull the pillows out 
of the window, give you and your children and wife good 
clothes. I'm trying to get you to save your money instead 
of buying a machine for the saloon-keeper while you have 
to foot it. 

By the grace of God I have strength enough to pass 
the open saloon, but some of you can't, so I owe it to you to 
help you. 

I've stood for more sneers and scoffs and insults and had 
my life threatened from one end of the land to the other 
by this God-forsaken gang of thugs and cutthroats because 
I have come out uncompromisingly against them. IVe 
taken more dirty, vile insults from this low-down bunch 
than from any one on earth, but there is no one that will 
reach down lower, or reach higher up or wider, to help you 
out of the pits of drunkenness than I. 

11 Give Attendance to Reading" 

There are some so-called Christian homes today with books on the 
shelves of the library that have no more business there than a rattler crawling 
about on the floor, or poison within the child's reach. BILLY SUNDAY. 

^TT NEVER heard Billy Sunday use an ungrammatical 

I sentence/' remarked one observer. "He uses a 

great deal of slang, and many colloquialisms, but not 

a single error in grammar could I detect. Some of his 

passages are really beautiful English." 

Sunday has made diligent effort to supplement his lack 
of education. He received the equivalent of a high-school 
training in boyhood, which is far more than Lincoln ever 
had. Nevertheless he has not had the training of the 
average educated man, much less of a normal minister of 
the gospel. He is conscious of his limitations: and has 
diligently endeavored to make up for them. When coach 
ing the Northwestern University base-ball team in the 
winter of '87 and 7 88 he attended classes at the University. 
He has read a great deal and to this day continues his 
studies. Of course his acquaintance with literature is 
superficial: but his use of it shows how earnestly he has 
read up on history and literature and the sciences. He 
makes better use of his knowledge of the physical sciences, 
and of historical allusions, than most men drilled in them 
for years. He displays a proneness for what he himself 
would call "high-brow stuff," and Ms disproportionate dis 
play of his "book learning" reveals his conscious effort to 
supply what does not come to him naturally. 

Sunday has an eclectic mind. He knows a good 
thing when he sees it. He is quick to incorporate into 
Ms discourses happenings or illustrations wherever found. 
Moody also was accustomed to do tMs: he circulated 

(1211 - 


among Ms friends interleaved Bibles to secure keen com 
ments on Scripture passages. All preachers draw on the 
storehouses of the past: the Church Fathers speak every 
Sunday in the pulpits of Christendom. Nobody originates 
all that he says. "We are the heirs of all the ages." 

At the opening of every one of his campaigns Sunday 
repeatedly announces that he has drawn his sermon mate 
rial from wherever he could find it, and that he makes no 
claim to originality- So the qualified critic can detect, in 
addition to some sermon outlines which were bequests 
from Dr. Chapman, epigrams from Sam Jones, flashes 
from Talmage, passages from George Stuart, paragraphs 
from the religious press, apothegms from the great com 
mentators. It is no news to say that Sunday's material is 
not all original; he avows this himself. In his gleanings he 
has had help from various associates. Elijah P. Brown's 
hand can be traced in his sermons: the creator of the 
"Ram's Horn" proverbs surely is responsible for Sunday's 
penchant for throwing stones at the devil. 

Sunday is not an original thinker. He has founded no 
school of Scriptural interpretation. He has not given any 
new exposition of Bible passages, nor has he developed any 
fresh lines of thought. Nobody hears anything new from 
him. In every one of his audience there are probably 
many persons who have a more scholarly acquaintance 
with the Bible and with Christian literature. 

Temperamentally a conservative, Sunday has taken 
the truth taught him by his earliest teachers and has 
adapted and paraphrased and modernized it. In the 
crucible of his intense personality this truth has become 
Sundayized. His discourses may have a variety of origin, 
but they all sound like Billy Sunday when he delivers them. 

A toilsome, painstaking worker, he has made elaborate 
notes of all his sermons, and these he takes with him in 
leather-bound black books to the platform and follows more 
or less closely as he speaks. No other man than himself 
could use these rough notes. Often he interjects into one 


sermon parts of another. He has about a hundred dis 
courses at his command at present, and his supply is con 
stantly growing. 

The early copies of Sunday's sermons were taken down 
more or less correctly in shorthand, and these have been 
reproduced in every city where he has gone: consequently 
they lack the tang and flavor of his present deliverances. 

He is alert to glean from all sources. In conversation 
one morning in Scranton I told him how on the previous day 
a lawyer friend had characterized a preacher with whom 
I had been talking by saying, "How much like a preacher he 
looks, and how little like a man." That afternoon Sunday 
used this in his sermon and twiddled it under his fingers 
for a minute or two, paraphrasing it in characteristic Sunday 
fashion. Doubtless it is now part of his permanent oratori 
cal stock in trade. 

The absolute unconventionality of the man makes all 
this possible. He is not afraid of the most shocking presen 
tation of truth. Thus when speaking at the University 
of Pennsylvania, he alluded to a professor who had criticized 
the doctrine of hell, saying, "That man will not be in hell 
five minutes before he knows better. 7 ' Of course that 
thrust caught the students. A more discreet and diplomatic 
person than Sunday would not have dared to say this. 

The gospel preached by Sunday is the same that the 
Church has been teaching for hundreds of years. He knows 
no modifications. He is fiercely antagonistic to "modern" 
scholarship. He sits in God's judgment seat in almost 
every sermon and frequently sends men to hell by name. 

All this may be deplorable, but it is Sunday. The Bible 
which he uses is an interpreted and annotated edition by 
one of the most conservative of Bible teachers: this suits 
Sunday, for he is not of the temperament to be hospitable 
to new truths that may break forth from the living word. 

This state of mind leads him to be extravagant and 
intolerant in his statements. His hearers are patient with 
all of this because the body 'of his teachings is that held by 


all evangelical Christians. If he were less cock-sure he would 
not be Billy Sunday; the great mass of mankind want a 
religion of authority. 

After all, truth is intolerant. 

Although lacking technical literary training Sunday 
is not only a master of living English and of terse, strong, 
vivid and gripping phrase, but he is also capable of extraor 
dinary flights of eloquence, when he uses the chastest and 
most appropriate language. He has held multitudes spell 
bound with such passages as these: 

God's Token of Love 

"Down in Jacksonville, Florida, a man, Judge Owen, 
quarreled with his betrothed and to try to forget, he went 
off and worked in a yellow-fever hospital. Finally he caught 
the disease and had succumbed to it. He had passed the 
critical stage of the disease, but he was dying. One day 
his sweetheart met the physician on the street and asked 
about the judge. 'He's sick/ he told her, 

" 'How bad? ' she asked. 

"'Well, he's passed the critical stage, but he is dying/ 
the doctor told her. 

"'But I don't understand/ she said, 'if he's passed the 
critical stage why isn't he getting well? ' 

" * He's dying, of undying love for you, not the fever/ the 
doctor told her. She asked him to come with her to a 
florist and he went and there she purchased some smilax 
and intertwined lilacs and wrote on a card, 'With my love/ 
and signed her given name. 

"The doctor went back to the hospital and Ms patient 
was tossing in fitful slumber. He laid the flowers on his 
breast and he awoke and saw the flowers and buried his 
head in them. 'Thanks for the flowers, doctor/ he said, 
but the doctor said, 'They are not from me/ 

'"Then who are they from?' 


"'I can't; tell me/ 


" 'I think you'll find the name on the card/ the doctor 
told him, and he looked and read the card, ' With my love.' 

" 'Tell me/ he cried, 'did she write that of her free will 
or did you beg her to do it?' The doctor told him she had 
begged to do it herself. 

"Then you ought to have seen him. The next day he 
was sitting up. The next day he ate some gruel. The next 
day he was in a chair. The next day he could hobble on 
crutches. The next day he threw one of them away. The 
next day he threw the cane away and the next day he could 
walk pretty well. On the ninth day there was a quiet 
wedding in the annex of the hospital. You laugh; but 
listen : This old world is like a hospital. Here are the wards 
for the libertines. Here are the wards for the drunkards. 
Here are the wards for the blasphemers. Everywhere I 
look I see scarred humanity. 

"Nineteen hundred years ago God looked over the 
battlements of heaven and he picked a basket of flowers, 
and then one day he dropped a baby into the manger at 
Bethlehem. 'For God so loved the world that he gave his 
only begotten Son that whosoever believeth on him should 
not perish but have everlasting life/ What more can he do? 

"But God didn't spare him. They crucified him, but 
he burst the bonds of death and the Holy Spirit came 
down. They banished John to the isle of Patmos and there 
he wrote the words: ' Behold, I stand at the door and knock; 
if any man hear my voice and open the door I shall come 
in to him and sup with him and he with me.' " 

The Sinking Ship 

"Years ago there was a ship on the Atlantic and a 
storm arose. The ship sprung a leak and in spite of all the 
men could do they could not pump out the water fast enough. 
The captain called the men to him and told them that he 
had taken observations and bearings and said unless the 
leak was stopped in ten hours the boat would be at the 
bottom of the sea* 'I want a man who will volunteer his 


life to stay the intake. It's in the second hold and about 
the size of a man's arm and some one can place his arm in 
the hole and it will hold back the water until we can get it 
pumped out enough/ 

"Not a man stirred. They said they would go back 
to the pumps and they did. They worked hard and when a 
man dropped they would drag him away and revive Mm and 
bring him back. The captain called them again and told 
them it was no use unless it was changed. They would be 
at the bottom before ten hours unless some one volunteered 
and in less time than that if a storm arose. Then one stepped 
bask. 'What! My boy P 

" ( Yes, father, I'll go. ? 

"He sent some endearing words to his mother, took one 
last look at the sky and kissed his father and bade the sailors 
good-bye, and went below. He found the leak *and placed 
his arm in it and packed rags around it and the men went 
back to the pumps. When day broke they saw the body 
floating and swaying in the water, but the arm was still in 
the hole. And the vessel sailed into port safe. There on 
the coast today stands a monument to perpetuate the deed. 

"Nineteen hundred years ago this old world sprung a 
leak. God asked for volunteers to stop it, and all of the 
angels and seraphim stood back, Noah, Abraham, Elijah, 
Isaiah, David, Jeremiah, Solomon, none would go, and then 
forth stepped Ms Son and said: ( Father, I'll go/ and de 
scended, and died on the cross; but 

i" 'Up from the grave he arose, 

With a mighty triumph o'er his foes. 
He axose a victor from the dark domain 
And he lives forever with his saints to reign. 
Hallelujah, Christ arose!' 

He burst the bonds of death, and the gates of heaven, while 
the angels sang and would crown him yet. 'Let me stand 
between God and the people/ and there he stands today, 
th6 Mediator, with the salvation, full, free, perfect, and 


eternal in one hand and the sword of inflexible justice in the 
other. The time will come when hell come with his angels; 
some day he will withdraw his offer of salvation. 

"Come and accept my Christ! Who'll come and get 
under the blood with me?" 

" What If It Had Been My Boy? 

" 'Say, papa, can I go with you?' asked a little boy of 
his father. ' Yes, son, come on/ said the father, as he threw 
the axe over his shoulder and accompanied by a friend, 
went to the woods and felled a tree. 

"The little fellow said: 'Say, papa, can I go and play 
in the water at the lagoon?' 'Yes, but be careful and don't 
get into deep water; keep close to the bank.' The little 
fellow was playing, digging wells, picking up stones and 
shells and talking to himself, when pretty soon the father 
heard him cry, 'Hurry, papa, hurry.' 

"The father leaped to his feet, grabbed the axe and ran 
to the lagoon and saw the boy floundering in deep water, 
hands outstretched, a look of horror on his face as he cried, 
'Hurry, papa; hurry; the alligator has got me.' The 
hideous amphibious monster had been hibernating and had 
come out, lean, lank, hungry, voracious, and seized the boy. 

"The father leaped into the lagoon and was just about 
to sink the axe through the head of the monster when he 
turned and swished the' water with his huge tail like the 
screw of an ocean steamer, and the little fellow cried out: 

'Hurry, papa; hurry, hurry, hur ' The water choked 

him. The blood-flecked foam told the story. The father 
went and got men and they plunged in and felt around and 
all they ever carried home to his mother was just two 
handfuls of crushed bones. 

"When I read that, for days I could not eat, for nights 
I could not sleep. I said, 'Oh, God, what if that had been 
my boy?' 

" There are influences worse than an alligator and they 
are ripping and tearing to shreds your virtue, your morality. 


Young men are held by intemperance, others by vice, drunk 
ards crying to the Church, ' Hurry, faster/ and the church 
members sit on the bank playing cards, sit there drinking 
beer and reading novels. ' Hurry/ They are splitting 

hairs over fool things, criticizing me or somebody else, instead 
of trying to keep sinners out of hell, and they are crying 
to the Church, 'Faster! Faster! Faster P 'Lord, is it I? 7 

"How many will say, 'God, I want to be nearer to you 
than I have ever been before. I want to renew my vows. 
I want to get under the cross.' How many will say it? 

" Who'll yield his heart to Christ? Who'll take his 
stand for the Lord? Who'll come out clean-cut for God? " 

A Dream of Heaven 

"Some years ago, after I had been romping and playing 
with the children, I grew tired and lay down, and half awake 
and half asleep, I had a dream. 

" I dreamed I was in a far-off land; it was not Persia, 
but all the glitter and gaudy raiment were there; it was not 
India, although her coral strands were there; it was not 
Ceylon, although all the beauties of that island of paradise 
were there; it was not Italy, although the soft dreamy haze 
of the blue Italian skies shone above me. I looked for weeds 
and briars, thorns and thistles and brambles and found none. 
I saw the sun in all its regal splendor and I said to the 
people, 'When will the sun set and it grow dark?' 

"They all laughed and said: 'It never grows dark in 
this land; there is no night here.' 

"I looked at the people, their faces wreathed in a simple 
halo of glory, attired in holiday clothing. I said: 'When 
will the working men go by clad in overalls? and where are 
the brawny men who work and toil over the anvil?' 

"They said, 'We toil not, neither do we spin; there 
remaineth a rest for the people of God.' 

"I strolled out in the suburbs. I said, ' Where are the 
graveyards, the grave-diggers? Where do you bury your dead?' 

"They said, 'We never die here.' 


"I looked out and saw the towers and spires; I looked 
at them, but I did not see any tombstones, mausoleums, 
green or flower-covered graves. I said, 'Where, where are 
the hearses that carry your dead? Where are the under 
takers that embalm the dead?' 

"They said, 'We never die in this land. 1 

"I said, ' Where are the hospitals where they take the 
sick? Where is the minster, and where are the nurses to 
give the gentle touch, the panacea? 7 

"They said, 'We never grow sick in this land/ 

"I said, 'Where are the homes of want and squalor? 
Where live the poor?' 

"They said, 'There is no penury; none die here; 
none ever cry for bread in this land/ I was bewildered. I 
strolled along and heard the ripple of the waters as the waves 
broke against the jeweled beach. I saw boats with oars 
dipped with silver, bows of pure gold. I saw multitudes that 
no man could number. We all jumped down through 
the violets and varicolored flowers, the air pulsing with bird 
song, and I cried, 

* ' ' Are all here?' And they echoed, 

"'All are here/ 

"And we went leaping and shouting and vied with 
bower and spire, and they all caroled and sung my welcome, 
and we all bounded and leaped and shouted with glee, 
'Home Home Home.* " 

The Battle With Death 

"Just one thing divides you people. You are either 
across the line of safety, or you are outside the kingdom of 
God. Old or young, rich or poor, high or low, ignorant or 
educated, white or colored, each of you is upon one side or 
upon the other, 

"The young man who talked to Jesus didn't let an infidel 
persuade him, and neither should you. 

"The time wiU come when his head will lie on his pillow 
and his fevered head will toss from side to side. 


"The time will come when there will be a rap on the 

" 'Who are you?' 

"*I didn't send fpv you. Why do you come here?' 
_, " ^Nobody sends for me, I choose my own time. If I 
waited for people to send for me I would never come. 1 
'"But don't come in now, Death.' 
"'I am coming in. I have waited for a long time. I 
have held a mortgage on you for fifty years, and I've eome 
to foreclose.' 

" 'But, ah, Death, I'm not ready.' 

"'Hush! Hush! 
I've come [to take 
you. You must 

" 'De a t b 1 
Death! Go get my 
pocketbook/ there! 
Go get my bankbook! 
Go get the key to iny 
safety deposit box! 
Take my gold watch, 
my jewelry, my lands, 
my home, everything 
I've got, I'll give all 
"Bur DEATH SATS, Tvn COMB FOB You' " to you if you'll only 


"But Death says, 'I've come for you* I don't want 
your money or your land or anything that you have. You 
must come with me.' 

"'Death! Death! Don't blow that icy breath upon 
me. Don't crowd me against the wall!' 

" 'You must come! You have a week you have five 
days you have one day you have twelve hours you 
have one hour you have thirty minutes you have ten 
minutes you have one minute you have thirty seconds--' 


you have ten seconds! I'll count them one two three 
f our fiv e six ha ? ha ! seven eight nine ten !' 

"He's gone. Telephone for the undertaker. Carry 
him to the graveyard. Lay him beside his mother. She 
died saying, 'I'm sweeping through the gates, washed in 
the blood of the Lamb. ; He died shrieking, ' Don't blow 
that cold breath in my face! Don't crowd me against the 
wall!' Oh! God, don't let that old infidel keep you out of 
the kingdom of God. 

"Who'll come into the kingdom of God? Gome 
quick quick quick !" 

" Christ or Nothing " 

" ( And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, 
that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.' 
No man can be saved without Jesus Christ. There's no way 
to God unless you come through Jesus Christ. It's Jesus 
Christ or nothing. 

"At the close of the Battle of Gettysburg the country 
roundabout was overrun by Federals or Confederates, 
wounded or ill, and the people helped both alike. Relief 
corps were organized in all the little towns. In one of 
them I think it was York a man who had headed the com 
mittee, resigned as chairman and told his clerk not to send 
any more soldiers to him. There came a Union soldier with 
a blood-stained bandage and with crutches that he had 
made for himself, and asked to see this man. ( I am no 
longer chairman of the committee,' said the man, 'and I 
cannot help you, for if I were to make any exception to the 
rule, I would be overrun with applicants/ 

"'But,' said the soldier, 'I don't want to ask you for 
anything. I only want to give you a letter. It is from your 
son, who is dead. I was with him, when he died. When 
he was wounded I got him a canteen of water and propped 
Mm up against a tree and held his hand when he wrote. 
I know where he lies.' The father took the letter, and he 
read it, It said, 'Treat this soldier kindly for my sake/ 


Then it told how he had helped the writer the dying boy* 
The father said, 'You must come with me to his mother. 1 
She saw them coming and cried out, 'Have you any news of 
my boy?' The father said, 'Here is a letter read it/ 
She read it and shrieked. They took the wounded soldier 
into their home, 'Won't you stay with us and be our son? 
You were Ms friend, you were with him at the last, you look 
like him, your voice reminds us of him. When you speak 
and we turn our faces away, we can almost think he is here. 
Let us adopt you. Won't you do it?' He heard their plea, 
and he was touched and he stayed. So heaven will hear 
your prayer if it is in the name of Christ. 

"When I go in the name of Jesus Christ, God will stop 
making worlds to hear me. 

"Lord, teach us how to pray." 


"There comes Judas, leading the devil's crowd, the 
churchly gang. Don't forget that Jesus was crucified by 
church members whose sins he rebuked. Judas said, 'The 
fellow that I kiss, that's Jesus.' Look at the snake on his 
sanctimonious countenance. He said, 'Hail, Master/ and 
he kissed him. 

"Jesus said, 'Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with 
a kiss?' 

"And they staggered back. 'Whom seek ye?' 
"'We are all looking for Jesus of Nazareth/ 
"'All right, I am he.' They staggered again, and 
Judas led them on. 

"They rushed up and seized Jesus Christ. When start 
ing for Calvary they put a cross on his back. He was tired 
and he staggered and stumbled, then fell, but he climbed up 
and a fellow smote him and said, 'Ha, ha,' and the young 
fellow spat upon him. They cursed him and damned him. 
What for? Because he came to open up a plan of redemp 
tion to keep you and me out of hell; and yet you live a life 
@f disgrace. On he went and along came a colored man 











named Simon and they put the cross on his back and he 
went dragging if for Jesus, The colored race has borne 
many a burden in the advancement of civilization, but a 
grander burden has never been on the back of black or white, 
than when Simon bore the Master's cross. 

"On they went and seized him, and I can see his arms 
as they pounded the nails through his hands and his feet. 
Another fellow digs a hole, and I can hear the cross as it 
e chugs' in the hole, and they lift him between heaven and 
earth. Then the disciples forsook him and fled. Left 
him all alone. How many will go with Jesus to the last 
ditch? Thousands will die for Mm, but there is another 
set that will not. 

"The disciples followed him to the garden, but forsook 
him. at the cross. 

"If we had been there we might have seen the hill-tops 
and the tree-tops filled and covered with angels, and houses 
crowded. As Jesus hung on the cross and cried, 'I thirst/ 
a Jew ran and dipped a sponge in wormwood and gall and 
vinegar and put it on a reed and put it up to his lips. Then 
Jesus cried, 'My God, why hast thou forsaken me?' There 
he hung, feeling the burden of your guilt, you booze-fighter, 
you libertine, you dead-beat. 'My God, hast thou forsaken 
me?' he cried, and I imagine that the archangel cried, "Oh, 
Jesus, if you want me to come and sweep the howling, 
blood-thirsty mob into hell, lift your head and look me in 
the face and I will come.' 

"But Jesus gritted his teeth and struggled on, and the 
archangel again cried, ' Oh, Jesus, if you want me to come, 
tear your right hand loose from the cross and wave it, and 
I will come.' But Jesus just clenched his fist over the nails. 
What for? To keep you out of hell. Then tell me why 
you are indifferent. And soon he cried, 'It is finished/ 

"The Holy Spirit plucked the olive branch of peace 
back through the gates of heaven from the cross and winged 
his way and cried, 'Peace! Peace has been made by his 
death on the cross. 1 That is what he had to do. That 
was his duty." 


The World for God 

"A heathen woman named Panathea was famous for 
her great beauty, and King Cyrus wanted her for his harem. 
He sent his representatives to her and offered her money 
and jewels to come, but she repulsed them and spurned 
their advances. Again he sent them, this time with offers 
still more generous and tempting; but again she sent them 
away with scorn. A third time they were sent, and a third 
time she said, 'Nay.' Then King Cyrus went in person to 
see her, and he doubled and trebled and quadrupled the 
offers his men had made, but still she would not go. She 
told him that she was a wife, and that she was true to her 

"He said, ' Panathea, where dwellest thou?' 

"'In the arms and on the breast of my husband/ she 

" ' Take her away/ said Cyrus. ' She is of no use to me. 5 
Then he put her husband in command of the charioteers and 
sent him into battle at the head of the troops. Panathea 
knew what this meant that her husband had been sent in 
that he might be killed. She waited while the battle raged, 
and when the field was cleared she shouted his name and 
searched for him and finally found him wounded and dying. 
She knelt and clasped him in her arms, and as they kissed, 
his lamp of life went out forever. King Cyrus heard of the 
man's death, and came to the field. Panathea saw him 
coining, careening on his camel like a ship in a storm. She 
called, ' Oh, husband! He comes he shall not have me. 1 
was true to you in life, and will be true to you in death F 
And she drew her dead husband's poniard from its sheath, 
drove it into her own breast and fell dead across the body. 

"King Cyrus came up and dismounted. He removed 
his turban and knelt by the dead husband and wife, and 
thanked God that he had found in his kingdom one true and 
virtuous woman that his money could not buy, nor his 
power intimidate. 

"Oh, preachers, the problem of this century is the pro- 


fciem of the first century. We must win the world for God 
and we will win the world for God just as soon as we have 
men and women who will be faithful to God and will not lie 
and will not sell out to the devil." 

A Word Picture 

"Every day at noon, while Ingersoll was lecturing, 
Hastings would go to old Farwell Hall and answer Inger- 
solFs statements of the night before. One night Ingersoll 
painted one of those wonderful word pictures for which he 
was justly famous. He was a master of the use of words. 
Men and women would applaud and cheer and wave their 
hats and handkerchiefs, and the waves of sound would rise 
and fall like great waves of the sea. As two men were 
going home from his lecture, one of them said to the other: 
'Bob certainly cleaned 'em up tonight/ The other man 
said: * There's one thing he didn't clean up. He didn't 
clean up the religion of my old mother.' 

"This is the word picture Ingersoll painted: 

"'I would rather have been a French peasant and worn 
wooden shoes; I would rather have lived in a hut, with a 
vine growing over the door and the grapes growing and 
ripening in the autumn sun; I would rather have been that 
peasant, with my wife by my side and my children upon my 
knees twining their arms of affection about me; I would 
rather have been that poor French peasant and gone down 
at least to the eternal promiscuity of the dust, followed by 
those who loved me; I would a thousand times rather have 
been that French peasant than that imperial incarnation of 
force and murder (Napoleon) ; and so I would ten thousand 

"What was that? Simply a word picture. It was only 
the trick of an orator. 

"Let me paint for you a picture, and see if it doesn't 
make you feel like leaping and shouting hallelujahs. 

"Infidelity has never won a drunkard from his cups. 
It has never redeemed a fallen woman from her unchastity. 


It has never built a hospital for the crushed and sick. It 
has never dried tears. It has never built a mission for the 
rescue of the down-and-out. It wouldn't take a ream, or 
a quire, or a sheet, or even a line of paper to write down what 
infidelity has to better and gladden the world. 

" What has infidelity done to benefit the world? What 
has it ever done to help humanity in any way? It never 
built a school, it never built a church, it never built an 
asylum or a home for the poor. It never did anything for 
the good of man. I challenge the combined forces of 
unbelief. They have failed utterly. 

"Well may Christianity stand today and point to its 
hospitals, its churches and its schools with their towers 
and the spires pointing to the source of their inspiration and 
say: * These are the works that I do/ 

"I would rather have been a French peasant and worn 
wooden shoes; I would rather have lived in a hut, with a 
vine growing over the door and grapes growing and ripening 
in the autumn sun; I would rather have been that peasant," 
with my wife and children by my side and the open Bible 
on my knees, at peace with the world and at peace with 
God; I would rather have been that poor peasant and gone 
down at least in the promiscuity of the dust, with the 
certainty that my name was written in the Lamb's book of 
life than to have been that brilliant infidel whose tricks of 
oratory charmed thousands and sent souls to hell." 

The Faithful Pilot 

"Some years ago a harbor pilot in Boston, who had held 
a commission for sixty-five years (you know the harbor 
pilots and the ocean pilots are different). For sixty-five 
years he had guided ships in and out of the Boston harbor, 
but Ms time to die had come. Presently the watchers at 
his bedside saw that he was trying to sit up, and they 
aided him. 1 see a light/ he said, 

" 'Is it the Minot light ?' they asked him. 

"'No, that is first white and then red; this one is all 


white all the time/ and lie fell back. After a few moments 
he straggled to rise again. 'I see a light/ he gasped, 

"'Is it the Highland light?' 

"'No, that one is red and then black; this one is white 
all the time* 9 And he fell back again and they thought 
certainly he was gone, but he came back again as if from 
the skies and they saw his lips moving. 'I see a light/ 

'"Is it the Boston light; the last as you pass out?' 
they asked. 

"'No, that one is red all the time; this one is white 
all the time/ And his hands trembled and he reached out 
his feeble arms. His face lighted up with a halo of glory. 
' I see a light/ he gasped, 'and it is the light of glory. Let 
the anchor drop/ 

*' 'And lie anchored Ms soul in the haven of rest, 

To sail the wild seas no more: 
Tho' the tempest may beat o'er the mid stormy deep, 
In Jesus I'm safe evermore.' 

w That's where you ought to be. Will you come? 11 

Acrobatic Preaching 

If nine-tenths of you were as weak physically as you are spiritually, 
you couldn't walk. BILLY SUNDAY. 

IF, as has been often said, inspiration is chiefly perspira 
tion, then there is no doubting the inspiration of Rev. 
William A. Sunday, D.D. Beyond question he is the 
most vigorous speaker on the public platform today. One 
editor estimates that he travels a mile over his platform in 
every sermon he delivers. There is no other man to liken 
him to: only an athlete in the pink of condition could endure 
the gruelling exertions to which he subjects himself every 
day of his campaigns. The stranger who sees him for the 
first time is certain that he is on the very edge of a complete 
collapse; but as that same remark has been made for years 
past, it is to be hoped that the physical instrument may be 
equal to its task for a long time to come. 

People understand with their eyes as well as with their 
ears; and Sunday preaches to both. The intensity of his 
physical exertions gestures is hardly an adequate word 
certainly enhances the effect of the preacher's earnestness. 
No actor on the dramatic stage works so hard. Such 
passion as dominates Sunday cannot be simulated; it 
is the soul pouring itself out through every pore of the 

Some of the platform activities of Sunday make specta 
tors gasp. He races to and fro across the platform. Like 
a jack knife he fairly doubles up in emphasis. One hand 
smites the other. His foot stamps the floor as if to destroy 
it. Once I saw him bring Ms clenched fist down so hard on 
the seat of a chair that I feared the blood would flow and 
the bones be broken. No posture is too extreme for this 
restless gymnast. Yet it all seems natural. Like his speech, 




it is an integral part of the man. Every muscle of his body 
preaches in accord with Ms voice. 

Be it whispered, men like this unconventional sort of 
earnestness. Whenever they are given a chance, most men 
are prone to break the trammels of sober usage. I never 
yet have met a layman who has been through a Billy Sunday 
campaign who had a single word of criticism of the platform 
gymnastics of the evangelist. Their reasoning is something 
like this: On the stage, where men undertake to represent 
a character or a truth, they use all arts and spare themselves 
not at all. Why should not a man go to greater lengths 
when dealing with living 
realities of the utmost im 

Sunday is a physical 
sermon. In a unique sense 
he glorifies God with his 
body. Only a physique 
kept in tune by clean living 
and right usage could re 
spond to the terrific and 
unceasing demands which 
Sunday makes upon it. 
When in a sermon he 
alludes to the man who acts 

no better than a four-footed brute, Sunday is for an instant 
down on all fours on the platform and you see that brute. 
As he pictures a man praying he sinks to his knees for a 
single moment. When he talks of the death-bed penitent 
as a man waiting to be pumped full of embalming fluid, he 
cannot help going through the motions of pumping in the 
fluid. He remarks that death-bed repentance is " burning 
the candle of life in the service of the devil, and then blowing 
the smoke in God's face" and the last phrase is accom 
panied by "pfouff!" In a dramatic description of the 
marathon he pictures the athlete falling prostrate at the 
goal and thud! there lies the evangelist prone OB the 




platform. Only a skilled base-ball player, with a long drill 
in sliding to bases, could thus fling himself to the floor 
without serious injury. On many occasions he strips off 
his coat and talks in his shirt sleeves. It seems impossible 
for Mm to stand up behind the pulpit and talk only with his 

The fact is, Sunday is a born actor. He knows how to 
portray truth by a vocal personality. When he describes 
the traveler playing with a pearl at sea, he tosses an imagin 
ary gem into the air so that the spectators hold their breath 
lest the ship should lurch and the jewel be lost. Words 
without gesture could never attain this triumph of oratory. 

A hint of Sunday's state of mind which drives him to- 
such earnestness and intensity in labor is found in quota 
tions like the "following: 

"You will agree with me, in closing, that I'm not a 
crank; at least I try not to be. I have not preached about 
my first, second, third or hundredth blessing. I have not 
talked about baptism or immersion. I told you that while 
I was here my creed would be: 'With Christ you are saved; 
without him you are lost/ Are you saved? Are you lost? 
Going to heaven? Going to hell? I have tried to build 
every sermon right around those questions; and also to 
steer clear of anything else, but I want to say to you in 
closing, that it is the inspiration of my life, the secret of my 
earnestness. I never preach a sermon but that I think it may 
be the last one some fellow will hear or the last I shall ever 
be privileged to preach. It is an inspiration to me that some 
day He will come. 

" 'It may be at morn, when the day -is awaking, 
When darkness through sunlight and shadow is breaking, 
That Jesus will come, in the fullness of glory, 
To receive from the world his own. 

" 'Oh joy, Oh delight, to go without dying, 
No sickness, no sadness, no sorrow, no crying! 
Caught up with the Lord in the clouds of glory / 
When he comes to receive from the world his own.' 2 

4r Now the servant of Naaxnan 
entered the hut of 
the Prophet EB- 
sha and found 
him sitting 
perched up 0! 
a stool, wri 
ing on Pa- 
pyrus 9 
had the 
the old 
got up, , 
but just sail 
'Tell him to 

bathe in the Jordan seven 
times now BEAT IT I 

So the servant went 
back, and Naaman ,\ 
said, 'Well did you V\ 
see him ?' 

And the servant said, 
*Yes, but he's a queer old 
duck he said for you to 
bathe in the Jordan seven 

But he went right ahead! 
First he stuck one toe in 
and shivered but finally 

He held onto his nose and 

shut his eyes and down he 

went in all over I 


Naaman thought he'd take a chance 
so he went down to the river 
bank and got off Ms clothes 
and probably about the first 
thing he did was to stub his toe 
against a big rock! 
O-O-Q-Q-O-O-O ! 

And then like as not 
one of those big sand 
' flies sat right down be- 
ffj tween his shoulder blades! 
We-e-e-e-e-e-e ! ! ! 

And then up he came 
and stamped and pounded 
and spluttered and got 
the water out of 

Ms ears 

And nothing had happened 
except that Ms sores began 
to itch but when he had dipped 
seven times his flesh was made whol< 









"Go straight on and break the Eon's neck and turn it 
into a beehive, out of which you will some day take the best 
and sweetest honey ever tasted/ for the flavor of a dead lion 
in the honey beats that of clover and buckwheat all to 
pieces. Be a man, therefore, by going straight on to breathe 
the air that has in it the smoke of battle. 

"Don't spend much time in looking for an easy chair, 
with a soft cushion on it, if you would write your name high 
in the hall of fame where the names of real men are found. 
The man who is willing to be carried over all rough places 
might as well have wooden legs, 'He is not worthy of the 
honeycomb who shuns the hive because the bees have stings/ 
The true value of life lies in the preciousness of striving. 
No tears are ever shed for the chick that dies in its 

" 'Bid you tackle the trouble that came your way 

With a resolute heart and cheerful? 
Or bide your face from the light of day 

With a craven soul and fearful? 
Oh, a trouble is a ton, or a trouble is an ounce, 

Or a trouble is what you make it, 
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts 

But onlyHow did you take it? y " 

"This poem is by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, the negro 

"'The Lord had a Job for me, but I had so much to do, 
I said: "You get somebody else or, wait till I get through. 
I don't know how the Lord came out, but he seemed to get along 
But I felt kinda sneakin' like, 'cause I knowM I done him wrong 
One day I needed the Lord, needed him myself needed him right away 
And he never answered me at all, but I could hear him say 
Down in my accusin' heart "Nigger, I'se got too much to do, 
You get somebody else, or wait till I get through/' 
Now when the Lord he have a job for me, I never tries to shirk; 
I drops what I have on hand and does the good Lord's work; 
And my affairs can run along, or wait till I get through, 
Nobody else can do the Job that God's marked out forlorn/ 8 * 


"I will tell you many young people are good in the 

beginning, but they are like the fellow that was kUled by 
falling off a skyscraper they stop too quick. They go one 

day like a six-cylinder automobile with " her carbureters 
working; the next day they stroll along like a fellow walking 
through a graveyard reading the epitaphs on the tomb 
stones. It is the false ideals that strew the shores with 
wrecks, eagerness to achieve success in realms we can not 
reach that breeds half the ills that curse today. One 
hundred years from tonight what difference will it make 
whether you are rich or poor; whether learned or illiterate. 

" ' It matters little where I was born, 

Whether my parents were rich or poor; 
Whether they shrunk from the cold world's scorn, 

Or lived in pride of wealth secure. 
But whether I live an honest man, 

And hold my integrity firm in my clutch; 
I tell you my neighbor as plain as I can, 

That matters much/ 

"The engineer is bigger than the locomotive, because 
he runs it. 

"Do your best and you will never wear out shoe leather 
looking for a job. Do your best, and you will never become 
blind reading 'Help Wanted' ads in a newspaper. Be like the 
fellow that went to college and tacked the letter V up over 
his door in his room. He was asked what that stood for, 
and he said valedictorian, and he went out carrying the 
valedictory with him. 

" If I were a cobbler, best of all cobblers I would be. 

11 1 were a tinker, no tinker beside should mend an old teakettle for me/" 

In dealing with the unreality of many preachers, Sunday 
pictures a minister as going to the store to buy groceries 
for his wife, but using his pulpit manner, his pulpit tone of 
voice and his pulpit phraseology. This is so true to life 
that it convulses every congregation that hears it. In these 


few minutes of mimicry the evangelist does more to argue 
for reality and genuineness and unprofessionalism on the 
part of the clergy than could be accomplished by an hour's 

Another of his famous passages is his portrayal of the 
society woman nursing a pug dog. You see the woman and 
you see the dog, and you love neither one. Likewise, 
Sunday mimics the skin-flint hypocrite in a way to make the 
man represented loathe himself. 

This suggests a second fact about Sunday's preaching. 
He often makes people laugh, but rarely makes them cry. 
His sense of humor is stronger than his sense of pathos. 
Now tears and hysterics are supposed to be part of the 
stock in trade of the professional evangelist. Not so with 
Sunday. He makes sin absurd and foolish as well as wicked; 
and he makes the sinner ashamed of himself. He has 
recovered for the Church the use of that powerful weapon, 
the barb of ridicule. There are more instruments of warfare 
in the gospel armory than the average preacher commonly 
uses. Sunday endeavors to employ them all, and his 
favorites seem to be humor, satire and scorn. 

As a physical performance the preaching to crowds of 
from ten to twenty-five thousand persons every day is 
phenomenal. Sunday has not a beautiful voice like many 
great orators. It is husky and seems strained and yet it 
is able to penetrate every corner of his great tabernacles. 
Nor is he possessed of the oratorical manner, "the grand 
air" of the rhetorician. Mostly he is direct, informal and 
colloquial in his utterances. But he is so dead in earnest 
that after every address he must make an entire change of 
raiment and, like most base-ball players, and members 
of the sporting fraternities, he is fond of good clothes, even 
to the point of foppishness. He carries about a dozen differ 
ent suits with him and I question whether there is a single 
Prince Albert or "preacher's coat" in the whole outfit. 

A very human figure is Billy Sunday on the platform. 
During the preliminaries he enjoys the music, the responses 


of the delegations, and any of the informalities that are 
common accessories of Ms meetings. When he begins to 
speak he is an autocrat and will brook no disturbance. He 
is less concerned about hurting the feelings of some fidgety, 
restless usher or auditor than he is about the comfort of the 
great congregation and its opportunity to hear Ms message. 

Any notion that Sunday loves the limelight is wide of 
the mark. The fact is, he shuns the public gaze. It really 
makes Mm nervous to be pointed out and stared at. That 
is one reason why he does not go to a hotel, but Mres a 
furnished house for himself and Ms associates. Here they 
"camp out" for the period of the campaign, and enjoy 
something like the family life of every-day American folk. 
Their hospitable table puts on no more frills than that of 
the ordinary home. The same cook has accompanied the 
party for months; and when a family's religion so commends 
itself to the cook, it is likely to grade "A No. 1 Hard/' like 
Minnesota wheat. 

"Ma," as the whole party call Mrs. Sunday, is respon 
sible for the home, as well as for many meetings. Primarily, 
though, she looks after "Daddy." Sunday is the type of 
man who is quite helpless with respect to a dozen matters 
wMch a watchful wife attends to. He needs considerable 
looking after, and all Ms friends, from the newspaper men 
to the policeman on duty at the house, conspire to take care 
of him. 

The Pittsburgh authorities assigned a couple of plain 
clothes men to safeguard Sunday; of course he "got them" 
early, as he gets most everybody he comes into touch with. 
So these men took care of Sunday as if he were the famous 
"millionaire baby" of Washington and Newport. Not a 
sense of official duty, but affectionate personal solicitude 
animated those two men who rode in the automobile with 
us from the house to the Tabernacle. 

TMs sort of thing is one of the most illuminating phases 
of the Sunday campaign. Those who come closest to the 
man believe most in Ms religion. As one of the newspaper 


men covering the meetings said to me, "TJie newspaper boys 
'have all 'hit the trail/ " Then he proved his religion by 
offering to do the most fraternal services for me. From 
Mrs. Sunday, though, I learned that there was one bright 
reporter who had worked on aspects of the revival who had 
not gone forward. He avoided the meetings, and evaded the 
personal interviews of the Sunday party. The evangelist's 
wife was as solicitous over that one young man's spiritual 
welfare as if he had been one of her own four children. 

Ten of the policemen stationed at the Tabernacle went 
forward the night before I arrived in Pittsburgh. I was told 
that twenty others were waiting to "hit the trail" in a group, 
taking their families with them. 

The personal side of Sunday is wholesome and satis 
factory. He is a simple, modest chap, marked by the ways 
of the Middle West. Between meetings he goes to bed, and 
there friends sometimes visit him. Met thus intimately, 
behind the scenes, one would expect from him an unre 
strained display of personality, even a measure of egotism. 
Surely, it is sometimes to be permitted a man to recount his 
achievements. Never a boast did I hear from Sunday. 
Instead, he seemed absurdly self-distrustful. These are 
his times for gathering, and he wanted me to tell him about 
Bible lands! 


"The Old-Time Religion" 

I am an old-f ashioned preacher of the old-time religion, that has warmed 

this cold world's heart for two thousand years. BILLY SUNDAY. 

MODERN to the last minute Sunday's methods may 
be, but Ms message is unmistakably the "old-time 
religion." He believes his beliefs without a ques 
tion. There is no twilight zone in his intellectual processes; 
no mental reservation in his preaching. He is sure that man 
is lost without Christ, and that only by the acceptance of 
the Saviour can fallen humanity find salvation. He is as sure 
of JheU as of heaven, and for all modernized varieties of 
religion he has only vials of scorn. 

In no single particular is Sunday's work more valuable 
than in its revelation of the power of positive conviction to 
attract and convert multitudes. The world wants faith, 
"Intolerant," cry the scholars of Sunday; but the hungry 
myriads accept Mm as their spiritual guide to peace, and joy, 
and righteousness. The world wants a religion with salva 
tion in it; speculation does not interest the average man who 
seeks deliverance from sin in himself and in the world. He 
does not hope to be evoluted into holiness; he wants to be 

"Modernists" sputter and fume and rail at Sunday 
and Ms work: but they cannot deny that he leads men and 
women into new lives of holiness, happiness and helpfulness. 
Churches are enlarged and righteousness is promoted, all 
by ^ the old, blood-stained way of the Cross. The revivals 
wMch have followed the preacMng of Evangelist Sunday 
are supplemental to the Book of the Acts. His theology is 
summed up in the words Peter used in referring to Jesus: 
"There is none other Name under heaven given among men 
whereby we must be saved." 



One of Sunday's favorite sayings is: "I don't know any 
more about theology than a jack-rabbit does about ping- 
pong, but I'm on the way to glory." That really does not 
fully express the evangelist's point. He was arguing that 
" theology bears the same relation to Christianity that botany 
does to flowers, or astronomy to the stars. Botany is re 
written, but the flowers remain the same. Theology 
changes (I have no objection to your new theology when it 
tries to make the truths of Christianity clearer), but Chris 
tianity abides. Nobody is kept out of heaven because he 
does not understand theology. It isn't theology that saves, 
but Christ; it is not the saw-dust trail that saves, but Christ 
in the motive that makes you hit the trail. 

"I believe the Bible is the word of God from cover to 
cover. I believe that the man who magnifies the word of 
God in his preaching is the man whom God will honor. 
Why do such names stand out on the pages of history as 
Wesley, Whitefield, Finney and Martin Luther? Because 
of their fearless denunciation of all sin, and because they 
preach Jesus Christ without fear or favor. 

"But somebody says a revival is abnormal. You lie! 
Do you mean to tell me that the godless, card-playing 
conditions of the Church are normal? I say they are not, 
but it is the abnormal state. It is the sin-eaten, apathetic 
condition of the Church that is abnormal. It is the ' Dutch 
lunch' and beer party, card parties and the like, that are 
abnormal. I say that they lie when they say that a revival 
is an abnormal condition in the Church. 

"What we need is the good old-time kind of revival 
that will cause you to love your neighbors, and quit talking 
about them. A revival that will make you pay your debts, 
and have family prayers. Get that kind and then you will 
see that a revival means a very different condition from 
what people believe it does. 

"Christianity means a lot more than church member 
ship. Many an old skin-flint is not fit for the balm of Gflead 
until you give Mm a fly blister and get after him with a 


cunycomb. There are too many Sunday-school teachers 
who are godless card-players, beer, wine and champagne 
drinkers. No wonder the kids are going to the devil No 
wonder your children grow up like cattle when you have no 
form of prayer in the home/V 


What does converted mean? It means completely 
changed. Converted is not synonymous with reformed. 
Reforms are from without conversion from within. Con 
version is a complete surrender to Jesus. It's a willingness 
to do what he wants you to do. Unless you have made a 
complete surrender and are doing his will it will avail you 
nothing if you've reformed a thousand times and have your 
name on fifty church records. 

Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, in your heart and 
confess him with your mouth and you will be saved. God is 
good. The plan of salvation is presented to you in two 
parts. Believe in your heart and confess with your mouth. 
Many of you here probably do believe. Why don't you 
confess? Now own up. The truth is that you have a yellow 
streak. Own up, business men, and business women, and 
all of you others. Isn't it so? Haven't you got a little 
saffron? Brave old Elijah ran like a scared deer when he 
heard old Jezebel had said she would have his head, and he 
beat it.jT And he ran to Beersheba and lay down under a 
juniper tree and cried to the Lord to let him die. The Lord 
answered his prayer, but not in the way he expected. If 
he had let him, die he would have died with nothing but the 
wind moaning through the trees as his funeral dirge. But 
the Lord had something better for Elijah. He had a chariot 
of fire and it swooped down and carried him into glory 
without his ever seeing death. 

So he says he has something better for you salvation 
if he can get you to see it. You've kept your church mem 
bership locked up. You've smiled at a smutty story. 
When God and the Church were scoffed at you never peeped, 


and when asked to stand up here you've sneaked out the 
back way and beat It. You're afraid and God despises a 
coward a mutt. You cannot be converted by "thinking so 
and sitting still. 

Maybe you're a drunkard, an adulterer, a prostitute, 
a liar; won't admit you are lost; are proud. Maybe you're 
even proud you're not proud, and Jesus has a time of it. 

Jesus said: "Come to me," not to the Church; to me, 
not to a creed; to me, not to a preacher; to me, not to an 
evangelist; to me, not to a priest; to me, not to a pope; 
"Come to me and I will, give you rest." Faith in Jesus 
Christ saves you, not faith in the Church. 

You can join church, pay your share of the preacher's 
salary, attend the services, teach Sunday school, return 
thanks and do everything that would apparently stamp you 
as a Christian even pray but you won't ever be a Christian 
until you do what God tells you to do. 

That's the road, and that's the only one mapped out 
for you and for me. God treats all alike. He doesn't 
furnish one plan for the banker and another for the janitor 
who sweeps out the bank. He has the same plan for one 
that he has for another. It's the law you may not 
approve of it, but that doesn't make any difference, 

Salvation a Personal Matter 

The first thing to remember about being saved is that 
salvation is a personal matter. "Seek ye the Lord" that 
means every one must seek for himself. It won't do for 
the parent to seek for the children; it won't do for the 
children to seek for the parent. If you were sick all the 
medicine I might take wouldn't do you any good. Salvation 
is a personal matter that no one else can do for you; you 
must attend to it yourself- 

Some persons have lived manly or womanly lives, and 
they lac| but one thing open confession of the Lord 
Jesus Christ. Some men think that they must come to 
him in a certain way that they must be stirred by emotion 
or something like that. 


Some people have a deeper conviction of sin before 
they are converted than after they are converted. With 
some it is the other way. Some know when they are con 
verted and others don't. 

Some people are emotional. Some are demonstrative. 
Some will cry easily. Some are cold and can't be moved 
to emotion. A man jumped up in a meeting and asked 
whether he could be saved when he hadn't shed a tear in 
forty years. Even as he spoke he began to shed tears. 
It's all a matter of how you're constituted. I am vehement, 
and I serve God with the same vehemence that I served the 
devil when I went down the line. 

Some of you say that in order to accept Jesus you must 
have different surroundings. You think you could do it 
better in some other place. You can be saved where you 
are as well as any place on earth. I say, "My watch doesn't 
run. It needs new surroundings. I'll put it in this other 
pocket, or I'll put it here, or here on these flowers." It 
doesn't need new surroundings. It needs a new mainspring; 
and that's what the sinner needs. You need a new heart, 
not a new suit. 

What can I do to keep out of hell? "Believe on the 
Lord Jesus dirist and thou shalt be saved."- 

The Philippian jailer was converted. He had put the 
disciples into the stocks when they came to the prison, 
but after his conversion he stooped down and washed the 
blood from their stripes. 

Now, leave God out of the proposition for a minute. 
Never mind about the new birth that's his business.- 
Jesus Christ became a man, bone of our bone, flesh of our 
flesh. He died on -the cross for us, so that we might escape 
'the penalty pronounced on us. Now, never mind v about 
anything but our part in salvation. Here it is: " Believe 
on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." 

You say, "Mr, Sunday, the Church is full of hypocrites." 
So's hell. I say to you if you don't want to go to hell and 
live with that whole bunch forever, come into the Church^ 


where you won't have to associate with them very long* 
There are no hypocrites in heaven. 

You say, "Mr. Sunday, I can be a Christian and go to 
heaven without joining a church." Yes, and you can go to 
Europe without getting on board a steamer. The swimming's 
good but the sharks are laying for fellows who take that 
route. I don't believe you. If a man is truly saved he will 
hunt for a church right away. 

You say, "It's so mysterious. I don't understand." 
You'll be surprised to find out how little you know. You 
plant a seed in the ground that's your part. You don't 
understand how it grows. How God makes that seed grow 
is mysterious to you. 

Some people think that they can't be converted unless 
they go down on their knees in the straw at a camp-meeting, 
unless they pray all hours of the night, and all nights of the 
week, while some old brother storms heaven in prayer. 
Some think a man must lose sleep, must come down the 
aisle with a haggard look, and he must froth at the mouth 
and dance and shout. Some get it that way, and they don't 
think that the work I do is genuine unless conversions are 
made in the same way that they have got religion. 

I want you to see what God put in blafck and white; 
that there can be a sound, thorough conversion in an 
instant; that man can be converted as quietly as the coming 
of day and never backslide. I do not find fault with the 
way other people get religion. What I want and preach 
is "the fact that a man can be converted without any fuss. " 

If a man wants to shout and clap his hands in joy over 
his wife's conversion, or if a wife wants to cry when her 
husband is converted, I am not going to turn the hose on 
them, or put them in a strait-jacket. When a man turns 
to God truly in conversion, I don't care what form his con 
version takes. I wasn't converted that way, but I do not 
rush around and say, with gall and bitterness, that you are 
not saved because you did not get religion the way I did. 
If we all got religion in the same way> the devil might go to 


sleep ttith a fegula? Rip Van Winkle snooze and still be on 
the job. 

Look at Nicodemus. You could never get a man with 
the temperament of Nicodemus near a camp meeting, to 
kneel down in the straw, or to shout and sing. He was a 
quiet, thoughtful, honest, sincere and cautious man. He 
wanted to know the truth and he was willing to walk in 
the light when he found it. 

Look at the man at the pool of Bethesda. He was a 
big sinner and was in a lot of trouble which his sins had made 
for him. He had been in that condition for a long time. It 
didn't take him three minutes to say "Yes/' when the Lord 
spoke to him. See how quietly he was converted. 

5 s And He Arose and Followed Him'' 

Matthew stood in the presence of Christ and he realized 
what it would be to be without Christ, to be without hope, 
and it brought him to a quick decision. "And he arose and 
followed him." 

How long did that conversion take? How long did it 
take him to accept Christ after he had made up his mind? 
And you tell me you can't make an instant decision to please 
God? The decision of Matthew proves that you can. 
While he was sitting at his desk he was not a disciple. The 
instant he arose he was. That move changed his attitude 
toward God. Then he ceased to do evil and commenced to 
do good. You can be converted just as quickly as Matthew 

God says: "Let the wicked man forsake his way." 
The instant that is done, no matter if the man has been 
a life-long sinner, he is safe. There is no need of struggling 
for hours or for days do it now. Who are you struggling 
with? Not God, God ? s mind was made up long before the 
foundations of the earth were laid. The plan of salvation 
was made long before there was any sin in the world. Elec 
tricity existed long before there was any car wheel for it to 
drive. "Let the wicked man forsake his way." When? 

"THE 153 

Within a month, within a week, within a day, within an 
hour? No! Now! The instant you yield, God's plan of 
salvation is thrown into gear. You will be saved before you 
know it, like a child being born. 

Rising and following Christ switched Matthew from 
the broad to the narrow way. He must have counted the 
cost as he would have balanced his cash book. He put one 
side against the other. The life he was living led to all 
chance of gain. On the other side there was Jesus, and 
Jesus outweighs all else. He saw the balance turn as the 
tide of a battle turns and then it ended with his decision, 
The sinner died and the disciple was born. 

I believe that the reason the story of Matthew was 
written was to show how a man could be converted quickly 
and quietly. It didn't take him five or ten years to begin 
to do something he got busy right away. 

You don't believe in quick conversions? There have 
been a dozen men of modern times who have been powers 
for God whose conversion was as quiet as Matthew's. 
Charles G. Finney never went to a camp meeting. He was 
out in the woods alone, praying, when he was converted. 
Sam Jones, a mighty man of God, was converted at the 
bedside of his dying father. Moody accepted Christ while 
waiting on a customer in a boot and shoe store. Dr. Chap 
man was converted as a boy in a Sunday school. All the 
other boys in the class had accepted Christ, and only Wilbur 
remained. The teacher turned to him and said, "And how 
about you, Wilbur?" He said, "I will," and he turned 
to Christ and has been one of his most powerful evangelists 
for many years. Gipsy Smith was converted in his father's 
tent. Torrey was an agnostic, and in comparing agnosticism, 
infidelity and Christianity, he found the scale tipped toward 
Christ. Luther was converted as he crawled up a flight of 
stairs in Rome. 

Seemingly the men who have moved the world for 
Christ have been converted in a quiet manner. The way 
to judge a tree is by its fruit. Judge a tree of quiet con 
version IB this way. 


Another lesson. When conversion compels people to 
forsake their previous calling, God gives them a better job, 
Luke said, "He left all." Little did he dream that Ms 
influence would be world-reaching and eternity-covering. 
His position as tax-collector seemed like a big job, but it was 
picking up pins compared to the job God gave him. Some 
of you may be holding back for fear of being put out of your 
job. If you do right God will see that you do not suffer. 
He has given plenty of promises, and if you plant your feet 
on them you can defy the poor-house. Trust in the Lord 
means that God will feed you. Following Christ you may 
discover a gold mine of ability that you never dreamed of 
possessing. There was a saloon-keeper, converted in a 
meeting at New Castle, who won hundreds of people to 
Christ by his testimony and his preaching, 

You do not need to be in the church before the voice 
oomes to you; you don't need to be reading the Bible; 
you don ? t need to be rich or poor or learned. Wherever 
Christ comes follow. You may be converted while engaged 
in your daily business. Men cannot put up a wall and keep 
Jesus away. The still small voice will find you. 

At the Cross-roads 

Right where the two roads through life diverge God 

has put Calvary. There he put up a cross, the stumbling 
block over which the love of God said, "I'll touch the heart 
of man with the thought of father and son/' He thought 
that would win the world to him, but for nineteen hundred 
years men have climbed the Mount of Calvary and trampled 
Into the earth the tenderest teachings of God. 

You are on the devil's side. How are you going to 
cross over? 

So you cross the line and God won't issue any extradi 
tion papers. Some of you want to cross. If you believe, 
then say so, and step across. I'll bet there are hundreds 
that are on the edge of the line and many are standing 
straddling it. But that won't save you. You believe in 


your heart confess Mm with your mouth, With his heart 
man believes and with his mouth he confesses. Then confess 
and receive salvation full, free, perfect and external. God 
will not grant^any extradition papers. Get over the old 
line. A man isn't a soldier because he wears a uniform^ 
or carries a gun, or carries a canteen. He is a soldier when 
he makes a definite enlistment. All of the others can be 
bought without enlisting. When a man becomes a soldier 
he goes out on muster day and takes an oath to defend his 
country. It's the oath that makes him a soldier. Going 
to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than going 
to a garage makes you an automobile, but public definite 
enlistment for Christ makes you a Christian. 

"Oh," a woman said to me out in Iowa, "Mr. Sunday, 
I don't think I have to confess with my mouth/' I said : 
"You're putting up your thought against God's." 

M-o-u-t-h doesn't spell intellect. It spells mouth and 
you must confess with your mouth. The mouth is the 
biggest part about most people, anyhow. 

What must I do? 

Philosophy doesn't answer it. Infidelity doesn't 
answer it. First, "believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou 
shalt be saved." Believe on the Lord. Lord that's 
Ms kingly name. That's the name he reigns under. ' ' Thou 
shalt call his name Jesus." It takes that kind of a confession. 
Give me a Saviour with a sympathetic eye to watch me so I 
shall not slander. Give me .a Saviour with a strong arm 
to catch me if I stumble- Give me a Saviour that will 
hear my slightest moan. 

Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and be saved. Christ 
is his resurrection name. He is sitting at the right hand 
of the Father interceding for us. 

Because of Ms divinity he understands God's side of 
it and because of Ms humanity he understands our side of it. 
Who is better qualified to be the mediator? He's a mediator. 
What is that? A lawyer is a mediator between the jury and 
the defendant, A retail merchant is a mediator between 


the wholesale dealer and the consumer. Therefore, Jesus 
Christ is the Mediator between God and man. Believe on 
the Lord. He's ruling today. Believe on the Lord Jesus. 
He died to save us* Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. 
He's the Mediator. 

Her majesty, Queen Victoria, was traveling in Scotland 
when a storm came up and she took refuge in a little hut of 
a Highlander. She stayed there for an hour and when she 
went the good wife said to her husband, " Well tie a ribbon 
on that chair because her majesty has sat on it and no one 
else will ever sit on it." A friend of mine was there later and 
was going to sit in the chair when the man cried: "Nae, 
nae, mon, Dinna sit there. Her majesty spent an hour 
with us once and she sat on that chair and we tied a ribbon 
on it and no one else will ever sit on it." They were honored 
that her majesty had spent the hour with them. It brought 
unspeakable joy to them. 

It's great that Jesus Christ will sit on the throne of my 
heart, not for an hour, but here to sway his power forever 
and ever. 

"He Died for Me" 

In the war there was a band of guerillas QuantrelFs 
band that had been ordered to be shot on sight. They had 
burned a town in Iowa and they had been caught. One 
long ditch was dug and they were lined up in front of it 
and blindfolded and tied, and just as the firing squad was 
ready to present arms a young man dashed through the 
bushes and cried, "Stop!" He told the commander of the 
firing squad that he was as guilty as any of the others, but 
he had escaped and had come of his own free will, and 
pointed to one man in the line and asked to take his place. 
"I'm single," he said, "while he has a wife and babies." 
The commander of that firing squad was an usher in one of 
the cities in which I held meetings, and he told me how the 
young fellow was blindfolded and bound and the guns rang 
out and he fell dead. 


Time went on and one day a man came upon another in 
a graveyard in Missouri weeping and shaping the grave into 
form. The first man asked who was buried there and the 
other said, "The best friend I ever had," Then he told how- 
he had not gone far away but had come back and got the 
body of his friend after he had been shot and buried it; 
so he knew he had the right body. And he had brought a 
withered bouquet all the way from his home to put on the 
grave. He was poor then and could not afford anything 
costly, but he had placed a slab of wood on the pliable 
earth with these words on it: "He died for me." 

Major Whittle stood by the grave some time later and 
saw the same monument. If you go there now you will see 
something different. The man became rich and today there 
is a marble monument fifteen feet high and on it this 




Sacred to the memory of Jesus Christ. He took our 
place on the cross and gave his life that we might live, and 
go to heaven and reign with him. 

" Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, confess him with thy 
mouth, and thou shalt be saved and thy house." 

It is a great salvation that can reach down into the 
quagmire of filth, pull a young man out and send him out 
to hunt his mother and fill her days with sunshine. It is a 
great salvation, for it saves from great sin. 

The way to salvation is not Harvard, Yale, Princeton, 
Vassar or Wellesley, Environment and culture can't put 
you into heaven without you accept Jesus Christ. 

It's great. I want to tell you that the way to heaven 
is a blood-stained way. No man has ever reached it without 
Jesus Christ and he never will. 

" the n 

Come and accept my Christ. BILLY SUKDAT, 

PIONEERS are necessarily unconventional. America 
has done more than transform a wilderness into a 
nation: in the process she has created new forms of 
life and of speech. Back from the frontier has come a new, 
terse, vigorous and pictorial language. Much of it has 
found its way into the dictionaries. The newer West uses 
the word "" trail" first employed to designate the traces 
left by traveling Indians to designate a path. The 
lumbermen ^commonly call the woods roads "trails." 

Imagine a lumberman lost in the big woods. He has 
wandered,' Jbewildered, for days. Death stares Mm in the 
face. Then, spent and affrighted, he comes to a trail. 
And the trail leads to life; it is the way home. 

There we have the origin of the expression "Hitting 
the sawdust trail," used in Mr. Sunday's meetings as a 
term similar to the older stereotyped phrases: "Going 
forward"; "Seeking the altar." The more conventional 
method, used by the other evangelists, is to ask for a show 
of hands. 

Out in the Puget Sound country, where the sawdust 
aisles and the rough tabernacle made an especial appeal to 
the woodsmen, the phrase "Hitting the sawdust trail" 
came into use in Mr. Sunday's meetings. The figure was 
luminous. For was not this the trail that led the lost to 
salvation, the way home to the Father's house? 

The metaphor appealed to the American public, which 
relishes all that savors of our people's most primitive life. 
Besides, the novel designation serves well the taste of a 
liation which is singularly reticent concerning its finer 
feelings, and delights to cloak its loftiest sentiments beneath 



slang phrases. The person who rails at "hitting the trail " 
as an irreverent phrase has something to learn about the 
mind of Americans. Tens of thousands of persons have 
enshrined the homely phxase in the sanctuary of their deep 
est spiritual experience. 

The scene itself, when Mr. Sunday calls for converts 
to come forward and take his hand, in token of their pur 
pose to accept and follow Christ, is simply beyond words. 
Human speech cannot do justice to the picture. For 
good reason. This is one of those crises in human life the 
portrayal of which makes the highest form of literature. 
A Victor Hugo could find a dozen novels in each night's 
experience in the Sunday Tabernacle. 

This is an hour of bared souls. The great transaction 
between man and his Maker is under way. The streams of 
life are here changing their course. Character and destiny 
are being altered. The old Roman "Sacramentum," when 
the soldiers gave allegiance with uplifted hand, crying, 
"This for me! This for me!" could not have been 
more impressive than one of these great outpourings of 
human life up the sawdust aisle to the pulpit,- to grasp the 
preacher's hand, in declaration that henceforth their 
all would be dedicated to the Christ of Calvary. 

The greatness of the scene is at first incomprehensible. 
There are no parallels for it in all the history of Protes 
tantism. This unschooled American commoner, who could 
not pass the entrance examinations of any theological 
seminary in the land, has publicly grasped the hands of 
approximately a quarter of a million persons, who by that 
token have said, in the presence of the great congregation, 
that they thereby vowed allegiance to their Saviour and 
Lord. Moody, Whitefield, Finney, have left no such 
record of converts as this, 

A dramatic imagination is needed to perceive even a 
fragment of what is meant by this army of Christian 
recruits. The magnitude of the host is scarcely revealed 
by the statement that these converts more than equal the 


numbe? of inhabitants of the states of Delaware or Arizona 
at the last census, and far surpass those of Nevada and 
Wyoming. Imagine a state made up wholly of zealous 
disciples of Christ! Of the one hundred largest cities in 
the United States there are only nineteen with more in 
habitants than the total number of persons who have 
"hit the trail' 7 at the Sunday meetings. 

Break up that vast host into its component parts, 
Each is an individual whose experience is as real and dis 
tinctive as if there never had been another human soul 
to come face to face with God. To one the act means 
a clean break with a life of open sin. To another it implies 
a restored home and a return to respectability. To this 
young person it signifies entrance upon a life of Christian 
service; to that one a separation from all old associations. 
Some must give up unworthy callings. Other must heal 
old feuds and make restitution for ancient wrongs. One 
young woman in accepting Christ knows that she must 
reject the man she had meant to marry. To many men 
it implies a severance of old political relations. Far and 
wide and deep this sawdust trail runs; and the record is 
written in the sweat of agonizing souls and in the red of 
human blood. 

The consequences of conversion stagger the imagina 
tion: this process is still the greatest social force of the 


Little wonder that persons of discernment journey 
long distances to attend a Sunday meeting, and to witness 
this appeal for converts to "hit the trail." I traveled 
several hundred miles to see it for the first time, and 
would go across the continent to see it again. For this 
is vital religion. If a wedding casts its dramatic spell upon 
the imagination; if a political election stirs the sluggish 
deeps of the popular mind; if a battle calls for newspaper 
"extras".; if an execution arrests popular attention by its 
element of the mystery of life becoming death then, by 
so much and more, this critical, decisive moment in the 


lives of living men and women grips the mind by its intense 
human interest. What issues, for time and eternity, are 
being determined by this step! The great romance is 
enacted daily at the Sunday meetings. 

For these converts are intent upon the most sacred 
experience that ever comes to mortal. Through what soul 
struggles they have passed, what renunciations they have 
made, what futures they front, only God and heaven's 
hosts know. The crowd dimly senses all this. There is 
an instinctive appreciation of the dramatic in the multi 
tude. So the evangelist's appeal is followed by an added 
tenseness, a straining of necks and a general rising to 
behold the expected procession. 

A more simple and unecclesiastical setting for this 
tremendous scene could scarcely be devised. The plain 
board platform, about six feet high, and fifteen feet long, 
is covered by a carpet. Its only furniture is a second-hand 
walnut pulpit, directly under the huge sounding board; 
and one plain wooden chair, "a kitchen chair/' a housewife 
would call it. Then the invitation is given for all who 
want to come out on the side of Christ to come forward 
and grasp Sunday's hand. 

See them come! From all parts of the vast building 
they press forward. Nearly everyone is taking this step 
before the eyes of friends, neighbors, work-fellows. It 
calls for courage, for this is a life enlistment. Behold the 
young men crowding toward the platform, where the help 
ers form them into a swiftly moving line dozens and 
scores of boys and men in the first flush of manhood. 
Occasionally an old person is in the line; oftener it is a 
boy or girl. There goes a mother with her son. 

How differently the converts act. Some have stream 
ing eyes. Others wear faces radiant with the light of a 
new hope* Still others have the tense, set features of 
gladiators entering the arena. For minute after minute 
the procession continues. When a well-known person goes 
forward, the crowd cheers. 



As I have studied Mr. Sunday in the act of taking 
the hands of converts one memorable night more than 
five hundred at the rate of fifty-seven a minute the sym 
bolism of his hand has appealed to my imagination, 

Surprisingly small and straight and surprisingly strong 
it is. Base-ball battles have left no scars upon it. The 
lines are strong and deep and clear. The hand is "in 
condition"; no flabbiness about it. There are no rings 
on either of Mr. Sunday's hands, except a plain gold wed 
ding ring on the left third finger, 

No outstretched hand of military commander ever 
pointed such a host to so great a battle. Is there any 
where a royal hand, wielding a scepter over a nation, which 
has symbolized so much vital influence as this short, firm 
hand of a typical American commoner? The soldier sent 
on a desperate mission asked Wellington for "one grasp 
of your* conquering hand." A conquering hand, a help 
ing hand, an uplifting hand, an upward-pointing hand, is 
this which once won fame by handling a base ball. 

Conceive of the vast variety of hands that have been 
reached up to grasp this one, and what those hands have 
since done for the world's betterment! Two hundred 
thousand dedicated right hands, still a-tingle with the 
touch of this inviting hand of the preacher of the gospel! 
The picture of Sunday's right hand belongs in the archives 
of contemporary religious history. 

No stage manager could ever set so great a scene as 
this. The vastness of it sixteen or seventeen thousand 
eyes all centered on one ordinary-looking American on a 
high green-carpeted platform, a veritable "sea of faces" 
is not more impressive than the details which an observer 
picks out. 

The multitudes are of the sort who thronged the Gali 
lean; plain people, home-keeping women, seldom seen in 
public places; mechanics, clerks, the great American com 
monalty. Again and again one is impressed from some 
fresh angle with the democracy of it all; this man some* 


how appeals to that popular sense wherein all special tastes 
and interests merge. 

The dbdck is a sight beyond words* The ice of con 
ventionality breaks up, and the tide of human feeling floods 
forth. From every part of the great tabernacle from the 
front seats, where you have been studying the personalities, 
and from the distant rear, where all the faces merge into 
an impersonal mass persons begin to stream forward. 
See how they come. The moment is electric. Every 
body is on the gui vive. 

The first to take the evangelist's hand is a young 
colored boy. The girl who follows may be a stenographer. 
Young men are a large part of the recruits; here come a 
dozen fine-looking members of an athletic club in a body, 
while the crowd cheers; evidently somebody has been doing 
personal work there. 

Contrasts are too common to mention. There is a 
delicate lady's kid-gloved hand reached up to that of the 
evangelist; the next is the grimy, calloused hand of a blue- 
shirted miner. The average is of young men and women, 
the choice and the mighty members of a community. Is 
the world to find a new moral or religious leader in the 
person of some one of these bright-faced youth who tonight 
have made this sign of dedication? 

And here comes an old man, with a strong face; evi 
dently a personality of force. Twice the evangelist pats 
the head bowed before -him, in pleasure over this aged 
recruit. He seems reluctant to let the old man go; but, 
see the children crowd behind him, and no convert can 
have more than a handclasp and a word. 

All around the platform the crowd resembles a hive 
of bees just before swarming. Stir, motion, animation 
seem to create a scene of confusion. But there is order 
and purpose in it all. The occupants of the front seats 
are being moved out to make way for the converts, who 
are there to be talked with, and to sign the cards that are 
to be turned over to the local pastors. 


Personal workers are getting into action. See the 
ministers streaming down into the fray! There goes the 
Young Men's Christian Association secretary, and the 
Salvation Army soldiers, and the members of the choir, 
wearing Christian Endeavor and Bible class badges. This 
is religion in action. Can these church members ever 
again lapse into dead conventionality? 

Meanwhile, Rodeheaver, the chorister, leans upon the 
piano and softly leads the great choir in "Almost Per 
suaded." The musical invitation continues while the work 
goes on in front. It is undisturbed by an occasional appeal 
from the evangelist. The song quickly changes to "Oh, 
Where Is My Wandering Boy Tonight?" and then, as 
the volume of penitents increases, into "I Am Coming 
Home" and "Ring the Bells of Heaven, There is Joy 
Today!" All this is psychological; it fosters the mood 
which the sermon has created. Music mellows ,as many 
hearts as spoken words., 

All the while Sunday is shaking hands. At first he 
leans far over, for the platform is more than six feet high. 
Sometimes it seems as if he will lose his balance. To 
reach down he stands on his left foot, with his right leg 
extended straight behind him, the foot higher than his 
head. No one posture is retained long. Often he dips 
down with a swinging circular motion, like a pitcher about 
to throw a ball. Never was man more lavish of his vital 
energy than this one. His face is white and tense and 
drawn; work such as this makes terrific draughts on a 
man's nerve force. 

As the converts increase, he lifts a trapdoor in the 
platform, which permits him to stand three feet nearer 
the people. Still they come, often each led by some per 
sonal worker. I saw a Scandinavian led forward in one 
meeting; ten minutes later I saw him bringing his wife 
up the trail. Some of the faces are radiant with a new 
joy. Others are set at a nervous tension. Some jaws are 
grim and working, revea^g the inner conflict which has 
resulted in this step. 



A collariess, ragged, weak-faced slave of dissipation is 
next in line to a beautiful girl in the dew of her youth. 
An old, wMte-wooled negro, leaning on a staff, is led for 
ward. Then a little child. Here are veritably all sorts 
and conditions of people, 

In the particular session I am describing, a big dele 
gation of railroad 
men is present, and 
the evangelist keeps 
turning to them, 
with an occasional 
"Come on, Erie!" 
The memories of his 
own days as a rail 
road brakeman are 
evidently working 
within him, and he 
seizes a green lan 
tern and waves it. 
"A clear track 
ahead!" Toward 
these men he is most 
urgent, beckoning 
them also with a 
white railroad flag 
which he has taken 
from the 

firm a "WTvors 

uons. vv nen 

master mechanic 

"hits the tail" 

there is cheering from the crowd, and Sunday himself 

shows a delight that was exhibited over none of the 

society folk who came forward. 

Rare and remarkable as are these scenes in religious 
history, they occur nightly in the Sunday tabernacle. Two 
hundred, three hundred, five hundred, one thousand con 
verts are common. 




Anybody interested in life and in the phenomena of 
religion will find this occasion the most interesting scene 
at present to be witnessed in the whole world. As for the 
novelist, this is the human soul bared^ and beyond the 
compass of his highest art. 

^ ^For life is at Its apex when, in new resolution! a mortal 
spirit makes compact with the Almighty. 

The Service of Society 

A lot of people think a man needs a new grandfather, sanitation, and a 
new shirt, when what he needs is a new heart. BILLY STTNBAY. 

SOME day a learned university professor, with a string 
of titles after Ms name, mil startle the world by breaking 
away from the present conventionalism in sociology, 
and will conduct elaborate laboratory experiments in human 
betterment on the field of a Billy Sunday campaign. His 
conclusion will surely be that the most potent force for the 
service of society the shortest, surest way of bettering the^ 
human race is by the fresh, clear, sincere and insistent) 
preaching of jthe Gospel of Jesus Christ. 

Of course, the New Testament has been teaching that 
for nearly twenty centuries, but the world has not yet 
comprehended the practicability of the program. Your 
learned professor may prove, by literally thousands of 
incidents, that honesty, chastity, brotherliness, and idealism 
have been more 2e2nitely promoted by revivals of religion, 
than by legislative or educational programs. All that: 
the social reformers of our day desire may be most quickly 
secured by straight-out preaching of the Gospel. The short 
cut to a better socialjordeHs by way of converted men and 
women. And when aTmbdern scholar comes to demonstrate 
this he will draw largely upon the aftermath of the Sunday 
campaigns for Ms contemporaneous evidence. 

If there is one phrase which, better than another, can 
describe a Billy Sunday campaign it is "restitution and 
rightg8MSSS" In season and out, the evangelist insists 
upon a changed life as the first consequence of conversion. 
His message runs on this wise: 

"You ought to live so that every one who comes near 
you will know that you are a Christian. Do you? Does 




your milkman know that you are a Christian? Does the 
man who brings your laundry know that you belong to 
church? Does the man who hauls away your ashes know 
that you are a Christian? Does, your newsboy know that 
you have religion? Does the butcher know that you are 
on your way to heaven? Some of you buy meat on Saturday 
night, and have him deliver it Sunday morning, just to save 

a little ice, and 
then you wonder 
why he doesn't go 
to church. 

"If you^had 
to get into heaven 
on the testimony 
of your washer 
woman, could you 
make it? If your 
getting into 
heaven depended 
on what your 
dressmaker knows 
about your relig 
ion, would you 
land? If your 
husband had to 
gain admittance 
to heaven on the 
testimony of his 

stenographer, could he do it? If his salvation ^degended 
on what his clerks tell about him, would he get there? A 
man ought to be as religious in business as He is in church. 
He ought to be as religious in buying and selling as he is 
in praying. ...... _ 

" There are so many church members who are not even 
known in their own neighborhood as Christians. Out in 
Iowa where a meeting was held, a man made up Ms mind 
that he would try to get an old sinner into the Kingdom, 



and after chasing him i around for three days he finally 
cornered him. Then he talked to that old fellow for two 
hours, and then the old scoundrel stroked his whiskers, and 
what do you think he said? 'Why, IVe been a member of 
the church down there for fourteen years/ Just think of 
it! A member of the church fourteen years, and a man had 
to chase IhVi three days, and talk with him two hours to 
find it out. 

".you have let Jesus in? Yes^ but you have put him in 
the spare-room. You don't want him in the rooms where you 
live. Take hi down intqjhe living-room. Take him into 
the dining-room. Take hinTinto the parlor. Take him 
into the kitchen. Live with him. Make him one of the 

Then follows a Sundayesque description of how Jesus 
would find beer in the refrigerator and throw it out; how 
he would find cards on the table and throw them out; how 
he would find nasty music on the piano and throw it out; 
how he would find cigarettes and throw them out. 

"If you haven't Jesus in the rooms you live in, it's 
because you don't want him/' he says. "You're afraid of 
one of two things: you're afraid because of the things he'll 
throw out if he comes in, or you're afraid because of the 
things he'll bring with him if he comes in." 

Here is how a great newspaper, the Philadelphia North 
Ammom/characterizes the ethical and political effectiveness 
of Mr. Sunday: 

Billy Sunday, derided by many as a sensational 
evangelist, has created a political revolution in Allegheny 
County. What years of reform work could not do he has 
wrought in a few short weeks. Old line "practical" politi 
cians, the men who did the dirty work for the political gang, 
are now zealous for temperance, righteousness and religion. 

Judges on the bench, grand dames of society, million-, 
aire business men, in common with the great host of undis 
tinguished men and women in homes, mills, offices, and shops, 
have been fired by this amazing prophet with burning zeal 
for practical religion. 


An unexpected, unpredicted and unprecedented social 
force has been unleashed in our midst. Not to reckon with 
this is to be blind to the phase of Sunday's work which bulks 
larger than Ms picturesque vocabulary or Ms acrobatic 

In the presence of this man's work all attempts to 
classify religious activities as either "evangelistic" or 
"social service" fall into confusion, 

Sunday could claim for Mmself that he's an evangelist, 
and an evangelist only. He repudiates a Christian program 
that is merely palliative or ameliorative. To his thinking 
the Church has more fundamental business than running 
soup kitchens or gymnasiums or oyster suppers^ All Ms 
peerless powers of ridicule are frequently turned upon the 
frail and lonely oyster in. the tureen of a money-making 
church supper. 

Nevertheless, the results of Sunday's preaching are 
primarily social and ethical. He is a veritable besom of 
righteousness sweeping through a community. The wife 
who neglects her cooking, mending and home-making; 
the employer who does not deal squarely with Ms workers; 
the rich man who rents his property for low purposes or is 
tied up in crooked business in any wise; the workman who 
is not on "Ms job"; the gossip and the slanderer; the idle 
creatures of fasMon; the Christian who is not a good person 
to live with, the selfish, the sour, the unbrotherly all these 
find themselves under the devastating harrow of this flaming 
preacher's biting, burning, excoriating condemnation. "A 
scourge for morality" is the way one minister described 
Mm; he is that, and far more. 

After the whole field of philanthropy and reform have 
been traversed it still remains true that the fundamental 
reform of all is the cleaning up of the lives and the lifting up 
of the ideals of the people. That is indisputably what 
Sunday does. He sweetens life and promotes a wholesome, 
friendly, helpful and cheerful state of mind on the part of 
those whom he influences. 


Assuredly It Is basic betterment to cause men to quit 
their drunkenness and lechery and profanity* All the white- 
slave or social-evil commissions that have ever met have 
done less to put a passion for purity into the minds of men 
and women than this one man's preaching has done- The 
safest communities in the country for young men and young 
women are those which have been through a Billy Sunday 

One cannot cease to exult at the fashion in which the 
evangelist makes the Gospel synonymous with clean living. 
All the considerations that weigh to lead persons to go 
forward to grasp the evangelist's hand, also operate to make 
them partisans of purity and probity. 

Put into three terse phrases, Sunday's whole message is: 
"Quit your meanness. Confess Christ. Get busy for, Mm, 
among men." There are no finely spun spiritual sophistries 
in Sunday's preaching. He sometimes speaks quite rudely 
of that conception of a "higher spiritual life" which draws 
Christians apart from the world in a self-complacent con 
sciousness of superiority. 

His is not a mystical, meditative faith. It is dynamic, 
practical, immediate. According to his ever-recurring 
reasoning, if one is not passing on the fruits of religion to 
somebody else if one is not hitting hard blows at the devU 
or really doing definite tasks for God and the other man 
then one has not the real brand of Christianity. Sunday's 
preaching has hands, with " punch, 3 ' to them, as well as 
lift; and feet, with "kick" in them, as well as ministry. 

Like a colliery mined on many levels, Sunday's preach 
ing reaches all classes. Everybody can appreciate the social 
service value of converting a gutter bum and making him a 
self-supporting workman. Is it any less social service to 
convert a man I cite an actual instance from Pittsburgh 
who had lately lost a twelve-thousand-doilar-a-year position 
through dissipMion, and so thoroughly to help him find him 
self that Before te meetings were over he was back in his 
old office, once more drawing one thousand dollars a month? 


To a student of these campaigns, It seems as if business 
has sensed, better than the preachers, the economic waste of 
of sin. 

A careful and discriminating thinker, the Rev. Joseph 
H. Odell, D.D., formerly pastor of the Second Presbyterian 
Church of Scranton, wrote an estimate of Billy Sunday and 
his work for The Outlook, in which he explains why his 
church, which had been opposed to the coming of the 
evangelist, reversed its vote: 

Testimony, direct and cumulative, reached the ears of 
the same refined and reverent men and women. The young 
business men, even those from the great universities, paused 
to consider. The testimony that changed the attitudes of 
the Church came from judges, lawyers, heads of corporations 
and well-known society leaders in their respective communi 
ties. The testimony was phenomenally concurrent in this: 
that, while it did not endorse the revivalist's methods, or 
accept Ms theological system, or condone his roughness and 
rudeness, it proved that the preaching produced results. 

" Produced results 1" Every one understood the phrase ; 
in the business world it is talismanic. As the result of the 
Billy Sunday campaigns anywhere and everywhere drunk 
ards became sober, thieves became honest, multitudes 
of people engaged themselves in the study of the Bible, 
thousands confessed their fafffi in Jesus Christ as the Saviour 
of the world, and all the quiescent righteousness of the 
community grew brave and belligerent against vice, intem 
perance, gambling, and political dishonesty. 

During the last week of February I went to Pittsburgh 
for the purpose of eliciting interest in the candidacy of J. Ben 
jamin Dimmick for the nomination of United States Senator. 
Billy Sunday had closed his Pittsburgh campaign a few days 
earlier. My task was easy. A group of practical politicians 
met Mr. Dimmick at dinner. They were the men who had 
worked the wards of Allegheny County on behalf of Penrose 
and the liquor interests for years. Together they were worth 
many thousands of votes to any candidate; in fact, they 
were the political balance of power in that county. They 
knew everything that men could know about the ballot, and 


some things that no man should know. Solidly, resolutely, 
and passionately they repudiated Penrose. "No one can get 
our endorsement in Allegheny County, even for the office of 
dog-catcher, who is not anti-booze and anti-Penrose," they 
asserted. When asked the secret of their crusader-like zeal 
against the alliance of liquor and politics, they frankly 
ascribed it to Billy Sunday; they had be^n born again no 
idle phrase with them in the vast whale-back tabernacle 
under the preaching of the base-ball evangelist. 

Billy Sunday deals with the very springs of action; 
he seeks to help men get right back to the furthermost 
motives of the mind. "If you're born again, you won't 
live knowingly in sin. This does not mean that a Christian 
cannot sin, but that he does not want to sin." This truth 
the evangelist illustrates by the difference between a hog 
and a sheep. The sheep may fall into the mud, but it hates 
it and scrambles out. A hog loves the mud and wallows 
in it. 

Nobody can measure the results of the social forces 
which this simple-thinking evangelist sets to work. His 
own figure of the dwarf who could switch on the electric 
lights in a room as easily as a giant, comes to mind. He has 
sent into Christian work men who can do a kind of service 
impossible to Sunday himself. Thus, one of Sunday'^ 
converts out in Wichita, two years ago, was Henry J. 
Allen, editor of The Beacon and Progressive candidate for 
governor. Mr. Allen became a member of one of the 
celebrated "Gospel Teams," which, since the Sunday 
meetings, have been touring Kansas and neighboring states 
and have won more than eleven thousand converts. It was 
in a meeting held by this band that^WMfm^Aflim^White^ 
the famous editor, author and publisher, toot a definite 
stand for Christ and Christian work. One of the most 
interesting facts about Sunday's work is this one that the 
three greatest editors in the State of Kansas today are his 
direct or indirect converts. An "endless chain" letter 
would be easier to overtake than the effects of a Sunday 
revival campaign. 


In the face of the mass of testimony of .this sort is it 
any wonder that business men deem a Sunday campaign 
worth all it costs, merely as an ethical movement? The 
quickest and cheapest way to improve morals and the morale 
of a city is by a revival of religion. Thus it is illuminating 
to learn that there were 650 fewer inmates in the Allegheny 
County jail, during the period of the Sunday revival meet 
ings, than during the same time in the preceding year. 

From Pittsburgh also comes the remarkable story that, 
the Cambria Steel Company, one of the largest steel concerns 
in the country, has established a religious department in 
connection with its plant, and placed a regularly ordained 
minister in charge of it. This as an avowed result of the 
Sunday campaign. 

The Rev. Dr. Maitland Alexander, D.D., pastor of 
the First Presbyterian Church of Pittsburgh, is sponsor for 
this news, and he also declares that nine department stores 
of Pittsburgh are now holding prayer-meetings every morn 
ing at eight o'clock. These two statements are taken from 
Dr. Alexander's address to a body of ministers in New York 
City. He is reported to have said also : 

Billy Sunday succeeded in moving the city of Pitts 
burgh from one end to the other. That, to my mind, 
was the greatest result of the meetings. It is easy to talk 
about religion now in Pittsburgh. Men especially are think- 
ing of it as never before, and the great majority are no longer 
in the middle of the road. They are on one side or the other. 
I never knew a man who could speak to men with such 
telling effect as Billy Sunday. I covet his ability to make men 
listen to him. 

It was necessary in my own church, which when* packed, 
holds 3200 persons, to hold special meetings for different 
groups, such as lawyers, doctors, bankers, etc., and they 
were always crowded. In the big tabernacle, which was built 
for the campaign and holds more than 20,000 persons, the 
men from the big steel shops, after the second week, came in 
bodies of from one to three thousand, in many cases headed 
by their leading officers. 


Dr. Alexander said that up to the time of this address 
the Sunday campaign had added 419 members to Ms own 

One of the striking consequences of the Sunday cam 
paign in Scranton was the development of the " Garage 
Bible Class." This was originally a Wilkes-Barre poker 
club. As the story was told by Mr.Thos. H. Atherton, a 
Wilkes-Barre attorney, to the same New York meeting that 
Dr. Alexander addressed, the Garage Bible Class was 
originally a group of wealthy men meeting at different 
homes every week for a poker game. One man bet a friend 
fifteen dollars that he wouldn't go to hear Billy Sunday. 
One by one, however, the men found themselves unable 
to resist the lure of the Tabernacle. As a result the poker 
club was abandoned, and in a garage belonging to one of 
the men they organized a Bible class which now has about 
a hundred members. They have adopted a rule that no 
Christian shall be added to their ranks. They make their 
own Christians out of the unconverted. 

From this episode one gets some conception of the tug 
and pull of the Sunday Tabernacle. The temptation to 
attend becomes well nigh irresistible. All the streams of 
the community life flow toward the great edifice where the 
base-ball evangelist enunciates his simple message. A 
writer in The Churchman said, following the Pittsburgh 

This evangelist made religion a subject of ordinary 
conversation. People talked about their souls as freely as 
about their breakfast. He went into the homes of the rich, 
dropped his wildness of speech, and made society women cry 
with shame and contrition. One's eternal welfare became 
the topic of the dinner table, not only in the slums but in the 
houses of fashion. It sounds incredible, and it is not a fact 
to be grasped by the mere reading of it, but the citizens of 
Pittsburgh forgot to be ashamed to mention prayer and 
forgiveness of sin; the name of Christ began to be used with 
simpleness and readiness and reverence by men who, two 


months ago, employed it only as a by-word. City politi 
cians came forward in the meeting and asked for prayer. 
The daily newspapers gave more space to salvation than they 
did to scandal, not for one day, but for day after day and 

week after week. As a mere spectacle of a whole modern 
city enthralled by the Gospel it was astonishing, unbeliev 
able, unprecedented, prodigious. 

Because he preaches both to employers and to employed, 
Sunday is able to apply the healing salt of the gospel at the 
point of contact between the two. From Columbus it is 
reported that a number of business men voluntarily increased 
the wages of their helpers, especially the women, because of 
the evangelist's utterances. 

A horse jockey out West reached the core of the matter 
when he said to a friend of mine concerning Billy Sunday, 
"He sets people to thinking about other people." There 
you have the genesis and genius and goal of social service. 
No other force that operates among men is equal to the 
inspirations and inhibitions of the Christian religion in the 
minds of individuals. The greatest service that can be 
done to any community is to set a considerable proportion 
of its people to endeavoring honestly to live out the ideals 
of Jesus Christ. 

It is simply impossible to enumerate anything like a 
representative number of incidents of the community value 
of Billy Sunday's work. They come from every angle and 
in the most unexpected ways. A banker, who is not a 
member of any church, showed me the other day a letter 
he had received from a man who had defrauded him, out of 
a small sum of money years before. The banker had never 
known anything about the matter and did not recall the 
man's name. What did amaze him, and set him, to showing 
the letter to all of his friends, was this man's restitution, 
accompanied by an out-spoken testimony to his new dis- 
cipleship to Jesus Christ, upon which he had entered at the 
inspiration of Billy Sunday. 

The imagination is stirred by a contemplation of what 


these individual cases of regeneration imply. Consider tlie 
homes reunited; consider the happy firesides that once were 
the scene of misery; measure, if you can, the new joy that 
has come to tens of thousands of lives in the knowledge 
that they have given themselves unreservedly to the service 
of Jesus Christ. 

The dramatic, human side of it strikes one ever and 
anon. I chanced to see a young man "hit the trail " at 
Scranton. whose outreachings I had later opportunity to 
follow. The young man is the only son of his parents and 
the hope of two converging family lines. Grandparents 
and parents, uncles and aunts, have pinned all of their 
expectations on this one young man. He was a youth of 
parts and of force and a personality in the community. 
When, on the night of which I write, he came forward up the 
"saw-dust trail" to grasp the evangelist's hand, his aged 
grandfather and Ms mother wept tears of joy. The grand 
father himself also "hit the trail " at the Scranton meetings 
and has since spent his time largely in Christian work. It 
is impossible to say how this young man's future might 
have spelled sorrow or joy for the family circle that had 
concentrated their hopes on him. But now it is clear that 
his conversion has brought to them all a boon such as money 
could not have bought nor kings conferred 

One of the countless instances that may be gleaned in 
any field of Sunday's sowing was related to me the other 
evening by a business man, who, like others, became a 
protagonist of Sunday by going through one of his cam 
paigns. In his city there was a cultivated, middle-aged 
German, a well-known citizen, who was an avowed atheist. 
He openly scoffed at religion. He was unable, however, 
to resist the allurement of the Sunday meetings, and he 
went with Ms wife one night merely to "see the show." 
That one sermon broke down the pMlosophy of years, and 
the atheist and Ms wife became converts of Billy Sunday. 
His three sons followed suit, so that the family of five 
adults were led into the Christian life by this evangelist 


untaught of the schools. One of the sons Is now a member 
of the State Y. M. C. A. Committee. 

A western business man, who Is interested in the 
Young Men's Christian Association, told me that one cold, 
rainy winter's day he happened into the Association Build 
ing in Youngstown, Ohio. He found a crowd of men 
streaming into a meeting, and because the day was so 
unpropitious, he asked the character of the gathering. He 
was told that it was the regular meeting of the Christian 
Workers 5 Band, gathered to report on the week's activities. 
The men had been converted to Christ, or to Christian 
work, by Billy Sunday, and their meeting had continued 
ever since, although it was more than a year since the 
evangelist's presence in Youngstown. Said my friend, 
"That room was crowded. One after another the men 
got up and told what definite Christian work they had 
been doing in the previous seven days. The record was 
wonderful. They had been holding all sorts of meetings 
in all sorts of places, and had been doing a variety of 
personal work besides, so that there were a number of 
converts to be reported at this meeting I attended." To 
have set that force in operation so that it would continue 
to work with undiminished zeal after twelve months of 
routine existence, was a greater achievement than to 
preach one of the Billy Sunday sermons. 

There is a sufficient body of evidence to show that the 
work of Billy Sunday does not end when the evangelist 
leaves the community. He has created a vogue for religion 
and for righteousness. The crowd spirit has been called 
forth to the service of the Master. Young people and old 
have been given a new and overmastering interest in life. 
They have something definite to do for the world and a 
definite crowd with which to ally themselves. 

One result has been a tremendous growth of Bible 
classes for men and women and a manifestation of the 
crusader spirit which makes itself felt in eleaned-up com 
munities and in overthrown corruption in politics. So far 

THE OF 179 

as the Billy Sunday campaigns may be said to have a badge, 
it is the little red and wMte bull's eye of the Organized 
Adult Bible Classes. 

Six months after the Scranton campaign five thousand 
persons attended a "Trail Hitters'/ 7 picnic, where the day's 
events were scheduled under two headings, "athletic" and 
"prayer." When wholesome recreation comes thus to be 
permeated with the spirit of clean and simple devotion 
something like an ideal state of society has come to pass for 
at least one group of people. 

In more ways than the one meant by his critics, Sun 
day's work is sensational What could be more striking 
than the visit on Sunday, October 25, 1914, of approxi 
mately a thousand trail-hitters from Scranton to the 
churches of Philadelphia, to help prepare them for their 
approaching Sunday campaign? Special trains were nec 
essary to bring this great detachment of men the distance 
of three hundred miles. They went forth in bands of 
four, being distributed among the churches of the city, to 
hold morning and evening services, and in the afternoon 
conducting neighborhood mass meetings. These men were 
by no means all trained speakers, but they were witness- 
bearers; and their testimony could scarcely fail to produce 
a powerful influence upon the whole city. That, on a 
large scale, is what Sunday converts are doing in a multi 
tude of places. 

To close this chapter as it began, the truth stands out 
that Billy Sunday has set a host of people to thinking that 
this world's problems are to be solved, and its betterment 
secured, not by any new-fangled methods, but along the old 
and tested line of transforming individual characters through 
the redeeming power of the crucified Son of God. Salvation 
is surest social service. 

The great evangelist's sermons are filled with the life 
stories of the men and women he has saved. The following 
is only one of many: 

"I was at one time in a town in Nebraska and the 


people kept telling me about one man. There is one 
man here, if you can get Mm he is good for one hundred 
men for Christ/ I said: 'Who is he?' 

" ' John Champenoy. He is the miller/ I said to Mr, 
Preston, who was then a minister: 'Have you been to see 
him?' 'No/ I asked another minister if he had been to 
see the fellow and he said no. I asked the United Presby 
terian preacher (they have a college out there), and he said 
no, he hadn't been around to see him, 

"I said: 'Well, I guess Til go around to see him/ I 
found the fellow seated in a chair teetered back against 
the wall, smoking. I said: 'Is this Mr. Champenoy?' 
4 Yes, sir, that's my name/ He got up and took me by the 
hand. I said: 'My name is Sunday; I'm down at the 
church preaching, A good many have been talking to me 
about you and I came down to see you and ask you to give 
your heart to God/ He looked at me, walked to the cup 
board, opened the door, took out a half-pint flask of whisky 
and threw it out on a pile of stones. 

"He then turned around, took me by the hand, and as 
the tears rolled down his cheeks he said: 'I have lived in 
this town nineteen years and you are the first man that has 
ever asked me to be a Christian/ 

" He said : ' They point their finger at me and call me an 
old drunkard. They don't want my wife around with their 
wives because her husband is a drunkard. Their children 
won't play with our babies. They go by my house to Sun 
day school and church, but they never ask us to go. They 
pass us by. I never go near the church. I am a member 
of the lodge. I am a Mason and I went to the church eleven 
years ago when a member of the lodge died, but I've neveu 
been back and I said I never would go/ 

"I said : ' You don't want to treat the Church that way. 
God isn't to blame, is he?' 


The Church isn't to blame, is it? J 


"'Christ Isn't to blame?' 


" ' You wouldn't think much of me if I would walk up and 
slap your wife because you kept a dog I didn't like, would 
you? Then don't slap God in the face because there are 
some hypocrites in the Church that you don't like and who 
are treating you badly. God is all right. He never treated 
you badly. Come up and hear me preach, will you, John?' 

"'Yes, 111 come tonight/ 

"I said : ' All right, the Lord bless you and I will pray for 
you/ He came; the seats were all filled and they crowded 
Mm down the side aisle. I can see Mm now standing there, 
with Ms hat in Ms hand, leaning against the wall looking at 
me. He never took Ms eyes off me. When I got through 
and gave the invitation he never waited for them to let him 
out. He walked over the backs of the seats, took Ms stand 
for Jesus Christ, and in less than a week seventy-eight men 
followed him into the kingdom of God. They elected that 
man chairman of the civic federation and he cleaned the 
town up for Jesus Christ and has led the hosts of righteous 
ness from then until now. Men do care to talk about Jesus 
Christ and about their souls. 'No man cares for my soul/ 
That's what's the trouble. They are anxious and waiting 
for some one to come." 

the His 

I Tknow there is a devil for two reasons; first, the Bible declares it; and 
second I have done business with him. BILLY SUNDAY. 

^T^HE Prince of Darkness was no more real to Martin 
Luther, when lie flung f his ink-well at the devil, than 
he is to Billy Sunday. He seems never long out of 
the evangelist's thought, Sunday regards him as his most 
personal and individual foe. Scarcely a day passes that he 
does not direct his attention publicly to the devil. "He 
addresses him and defies him, and he cites Satan as a suffi 
cient explanation for most of the world's afflictions, 

There are many delicate shadings and degrees and 
differentiations in theology but Billy Sunday does not 
know them. He never speaks in semitones, nor thinks in 
a nebulous way. His mind and his word are at one with his 
base-ball skill a swift, straight passage between two points. 
With him, men are either sheep or goats; there are no 
hybrids. Their destination^Js^Jbgaven or hell, and their 
master is Gk>d"3rlterdSvfl" -- ^^^^*-*^. 

He believes in the devil firmly, picturesquely; and 
fights him without fear. His characterizations of the devil 
are hair-raising. As a matter of fact it is far easier for the 
average man, close down to the ruck and red realities of 
life, to believe in the devil, whose work he well knows, 
than it is for the cloistered man of books. The mass of the 
people think in the same sort of strong, large, elemental 
terms as Billy Sunday. The niceties of language do not 
bother them; they are the makers and users of that fluid 
speech called slang. 

William A. Sunday is an elemental. Sophistication 
would spoil him. He is dead sure of a few truths of first 
magnitude. He believes without reservation or qualifica- 



tion in the Christ who saved Mm and reversed Ms life's 
direction. Upon this theme he has preached to millions. 
Also he is sure that there is a devil, and he rather delights 
in telling old Satan out loud what he thinks of him. Mean 
ness, in Satan, 1 sinner or saint, he "hates and says so in the 
language of the street, wMch the common people under 
stand. He usually perturbs some fastidious folk who tMnk 
that literary culture and religion are essentially interwoven. 

Excoriation of the devil is not Sunday's masterpiece. 
He reaches his height in exaltation of Jesus Christ. He is 
surer of Ms Lord than he is of the devil. It is Ms bed-rock 
belief that Jesus can save anybody, from the gutter bum to 
the soul-calloused, wealthy man of the world, and make 
them both new creatures. With heart tenderness and really 
yearning love he holds aloft the Crucified as the world's 
only hope. That is why Ms gospel breaks hearts of stone 
and makes Bible-studying, praying church workers out of 
strange assortments of humanity. 

The following passages will show how familiarly and 
frequently Sunday treats of the devil: 


The devil isn't anybody's fool You can bank on 
that. Plenty of folks will tell you there isn't jany devil 
that he is just a figure of speech; a pbetic^personification^of 
the sin in our natures. People who say that and especially 
all the time-serving, hypocritical ministers who say it are 
liars. They are calling the Holy Bible a lie. I'll believe 
the Bible before I'U believe a lot ^ of time-serving, society- 
fied,Jea-drinking, smirking'preachers. "Ko^sir! ^Yoitiajke 
God's word fcot^J^reis^a "devil, and a big one, too. 

~~15E^5\]& the devil 'Is ^SEooffi' M guyr'"He always was, 
and he is now. He is right on Ms job all the time, winter 
and summer. Just as he appeared to Christ in the wilder 
ness, he is right in this tabernacle now, trying to make 
you sinners indifferent to Christ's sacrifice for your salva 
tion. When the invitation is given, and you start to get 


up, and then settle back Into your seat, and say, "I guess 
I don't want to give way to a temporary impulse/' that's 
the real, genuine, blazing-eyed, cloven-hoofed, forked-tailed 
old devil, hanging to your coat tail. He knows all your 
weaknesses, and how to appeal to them/"""" "*"""' "~ 

He' knows about you and^hoW you have spent sixty 
dollars in the last two years for tobacco, to make your 
home and the streets filthy, and that you haven't bought 
your wife a new dress in two years, because you "can't 
afford it"; and he knows about you, and the time and 
money you spend on fool hats and card parties, doing what 
you call "getting into society/ 3 while your husband is 
being driven away from home by badly cooked meals, 
and your children are running on the streets, learning to 
be hoodlums. 

And he knows about you, too, sir, and what you get 
when you go back of the drug-store prescription counter 
to "buy medicine for your sick baby." And he knows 
about you and the lie you told about the girl across the 
street, because she is sweeter and truer than you are, and 
the boys go to see her and keep away from you, you miser 
able thrower of slime, dug out of your own heart of envy 
yes, indeed, the devil knows all about you. 

When the revival comes along and the Church of God 
gets busy, you will always find the devil gets busy, too. 
Whenever you find somebody that don't believe in the 
devil you can bank on it that he has a devil in him bigger 
than a woodchuck. When the Holy Spirit descended at 
Pentecost the devil didn't do a thing but go around and 
say that these fellows were drunk, and Peter got up and 
made him mad by saying that it was too early in the day. 
It was but the third hour. They had sense in those days; 
it was unreasonable to find them drunk at the third hour 
of the day. But now the fools sit up all night to booze. 

When you rush forward in God's work, the devil 
begins to rush against you. There was a rustic farmer 
walking through Lincoln Park and he saw the sign, "Be 
ware of pickpockets.'' 


"What do they want to put up a fool sign like that? 
Everybody looks honest to me." He reached for his watch 
to see what time it was and found it was gone. The pick 
pockets always get in the pockets of those who think there 
are no pickpockets around. Whenever you believe there 
is a devil around, you can keep him out, but if you say 
there isn't, he'll get you sure. 

The Bible says there is a devil; you say there is no 
devil. Who knows the most, God or you? Jesus met a 
real foe, a personal devil. Reject it or deny it as you may. 
If there is no devil, why do you cuss instead of pray? 
Why do you lie instead of telling the truth? Why don't 
you kiss your wife instead of cursing her? - -SYou have just 
got the devil in you, that is all. 

The devil is no fool; he is onto his job." The devil 
has been practicing for six thousand years and he has never 
had appendicitis, rheumatism or tonsilitis. If you get to 
playing tag with the devil he'll beat you every clip. 

If I knew that all the devils in hell and all the devils 
in Pittsburgh were sitting out in the pews and sneering 
and jeering at me I'd shoot God's truth into their carcasses 
anyway, and I propose to keep firing away at the devils 
until by and by they come crawling out of their holes and 
swear that they were never in them, but their old hides 
would assay for lead and tan for chair bottoms. 

Men in general think very little of the devil and his 
devices, yet he is the most formidable enemy the human 
race has to contend with. There is only one attitude to 
have toward Mm, and that is to hit him. Don't pick up 
a sentence and smooth it and polish it and sugar-coat it, 
but shy it at him with all the rough comers on. 

The devil has more sense than lots of little preachers. 

Jesus said: "It is written/' He didn't get up and 
quote Byron and Shakespeare. You get up and quote 
that stuff, and the devil will give you the ha! ha! until 
you're gray-haired. Give him the Word of God, and he 
will take the count mighty quick. "It is written, thou 
shall not tempt the Lord thy God." 



- Don't you ever think for a minute that the devil 
Isn't on the job all the time. He has been rehearsing for 
thousands of years, and when you fool around in his back 
yard he will pat you on the back and tell you that you 
are "IT." 

Fll fight the devil in my own way and I don't want 
people to growl that I am not doing it right. 

The devil comes to me sometimes. Don't think that 

because I am a 
preacher the devil 
doesn't bother me 
any. The devil 
comes around reg 
ularly, and I put 
on the gloves and 
. get busy right 

I owe God 
everything; I owe 
the devil nothing 
except the best 
fight I can put up 
against him. 

I assault the 
devil's stronghold 
and I expect no 
quarter and I give 
him none. 

I am in favor 

of everything the devil is against, and I am against every 
thing the devil is in favor of the dance, the booze, the 
brewery, my friends that have cards in their homes. I am 
against everything that the devil is in favor of, and I f avoi 
everything the devil is against, no matter what it is. If 
you know which side the devil is on, put me down on the 
other side any time. 

Hell is the highest reward that the devil can offeu 
you for being a servant of his. 

is m FAVOE or" 


The devil's got a lot more sense than some of you 
preachers I know, and a lot of you old skeptics, who quote 
Shakespeare and Carljde^ and Emerson and everybody and 
everything rather than the Bible. 

When you hear a preacher say that he doesn't believe 
there is a devil, you can just bet your hat that he never 
preaches repentance. The men who do any preaching on 
repentance know there is a devil, for they hear him roar. 

I drive the same kind of nails all orthodox preachers 
do. The only difference is that they use a tack hammer 
and I use a sledge. 

The preacher of today who is a humanitarian question 
point is preaching to empty benches. 

I do not want to believe and preach a lie. I would 
rather believe and preach a truth, no matter how unpleasant 
it is, than to believe and preach .a pleasant lie. I believe 
there is a hell. If I didn't I wouldn't have the audacity 
to stand up here and preach to you. If there ever comes 
a time when I don't believe in hell I will leave the plat 
form before I will ever preach a sermon with that unbelief 
in my heart. I would rather believe and preach a truth, 
no matter how unpleasant, than to believe and preach a 
lie simply for the friendship and favor of some people. 

The man that preaches the truth is your friend. I 
have no desire to be any more broad or liberal than Jesus, 
not a whit, and nobody has any right, either, and claim 
to be a preacher. Is a man cruel that tells you the truth? 
The man that tells you there is no hell is the cruel man, 
and the man that tells you there is a hell is your friend. 
So it's a kindness to point out the danger. God's ministers 
have no business to hold back the truth. 

I don't believe you can remember when you heard 
a sermon on hell. Well, you'll hear about hell while I am 
here. God Almighty put hell in the Bible and any preacher 
that sidesteps it because there are people sitting in the pews 
who don't like it, ought to get out of the pulpit. He is 
simply trimming his sails to catch a passing breeze of 


and Criticism 

Some preachers need the cushions of their chairs upholstered oftener 
than they need their shoes half-soled, BILLY SUNDAY. 

IT Is only when the bull's eye is hit that the bell rings. 
The preacher who never gets a roar out of the forces 
of unrighteousness may well question whether he is 
shooting straight. One of the most significant tributes to 
the Evangelist Sunday is the storm of criticism which rages 
about his head. It is clear that at least he and his message 
are not a negligible quantity. 

This book certainly holds no brief for the impeccability 
and Invulnerability of Billy Sunday, Yet we cannot be 
blind to the fact he has created more commotion in the 
camp of evil than any other preacher of his generation. 
Christians are bound to say "We love him for the enemies 
he has made." He hits harder at all the forces that hurt 
humanity and hinder godliness than any other living 
warrior of God. 

The forces of evil pay Billy Sunday the compliment of 
an elaborately organized and abundantly financed assault 
upon him. He is usually preceded and followed In his 
campaigns by systematic attacks which aim to undermine 
and discredit Mm. A weekly paper, issued in Chicago, 
appears to be devoted wholly to the disparaging of Billy 

In rather startling juxtaposition to that statement is 
the other that many ministers have publicly attacked 
Sunday. This is clearly within their right. He is a public 
issue and fairly in controversy. As he claims the right of 
free speech for himself he cannot deny it to others. Some 
of his critics among the clergy object to evangelism in 
general, some to his particular methods, some to Ms forms 



of speech, some to Ms theology; but nobody apparently 
objects to Ms results. 

During the past year there has arisen a tendency to 
abate this storm of clerical criticism, for it has been found 
that it is primarily serving the enemies of the Church. 
Whatever Billy Sunday's shortcomings, he is unquestion 
ably an ally of the Kingdom of Heaven and an enemy of 
sin. His motives and Ms acMevements are both aligned 
on the side of Christ and his Church. A host of ministers 
of fine judgment who are grieved by some of the evangelist's 
forms of speech and some of Ms methods, have yet with 
held their voices from criticism because they do not want 
to fire upon the Kingdom's warriors from the rear. Sun 
day gets results for God; therefore, reason they, why 
should we attack Mm? 

There is another side to this sMeld of criticism. 
There is no religious leader of our day who has such a host 
of ardent defenders and supporters as Billy Sunday. The 
enthusiasm of myriads for tMs man is second only to their 
devotion to Christ. Wherever he goes he leaves behind 
hi a militant body of protagonists. He is championed 
valiantly and fearlessly. 

So vigorous is tMs spirit wMch follows in the wake of a 
Sunday campaign that in a certain large city where the 
ministers of one denomination had publicly issued a state 
ment disapproving of Mr. Sunday, their denomination has 
since suffered seriously in public estimation. 

Some anonymous supporter of Billy Sunday has issued 
a pampMet made up exclusively of quotations from Scrip 
ture justifying Sunday and Ms message. He quotes such 
pertinent words as these: 

And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with 
excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the 
testimony of God. 

For I determined not to know any thing among you, save 
Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 

And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in 
much trembling. 


And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing 
words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit 
and of power; 

' That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, 
but in the power of God. 

For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the 
gospel: not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ 
should be made of none effect. 

For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish 
foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of 

For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, 
and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent. 

Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the 
ctisputer of this world? hath not God made foolish the wis 
dom of this world? 

For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom 
knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching 
to save them that believe. 

For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after 

But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stum- 
blingblock, and unto the Greeks foolishness; 

But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, 
Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. 

Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and 
the weakness of God is stronger than men. 

For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many 
wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, 
are called: 

But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world 
to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things 
of the world to confound the things which are mighty; 

And base things of the world, and things which are 
despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, 
to bring to nought things that are. 

A great marvel is that this unconventional preacher 
has enlisted among his supporters a host of intellectual and 
spiritual leaders of our time, The churches of the country, 


broadly speaking, are for him, and so are their pastors. 
This might be attributed to partisanship, for certainly 
Sunday is promoting the work of the Church; but what is 
to be said when Provost Edgar IF. Smith of the University 
of Pennsylvania comes out in an unqualified endorsement 
of the man and his work; or such an acute lawyer and dis 
tinguished churchman as George Wharton Pepper of Phila 
delphia, well known in the councils of the Protestant Epis 
copal Church, gives his hearty approval to Sunday? 

Consider the letter which Secretary of State Bryan 
wrote to Sunday after hearing him at the Pittsburgh Taber 


Washington, January 12, 1914. 

MY BEAU SUNDAY: Having about four hours in Pitts 
burgh last night, my wife and I attended your meeting and so 
we heard and felt the powerful sermon which you delivered. 
We noted the attention of that vast audience and watched 
the people, men and women, old and young, who thronged 
about you in response to your appeal. Mrs. Bryan had never 
heard you, and I had heard only a short afternoon address. 
Last night you were at your best. I cannot conceive of your 
surpassing that effort in effectiveness. 

Do not allow yourself to be disturbed by criticism. 
God is giving you souls for your hire and that is a sufficient 
answer. Christ called attention to the fact that both he 
and John the Baptist had to meet criticism because they were 
so much unlike in manner. No man can do good without 
making enemies, but yours as a rule will be among those who 
do not hear you. Go on, and may the Heavenly Father 
use you for many years to come, as he has for many years 
past, and bring multitudes to know Christ as he presented 
himself when he said, "I am the way, the truth and the life." 

Am sorry we could not see you personally, but we left 
because we found that we were discovered. Some insisted 
upon shaking hands and I was afraid I might become a 
cause of disturbance. Mrs. Bryan joins me in regards to 
Mrs. Sunday and yourself. 

Yours truly, 



One need be surprised at notMng in connection with 
such a personality as Billy Sunday, yet surely there is no 

precedent for this resolution, adopted by the Pittsburgh 
City Council, while he was in that city: 

WHEREAS, The Rev. William A. Sunday and his party 
have been in the city of Pittsburgh for the past eight weeks, 
conducting evangelistic services, and the Council of the 
city being convinced of the immense good which has been 
accomplished through his work for morality, good citizen 
ship and religion, therefore be it 

Resolved, That the Council of the city of Pittsburgh 
express its utmost confidence in Mr. Sunday and all of the 
members of Ms party; and be it further 

Resolved, That it does hereby express to them its 
appreciation of all the work that has been done, and extends 
to Mr. Sunday its most cordial wishes for his future success. 

While the adverse critics are doing all in their power to 
discredit him as he goes from place to place, Sunday's friends 
also are not idle. In Scranton, for instance, before the 
campaign opened, men in nearly all walks of life received 
letters from men in corresponding callings in Pittsburgh 
bearing tribute to Billy Sunday. Thus, bankers would 
inclose in their correspondence from Pittsburgh an earnest 
recommendation of Sunday and a suggestion that the 
bankers of Scranton stand squarely to his support. The 
local Scranton plumber heard from a plumbers' supply 
house; labor union men heard from their fellows in Pitts 
burgh; lawyers and doctors, and a host of businessmen, had 
letters from personal friends in Pittsburgh, telling what 
Sunday had done for that community, and in many cases 
bearing personal testimony to what his message had meant 
to the writers. 

This is nearer to effective organization than the Chris 
tian forces of the country commonly get. This form of 
propaganda did not bulk large in the public eye, but it 
created a splendid undercurrent of sentiment; for Banker 


Jones could say: "I Have it straight from Banker Smith of 
Pittsburgh, whom I know to be a level-headed man, that 
Sunday is all right, and that he does nothing but good for 
the city." 

Still more novel than this was the expedition sent by 
a great daily newspaper to hear the evangelist in Scranton. 
There is no .parallel in the history of Christian work for the 
deputation of more than two hundred pastors who went 
to Scranton from Philadelphia. These went entirely at the 
charges of the Philadelphia North American, being carried 
in special trains. The railroad company recognized the 
significance of this unusual occasion, and both ways the 
train broke records for speed. 

While in the city of Scranton the ministers were the 
guests of the Scranton churches. They had special space 
reserved for them in the Tabernacle and their presence drew 
the greatest crowds that were experienced during the Scran 
ton campaign. Of course thousands were turned away* 
Nobody who saw and heard it will ever forget the way that 
solid block of Philadelphia pastors stood up and sang in 
mighty chorus "I Love to Tell the Story." 

Between sessions these Philadelphia ministers were 
visiting their brethren in Scranton, learning in most detailed 
fashion what the effects of the Sunday campaign had been. 
Whenever they gathered in public assemblies they sounded 
the refrain, which grew in significance from day to day: 
"I Love to Tell the Story." BiUy Sunday fired the evan 
gelistic purpose of these pastors. 

When this unique excursion was ended, and the com 
pany had de-trained at the Reading Terminal, the ministers, 
without pre-arrangement, gathered in a body in the train 
shed and lifted their voices in the refrain "I Love to Tell the 
Story," while hundreds and thousands of hurrying city folk, 
attracted by the unwonted music, gathered to learn what 
this could possibly mean. 

A new militancy was put into the preaching of these 
clergymen by their Scranton visit; and many of them later 


reported that the largest congregations of all their ministerial 
experience were those which gathered to hear them report 
on the Sunday evangelistic campaign. Not a few of the 
preachers had to repeat their Billy Sunday sermons. Need 
less to say, an enthusiastic and urgent invitation to Sun 
day to come to Philadelphia to conduct a campaign, 
followed this demonstration on the part of the. daily news 

That there is a strategic value in rallying all the churches 
about one man was demonstrated by the Methodists of 
Philadelphia on this occasion. Bishop Joseph F. Berry had 
heartily indorsed the project, and had urged all of 
the Methodist pastors who could possibly do so to accept 
the North, American's invitation. The Methodist delega 
tion was an enthusiastic unit. When they returned to 
Philadelphia a special issue of the local Methodist paper was 
issued, and in this thirty-two articles appeared, each written 
by an aroused pastor who had been a member of the 
delegation. Incidentally, all of the city papers, as well as 
the religious press of a very wide region, reported this 
extraordinary pilgrimage of more than two hundred pastors 
to a distant city to hear an evangelist preach the gospel. A 
reflex of this was the return visit, some months later, of a 
thousand "trail-hitters" to speak in Philadelphia pulpits. 

Before leaving the subject of the criticism of Sunday, 
pro and con, it should be insisted that no public man or 
institution should be free from the corrective power of pub 
lic opinion, openly expressed. This is one of the whole 
some agencies of democracy. Mr. Sunday himself is not 
slow to express his candid opinion of the Church, the ministry, 
and of society at large. It would be a sad day for him. 
should all critical judgment upon his work give way to un 
reasoning adulation. 

The best rule to follow in observing the evangelist's 
ministry is, "Never judge unfinished work/ 7 Only a 
completed campaign should pass in review before the critics; 
only the whole substance of the man's message; only the 


entire effect of Ms work upon the public. Partial judgments 
are sure to be incorrect judgments. 

Billy Sunday succeeds in maMng clear to all Ms hearers 
indeed he impresses them so deeply that the whole city talks 
of little else for weeks that God has dealings with every 
man; and that God cares enough about man to provide for 
him a way of escape from the terrible reality of sin, that way 
being Jesus Christ. 

When a preacher succeeds in lodging that conviction 
in the minds of the multitudes, he is heaven's messenger. 
Whether he speak in Choctaw, Yiddish, Bostonese or in the 
slang of CMcago, is too trivial a matter to discuss. We do 
not inspect the wardrobe or the vocabulary of the hero who 
rides before the flood, urging the people to safety in the 


The hour is come; come for something else. It has 
come for plainness of speech on the part of the preacher. 
If you have anything to antagonize, out with it; specify sins 
and sinners. You can always count on a decent public to 
right a wrong, and any public that won't right a wrong is 
a good one to get out of. 

Charles Finney went to Europe to preach, and in Lon 
don a famous free-thinker's wife went to hear him. The free- 
tMnker's wife noticed a great change in Mm; he was more 
kind, more affectionate, more affable, less abusive and she 
said, "I know what is the matter with you; you have been 
to hear that man from America preach." And he said, 
"Wife, that is an insult; that man Finney don't preach; he 
just makes plain what the other fellows preach." Now the 
foremost preacher of Ms day was Paul. What he preached 
of Ms day was not so much idealism as practicality; not 
so much theology, homiletics, exegesis or didactics, but a 
manner of life. I tell you there was no small fuss about Ms 
way of teacMng. When Paul was on the job the devil 
was awake. There is a kind of preaching that will never 
arouse the devil 


"He th^t w j)e]ieveth M npt is condenrne 
that haiTnorbeleved in JesuFCBHst, the only begotten son 
of God, is condemned where he sits. 

Too much of the preaching of today is too nice; too 
pretty; too dainty; it does not kill. Too many sermons 
are just given for literary excellence of the production. 
They get a nice adjective or noun, or pronoun you cannot 
be saved by grammar. A little bit of grammar is all right, 
but don't be a big fool and sit around and criticize because 
the preacher gets a word wrong if you do that your head 
is filled with buck oysters and sawdust, if that is all that you 
can use it for. 

They've been crying peace. There is no peace. Spme 
people won't come to hear me because they are afraidjp 
hear the truth. They want deodorized, disinfected sermons? 
They are afraid to be stuck over the edge of the pit and get 
a smell of the brimstone. You can't get rid of sin as long 
as you treat it as a cream puff instead of a rattlesnake. You 
can't brush sin away with a feather duster. Go ask the 
drunkard who has been made sober whether he likes "Bill." 
Go ask the girl who was dragged from the quagmire of shame 
and restored to her mother's arms whether she likes "Bill." 
Go ask the happy housewife who gets the pay envelope every 
Saturday night instead of its going to the filthy saloon 
keeper whether she's for "Bill." Some people say, "Oh, 
he's sensational." Nothing would be more sensational than 
if some of you were suddenly to become decent. I would 
rather be a guide-post than a tombstone. 

I repeat that everybody who is decent or wants to be 
decent, will admire you when you preach the truth, although 
you riddle them when you do it. The hour is come, my 
friend. The hour is come to believe in a revival. Some 
people do notJbdBgssJ^ 
so youliiTil^^ * 

I can see those disciples praying, and talking and having 
a big time. There are many fool short-sighted ministers 
who are satisfied if they can only draw a large crowd, Som 


are as crazy after sensations as the yellowest newspaper 
that ever came off the press. That's the reason we have 
these sermons on "The Hobble Skirt" and "The Merry 
Widow Hat" and other such nonsensical tommyrot. If 
there were not so many March-hare sort of fellows breaking 
into pulpits you would have to sweat more and work harder. 
There are some of you that have the devil in you. Maybe 
you don't treat your wife square. Maybe you cheat in your 
weights. Get rid of the devil. What does it matter if you 
pack a church to the roof if nothing happens to turn the 
devil pale? What is the use of putting chairs in the aisles 
and out the doors? 

The object of the Church is to cast out devils. 

The devil has more sense than lots of little preachers. 
I have been unfortunate enough to know D.D.'s and LL.D.'s 
sitting around whittling down the doctrine of the personality 
of the devil to as fine a point as they know how. You are a 
fool to listen to them. The devil is no fool, he is no four- 
flusher. He said to Christ: "If you are a God, act like it; 
if you are a man, and believe the Scriptures, act as one who 

John the Baptist wasn't that kind of a preacher. Jesus 
Christ wasn't that kind of a preacher. The apostles weren't 
that kind of preachers except old Judas. John the Baptist 
opened the Bible right in the middle and preached the word 
of God just as he found it, and he didn't care whether the 
people liked it or not. That wasn't his business. I tell 
you, John the Baptist stirred up the devil. If any minister 
doesn't believe in a personal devil it's because he has never 
preached a sermon on repentance, or he'd have heard him 
roar. Yes, sir. If there's anything that will make the devil 
roar it is a sermon on repentance. 

You can preach sociology, or psychology, or any other 
kind of ology, but if you leave Jesus Christ out of it you hit 
the toboggan slide to hell. 

I'll preach against any minister who is preaching 
false doctrines. I don't give a rap who he is. I'll turn 


my guns loose against him, and don't you forget that. Any 
man who Is preaching false doctrines to the people and vomit 
ing out false doctrines to them will hear from me. I want 
to say that the responsibility for no revivals in our cities and 
towns has got to be laid at the doors of the ministry. Preach 
ers sit fighting their sham battles of different denominations, 
through their cussedness, inquiring into fol-da-rol and tom- 
myrot, and there sits in the pews of the church that misera 
ble old scoundrel who rents his property out for a saloon and 
is going to hell; and that other old scoundrel who rents his 
houses for houses of ill fame and is living directly on the 
proceeds of prostitution, and he doesn't preach against it. 
He is afraid he will turn the men against him. He is afraid 
of his job. They are a lot of backsliders and the whole 
bunch will go to hell together. They are afraid to come out 
against It. 

I'll tell you what's the matter. Listen to me. The 
Church of God has lost the spirit of concern today largely 
because of the ministry that's what's the matter with 
them. I'll allow no man or woman to go beyond me in 
paying tribute to culture. I don't mean this miserable "dog" 
business, shaking hands with two fingers. The less brains 
some people have the harder they try to show you that they 
have some, or think they have. I allow no man to go beyond 
me in paying tribute to real, genuine culture, a tribute to 
intellectual greatness; but when a man stands in the pulpit 
to preach he has got to be a man of God. He has got to 
speak with the passion for souls. If you sleep in the time 
of a revival God Almighty will wake you up. 

There are lots of preachers who don't know Jesus. 
They know about him, but they don't know him. Experi 
ence will do more than forty million theories. I can experi 
ment with religion just the same as I can with water. No 
two knew Him exactly alike, but all loved Him, All would 
have something to say. 

Now for you preachers. When a man prays "Thy 
Kingdom Come" he will read the Bible to find out the way 


to make It come. The preacher who prays "Thy Kingdom 
Come" will not get all his reading from the new books or 
from the magazines. He will not try to please the high 
brows and in pleasing them miss the masses. He will not 
try to tickle the palates of the giraffes and then let the sheep 
starve. He will put his cookies on the lower shelf. He will 
preach in a language that the commonest laborer can 

One of the prolific sources of unbelief and backsliding 
today is a bottle-fed church, where the whole membership 
lets the preacher do the studying of the Bible for them. 
He will go to the pulpit with his mind full of his sermon and 
they will come to the church with their minds filled with 
society and last night's card-playing, beer-and-wine-drinking 
and novel-reading party and will sit there half asleep. Many 
a preacher reminds me of a great big nursing bottle, and there 
are two hundred or three hundred rubber tubes, with nipples 
on the end, running into the mouths of two hundred or three 
hundred or four hundred great big old babies with whiskers 
and breeches on, and hair pins stuck in their heads and rats 
in their hair, sitting there, and they suck and draw from the 
preacher. Some old sister gets the "Amusement" nipple in 
her mouth and it sours her stomach, and up go her heels 
and she yells. Then the preacher has to go around and sing 
psalms to that big two-hundred-and-fifty-pound baby and 
get her good-natured so that she will go back to church some 

By and by some old whisky-voting church member 
gets the "Temperance" nipple in his mouth and it sours his 
stomach and up go his heels and he lets out a yell, throws 
his hands across his abdominal region, and the preacher says, 
"Whatever is the matter? If I hit you any place but the 
heart or the head I apologize." The preacher has to be wet 
nurse to about two hundred and fifty big babies that haven't 
grown an inch since they came into the church. 

One reason why some preachers are not able to bring 
many sinners to repentance is because they preach of a 



God so impotent that lie can only throw down card houses 
when all the signs are right! They decline to magnify his 
power for fear they will overdo it I And if they accidentally 
make a strong assertion as to his power, they immediately 
neutralize it by "as it were," or "in a measure, perhaps!" 
You make a man feel as though God was stuck on hhn 

and you'll be a 
thirty-third degree 
sort of a preacher 
with that fellow. 

If some 
preachers were as 
true to their trust 
as John the. Bap 
tist, they might be 
turned out to 
grass, but they'd 
lay up treasures 
for themselves in 

Clergymen will 
find their authority 
for out-of-the-or- 
dinary methods in 
the lowering of a 

SOCIETY DAMES " roof, as told 01 in 

the Bible. If that 
isn't sensationalism, then trot some out. 

If God could convert the preachers the world would be 
saved. Most of them are a lot of evolutionary hot-air 

We've got churches, lots of them. We've got preachers, 
seminaries, and they are turning out preachers and putting 
them into little theological molds and keeping them there 
until they get cold enough to practice preaching. 

The reason some ministers are not more interested in 


their work Is because they fall to realize that theirs is a 
God-given mission. 

WeVe got a bunch of preachers breaking their necks 
to please a lot of old society dames. 

Some ministers say, "If you don't repent, you'll die 
and go to a place, the name of which I can't pronounce." 
I can. You'll go to hell. 

There is not a preacher on earth that can preach a 
better gospel than "Bill." I'm willing to die for the Church. 
I'm giving my life for the Church. 

Your preachers would fight for Christ if some of you 
fossilated, antiquated old hypocrites didn't snort and snarl 
and whine. 

A godless cowboy once went to a brown-stone church 
with a high-toned preacher I am a half-way house between 
the brown-stone church and the Salvation Army. They 
are both needed and so is the half-way house. Well, this 
fellow went to one of these brown-stone churches and after 
the preacher had finished the cowboy thought he had to go 
up and compliment the preacher, as he saw others doing, 
and so he sauntered down the aisle with his sombrero under 
his arm, his breeches stuck in his boots, a bandana handker 
chief around his neck, his gun and bowie knife in his belt, 
and he walked over and said: "Hanged if I didn't fight shy 
of you fellows but I'll tell you I sat here and listened to 
you for an hour and you monkeyed less with religion than 
any fellow I ever heard in my life." They have taken away 
the Lord and don't know where to find him. 

You must remember that Jesus tellsj^J^pMB^for^God. 
The trouble with some peDpte M *SS3* K "prea5iers is tat they 
try to shine rather than letting their light shine. Some 
preachers put such a big capital "I" in front of the cross 
that the sinner can't see Jesus. They want the glory. 
They would rather be a comet than stars of Bethlehem. 

A Clean on Social Sins 

There are a good many things worse than living and dying an old maid, 
and one of them is marrying the wrong man. BILLY SUNDAY. 

SUNDAY'S trumpet gives no uncertain sound on plain, 
every-day righteousness. He is like an Old Testa 
ment prophet in Ms passion for clean conduct. No 
phase of his work is more notable than the zeal for right 
living which he leaves behind him. His converts become 
partisans of purity. 

Sunday's own mind is clean. He does not, as is some 
times the case, make his pleas for purity a real ministry of 
evil. In the guise of promoting purity he does not pander 
to pruriency. As outspoken as the Bible upon social sin, 
he yet leaves an impression so chaste that no father would 
hesitate to take his boy to the big men's meeting which 
Sunday holds in every campaign; and every woman who 
has once heard him talk to women would be glad to have 
her daughter hear him also. 

The verdict of all Christians who have studied condi 
tions in a community after one of the Sunday campaigns is 
that Sunday has been like a thunder storm that has cleared 
the moral atmosphere. Life is sweeter and safer and more 
beautiful for boys and girls after this man has dealt plainly 
with social sins and temptations. Of course, it is more 
important to clean up a neighborhood's mind than its 

Even in cold print one may feel somewhat of the 
power of the man's message on "The Moral Leper." 


" Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy 
heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in 



the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: 
but know thou that for all these things God will bring 
thee into judgment." 

"Be not deceived; God is not mocked; for whatsoever 
a man soweth that shall he also reap. 3 ' 

In other words, do just as you please; lie if you want 
to, steal if you want to. God won't stop you, but he will 
hold you responsible in the end. Do just as you please 
until the end comes and the undertaker comes along and 
pumps the embalming fluid into you and then you are 
all in. 

No one is living in ignorance of what will become of 
him if he does not go right and trot square. He knpws 
there is a heaven for the saved and a hell for the damned, 
and that's all there is to it. 

Many men start out on a life of pleasure. Please 
remember two things. First, pleasure soon has an end, 
and, second, there is a day of judgment coming and you'll 
get what's coming to you. God gives every man a 
square deaL 

If a man stood up and told me he was going to preach 
on the things I am this afternoon, I'd want him to answer 
me several questions, and if he could do that I'd tell Mm 
to go ahead. 

First Are you kindly disposed toward me? 

Second Are you doing this to help me? 

Third Do you know what you're talking about? 

Fourth Do you practice what you preach? 

That's fair. Well, for the first. God knows I am 
kindly disposed toward you. Second, God knows I would 
do anything jn my power to help you be a better man. 
I want to make it easier for you to be square, and harder 
for you to go to hell. Third, I know what I'm talking 
about, for I have the Bible to back me up in parts and the 
statements of eminent physicians in other parts. And 
fourth, "Do I practice what I preach?" I will defy and 
challenge any man or woman on earth, and I'll look any 


man In the eye and challenge him, in the twenty-seven 
years I have been a professing Christian, to show anything 
against me. If I don't live what I preach, gentlemen, I'll 
leave the pulpit and never walk back here again. I live as 
I preach and I defy the dirty dogs who have insulted me 
and my wife and spread black-hearted lies and vilifications. 

I was born and bred on a farm and at the age of eleven 
I held my place with men in the harvest field. When I 
was only nine years old I milked ten cows every morning. 
I know what hard knocks are. I have seen the seamy side 
of life. I have crawled out of the sewers and squalor and 
want. I have struggled ever since I was six years old, an 
orphan son of a dead soldier, up to this pulpit this afternoon. 
I know what it is to go to bed with an honest dollar in my 
overalls pocket, when the Goddess of Liberty became a 
Jenny Lind and the eagle on the other side became a nightin 
gale and they'd sing a poor, homeless orphan boy to sleep. 
Fm not here to explode hot air and theories to you. 

Some men here in town, if their wives asked them if 
they were coming down here, would say: "Oh no, I don't 
want to go anywhere I can't take you, dear. " The dirty 
old dogs, they've been many a place they wouldn't take 
their wife and they wouldn't even let her know they were 

If sin weren't sojiece^^ 

The eSe^s^Fstronger and stronger while you get weaker 
and weaker all the time, and there is less chance of breaking 

Many think a Christian has to be a sort of dish-rag 
proposition, a wishy-washy, sissified sort of a galoot that 
lets everybody make a doormat out of him. Let me tell 
you the manliest man is the man who will acknowledge 
Jesus Christ. 

Christian Character 

Christianity is the capital on which you build your 
character. Don't you let the devil fool you. You never 


become a man until you become a Christian. Christianity 
is the capital on which you do business. It's your character 
that gets you anything. Your reputation is what people 
say about you, but your character is what God and youi 
wife and the angels know about you. Many have reputa 
tions of being good, but their characters would make a 
black mark on a piece of coal or tarred paper. 

I was over in Terre Haute, Indiana, not long ago, and 
I was in a bank there admiring the beauty of it ^when the 
vice-president, Mr. McCormick, a friend of mine, said: 
"Bill, you haven't seen the vault yet/ 7 and he opened up the 
vaults there, carefully contrived against burglars, and let 
me in. There were three, and I wandered from one to 
another. No one watched me. I could have filled my 
pockets with gold or silver, but no one watched me. Why 
did they trust me? Because they knew I was preaching 
the gospel of Jesus Christ, and living up to it. That's why 
they trusted me. There was a time in my life when a man 
wouldn't trust me with a yellow dog on a corner fifteen 

Before I was converted I could go five rounds so fast 
you couldn't see me for the dust, and I'm still pretty handy 
with my dukes and I can still deliver the goods with all 
express charges prepaid. Before I was converted I could 
run one hundred yards in ten seconds and circle the bases 
in fourteen seconds, and I could run just as fast after I was 
converted. So you don't have to be a dish-rag proposi 
tion at all. 

When a person's acts affect only himself they can be 
left to the conscience of the individual, but when they affect 
others the law steps in. When a child has diphtheria,^ you 
are not allowed personal liberty; you are quarantined, 
because your personal Hbertyjcc^ 
exercised. So you MverfT any right to live in sin. YoulaTjr 
you'll do it atiyhow. All right, you'll go to hell, too. Adam 
and Eve said they would eat the apple anyhow, and the 
world became a graveyard, and here's the result today. 


I look out into the world and see a man living in sin. 
I argue with him, I plead with him. I cry out warning words. 
I brand that man with a black brand, whose iniquities are 
responsible for the fall of others. 

No man lives to himself alone. I hurt or help others 
by my Me. When you go to hell you're going to drag some 
one else down with you and if you go to heaven you're going 
to take some one else with you. You say you hate sin. Of 
course you do if you have self-respect. But you never saw 
anyone who hates sin worse than I do, or loves a sinner 
more than I. _Fm fighting for the sinners. I'm fighting to save 
your soul, just as a doctor figHts' to save your life from" a 
disease. I'm your friend, and you'll find that I'll not com 
promise one bit with sin. I'll do anything to help you, 
No man will argue that sin is a good thing. Not a 'one who 
does not believe that the community would be better off if 
there was no sin. I preach against vice to show you that it 
will make your girl an outcast and your boy a drunkard. 
I'm fighting everything that will lead to this and if I have to 
be your enemy to fight it, God pity you, for I'm going to 
fight. People do not fight sin until it becomes a vice. 

You say you're not afraid of sin. You ought to be, for 
your children. It doesn't take boys long to get on the 
wrong track, and while you are scratching gravel to make one 
lap, your boy makes ten. We've got kids who have not yet 
sprouted long breeches who know more about sin and vice 
than Methuselah. There are little frizzled-top sissies not 
yet sprouting long dresses who know more about vice than 
did their great-grandmothers when they were seventy-five 
years old. The girl who drinks will abandon her virtue. 
What did Methuselah know about smoking cigarettes? I 
know there are some sissy fellows out there who object to 
my talking plain and know you shirk from talking plain. 

If any one ever tells you that you can't be virtuous and 
enjoy good health, I brand him as a low, infamous, black 
hearted liar. 

Ask any afflicted man you see on the street. If you 


could only reveal the heart of every one of them! In most 
you would find despair and disease. 

How little he thinks when he is nursing that lust that 
he is nursing a demon which, like a vampire, will suck his 
blood and wreck his life and blacken and blight his existence. 
And if any little children are born to him, they will be weak 
anemics without the proper blood in their veins to support 
them. Our young men ought to be taught that no sum they 
can leave to a charitable institution can blot out the deeds 
of an ignominious life. You don't have to look far for the 
reason why so many young men fail; why they go through 
life weak, ambitionless, useless. 

Common Sense 

Let's be common folks together today. Let's be men, 
and talk sense. 

As a rule a man wants something better for his children 
than he has had for himself. My father died before I was 
born and I lived with my grandfather. He smoked, but he 
didn't want me to. He chewed, but he didn't want me to. 
He drank, but he didn't want me to. He cussed, but he 
didn't want me to. He made wine that would make a man 
fight Ms own mother after he had drunk it. I remember how 
I used to find the bottles and suck the wine through a straw 
or an onion top. 

One day a neighbor was in and my grandfather asked 
him for a chew. He went to hand it back, and I wanted 
some. He said I couldn't have it. I said I wanted it any 
how, and he picked me up and turned me across his knee 
and gave me a crack that made me see stars as big as 

If there is a father that hits the booze, he doesn't want 
his son to. If he is keeping some one on the side, he doesn't 
want his son to. In other words, you would not want your 
son to live like you if you are not living right. 

An old general was at the bedside of Ms dying daughter. 
He didn't believe in the Bible and Ms daughter said, "What 


shall I do? You don't believe in the Bible. Mamma does. 
If I obey one Fm going against the other." The old general 
put his arms around his daughter and said: " Follow your 
mother's way; it is the safest." Man wants his children to 
have that which is sure. 

I have sometimes imagined that young fellow in Luke 
xv. He came to his father and said, "Dig up, I'm tired 
of this and want to see the world." His father didn't 
know what he meant. " Come across with the mazuma, come 
clean, divvy. I want the coin, see?" Finally the father 
tumbled, and he said, "I got you," and he divided up his 
share and gave it to the young man. Then he goes down to 
Babylon and starts out on a sporting life. He meets the 
young blood and the gay dame. I can imagine that young 
fellow the first time he swore. If Ms mother had been near 
he would have looked at her and blushed rose red. But he 
thought he had to cuss to be a man. 

No man can be a good husband, no man can be a good 
father, no man can be a respectable citizen, no man can 
be a gentleman, and swear. You can hang out a sign of 
gentleman, but when you cuss you might as well take 
it in. 

There are three things which will ruin any town and 
give it a bad name open licensed saloons; a dirty, cussing, 
swearing gang of blacklegs on the street; and vile story 
tellers. Let a town be known for these three things, and 
these alone, and you could never start a boom half big 
enough to get one man there, 

Old men, young men, boys, swear. What do you cuss 
for? It doesn't do you any good, gains you nothing in busi 
ness or society; it loses you the esteem of men. God said 
more about cussing than anything. God said, "Thou shalt 
not kill," "Thou shalt not steal," "Thou shalt not bear 
false witness," but God said more about cussing than them 
all; and men are still cussing. "Thou shalt not take the 
name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will not 
hold him guiltless who taketh his name in vain." 


No Excuse for Swearing 

I can see how you can get out of anything but cussing. 
I can see how a man could be placed in such a position that 
he would kill and be exonerated by the law of God and man, 
if he killed to protect Ms life, or the life of another. 

I can see how a man could be forced to steal if he stole 
to keep his wife from starving. 

Up in Chicago several years ago there was a long- 
continued strike and the last division of the union treasury 
had given each man twenty-five cents. A man went-into the 
railroad yards and got a bag of coal from one of the cars, 
They pinched him and he came up before a judge. He told 
the judge that he had only the twenty-five cents of the last 
division and he spent that for food. His wife and two chil 
dren were at home starving and he had no fire. He stole the 
coal to cook their food. The judge thundered, "Get out 
of this room and get home and build that fire as quickly as 
you can." 

Say, boys, if I was on a jury and you could prove to 
me that a father had stolen a loaf of bread to keep his wife 
from starving you could keep me in the room until the ants 
took me out through the keyhole before Pd stick him. That 
may not be law, I don't know; but you'll find there is a big 
streak of human nature in Bill. 

There isn't a fellow in this crowd but what would be 
disgusted if his wife or sister would cuss and hit the booze 
like he does. If she would put fifteen or twenty beers under 
her belt, he'd go whining around a divorce court for a divorce 
right away and say he couldn't live with her. Why, you 
dirty dog, she has to live with you. 

I heard of a fellow whose wife thought she would show 
Mm how he sounded around the house and give him a dose 
of his own medicine. So one morning he came down and 
asked for Ms breakfast. "Why you old blankety, blank, 
blank, bald-headed, blankety, blankety, blank, you can get 
your own breakfast." He was horrified, but every time he 
tried to say anything she would bring out a bunch of lurid 



oaths until finally tie said, " Wife, if youll cut out that cuss 
ing III never swear again." 

I have sometimes tried to imagine myself in Damascus 
on review day, and have seen a man riding on a horse richly 
caparisoned with trappings of gold and silver, and he himself 
clothed in garments of the finest fabrics, and the most 
costly, though with a face so sad and melancholy that it 
would cause the beholder to turn and look a second and third 
time. But he was a leper. And a man. unaccustomed 
to such scenes might be heard to make a remark like this: 
"How unequally God seems to divide his favors! There is 
a man who rides and others walk; he is clothed in costly 
garments; they are almost naked while he is well fed," 
and they contrast the difference between the man on the 
horse and the others. If we only knew the breaking hearts 
of the people we envy we would pity them from the bottom 
of our souls. 

I was being driven through a suburb of Chicago by a 
real estate man who wanted to sell me a lot. He was telling 
me who lived here and who lived there, and what an honor 
it would be for me and my children to possess a home there. 
We were driving past a house that must have cost $100,000 
and he said: "That house is owned by Mr. So-and-So. He 
is one of our multi-millionaires, and he and his wife have 
been known to live in that house for months and never speak 
to each other. They each have separate apartments, each 
has a separate retinue of servants, each a dining-room and 
sleeping apartments, and months come and go by and 
they never speak to each other." My thoughts hurried 
back to the little flat we called our home, where we 
had lived for seventeen years. I have paid rent enough 
to pay for it. There wasn't much in it; I could load 
it in two furniture vans, maybe three, counting the 
piano, but I would not trade the happiness and the joy 
and the love of that little flat if I had to take that 
palatial home and the sorrow and the things that went 
with it. 


Family Skeletons 

Suppose you were driving along the street and a man who 
was intimately acquainted with the skeletons that are in 
every family, should teU you the secrets of them all, of that 
boy who has broken his father's heart by being a drunkard, 
a black-leg gambler, and that girl who has gone astray, and 
that wife who is a common drunkard, made so by society ^ 
and the father himself who is also a sinner. 

Leprosy is exceedingly loathsome, and as I study its 
pathology I am not surprised that God used it as a type of 
sin. A man who is able to understand this disease, its 
beginning and its progress, might be approached by a man 
who was thus afflicted and might say to him, "Hurry! 
hurry! Show yourself to the priest for the cleansing of the 
Mosaic law." 

"Why?" says the man addressed. "What is the 
trouble?" The other man would say, "Do hurry and show 
yourself to the priest." But the man says, "That is only 
a fester, only a water blister, only a pimple, nothing more. 
I say there is no occasion to be alarmed. You are unduly 
agitated and excited for my welfare." 

Those sores are only few now, but it spreads, and it is 
first upon the hand, then upon the arm, and from the arm 
it goes on until it lays hold of every nerve, artery, vein 
with its slimy coil, and continues until the disintegration 
of the parts takes place and they drop off, and then it is too 
late. But the man who was concerned saw the beginning 
of that, not only the end, but the beginning. He looked 
yonder and saw the end too. If you saw a blaze you would 
cry, "Fire!" Why? Because you know that if let alone 
it will consume the building. 

That is the reason why you hurry when you get evidence 
of the disease. So I say to you, young man, dont you go 
with that godless, good-for-nothing gang that blaspheme 
and sneer at religion, that bunch of character assassins; they 
will make of your body a doormat to wipe their feet upon. 
Don't go with that bunch. I heard you swear,! heard you 


sneer at religion. Stop, or you will become a staggering, 
muttering, bleary-eyed, foul-mouthed down-and-outer, on 
your way to hell. I say to you stop, or you will go reeling 
down to hell, breaking your wife's heart and wrecking your 
children's lives. And what have you got to show for it? 
What have you got to show for it? God pity you for all 
you got to show for selling your soul to the devil. You are a 
fool You are a fool. Take it from "Bill," you are a fool 

Don't you go, my boy; don't you laugh at that smutty 
story with a double meaning. Don't go with that gang. 
But you say to me, "Mr. Sunday, you are unduly excited 
for my welfare. I know you smell liquor on my breath, 
but I never expect to become a drunkard. I never expect 
to become an outcast." Well, you are a fool. You are a 
fool No man ever intended to become a drunkard. Every 
drunkard started out to be simply a moderate drinker. 
The fellow that tells me that he can leave it alone when he 
wants to lies. It is a lie. If you can, why don't you leave 
it alone? You will never let it alone. If you could, you 
would. My boy, hear me, I have walked along the shores 
of time and have seen them strewn with the wrecks of those 
who have drifted in from the seas of lust and passion and are 
fit only f o^ danger signals to warn the coming race. You 
can't leave it alone or if you can, the time will come when it 
will get you. Take it from me. 

My mother told me never to buy calico by lamplight, 
because you can't tell whether the colors will stand or run 
in the wash. Never ask a girl to be your wife when she's 
got her best bib and tucker on. Call on her and leave at" 
ten o'clock and leave your glove on the piano, and go back 
the next morning about nine o'clock after your glove and 
ring the doorbell, and if she comes to the door with her hair 
done up in curl papers and a slipper on one foot and a shoe 
on the other foot, and that untied, and a Mother Hubbard 
on, take to the woods as fast as you can go. Never mind 
the glove, let the old man have that if he can wear it. But 
if she comes to the door nice and neat in a neat working 


house dress, with, her sleeves rolled up and her hair neatly 
done up, and a ribbon or a flower stuck in it, grab her quick. 

Henry Clay Trumbull told me years ago that he was in 
Europe and in London he went to a theater to see a man who 
was going to give an exhibition of wild animals and serpents. 
He had a royal Bengal tiger and a Numidian lion, and he 
introduced a beast that seems to be least able of being tamed 
either by kindness or brutality, a black panther. He made 
him go through the various motions, and after a while a 
wire screen was put down in front of the stage between the 
audience and the performer, and to the weird strains of an 
oriental band the man approached from the left of the stage 
and a serpent from the right. The eyes of the serpent and 
the man met and the serpent quailed before the man. Man 
was master there. At his command the serpent went through 
various contortions, and the man stepped to the front of 
the stage and the serpent wound himself round and round 
and round the man, until the man and serpent seemed as 
one. His tongue shot out, his eyes dilated. The man gave 
a call, but the audience thought that part of the performance, 
and that horrified audience sat there and heard bone after 
bone in that man's body crack and break as the reptile 
tightened its grasp upon his body, and saw his body crushed 
before he could be saved. 

He had bought that snake when it was only four feet 
long and he had watered and nursed it until it was thirty- 
five feet. At first he could have killed it; at last it killed 

Nursing Bad Habits 

Are you nursing a habit today? Is It drink? Are you 
nursing and feeding that which will wreck your life and wreck 
you upon the shores of passion, notwithstanding all the 
wrecks you have seen of those who have gone down the line? 

I never got such a good idea of leprosy as I did by 
reading that wonderful book of the nineteenth century by 
General Lew "Wallace, "Ben Hur." You remember the 


banishment of Ben Hur and the disintegration of that family 
life and estate, and the return of Ben Hur from his exile. 
He goes past Ms old home. The blinds are closed and drawn 
and all is deserted. He lies down upon the door-step and 
falls asleep. His mother and sister have been in the leper 
colony and are dying of leprosy and only waiting the time 
when they will be covered with the remains of others who 
have come there. So they have come to the city to get 
bread and secure water, and they see their son and brother 
lying on the door-step of their old home. They dare not 
awaken him for fear anguish at learning of their fate would be 
more than he could bear. They dare not touch him because 
it is against the law, so they creep close to him and put their 
leprous lips against his sandal-covered feet. They then 
go back again with the bread and water for which they had 

Presently Ben Hur awakens and rubs his eyes and sees 
great excitement. (This part of the story is mine.) Along 
comes a blear-eyed, old, whisky-soaked degenerate and Ben 
Hur asks him what is the trouble, what is the excitement 
about, and he says: "A couple of lepers have been cleansed, 
but there is nothing to that, just some occult power, it's all 
a fake." Ben Hur goes farther on and hears about this won 
der, and they say it is nothing; nothing, some long-haired 
evangelist who says his name is Jesus Christ; it's all a fake. 
Then Ben Hur goes farther and discovers that it is Jesus of 
Nazareth and that he has cleansed Ben HUT'S own mother 
and sister. He hears the story and acknowledges the 

The Leprosy of Sin 

The lepers had to cry, " Unclean! Unclean!" in those 
days to warn the people. They were compelled by law to do 
that: also they were compelled by law to go on the side of 
the street toward which the wind was blowing lest the breeze 
bring the germs of their body to the clean and infect them 
with the disease. And the victim of this disease was com- 


pelled to live in a lonely part of the city, waiting until Ms 
teeth, began to drop out, his eyes to drop from their sockets, 
and his fingers to drop from his hands, then he was compelled 
to go out in the tombs, the dying among the dead, there to 
live until at last he was gathered to the remains of the dead. 
That was the law that governed the leper in those days. All 
others shrank from him; he went forth alone. Alone! No 
man of all he loved or knew, was with him; he went forth on 
his way, alone, sick at heart, to die alone. 

Leprosy is infectious. And so is sin. Sin begins in 
so-called innocent flirtation. The old, god-forsaken scoun 
drel of a libertine, who looks upon every woman as legitimate 
prey for his lust, will contaminate a community; one drunk 
ard, staggering and maundering and muttering his way down 
to perdition, will debauch a town. 

Some men ought to be hurled out of society; they ought 
to be kicked out of lodges; they ought to be kicked out of 
churches, and out of politics, and every other place where 
decent men live or associate. And I want to lift the 
burden tonight from the heads of the unoffending woman 
hood and hurl it on the heads of offending manhood. 

Rid the world of those despicable beasts who live off 
the earnings of the unfortunate girl who is merchandising 
herself for gain. In some sections they make a business of 
it. I say commercialized vice is hell. I do not believe any 
more in a segregated district for immoral women than I 
would in having a section for thieves to live in where you 
could hire one any day or night in the week to steal for you. 
There are two things which have got to be driven out or 
they'll drive us out, and they are open licensed saloons and 
protected vic^u 

Society needs a new division of anathemas. You hurl 
the burden on the head of the girl; and the double-dyed 
scoundrel that caused her ruin is received in society with 
open arms, while the girl is left to hang her headland spend 
her life in shame. Some men are so rotten and vile that they 
ought to be disinfected and take a bath in carbolic acid and 


formaldehyde. Shut the lodge door in the face of every man 
that you know to be a moral leper; don't let him hide 
behind his uniform and his badge when you know him to be 
so rotten that the devil would duck up an alley rather than 
meet him face to face. Kick him out of church. Eick him 
out of society. 

You don't live your life alone. Your life affects others* 
Some girls will walk the streets and pick up every Tom> 
Dick and Harry that will come across with the price of an 
Ice-cream soda or a joy ride. 

So with the boy. He will sit at your table and drink 
beer, and I want to tell you if you are low-down enough to 
serve beer and wine in your home, when you serve it you are 
as low down as the saloon-keeper, and I don't care whether 
you do it for society or for anything else. If you serve 
Mquor or drink you are as low down as the saloon-keeper in 
my opinion. So the boy who had not grit enough to turn 
down his glass at the banquet and refuse to drink is now a 
blear-eyed, staggering drunkard, reeling to hell. He couldn't 
stand the sneers of the crowd. Many a fellow started out 
to play cards for beans, and tonight he would stake his soul 
for a show-down. The hole in the gambling table is not very 
big; it is about big enough to shove a dollar through; but 
it is big enough to shove your wife through; big enough to 
shove your happiness through; your home through; you]? 
salary, your character; just big enough to shove every 
thing that is dear to you in this world through. 

Listen to me. Bad as it is to be afflicted with physical 
leprosy, moral leprosy is ten thousand times worse. I don't 
care if you are the richest man in the town, the biggest tax 
payer in the county, the biggest politician in the district, 
or in the state. I don't care a rap if you carry the political 
vote of Pennsylvania in your vest pocket, and if you can 
change the vote from Democratic to Eepublican in the 
convention if after your worldly career is closed my text 
would make you a fitting epitaph for your tombstone and 
obituary notice in the papers, then what difference would it 


make what you had done "he was a leper." He was 
a great politician but "He was a leper." What difference 
would it make? 

I'll tell you, I was never more interested in my life than 
in reading the story of an old Confederate colonel who was a 
stickler for martial discipline. One day he had a trifling case 
of insubordination. He ordered his men to halt, and he had 
the offender shot. They dug the grave - and he gave the 
command to march, and they had stopped just three minutes 
by the clock. At the close of the war they made him chief 
of police of a Southern city, and he was so vile and corrupt 
that the people arose and ordered his dismissal. Then a 
great earthquake swept over the city, and the people rushed 
from their homes and thousands of people crowded the 
streets and there was great excitement. Some asked, 
"Where is the colonel?" and they said, "You will find him 
in one of two or three places." So they searched and found 
him in a den of infamy. He was so drunk that he didn't 
realize the danger he wa^ in. They led him out, then put 
him. upon a snow white-horse, put his spurs on his boots 
and his regimentals on; they pinned a star on his breast 
and put a cockade on his hat, and said to him: "Colonel, we 
command you as mayor of the city to quell this riot. You 
have supreme authority." 

He rode out among the people to quell the riot, dug his 
spurs into the white side of the horse and the crimson flowed 
out, and he rode in and out among the surging mass of 

He rode out among the people with commands here, tor 
rents of obscenity there, and in twenty-five minutes the still 
ness of death reigned in city squares, so marvelously did they 
fear him, so wonderful was his power over men. He then 
rode out, dismounted, took off his cockade, tore the star 
from his breast and threw it down, threw off his regimentals, 
took off his sword; then he staggered back to the house of 
infamy, where three months later he died, away from 
his wife, away from virtue, away from morality, his name 


synonymous with all that is vile. What difference did it 
make that he had power over men when you might sum up 
his life in the words, "But he was a leper." What difference 
did it make? 

I pity the boy or girl from the depths of my soul, who if 
you ask are you willing to be a Christian, will answer: 
" Mr. Sunday, I would like to be, but if I tell that at home my 
brothers will abuse me, my mother will sneer at me, my father 
will curse me. If I were, I would have no encouragement 
to stand and fight the battle." I pity from the depths of 
my soul that boy or girl, the boy who has a father like that; 
the girl that has a mother like that, who have a joint like 
that for a home. 

Unclean! Suppose every young man who is a moral 
leper were impelled by some uncontrollable impulse over 
which he had no power to make public revelations of his 
sins! Down the street he comes in his auto and you speak 
to him from the curbstone and he will say: "Unclean! 
Unclean!" Yonder he comes walking down the street. 
Suppose that to every man and woman he meets he is im 
pelled and compelled to make revelation of the fact that he 
is a leper. 

Leprosy is an infectious disease; it is the germ of sin. 
If there is an evil in you the evil will dwell in others. When 
we do wrong we inspire others and your lives scatter dis 
ease when you come in contact with others. If there is sin 
in the father there will be sin in the boy; if there is sin in the 
mother, there will be sin in the daughter; if there is sin in 
the sister, there will be sin in the brother; by your influence 
you win spread it. If you live the wrong way you will drag 
somebody else to perdition with you as you go, and kindred 
ties will facilitate it. 

Supposing all your hearts were open. Supposing we 
had glass doors to our hearts, and we could walk down the 
street and look in and see where you have been, and with 
whom you have been and what you have been doing. A 
good many of you would want stained-glass windows and 
heavy tapestry to cover them. 


" But the Lord Looketti on the Heart 

Suppose I could put a screen behind me, pull a string 
or push "a button, and produce on that screen a view of the 
hearts of the people. I would say: "Here is Mr. and Mrs. 
A's life, as it is, and here, as the people think it is. Here is 
what he really is. Here is where he has been. Here is how 
much booze he drinks. Heie is how much he lost last year 
at horse races." But these are the things that society does 
not take note of. Society takes no note of the flirtation on 
the street. It waits until the girl has lost her virtue and then 
it slams the door in her face. It takes no note of that young 
man drinking at a banquet table; it waits until he becomes 
a bleary-eyed drunkard and then it will slam the door in his 
face. It will take no note of the young fellow that plays 
cards for a prize; it waits until he becomes a blackleg 
gambler and then it slams the door in his face. 

God says, " Look out in the beginning for that thing," 
Society takes no note of the beginning. It waits until it 
becomes vice, and then it organizes Civic Righteousness 
clubs. Get back to the beginning and do your work there. 
God has planned to save this world through the preaching 
of men and women, and God reaches down to save men; he 
pulls them out of the grog shops and puts them on the 
water wagon. 

I never could imagine an angel coining down from heaven 
and preaching to men and women to save them. God never 
planned to save this world with the preaching of angels. 
When Jesus Christ died on the cross he died to redeem those 
whose nature he took. An angel wouldn't know what he 
was up against. Some one would say: "Good Angel, 
were you ever drunk? " "No ! " i ' Good Angel, did you ever 
swear?" "Oh, no!" "Good Angel, did you ever try to 
put up a stove-pipe in the fall?" "Oh, no!" "Did you 
ever stub your toe while walking the floor with the baby at 
three A. M?" "Oh, no!" 

' Well, then, Mr. Angel, you don't know. You say there 
is great mercy with God, but you are not tempted." 


No. God planned to save the world by saving men and 
women and letting them tell the story. 

The servant of Naaman entered the hut of the prophet 
Elisha and found him sitting on a high stool writing with a 
quill pen on papyrus. The servant bowed low and said, 
"The great and mighty Naaman, captain of the hosts of 
the king of Syria, awaits thee. Unfortunately he is a leper 
and cannot enter your august presence. He has heard of the 
miraculous cures that you have wrought and he hopes to 
become the recipient of your power." The old prophet 
of God replied: 

"Tell him, to dip seven times in the Jordan beat it, 
beat it, beat it." The servant came out to Naaman, who 
was sitting on his horse. 

"Well, is he at home?" 

"He's at home, but he is a queer duck/ 1 

Naaman thought that Elisha would come out and 
pat the sores and say incantations, like an Indian medicine 
man. Naaman was wroth, Hke many a fool today. God 
reveals to the sinner the plan of salvation and, instead of 
thanking God for salvation and doing what God wants him 
to do, he condemns God and everybody else for bothering 

Now here is a man who wants to be a Christian. What 
will he do? Will he go ask some old saloon-keeper? Will 
lie go ask some of these old brewers? Will he ask some of 
the fellows of the town? Will he ask the County Liquor 
Dealers' Association? Where will he go? To the preacher, 
of course. He is the man to go to when you want to be a 
Christian. Go to a doctor when you are sick, to a black 
smith when your horse is to be shod, but go to the preachej? 
when you want your heart set right. 

So Naaman goes into the muddy water and the water 
begins to lubricate those old sores, and it begins to itch, and 
he says, "Gee whizz," like many a young fellow today who 
goes to a church and just gets religion enough to make him 
feel miserable. An old fellow in Iowa came to me and said, 


"Bill, I have been to hear you every night and you have 
done me a lot of good. I used to cuss nay old woman every 
day and I ain't cussed her for a week. Pm getting a little " 

The Joy of ReEgion 

The trouble with many men is that they have got just 
enough religion to make them miserable. If there is no joy 
in religion, you have got a leak in your religion. Some 
haven't religion enough to pay their debts. Would that I 
might have a hook and for every debt that you left unpaid 
I might jerk off a piece of clothing. If I did some of you 
fellows would have not anything on but a celluloid collar 
and a pair of socks. 

Some of you have not got religion enough to have 
family prayer. Some of you people haven't got religion 
enough to take the beer bottles out of your cellar and throw 
them in the alley. You haven't got religion enough to tell 
that proprietor of the red light, "No, you can't rent my 
house after the first of June;" to tell the saloon-keeper, 
*'You can't rent my house when your lease runs out"; and 
I want to tell you that the man that rents his property to a 
saloon-keeper is as low-down as the saloon-keeper. The 
trouble with you is that you are so taken up with business, 
with politics, with making money, with your lodges, and each 
and every one is so dependent on the other, that you are 
scared to death to come out and live clean cut for God Al 
mighty. You have not fully surrendered yourself to God. 

The matter with a lot of you people is that your religion 
Is not complete. You have not yielded yourself to God and 
gone out for God and God's truth. Why, I am almost 
afraid to make some folks laugh for fear that I will be 
arrested for breaking a costly piece of antique brie4rbrac. 
You would think that if some people laughed it would break 
their faces. To see some people you would think that the 
essential of orthodox Christianity is to have a face so long 
you could eat oatmeal out of the end of a gas pipe. Sister, 


that is not religion; I want to tel you that the happy, 
smiling, sunny-faced religion will win more people"" to" Jesus 
Christ than the miserable old grim-faced kind "will ""in ten 
years. I pity anyone who can't laugh. There must be 
something wrong with their religion or their liver. The 
devil can't laugh. 

So I can see Naaman as he goes into the water and dips 
seven times, and lo! his flesh becomes again as a little child ?s. 
When? When he did what God told Mm to, do. 

I have seen men come down the aisle by the thousands, 
men who have drank whisky enough to sink a ship. I have 
seen fallen women come to the front by scores and hundreds, 
and I have seen them go away cleansed by the power of God. 
When? When they did just what God told them to do. 

I wish to God the Church were as afraid of imperfection 
as it is of perfection. 

I saw a woman that for twenty-seven years had been 
proprietor of a disorderly house, and I saw her come down 
the aisle, close her doors, turn the girls out of her house and 
live for God. I saw enough converted in one town where 
there were four disorderly houses to close their doors; they 
were empty; the girls had all fled home to their mothers. 

Out in Iowa a fellow came to me and spread a napkin 
on the platform a napkin as big as a tablecloth. He said: 
"I want a lot of shavings and sawdust." 

"What for?" 

"Ill tell you; I want enough to make a sofa pillow. 
Right here is where I knelt down and was converted and my 
wife and four children, and my neighbors. I would like to 
have enough to make a sofa pillow to have something in my 
home to help me think of God, I don't want to forget God, 
or that I was saved. Can you give me enough?" 

I said, "Yes, indeed, and if you want enough to make a 
mattress, all right, take it; and if you want enough of the 
tent to make a pair of breeches for each of the boys, why take 
your scissors and cut it right out, if it will help you to keep 
your mind on God." 


That is why I like to have people come down to the 
front and publicly acknowledge God. I like to have a 
man have a definite experience in religion something to 


And I say to you, young girl, don't go with that godless, 
God-forsaken, sneering young man that walks the streets 
smoking cigarettes. He would not walk the streets with 
you if you smoked cigarettes. But you say you will marry 
him and reform him; he would not marry you to reform you. 
Don't go to that dance. Don't you know that it is the most 
damnable^ low-down institution on the face of God's earth, 
that it causes more ruin than anything this side of hell? 
Don't you go with that young man; don't you go to that 
dance. That is why we have so many whip-poor-will widows 
around the country: they married some of these mutts to 
reform them, and instead of doing that the undertaker got 
them. I say, young girl, don't go to that dance; it has proven 
to be the moral graveyard that has caused more ruination 
than anything that was ever spewed out of. the mouth of 
hell. Don't go with that young fellow for a joy ride at mid 

Girls, when some young fellow comes up and asks you 
the greatest question that you will ever be asked or called 
upon to answer, next to the salvation of your own soul, 
what will you say? "Oh, this is so sudden!" That is all 
a bluff; you have been waiting for it all the time. 

But, girls, never mind now, get down to facts. When 
he asks you the greatest question, the most important one 
that any girl is ever asked, next to the salvation of her soul, 
just say, "Sit down and let me ask you three questions. I 
want to ask you these three questions and if I am satisfied 
with your answer, it will determine my answer to your ques 
tion. Did you believe me to be virtuous when you came 
here to ask me to be your wife?" "Oh, yes, I believed you to 
be virtuous. That's the reason I came here. You are like 


violets dipped in dew." The second question : "Have you 
as a young man lived as you demand of me as a girl that I 
should have lived?" The third question: "If I, as a girl, 
had lived and done as you, as a young man, and you knew 
it, would you ask me to marry you?" 

They will line up and nine times out of ten they will 
take the count. You can line them up, and I know what I 
am talking about, and I defy any man on God's earth suc 
cessfully to contradict me. I have the goods. The average 
young man is more particular about the company he keeps 
than the average girl. I'll tell you. If he meets somebody 
on the street whom he doesn't want to meet he will duck into 
the first open doorway and avoid the publicity of meeting 
her, for fear she might smile or give an indication that she 
had seen him somewhere and sometime before that. Yet 
our so-called best girls keep company with young men 
whose character would make a black mark on a piece of 
anthracite. Their characters are foul and rotten and 

I like to see a girl who has a good head, and can choose 
right because it is right, never minding the criticism. Choose 
the good and be careful of good company and good conduct, 
and keep company with a good young fellow. Don't go with 
the fellow whose reputation is bad. Everybody knows it is 
bad, and if you are seen with him you will lose your reputa 
tion as well, although your virtue is intact; and they might 
as well take you to the graveyard and bury you, when your 
reputation is gone. When a man like that asks you to go 
with him, say to him that if he will live the way you want 
him to you will go with him. If he would take a stand like 
that there wouldn't be so many wrecks. If our women 
and girls would take higher stands and say, "No, no, we will 
not keep company with you unless you live the way I want 
you to," there would be better men. A lot of you women 
hold yourselves too cheaply. You are scared to death for 
fear you will be what the world irreverently calls "an old 



You remember the prophet Eiisha and his journey 
to the school of prophets up to Mount Carmel. There was 
a woman who noticed the actions and conduct of the man of 
God and she said to her husband, "Let us build a little room 
and place therein a bed, and bowl and pitcher, that he may 
make it his home." 

The suggestion evidently met with the approval of the 
husband, because ever afterward the man of God enjoyed this 
hospitality. I sometimes thought she might have been a 
new woman of the olden times, because no mention is made 
of the husband. You never hear of some old lobsters 
unless they are fortunate enough to marry a woman who does 
things and their name is always mentioned in connection 
with what the wife does. 

You know there are homes in which the advent of one. 
two and possibly three children is considered a curse instead 
of a blessing. God, in his providence, has often denied the 
honor of maternity to some women. But there are married 
women who shrink from maternity, not because of ill health, 
but simply because they love ease, because they love fine 
garments and ability to flirt like a butterfly at some social 

Crimes have been and are being committed; hands are 
stained with blood; and that very crime has made France 
the charnel house of the world. And America, we of our 
boasted intelligence and wealth, we are fast approaching 
the same doom, until or unless it behooves somebody with 
grit and courage to preach against the prevailing sins and 
run the risk of incurring the displeasure of people who divert 
public attention from their own vileness rather than con 
demn themselves for the way they are living. They say 
the man who is preaching against it is vulgar, rather than 
the man who did it. 

I am sure there is not an angel in heaven that would not 
be glad to come to earth and be honored with motherhood 
if God would grant her that privilege. What a grand thing 


it must be, sit the end of your earthly career, to look back 
upon a noble and godly life, knowing you did al! you could 
to help leave this old world to God and made your contri 
butions in tears and in prayers and taught your offspring 
to be God-fearing, so that when you went you would continue 
to produce your noble character in your children. 

Maternity Out of Fashion 

Society has just about put maternity out of fashion* 
When you stop to consider the average 
society woman I do not think maternity 
has lost anything. The humbler children 
are raised by their mothers instead of being 
turned over to a governess. 

There are too many girls who marry 
for other causes than love. I think am 
bition, indulgence and laziness lead more 
girls to the altar than love girls not 
actuated by love, but simply willing to pay 
the price of wifehood to wear fin^clothes.^ 
They are not moved by the noble desires 
of manhood or womanhood. 

Some girls marry for novelty and some 
girls marry for a home. Some fool mothers 
encourage girls to marry for ease so they 
"SOCIETY HAS JUST can go to the matinee and buzz around. 
^mn-^TY^ MA ~ Some fool girls marry for money and some 
FASHION " girls marry for society, because by con 
necting their name with a certain family's 
they go up a rung in the social ladder, and some girls marry 
young bucks to reform them and they are the biggest fools 
in the bunch, because the bucks would not marry the girls 
to reform them. 

You mothers are worse fools to encourage your daughter 
to marry some old lobster because his father has money and 
when he dies, maybe your daughter can have good clothes 
and ride in an auto instead of hoofing it. Look ' atTtfie 


girls on the auction block today. Look at the awful battle 
the average stenographer and average clerk has to fight. 
You cannot work for six dollars a week and wear fine duds 
and be on the square as much as you are without having the 
people suspicious. 

In a letter to Miss Borson, President Roosevelt said: 
"The man or woman who avoids marriage and has a heart 
so cold as to know no passion and a brain so shallow as to 
dislike having children is, in fact, a criminal." 

Is it well with thee? Is it well with your husband? 
"The best man in the world," you answer. Very well; 
is it well with the child? I think its responsibilities are equal, 
if they don't outweigh its privileges, and when God is in 
the heart of the child, I don't wonder that that home is a 
haven of peace and rest. 

I have no motive in preaching except the interest I have 
in the moral welfare of the people. There is not money 
enough to hire me to preach. I tell you, ladies, we have to 
do something more than wipe our eyes, and blow our nose, 
and say "Come to Jesus." Go out and shell the woods and 
make them let you know why they don't "come to Jesus." 

I believe the time will come when sex hygiene will form 
part of the 2ugh-school curriculum. I would rather have 
my children taught sex hygiene than Greek and Latin. A 
lot of the high-school curriculum is mere fad. I think the 
time will come when our girls will be taught in classes with 
some graduated woman physician for an instructor. 

Women live on a higher plane, morally, than men. No 
woman was ever ruined that some brute of a mw, did not 
take the initiative. Women have kept themselves purer than 
men. I believe a good woman is the best thing this side of 
heaven and a bad woman the worst thing this side of hell. 
I think woman rises higher and sinks lower than man. I 
think she is the most degraded on earth or the purest on 

Our homes are on the level with women. Towns are 
on the level with homes. What women are our homes will 


be; and what the town is, the men will be, so you hold the 
destiny of the nation. 

I believe there is something unfinished in the make-up 
of a girl who does not have religion. The average girl today 
no longer looks forward to motherhood as the crowning 
glory of womanhood. She is turning her home into a gam- 
bljing shop and a social beer-and-champagne-drinking joint, 
and her society is made up of poker players, champagne, wine 
and beer drinkers, grass-widowers and jilted jades and slan 
der-mongers that comprises the society of many a girl 
today. She is becoming a matinee-gadder and fudge-eater. 

The Girl Who Flirts 

I wish I could make a girl that flirts see herself as others 
see her. If you make eyes at a man on the street he will 
pay you back. It doesn't mean that you are pretty. It 
means that if you don ? t care any more for yourself than that 
why should he? The average man will take a girl at her 
personal estimate of herself. 

It takes a whole lot of nerve for a fellow to look a girl 
in the face and say, "Will you be my wife and partner, and 
help me fight the battle during life?" but I think it means a 
whole lot more to the girl who has to answer and fight that 
question. But the fool girl loafs around and waits to be 
chosen and takes the first chance she gets and seems to think 
that if they get made one, the laws of man can make them 
two again. 

The divorce laws are damnable. * America is first in 
many things that I love, but there are many things that are 
a disgrace. We lead the world in crime; and lead the 
world in divorce we who boast of our culture. 

Many a girl has found out after she is married that it 
would have been a good deal easier to die an old maid than 
to have said "yes," and become the wife of some cigarette- 
smoking, cursing, damnable libertine. They will launch 
the matrimonial boat and put the oars in and try it once for 
luck, anyway, and so we have many women praying for un 
converted husbands. 


I preached like this in a town once and the next day I 
heard of about five engagements that were broken. I can 
give you advice now, but if the knot is tied, the thing is done* 

I am a Eoman Catholic on divorce. There are a whole 
lot of things worse than living and dying an old maid and 
one of them is marrying the wrong man. So don't be one to 
do that. 

Now, girls, don't simper and look silly when you speak 
about love. There is nothing silly about it, although some 
folks are silly because they are in love. Love is the noblest 
and purest gift of God to man and womankind. Don't let 
your actions advertise "Man Wanted, Quick/' That is 
about the surest way not to get a man. You might get a 
thing with breeches on, but he is no man 

Many a woman is an old maid because she wanted to do 
her share of the courting. Don't get excited and want to 
hurry things along. If a man begins to act as though he is 
after you, the surest way to get him is just to make him feel 
you don't want him, unless you drive him off by appearing 
too indifferent. 

And, girls, don't worry if you think you are not going 
to get a chance to marry. Some^of the noblest men in the 
world have been bachelors and some of the noblest women 
old maids. And, woman, for God's sake, when you do get 
married, don't transfer the love God gave you to bestow on 
a little child to a Spitz dog or a brindle pup. 

The Task of Womanhood 

All great women are satisfied with their common sphere 
in life and think it is enough to fill the lot GodT gave them 
in this world as wife and mother. I tell you the devil and 
women can damn this world, and Jesus and women can save 
this old world. It remains with womanhood today to lift 
our social life to a higher plane. 

Mothers, be more careful of your boys and girls. Ex 
plain these evils that contaminate our social life today. I 
have had women say to me, "Mr. Sunday, don't you think 


there Is danger of talking too much to them when they are 
so young? n Not much; just as soon as a girl is able to know 
the pure from the impure she should be taught. Oh, mothers, 
mothers, you don't know what your girl is being led to by 
this false and mock modesty. 

Don't teach your girls that the only thing in the world 
is to marry. Why, some girls marry infidels because they 
were not taught to say "I would not do it." A girl is a big 
fool to marry an infidel. God says, "Be ye not unequally, 
yoked with unbelievers." 

I believe there is a race yet to appear which will be as 
far superior in morals to us as we are superior to the morals 
in the days of Julius Caesar; but that race will never appear 
until God-fearing young men marry God-fearing girls and 
the offspring are God-fearing. 

Culture will never save the world. If these miserable 
human vampires who feed and fatten upon the virtue of 
womanhood can get off with impunity; nay, more, be 
feasted and petted and coddled by society, we might as well 
back-pedal out and sink in shame, for we can never see to 
the heights nor command the respect of the great and good. 

What paved the way for the downfall of the mightiest 
dynasties proud and haughty Greece and imperial Rome? 
The downfall of their womanhood. The virtue of womaniood 
is the rampart wall of American civilization. Break that 
down and with the stones thereof you can pave your way to 
the hottest hell, and reeking vice and corruption. 

"Help Those Women" 

If the womanhood of America had been no better than its manhood, the 
devil would have had the country fenced in long ago. BILLY SUNDAY. 

^T^HE average American is somewhat of a sentimentalist. 

I "Home, Sweet Home," is an American song. No 

"*- people, except possibly the Irish, respond more 

readily to the note of "Mother" than the Americans. No 

other nation honors womanhood so greatly. We are really 

a chivalrous people. 

In this respect, as in so many others, Sunday is true 
to type. His sermons abound with passages which express 
the best American sentiment toward womanhood. It is 
good for succeeding generations that such words as the 
following should be uttered in the ears of tens and hun 
dreds of thousands of young people, and reprinted in scores 
and hundreds of newspapers. 


The story of Moses is one of the most beautiful and 
fascinating in all the world. It takes a hold on us and 
never for an instant does it lose its interest, for it is so 
graphically told that once heard it is never forgotten. 

I have often imagined the anxiety with which that 
child was born, for he came into the world with the sen 
tence of death hanging over him, for Pharaoh had decreed 
that the male children should die. The mother defied even 
the command of the king and determined that the child 
should live, and right from the beginning the battle of 
right against might was fought at the cradle. 

Moses* mother ^salave She had to work in the 


brickyards or labor in the field, but God was on her side 
and she won, as the mother always wins with God on her 



side. Before going to work she had to choose some hiding 
place for her child, and she put his little sister, Miriam, on 
guard while she kept herself from being seen by the soldiers 
of Pharaoh, who were seeking everywhere to murder the 
Jewish male children. For three months she kept him 
hidden, possibly finding a new hiding place every few days. 
It is hard to imagine anything more difficult than to hide 
a healthy, growing baby, and he was hidden for three 
months. Now he was grown larger and more full of life 
and a more secure hiding place had to be found, and I can 
imagine this mother giving up her rest and sleep to prepare 
an ark for the saving of her child. 

I believe the plan must have been formulated in 
heaven. I have often thought God must have been as 
much interested in that work as was the mother of Moses, 
for you can't make me believe that an event so important 
as that, and so far-reaching in its results, ever happened by 
luck or chance. Possibly God whispered the plan to the 
mother when she went to him in prayer and in her grief 
because she was afraid the sword of Pharaoh would murder 
her child. And how carefully the material out of which 
the ark was made had to be selected! I think every twig 
was carefully scrutinized in order that nothing poor might 
get into its composition, and the weaving of that ark, the 
mother's heart, her soul, her prayers, her tears, were inter 

Oh, if you mothers would exercise as much care over 
the company your children keep, over the books they read 
and the places they go, there would not be so many girls 
feeding the red-light district, nor so many boys growing up 
to lead criminal lives. And with what thanksgiving she 
must have poured out her heart when at last the work 
was done and the ark was ready to carry its precious cargo, 
more precious than if it was to hold the crown jewels of 
Egypt. And I can imagine the last night that baby was 
in the home. Probably some of you can remember when 
the last night came when baby was alive; you can remem- 


ber the last night the coffin stayed, and the next day the 
pall-bearers and the hearse caine. The others may have 
slept soundly, but there was no sleep for you, and I can 
imagine there was no sleep for Moses' mother. 

" There are whips and tops and pieces of string 

And shoes that no little feet ever wear; 
There are bits of ribbon and broken wings 
And tresses of golden hair* 

'There are dainty jackets that never are worn 

There are toys and models of ships; 
There are books and pictures all faded and torn 

And marked by finger tips 
Of dimpled hands that have fallen to dust 
Yet we strive to think that the Lord is just. 

"Yet a feeling of bitterness fills our soul; 

Sometimes we try to pray, 
That the Reaper has spared so many flowers 

And taken ours away. 

And we sometimes doubt if the Lord can know 
How our riven hearts did love them so 

"But we think of our dear ones dead, 

Our children who never grow old, 
And how they are waiting and watching for us 

In the city with streets of gold; 
And how they are safe through all the years 

Prom sickness and want and war. 
We thank the great God, with falling tears, 

For the things in the cabinet drawer." 

A Mother's Watchfulness 

Others in the house might have slept, but not a 
moment could she spare of the precious time allotted her 
with her little one, and all through the night she must have 
prayed that God would shield and protect her baby and 
bless the work she had done and the step she was about to 

Some people often say to me : "I wonder what the angels 


do; how they employ their time?" I think I know what 
some of them did that night. You can bet they were not 
out to some bridge-whist party. They guarded that house 
so carefully that not a soldier of old Pharaoh ever crossed 
the threshold. They saw to it that not one of them harmed 
that baby. 

At dawn the mother must have kissed him good-bye, 
placed him in the ark and hid him among the reeds and 
rushes, and with an aching heart and tear-dimmed eyes 
turned back again to the field and back to the brickyards to 
labor and wait to see what God would do. She had done 
her prayerful best, and when you have done that you can 
bank on God to give the needed help. If we only believed 
that with God all things are possible no matter How*improb- 
able, what unexpected answers the Lord would give to our 
prayers! She knew God would help her some way, but 
I don't think she ever dreamed that God would help her by 
sending Pharaoh's daughter to care for the child. It was 
no harder for God to send the princess than it was to get 
the mother to prepare the ark. What was impossible from 
her standpoint was easy for God. 

Pharaoh's daughter came down to the water to bathe, 
and the ark was discovered, just as God wanted it to be, 
and one of her maids was sent to fetch it. You often wonder 
what the angels are doing. I think some of the angels herded 
the crocodiles on the other side of the Nile to keep them from 
finding Moses and eating him up. You can bank on it, all 
heaven was interested to see that not one hair of that baby's 
head was injured. There weren't devils enough in hell to 
pull one hair out of its head. The ark was brought and with 
feminine curiosity the daughter of Pharaoh had to look into 
it to see what was there, and when they removed the cover, 
there was lying a strong, healthy baby boy, kicking up his 
heels and sucking his thumbs, as probably most of us did 
when we were boys, and probably as you did when you were 
a girl. The baby looks up and weeps, and those tears blotted 
out all that was against it and gave it a chance for its life* 

WOMEN" 235 

I don't know, but I think an aogeurtbod there and pinched It 
to make it cry, for it cried atjhe right time. Just as God 
plans, God always does thjbgs^aT^be right time. Give 
God a chance; he may be a little slow at times, but he will 
always get around in time. 

The tears of that baby were the jewels with which 
Israel was ransomed from Egyptian bondage. The princess 
had a woman's heart and when a woman's heart and a 
baby's tears meet, something happens %at gives the devil 
cold feet. Perhaps the princess had a b4by that had died, 
and the sight of Moses may have tojto the wound open 
and made it bleed afresh. But she had a woman's heart, 
and that made her forget she was the daughter of Pharaoh 
and she was determined to give protection to that baby. 
Faithful Miriam (the Lord be praised for Miriam) saw the 
heart of the princess reflected in her face. Miriam had stud 
ied faces so much that she could read the princess' heart as 
plainly as if written in an open book, and she said TO her: 
"Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the 
child for you?" and the princess said, "Go." 

I see her little feet and legs ^^as-sfae'runs down the hot, 
dusty road, and her mother must have seen her coming 
a mile away, and she ran to meet her own baby put back 
in her arms. And she was being paid Egyptian gold to take 
care of her own baby. See how the Lord does things? "Now 
you take this child and nurse it for me and I will pay you 
your wages." It was a joke on Pharaoh's daughter, paying 
Moses' mother for doing what she wanted to do more than 
anything else nurse her own baby. 

How quickly the mother was paid for these long hours 
of anxiety and alarm and grief, and if the angels know what 
is going on what a hilarious time there must have been in 
heaven when they saw Moses and Miriam back at home, 
under the protection of the daughter of Pharaoh. I imagine 
she dropped on her knees and poured out her heart to God, 
who had helped her so gloriously. She must have said: 
"Well, Lord, I knew you would help me. I knew you would 


take care of my baby when I made the ark and put him 
in it and put it in the water, but I never dreamed that you 
would put him back into my arms to take care of, so I would 

not have to work and slave in the field and make brick and 
be tortured almost to death for fear that the soldiers of 

Pharaoh would find my baby and kill him* I never thought 
you would soften the stony heart of Pharaoh and make him 
pay me for what I would rather do than anything else in this 
world." I expect to meet Moses' mother in heaven, and I 
am going to ask her how much old Pharaoh had to pay her 
for that job. I think that's one of the best jokes, that old 
sinner having to pay the mother to take care of her own baby. 
But I tell you, if you give God a chance, he will fill your 
heart to overflowing. Just give him a chance. 

A Mother's Bravery 

This mother had remarkable pluck. Everything was 
against her but she would not give up. Her heart never 
failed. She made as brave a fight as any man ever made 
at the sound of the cannon or the roar of musketry. 

"The bravest battle that was ever fought, 

Shall I tell you where and when? 
On the maps of the world you'll find it not 
*Twas fought by the mothers of men. 

"Nay, not with cannon or battle shot, 

With sword or noble pen, 
Nay, not with the eloquent word or thought, 
From the mouths of wonderful men. 

"But deep in the walled-up woman's heart 

Of women that would not yield. 
But, bravely, silently bore their part 
Lo, there is the battle-field. 

"No marshaling troops, no bivouac son& 

No banner to gleam and wave; 
But oh, these battles they last so long--* 
' From babyhood to the grave. 1 ! 


Mothers axe always brave when the safety of their 
children is concerned. 

This incident happened out West. A mother was work 
ing in a garden and the little one was sitting under a tree in 
the yard playing. The mother heard the child scream; 
she ran, and a huge snake was wrapping its coils about the 
baby, and as its head swung around she leaped and grabbed 
it by the neck and tore it from her baby and hurled it 
against a tree". 

Fathers often give up. The old man often goes to booz 
ing, becomes dissipated, takes a dose of poison and commits 
suicide; but the mother will stand by the home and keep 
the little band together if she has to manicure her finger nails 
over a washboard to do it. If men had half as much grit 
as the women there would be different stories written about 
a good many homes. Look at her work! It is the greatest 
in the world; in its far-reaching importance it is transcend- 
ently above everything in the universe her task in molding 
hearts and lives and shaping character. If you want to find 
greatness don't go to the throne, go to the cradle; and the 
nearer you get to the cradle the nearer you get to greatness. 
Now, when Jesus wanted to give his disciples an impressive 
object lesson he called in a college professor, did he? Not 
much. He brought in a little child and said: "Except ye 
become as one of these, ye shall in no wise enter the kingdom 
of God." The work is so important that God will not trust 
anybody with it but a mother. The launching of a boy or 
a girl to live for Christ is greater work than the launching 
of a battleship. 

Moses was a chosen vessel of the Lord and God wanted 
him to get the right kind of a start, so he gave him a good 
mother. There wasn't a cqljege professor in all Egypt that 
God would trust with that baby! so he put the child back 
in its mother's ,axms m He knew the best one on earth to 
trust with that baby was its own mother. When God sends 
us great men he wants to have them get the right kind of a 
start. So he sees to it that they have a good mother. Most 


any old stick will do for a daddy. God is particular about 
the mothers. 

Good Mothers Weeded 

And so the great need of this country, or any other 
country, is good mothers, and I believe we have more good 
mothers in America than any other nation on earth. If 
Washington's mother had been like a Happy Hooligan's 
mother, Washington would have been a Happy Hooligan. 

Somebody has said: "God could not be everywhere, so 
he gave us mothers/ 7 Now there may be poetry in it, but 
it's true "that the hand that rocks the cradle .rules the world* 
and if every cradle was rocked'" by a good mother, tiSeTworld 
would be full of good men, as sure as you breathe. If every 
boy and every girl today had a good mother, the saloons and 
disreputable houses would go out of business tomorrow. 

A young man one time joined a church and the preacher 
asked him: "What was it I said that induced you to be a 

Said the young man: "Nothing that I ever heard you 
say, but it is the way my mother lived." I tell you an ounce 
of example outweighs forty million tons of theory and specu 
lation. If the mothers would live as they should, we preach 
ers would have little to do. Keep the devil out of the boys 
and girls and he will get out of the world. The old sinners 
will die off if we keep the young ones clean. 

The biggest place in the world is that which is being 
filled by the people who are closely in touch with youth. 
Being a king, an emperor or a president is mighty^ small 
potatoes compared to being a mother or the teacher of chil 
dren, whether in a public school or in a Sunday school, and 
they fill places so great that there isn't an angel in heaven 
that wouldn't be glad to give a bushel of diamonds to boot 
to come down here and take their places. Commanding 
an army is little more than sweeping a street or pounding 
an anvil compared with the training of a boy or girL The 
mother of Moses did more for the world than all the 


that Egypt ever had. To teach a child to love truth and hate 
a lie, to love purity and hate vice, is greater than inventing 
a flying machine that will take you to the moon before break 
fast. Unconsciously you set in motion influences that will 
damn or bless the old universe and bring new worlds out of 
chaos and transform them for God. 

God's Hall of Fame 

A man sent a friend of mine some crystals and said: 
"One of these crystals as large as a pin point will give a 
distinguishable green hue to sixteen hogsheads of water." 
Think of it ! Power enough in an atom to tincture sixteen 
hogsheads of water. There is power in a word or act 
to blight a boy and, through Mm, curse a community. 
There is power enough in a word to tincture the life of 
that child so that it will become a power to lift the world 
to Jesus Christ. The mothers will put in motion influences 
that will either touch heaven or hell. Talk about greatness! 

Oh, you wait until you reach the mountains of eternity, 
then read the mothers' names in God's hall of fame, and see 
what they have been in this world. Wait until you see God's 
hall of fame; you will see women bent over the washtub. 

I want to tell you women that fooling away your time 
hugging and kissing a poodle dog, caressing a "Spitz," 
drinking society brandy-mash and a cocktail, and playing 
cards, is mighty small business compared to molding the 
life of a child. 

Tell me, where did Moses get his faith? From Ms 
mother. Where did Moses get Ms backbone to say: "I 
won't be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter?" He got 
it from Ms mother. Where did Moses get the nerve to say, 
"Excuse me, please/' to the pleasures of Egypt? He got 
it from Ms mother. You can bank on it he didn't inhale it 
from Ms dad. Many a boy would have turned out better 
if Ms old dad had died before the kid was born. You tell 
your boy to keep out of bad company. Sometimes when he 
walks down the street wittt Ms father he's in the worst 


company in town. His dad smokes, drinks and chews. 
Moses got it from Ms mother. He was learned in all 
the wisdom of Egypt, but that didn't give him the swelled 

When God wants to throw a world out into space, he 
is not concerned about it. The first mile that world takes 
settles its course for eternity. When God throws a child 
out into the world he is mighty anxious that it gets a good 
start. The Catholics are right when they say: "Give us 
the children until they are ten years old and we don't 
care who has them after that." The Catholics are not 
losing any sleep about losing men and women from their 
church membership. It is the only church that has ever 
shown us the only sensible way to reach the masses that is, 
by getting hold of the children. That's the only way on 
God's earth that you will ever solve the problem of reaching 
the masses. You get the boys and girls started right, and 
the devil will hang a crape on his door, bank his fires, and hell 
wiU be for rent before the Fourth of July. 

A friend of mine has a little girl that she was com 
pelled to take to the hospital for an operation. They 
thought she would be frightened, but she said: "I don't 
care if mama will be there and hold my hand." They 
prepared her for the operation, led her into the room, put 
her on the table, put the cone over her face and saturated 
it with ether, and she said: "Now, mama, take me by 
the hand and hold it and I'll not be afraid." And the 
mother stood there and held her hand. The operation was 
performed, and when she regained consciousness, they 
said: "Bessie, weren't you afraid when they put you on 
the table?" She said: "No, mama stood there and held 
my hand. I wasn't afraid." 

There is a mighty power in a mother's hand. There's 
more power in a woman's hand than there is in a king's 

And there is a mighty power in a mother's kiss 
inspiration, courage, hope, ambition, in a mother's kiss. 


One kiss made Benjamin West a painter* and the memory 
of it clung to him through life. One Mss will drive away 
the fear in the dark and make the little one brave. It will 
give strength where there is weakness. 

I was in a town one day and saw a mother out with 
her boy, and he had great steel braces on both legs, to Ms 
hips, and when I got near enough to them I learned by 
their conversation that that wasn't the first time the mother 
had had him out for a walk. She had Mm out exercising 
him so he would get the use of his limbs. He was struggling 
and she smiled and said: "You are doing finely today; 
better than you did yesterday." And she stooped and 
kissed him, and the kiss of encouragement made him work 
all the harder, and she said: "You are doing nobly, son." 
And he said: "Mama, I'm going to run; look at me." 
And he started, and one of his toes caught on the steel 
brace on the other leg and he stumbled, but she caught 
him and kissed him, and said: "That was fine, son; how 
well you did it!" Now, he did it because his mother had 
encouraged him with a kiss. He didn't do it to show 
off. There is nothing that will help and inspire life like a 
mother's kiss. 

"If we knew the baby fingers pressed against the window pane, 
Would be cold and still tomorrow, never trouble us again, 
Would the bright eyes of our darling catch the frown upon our brow? 

"Let us gather up the sunbeams lying all around our path, 
Let us keep the wheat and roses, casting out the thorns and chaff! 
We shall find our sweetest comforts in the blessings of today, 
With a patient hand removing all the briars from our way." 

A Mother's Song 

There is power in a mother's song, too. It's the best 
music the world has ever heard. The best music in the 
world is like biscuits it's the kind mother makes. There 
is no brass band or pipe organ that can hold a candle to 
mother's song. Calve, Melba, Nordica, Eames, Schumann- 


Heinck, they are cheap skates, compared to mother. They 
can't sing at all. They don't know the rudiments of the 
kind of music mother sings. The kind she sings gets 
tangled up in your heart strings. There would be a dis 
appointment in the music of heaven to me if there were no 
mothers there to sing. The song of an angel or a seraph 
would not have much charm for me. What would you care 
for an angel's song if there were no mother's song? 

The song of a mother is sweeter than that ever sung 
by minstrel or written by poet. Talk about sonnets! 
You ought to hear the mother sing when her babe is on her 
breast, when her heart is filled with emotion. Her voice 
may not please an artist, but it will please any one who 
has a heart in him. The songs that have moved the world 
are not the songs written by the great masters. The best 
music, in my judgment, is not the faultless rendition of 
these high-priced opera singers. There is nothing in art 
that can put into melody the happiness which associations 
and memories bring. I think when we reach heaven it 
will be found that some of the best songs we will sing there 
will be those we learned at mother's knee. 

A Mothers Love 

There is power in a mother's love. A mother's love 
must be like God's love. How God could ever tell the 
world that he loved it without a mother's help has often 
puzzled me. If the devils in hell ever turned pale, it was 
the day mother's love flamed up for the first time in a 
woman's heart. If the devil ever got "cold feet" it was 
that day, in my judgment. 

You know a mother has to love her babe before it is 
born. like God, she has to go into the shadows of the 
valley of death to bring it into the world, and she will love 
her dnld, suffer for it, and it can grow up and become vile 
and yet she will love it. Nothing will make her blame it, 
and I think, women, that one of the awful things in hell 
will be that there will be no mother's love there. Nothing 


but black, bottomless, endless, eternal hate in hell no 
mother's love. 

"And though he creep through the vilest caves of sin, 
And crouch perhaps, with bleared and blood-shot eyes, 
Under the hangman's rope a mother's lips 
Will kiss him in his last bed of disgrace, 
And love him e'en for what she hoped of Mm." 

I thank God for what mother's love has done for 
the world. 

Oh, there is power in a mother's trust. Surely as 
Moses was put in his mother's arms by the princess, so 
God put the babes in your arms, as a charge from him to 
raise and care for. Every child is put in a mother's arms 
as a trust from God, and she has to answer to God for the 
way she deals with that child. No mother on God's earth 
has any right to raise her children for pleasure. She has 
no right to send them to dancing school and haunts of sin. 
You have no right to do those things that will curse your 
children. That babe is put in your arms to train for the 
Lord. No mother has any more right to raise her children 
for pleasure than I have to pick your pockets or throw 
red pepper in your eyes. She has no more right to do that 
than a bank cashier has to rifle the vaults and take the 
savings of the people. One of the worst sins you can com 
mit is to be unfaithful to your trust. 

A Mother's Responsibility 

"Take this child and nurse it for me." That id all the 
business you have with it. That is a jewel that belongs 
to God and he gives it to you to polish for him so he can 
set it in a crown. Who knows but that Judas became the 
godless, good-for-nothing wretch he was because he had a 
godless, good-for-nothing mother? Do you know? I 
don't. What is more to blame for the crowded prisons 
than mothers? Who is more to blame for the crowded 
disreputable houses than you are, who let your children 


gad the streets, with every Tom, Dick and Hany, or keep 
company with some little jack rabbit whose character 
would make a black mark on a piece of tar paper? I have 
talked with men in prisons who have damned their mothers 
to my face. Why? They blame their mothers for their 
being where they are. 

"Take the child and nurse it for me, and I will pay 
you your wages." God pays in joy that is fire-proof, 
famine-proof and devil-proof. He will pay you, don't you 
worry. So get your name on God's pay-roll. "Take this 
child and nurse it for me, and I will pay you your wages. 77 
If you haven't been doing that, then get your name on 
God 7 s pay-roll. 

"Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will pay 
you your wages. 77 Then your responsibility! It is so 
great that I don ? t see how any woman can fail to be a 
Christian and serve God. What do you think God will 
do if the mother fails? I stagger under it. What, if 
through your unfaithfulness, your boy becomes a curse 
and your daughter a blight? What, if through your neglect, 
that boy becomes a Judas when he might have been a John 
or Paul? 

Down in Cincinnati some years ago a mother went 
to the zoological garden and stood leaning over the bear 
pit, watching the bears and dropping crumbs and peanuts 
to them. In her arms she held her babe, a year and three 
months jld. She was so interested in the bears that the 
baby w iggled itself out of her arms and feU into the bear 
pit, and she watched those huge monsters rip it to shreds. 
What a veritable hell it will be through all her life to know 
that her little one was lost through her own carelessness 
and neglect! 

"Take this child and raise it for me, and I will pay 
you your wages." Will you promise and covenant with 
God, and with me, and with one another, that from now 
on you will try, with God's help, to do better than you 
ever have done to raise your children for God? 


"I once read the story of an angel who stole out of 
heaven and came to this world one bright, sunshiny day; 
roamed through field, forest, city and hamlet, and as the 
sun went down plumed his wings for the return flight. 
The angel said: "Now that my visit is over, before I return 
I must gather some mementos of my trip." He looked 
at the beautiful flowers in the garden and said: "How 
lovely and fragrant," and plucked the rarest roses, made 
a bouquet, and said: "I see nothing more beautiful and 
fragrant than these flowers." The angel looked farther 
and saw a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked child, and said: "That 
baby is prettier than the flowers; I will take that, too," 
and looking behind to the cradle, he saw a mother's love 
pouring out over her babe like a gushing spring, and the 
angel said: "The mother's love is the most beautiful thing 
I have seen! I will take that, too." 

And with these three treasures the heavenly messenger 
winged his flight to the pearly gates, saying: "Before I 
go I must examine the mementos of my trip to the earth." 
He looked at the flowers; they had withered. He looked 
at the baby's smile, and it had faded. He looked at the 
mother's love, and it shone in all its pristine beauty. Then 
he threw away the withered flowers, cast aside the faded 
smile, and with the mother's love pressed to his breast, 
swept through the gates into the city, shouting that the 
only thing he had found that would retain its fragrance 
from earth to heaven was a mother's love. 

"Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will pay 
you your wages." 

When Napoleon Bonaparte was asked, "What do you 
regard as the greatest need of France?" he replied," Mothers, 
mothers, mothers." You women can make a hell of a home 
or a heaven of a home. Don't turn your old Gatlipg-gun 
tongue loose and rip everybody up and rip your husbands 
up and send them out of their homes. If I were going 
to investigate your piety I would ask the girl who works 
for you. 


This talk about the land of the free is discounted 
when the children look like a rummage sale in a second 
hand store; with uncombed hair, ripped pants, buttons off, 
stockings hanging down. It doesn't take the wisdom of 
truth to see that mother is too busy with her social duties, 
clubs, etc., to pay much attention to the kids* 

Mothers of Great Men 

The mother of Nero was a murderess, and it is no 
wonder that he fiddled while Rome burned. The mother 
of Patrick Henry was eloquent, and that is the reason why 
every school boy and girl knows,, "Give me liberty or give 
me death." Coleridge's mother taught him Biblical 
stories from the old Dutch tile of the fireplace. In the 
home authority is needed today more than at any time 
in the history of this nation. I have met upon the arena 
of the conflict every form of man and beast imaginable 
to meet, and I am convinced that neither law nor gospel 
can make a nation without home authority and home 
example. Those two things are needed. The boy who 
has a wholesome home and surroundings and a judicious 
control included does not often find his way into the 

Susanna Wesley was the mother of nineteen children, 
and she held them for God. When asked how she did it 
she replied, "By getting hold of their hearts in their youth, 
and never losing my grip." 

If it had not been for the expostulations of the mother 
of George Washington, George Washington would have 
become a midshipman in the British navy, and the name 
of that capital yonder would have been some other. John 
Randolph said in the House of Representatives, "If it had 
not been for my godly mother, I, John Randolph, would 
have been an infidel" Gray, who wrote the "Elegy in a 
Country Churchyard," said he was one of a large family 
of children that had the misfortune to survive their mother. 
And I believe the ideal mother is the product of a civiliza 
tion that rose from the manger of Bethlehem,* 


I am sure there is not an angel in heaven that would 
not be glad to come to earth and be honored with mother 
hood if God would grant that privilege. What a grand 
thing it must be, at the end of your earthly career, to look 
back upon a noble and godly life, knowing you did all you 
could to help leave this old world to God, and made your 
contributions in tears and in prayers and taught your 
offspring to be God-fearing, so that when you went you 
would continue to produce your noble character in your 

I believe in blood; I believe in good blood, bad blood, 
honest blood, and thieving blood; in heroic blood and 
cowardly blood; in virtuous blood, in licentious blood, in 
drinking blood and in sober blood. The lips of the Haps- 
burgs tell of licentiousness; those of the Stuarts tell of 
cruelty, bigotry and sensuality, from Mary, queen of Scots, 
down to Charles the First and Charles the Second, James 
the First who showed the world what your fool of a Scotch 
man can be when he is a fool down to King James the 

Scotch blood stands for stubbornness. They are full 
of stick-to-it-iveness. I know, Mrs. Sunday is full-blooded 
Scotch. English blood speaks of reverence for the English. 
That is shown by the fact that England spent $50,000,000 
recently to put a crown on George's head. Danish blood 
tells of love of the sea. Welsh blood tells of religious fervor 
and zeal for God. Jewish blood tells of love of money, from 
the days of Abraham down until now. 

You may have read this story: Down in New York 
was a woman who said to her drunken son: " Let's go down 
to the police court and have the judge send you over to the 
island for a few weeks. Maybe you'll straighten up then 
and I can have some respect for you again." Down they 
went to the police court and appeared before the judge. 
He asked who would make the charge and the mother 
sprang forward with the words on her lips. Then she 
stopped short, turned to her son and throwing her arm? 


about Ms neck cried out: "I can't! I can't! He is my 
son, I love him and I can't." Then she fell at his feet 

dead. As dearly as she had loved her drunken, bloated, 
loafing son she couldn't stand in judgment 

Standing on the Rock 

If a doctor didn't know any more about Materia Medica than the average 
church member knows about the Bible, he'd be arrested for malpractice. 

A PUBLISHER remarked to me that a Billy Sunday 
campaign did not create a demand for religious books 
in general. With, rather an air of fault-finding he 
said, "You can't sell anything but Bibles to that Billy 
Sunday crowd." 

That remark is illuminating. Billy Sunday does not 
create a cult: he simply sends people back to the Bibles 
of their mothers. His converts do not become disciples 
of any particular school of interpretation: the Bible and 
the hymn book are their only armory. It cannot be gain 
said that it is better to read the Bible than to read books 
about the Bible. The work of Billy Sunday is not done with 
a convert until he has inspired that person to a love and 
loyalty for the old Book. 

Such passages as this show the uncompromising loyalty 
of Sunday to the Bible: 

"Here is a book, God's Word, that I will put up against 
all the books of all the ages. You can't improve on the 
Bible. You can take all the histories of all the nations of 
all the ages and cut out of them all that is ennobling, all 
that is inspiring, and compile that into a common book, 
but you cannot produce a work that will touch the hem of 
the garment of the Book I hold in my hand. It is said, 
' Why cannot we improve on the Bible? We have advanced 
everything else.' No, sir. 'Heaven and earth shall pass 
away, but My Word shall not/ And so this old Book, 
which is the Word of God, the Word of Jesus Christ, is the 
book I intend to preach by everywhere* The religion that 




5. And the people spake 
against God and against Moses, 
Wherefore have ye brought us 
up out of Egypt to die in the 
wilderness? for there is no bread, 
neither is there any water; 
and our soul loatheth this 
light bread. 

6. And the Lord sent fiery 
serpents among the people, and 
they bit the people; and much 
people of Israel died. 

7. Therefore the people came 
to Moses and said, We have 
sinned, for we have spoken 
against the Lord, and against 
thee; pray unto the Lord that 
he take away the serpents 
from us. And Moses prayed 
for the people. 

8. And the Lord said unto 
Moses, Make thee a fiery ser 
pent, and set it upon a pole: 
and it shall come to pass that 
every one that is bitten, when 
he looketh upon it, shall live. 

9. And Moses made a ser 
pent of brass and put it upon 
a pole and it came to pass, that 
if a serpent had bitten any 
man, when he beheld the ser 
pent of brass he lived. 


The Jews were in Egyptian 
bondage for years. God said 
he would release them, but he 
hadn't come. ^But God never 
forgets. So he came and chose 
Moses to lead them, and when 
Moses got them out in the 
wilderness they began to knock 
and said, "Who is this Moses 
anyway? We don't know Mm. 
Were there not enough graves 
in Egypt?" and they said they 
didn't like the white bread they 
were getting and wanted the 
onions and the leeks and the 
garlic and melons of Egypt, 
and they found fault. And God 
sent the serpents and was going 
to kill them all, but Moses 
interceded and said, "Now see 
here, God." But the Lord said, 
"Get out of the way, Moses, 
and let me kill them all." But 
Moses said, "Hold on there, 
Lord. That bunch would have 
the laugh on you if you did 
that. They'd say you brought 
them out here and the com 
missary stores ran out and 
you couldn't feed them, so 
you just killed them all.'* So 
God said, "All right, for your 
sake, Moses, I won't," and he 
said, "Moses, you go and set 
up a brazen serpent in the 
wilderness and that will be the 
one thing that will save them 
if they are bitten, They must 
look or die." 


has withstood the sophistry and the criticism of the ages, 
the sarcasm of Voltaire, the irony of Hume, the blasphemy 
of Ingersoll, the astronomer's telescope, the archaeologist's 
spade and the physician's scalpel they have all tried to 
prove the Bible false, but the old Book is too tough for the 
tooth of time, and she stands triumphant over the grave of 
all that have railed upon her. God Almighty is still on the 
job. Some people act as though they had sent for the 
undertaker to come to embalm God and bury him. But it 
is the truth; it is not an accident that places the Christian 
nations in the forefront of the world's battles. It is some 
thing more than race, color, climate, that causes the differ 
ence between the people that dwell on the banks of the 
Congo and those in this valley. The scale of civilization 
always ascends the line of religion; the highest civilization 
always goes hand in hand with the purest religion. 7 ' 

Rigid as he is in literal interpretation of the Bible, 
Sunday is celebrated for Ms paraphrases of favorite passages, 
a recasting of the familiar form of words into the speech of 
the day. Some of these "slang versions" of the old Book 
make one gasp; but generally the evangelist gets the 
innermost meaning of the Book itself. He is not an inter 
preter of the Bible but a popularizer of it. He does not 
expound the Scripture as much as he pounds in the Scripture. 
The Bible and its place in the life of the Christian are often 
on the Evangelist's lips. 

Here, for instance, is his interpretation of the story of 
David and Goliath: 

"All of the sons of Jesse except David went off to war; 
they left David at home because he was only a Md. After 
a while David's ma got worried. She wondered what had 
become of his brothers, because they hadn't telephoned to 
her or sent word. So she said to David, e Dave, you go down 
there and see whether they are all right.' 

"So David pikes off to where the war is, and the first 
morning he was there out comes this big Goliath, a big, 
strapping fellow about eleven feet tall, who commenced to 
shoot off Ms mouth as to what he was going to do* 


"' Who's that big stiff putting up that game of talk?' 
asked David of his brothers. 

"'Oh, he's the whole works; he's the head cheese of the 
Philistines. He does that little stunt every day/ 

"'Say/ said David, 'you guys make me sick. Why 
don't some of you go out and soak that guy? You let him 
get away with that stuff/ He decided to go out and tell 
Goliath where to head in. 

"So Saul said, ' You'd better take my armor and sword.' 
David put them on, but he felt like a fellow with a hand-me- 
down suit about four times too big for him, so he took them 
off and went down to the brook and picked up a half dozen 
stones. He put one of them in his sling, threw it, and soaked 
Goliath in the coco between the lamps, and he went down 
for the count. David drew his sword and chopped off his 
block, and the rest of the gang beat it." 


The Bible is the Word of God. Nothing has ever 'been 
more clearly established in the world today, and God 
blesses every people and nation that reverence it. It ha*5 
stood the test of time. No book has so endured through the 
ages. No book has been so hated. Everything the cunning 
of man, philosophy, brutality, could contrive has been 
done, but it has withstood them all. 

There is no book which has such a circulation today. 
Bibles are dropping from the press like the leaves in autumn. 
There are 200,000,000 copies. It is read by all nations. It 
has been translated into five hundred languages and dia 

No book ever came by luck or chance. Every book 
owes its existence to some being or beings, and within the 
range and scope of human intelligence there are but three 
things~-good,^bad, and God. All that originates in intellect, 
all which the intellect can comprehend, must come from one 
of the three. This book, the Bible, could not possibly be 
the product of evil, wicked, godless, cori^ipt, vile men, fw 


It pronounces the heaviest penalties against sin* like 
produces like, and if bad men were writing the Bible they 
never would have pronounced condemnation and punish 
ment against wrong-doing. . The holy men of old, we are 
told, "spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." Men 
do not attribute these beautiful and matchless and well- 
arranged sentences to human intelligence alone, but we are 
told that men spake as they were inspired by the Holy 
Ghost. The only being left, to whom you, or I, or any 
sensible person could ascribe the origin of the Bible, is God. 

Men have been thrown to beasts and burned to death 
for having a Bible in their possession. There have been wars 
over the Bible; cities have been destroyed. Nothing ever 
brought such persecution as the Bible. Everything vile, 
dirty, rotten and iniquitous has been brought to bear against 
it because it reveals man's cussedness. But it's here, and its 
power and influence are greater today than ever. 

Saloons, bawdy houses, gambling hells, every rake, 
every white-slaver, every panderer and everything evil has 
been against it, but it is the word of God, and millions of 
people know it. 

This being true, it is of the highest importance that you 
should think of the truths in it. Ill bet my life that there are 
hundreds of you that haven't read ten pages of the Bible in 
ten years. Some of you never open it except at a birth, a 
marriage or a death, and then just to keep your family 
records straight. That's a disgrace and an insult. I repeat it, 
it's a disgrace and an insult. Don't blame God if you wind 
up in hell, after God warned you, because you didn't take 
time to read it and think about it. 

It is the only book that tells us of a God that we can 
love, a heaven to win, a hell to shun and a Saviour that can 
save. Why did God give us the Bible? So that we might 
believe in Christ. No other book tells us this. It tells us 
why the Bible was written, that we might believe and be 
saved. You don't read a railroad guide to learn to raise 
buckwheat. You don't read a cook book to learn to shoe 


horses. You don't read an arithmetic to learn the history 
of the United States. A geography does not teU you about 
how to make buckwheat cakes. No, you read a railroad 
guide to learn about the trains, a cook book to learn to make 
buckwheat cakes, an arithmetic for arithmetic and a geogra 
phy for geography. If you want to get out of a book what 
the author put in it, find out why it was written. That's 
the way to get good out of a book. Read it. 

It was written that you might read and believe that 
Jesus is the Son of God, The Bible wasn't intended for a 
history or a cook book. It was intended to keep me from 
going to hell. 

The greatest good can be had from anything by using 
it for the purpose for which it was intended. A loaf of 
bread and a brick may look alike, but try and exchange them 
and see. You build a house with brick, but you can't eat 
it. The purpose of a time table is to give the time of trains, 
the junctions, the different railroads. A man that has been 
over the road knows more about it than a man who has 
never been over it. A man who has made the journey of 
life guided by the Bible knows more about it than any high- 
browed lobster who has never lived a word of it. Then whom 
are you going to believe, the man who has tried it or the man 
who knows nothing about it? 

The Bible was not intended for a science any more than 
a crowbar is intended for a toothpick. The Bible was written 
to tell men that they might live, and it's true today. 

One man says: "I do not believe in the Bible because 
of its inconsistencies. 1 " I say the greatest inconsistency is 
in your life not in the Bible! I bring up before you the 
memory of some evil deed, and you immediately begin to 
find fault with the Bible! Go to a man and talk business or 
politics &nd he talks sense. Go to a woman and talk society, 
clubs or dress, and she talks sense. Talk religion to them, 
and they will talk nonsense! 

I want to say that I believe that the Bible is the Word 
of God from cover to cover. Not because I understand its 


philosophy, speculation, or theory. I cannot; wouldn't 
attempt it; and I would be a fool if I tried. I believe it 
because it is from the mouth of God; the mouth of God lias 
spoken it. 

There is only one way to have the doubts destroyed. 
Read the Bible and obey it. You say you can't understand 
it. There's an A, B, C in religion, just as in everything 
else. When you go to school you learn the A, B, C's and 
pretty soon can understand something you thought you 
never could when you started out. So in religion. Begin 
with the simple things and go on and you'll understand. 
That's -what it was written for, that you might read and 
believe and be saved, I'm willing to stand here and take 
the hand of any man or woman if you are willing to come 
and begin with the knowledge you have. 

In South Africa there are diamond mines and the fact 
has been heralded to every corner of the world. But only 
those that dig for them get the diamonds. So it is with the 
Bible. Dig and you'll find gold and salvation. You have 
to dig out the truths. 

Years ago in Sing Sing prison there was a convict by 
the name of Jerry McCauley and one day an old pal of his 
came back to the prison and told Tiitn how he had been saved, 
and quoted a verse of Scripture. McCauley didn't know 
where to find the verse in the Bible, so he started in at the 
first and read through until he came to it. It was away over 
in the ninth chapter of Hebrews. But he found Jesus Christ 
while he was reading it. He lived a godly life until the day 
he died. 

Supposing a man should come to you and say, " The title 
to your property is no good and if some one contests it you 
wiU lose?" Would you laugh and go on about your business? 
No, sir! You would go to the court house and if you could 
find it in only one book there, the book in the recorder's 
office, you'd search and find it, and if the recorder said 
the deed was all right you could laugh at whatever any one 
else said* 


There is only one book in the world that tells me about 
my soul It says if you believe you're saved, if you don't 
you are damned, God said it and it's aU true. Every man 

who believes in the Bible shall live forever. The Bible says 
heaven or hell, so why do you resist? 

No words are put in the Bible for effect. The Bible 
talks to us so we can understand. God could use language 

that no one could understand. But we can not understand 
all by simply hearing and reading. When we see we will 


"I stood one day beside a blacksmith's door, 

And heard the anvil beat and the bellows chime; 
Looking in, I saw upon the floor 
Old hammers worn out with beating years and years of time. 

"'How many anvils have you had?' said I, 

'To wear and batter all these hammers so? ; 
'Just one/ said he, then said with twinkling eye, 
'The anvil wears the hammers out, you know.' 

"So methought, the anvils of God's word 

Of Jesus' sacrifice have been beat upon 
The noise of falling blows was heard 
^ The anvil is unharmed the hammers are all gone." 

Julian the apostate was a hammer. Gone! Voltaire, 
Renan, hammers. Gone! In Germany, Goethe, Strauss, 
Schleiermacher gone. In England, Mill, Hume, Hobbes, 
Darwin, Huxley and Spencer the anvil remains; the 
hammer is gone. In America, Thomas Paine, Parker, 
Ingersoll, gone* The anvil remains. 

Listen. In France a hundred years ago or more they 
were printing and circulating infidel literature at the expense 
of $4,500,000 a year. What was the result? God was denied, 
the Bible sneered at and ridiculed, and between 1792 and 
1795 one million twenty thousand and fifty-one hundred 
people were brought to death. The Word of God stood 
unshaken amidst it all. Josh Billings said: "I would rather 


be an idiot than an infidel; because if I am an infidel I made 
myself so, but if I am an idiot somebody else did it." Oh, 
the wreckers' lights on the dangerous coasts that try to 
allure and drag us away from God have all gone out, but 
God's words shine on. 

The vital truths of the Bible are more believed in the 
world today than at any other time. When a man becomes 
so intelligent that he can not accept the Bible, too progressive 
to be a Christian, that man's influence for good, in society, 
in business or as a companion, is at an end. Some think that 
being a doubter is an evidence of superior intellect. No! 

I've never found a dozen men in my life who disbelieved 
in the Bible but what they were hugging some secret sin. 
When you are willing to give up that pet sin you wiH find it 
easy to believe in the Bible. 

It explains to me why Saul of Tarsus, the murderer, 
was changed to Paul, the apostle. It explains to me why 
David Livingstone left his Highland home to go to darkest 
Africa. It explains to me why the Earl of Shaftesbury was 
made from a drunkard into a power for God in London for 
sixty-five years. It explains why missionaries leave home 
and friends to go into unknown lands and preach JesusChrist^ 
and perhaps to die at the hands of the natives. 

I can see in this book God revealed to man and when I 
do and accept, I am satisfied. It is just what you need to be 
satisfied. God knows your every need. 

This explains to me why Jesus Christ has such influence 
on men and women in the world today. No man ever had 
such influence to teach men and women virtue and goodness 
as Christ. This influence has been in the world from 2,000 
years ago to the present time. The human heart is to Jesus 
like a great piano. First he plays the sad melodies of repent 
ance and then the joyful hallelujahs. 

The Bible has promises running all through it and God 

wants you to appropriate them for your use. They are 

like a bank note. They are of no value unless used. You 

might starve to death if you have money in your pockets, 



but won't use it. So the promises may not do you any good 
because you will not use them. The Bible is a galaxy of 
promises like the Milky Way in the heavens. 

When you are in trouble, instead of going to your Bible> 
you let them grow, and they grow faster than Jonah's gourd 
vine. You're afraid to step out on the promises. 

There are many exceedingly great and precious promises 
in the Bible. Here is one: 

"Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, 
that the Father may be glorified in the Son." 

If some of you would receive such a promise from John 
D. Rockefeller or Andrew Carnegie, you'd sit up all night 
writing out checks to be cashed in the morning. And yet 
you let the Bible lie on the table. 

But the infidel says: "Mr. Sunday, why are there so 
many intelligent people in the world that don't believe the 

Do you wonder that it was an infidel who started the 
question: "Is life worth living?" Do you wonder that it 
was some fool woman, an infidel woman, that first started 
the question : " Is marriage a failure? " A fool, infidel woman. 
Christians do not ask such fool questions. Would you "be ' 
surprised to be reminded that infidel writers and speakers 
have always and do always advocate and condone and ex 
cuse suicide? Do you know that in infidelity the gospel is 
suicide? That is their theory and I don't blame them, and 
the sooner they leave the world the better the world will be. 

The great men of the ages are on the side of the Bible. 
A good many infidels talk as though the great minds of the 
world were arrayed against Christianity and the Bible. 
Great statesmen, inventors, painters, poets, artists, 
musicians, have lifted up their hearts in prayer. Watt, 
the inventor of the steam engine, was a Christian; Fulton, 
the inventor of the steamboat, was a Christian; Cyrus 
McComick, who first invented the self-binder, was a 
Christian; Morse, who invented the telegraph, and the first 
message that ever flashed over the wire was from Deuteron- 


omy 'What hath. God wrought*. Edison, although a 
doubter in some things, said that there was evidence enough 
in chemistry to prove the existence of a God, if there was no 
evidence besides that. George Washington was a Christian. 
Abraham Lincoln was a Christian, and with Bishop Simpson 
knelt on his knees in the White House, praying God to give 
victory to the Army of the Blue. John Hay, the brightest 
Secretary of State that ever managed the affairs of state, in 
my judgment, was a Christian. William Jennings Bryan, 
a man as clean as a hound's tooth; Garfield, McKinley, 
Grover Cleveland, Harrison, Theodore Roosevelt, Wood- 
row Wilson all Christians. 

The poets drew their inspiration from the Bible. Dante's 
"Inferno," Milton's "Paradise Lost," two of the greatest 
works ever written, were inspired by the Word of God. Lord 
Byron, although a profligate, drew his inspiration from the 
Word of God. Shakespeare's works abound with quotations 
from the Bible. John G. Whittier, Longfellow, Michael 
Angelo, who painted "The Last Judgment," Raphael, who 
painted the "Madonna of the Chair," Da Vinci, who painted 
"The Last Supper," all dipped their brushes in the light of 
heaven and painted for eternity. The great men of the 
world of all ages, of science, art, or statesmanship, have all 
believed in Jesus Christ as the Son of God. 

Twenty-seven years ago, with the Holy Spirit for my 
guide, I entered this wonderful temple that we call Christian 
ity. I entered through the portico of Genesis and walked 
down through the Old Testament's art gallery, where I saw 
the portraits of Joseph, Jacob, Daniel, Moses, Isaiah, Sol 
omon and David hanging on the wall; I entered the music 
room of the Psalms and the Spirit of God struck the key 
board of my nature until it seemed to me that every reed 
and pipe in God's great organ of nature responded to the 
harp of David, and the charm of King Solomon in his 

I walked into the business house of Proverbs. 

I walked into the observatory of the prophets and 


there saw photographs of various sizes, some pointing to 
far-off stars or events all concentrated upon one great 
Star which was to rise as an atonement for sin. 

Then I went into the audience room of the King of 
Kings, and got a vision from four different points from Mat 
thew, Mark, Luke and John. I went into the correspondence 
room, and saw Peter, James, Paul and Jude, penning their 
epistles to the world. I went into the Acts of the Apostles 
and saw the Holy Spirit forming the Holy Church, and then 
I walked into the throne room and saw a door at the foot of 
a tower and, going up, I saw One standing there, fair as the 
morning, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and I found this 
truest friend that man ever knew; when all were false I 
found Mm true. 

In teaching me the way of life, the Bible has taught 
me the way to live, it taught me how to die. 

So that is why I am here, sober and a Christian, instead 
of a booze-hoisting infidel. 

Making a Joyful Noise 

Don't look as if your religion hurt you. BILLY SUNDAY. 

6 ^ T T-^ kath P u * a new son ^ m y mou b-" That is 

I I real religion which sets the saints to singing. 

A M. Qi oojn y Christians are a poor advertisement of 

the Gospel. There is nothing of gloom about a Billy Sun 

day revival. 

Shrewd students of the campaigns have often remarked 
that there are so few tears and so much laughter at the 
evangelist's services. There is scarcely one of Sunday's 
sermons in which he does not make the congregation laugh. 
All of his work is attuned to the note of vitality, robustness 
and happiness. Concerning the long-faced Christian Sim- 
day says: 

"Some people couldn't have faces any longer if they 
thought God was dead. They ought to pray to stop look 
ing so sour. If they smile it looks like it hurts them, and 
you're always glad when they stop smiling. If Paul and 
Silas had had such long faces as some church members have 
on them when they went into the PMlippian jail, the jailer 
would never have been saved. There never was a greater 
mistake than to suppose that God wants you to be long- 
faced when you put on your good clothes. You'd better 
not fast at all if you give the devil all the benefit. God 
wants people to be happy. 

"The matter with a lot of you people is that your 
religion is not complete. You have not yielded yourself 
to God and gone out for God and God's truth. Why, I 
am almost afraid to make some folks laugh for fear that I 
will be arrested for breaking a costly piece of antique bric-a- 
brac. You would think that if some people laughed it 
would break their faces. I want to tell you that the 



happy, smiling, sunny-faced religion will win more people 
to Jesus Christ than the miserable old grimfaced kind 

will in ten years. I pity any one who can't laugh. 
There must be something wrong with their religion or. 
their liver. The devil can't laugh* 

" { Oh, laugh and the world laughs with you, 

Weep and you weep alone; 
7 Tis easy enough to be pleasant 

When life moves along like a song; 
But the man worth while is the man who can smile 

When everything goes dead wrong/ 

" Don't look as if religion hurt you. Don't look as if 
you had on a number two shoe when you ought to be wear 
ing a number five. I see some women who look as if they 
had the toothache. That won't win anyone for Christ. 
Look pleasant. Look as if religion made you happy, when 
you had it. 

"Then there is music. When you get to heaven you'll 
find that not all have been preached there. They have been 
sung there. God pity us when music is not for the glory of 
God. Some of you will sing for money and for honor, but 
you won't sing in the church. Much of the church music 
today is all poppycock and nonsense. Some of these high- 
priced sopranos get up in church and do a little diaphragm 
wiggle and make a noise like a horse neighing. I don't 
wonder the people in the congregation have a hard time 
of it." 

^oSunday sets the city^to singing. His sermons are 
frameolir^ a performance by 

some soloist, but music that ministers to his message. 
His gospel is sung as well as preached. The^singytig is as 
essential a part of the service ,as tiie sermon. Everybody 
likes good music, especially of a popular sort. Sunday sees 
that this taste is gratified. 

The Tabernacle music in itself is enough to draw the 
great throngs which nightly crowd the building. The choir 



furnishes not only the melodies but also a rare spectacle. 
This splendid regiment of helpers seated back of the speaker 
affects both the eyes and the ears of the audiences. Without 
his choirs Sunday could scarcely conduct his great campaigns. 
These helpers are all volunteers, and their steadfast loyalty 
throughout weeks of strenuous meetings in all kinds of 
weather is a Christian 
service of the first 

True, member 
ship in a Sunday 
choir is in itself an 
avocation, a social 
and religious interest 
that enriches the 
lives of the choir 
members. They 
" belong 37 to some 
thing big and popular. 
They have new themes 
for conversation. 
New acquaintances 
are made. The asso 
ciations first formed 
in the Sunday choir 
have in many cases 
continued as the 
most sacred relations 
of life. The bright 
est spot in the monotony of many a young person's life has 
been his or her membership in the Billy Sunday choir. 

The choir also has the advantage of a musical drill and 
experience which could be secured in, no other fashion. All 
the advantages of trained leadership are given in return for 
the volunteer service. Incidentally, the choir members 
know that they are serving their churches and their com 
munities in a deep and far-reaching fashion. 



Many visitors to the Sunday Tabernacle are surprised 
to find that the music is of such fine quality. There is less 
" religious rag-time" than is commonly associated with the 
idea of revival meetings. More than a fair half of the 
music sung is that which holds an established place in the 
hymnody of all churches. 

There is more to the music of a campaign than the 
volume of singing by the choir, with an occasional solo by 
the chorister or some chosen person. A variety of ingenious 
devices are employed to heighten the impression of the music. 
Thus a common antiphonal effect is obtained by having 
the choir sing one line of a hymn and the last ten rows of 
persons in the rear of the Tabernacle sing the answering line. 
The old hymn "For You I am Praying" is used with 
electrical effect in this fashion. Part singing is employed 
in ways that are possible only to such a large chorus as the 
musical director of the Sunday campaigns has at his com 

A genius for mutuality characterizes the Sunday song 
services. The audiences are given a share in the music. 
Not only are they requested to join in the singing, but they 
are permitted to choose their favorite hymns, and frequently 
the choir is called upon to listen while the audience sings. 

Various delegations are permitted to sing hymns of 
their own choice. Diversity, and variety and vim seem to be 
the objective of the musical part of the program. From 
half an hour to an hour of this varied music introduces each 
service. When the evangelist himself is ready to preach, 
the crowd has been worked up into a glow and fervor that 
make it receptive to his message. 

If some stickler for ritual and stateliness objects 
that these services are entirely too informal, and too much 
like a political campaign, the partisan of Mr. Sunday will 
heartily assent. These are great American crowds in their 
every-day humor. These evangelistic meetings are not 
regular church services. It has already been made plain 
that there is no "dim religious light" about the Sunday 
Tabernacle meetings. 


It Is a tribute to the comprehensiveness of the Sunday 
method that they bring together the most representative 
gatherings imaginable every day under the unadorned 
rafters of the big wooden shell called the Tabernacle. 
Shrewdly, the evangelist has made sure of the democratic 
quality of his congregation. He has succeeded in having 
the gospel sing its way into the affection and interest of 
every-day folk. 

It is no valid objection to the Sunday music that it is 
so thoroughly entertaining. The Tabernacle crowds sing, 
not as a rejjgiQus ..duty, but for the sheer joy of singing. 
Orie~5f "tEe commonest remarks heard amid the crowtTIs r T 
never expect to hear such singing again till I get to Heaven. " 
It is real Christian ministry to put the melodies of the 
Gospel into the memories of the multitudes, and to brighten 
with the songs of salvation the gray days of the burden- 
bearers of the world. Boys and men on the street whistle 
Gospel songs. The echoes of Tabernacle music may be 
heard long after Mr. Sunday has gone from a community 
in ten thousand Mtchens and in the shops and factories and 
stores of the community. This is the strategy of "the expul 
sive power of a new affection." These meetings give to 
Christians a new and jubilant affirmation, instead of a mere 
defense for their faith. The campaign music carries the 
campaign message farther than the voice of any man could 
ever penetrate. 

Upon the place of music" in the Christian life Sunday 
says:"For sixteen years therehad been nosongs in Jerusalem. 
It must have been a great loss to the Jews, for everywhere 
we read we find them singing. They sang all the way to the 
Red Sea, they sang when Jesus was born, they sang at the 
Last Supper and when Jesus was arisen. 

"Song has always been inseparably associated with the 
advancement of God's word. Youll find when religion 
is at low ebb the song will cease. Many of the great revivals 
have been almost entirely song. The great Welsh revival 
was mostly song. In the movements of Martin Luther, 


Wesley, Moody and Torrey you will find abundance of 
song. When a church congregation gets at such low ebb 
that they can't sing and have to hire a professional choir 
to sing for them, they haven't got much religion. And 
some of those choir members are so stuck up they won't sing 
in a chorus. If I had a bunch like that they'd quit or I 

"Take the twenty-fourth Psalm, 'Lift up your heads, 

ye gates/ and the thirty-third Psalm. They were written 
by David to be sung in the temple. 

"I can imagine his singing them now. They were 
David's own experiences. Look at them. Now you hear 
an old lobster get up to give an experience, ' Forty years ago 

1 started forth / The same old stereotyped form. 

"There's many a life today which has no song. The 
most popular song for most of you would be, 

" 'Where is that joy wMcIi once I kneWj 
Wien first I loved the Lord?' 9 ' 

Right behind you where you left it when you went to that 
card party; right where you left it when you began to go to 
the theater; right where you left it when you side-stepped 
and backslid; right where you left it when you began paying 
one hundred dollars for a dress and gave twenty-five cents to 
the Lord; right where you left it when you began to gossip. " 

The Prophet and His Own Time 

There wouldn't be so many non-church goers if there were not so many 

non-going churches. BILLY SUNDAY. 

A PROPHET to Ms own generation is Billy Sunday. 
In the speech of today he arraigns the sins of today 
and seeks to satisfy the needs of today. A man 
singularly free and fearless, he applies the Gospel to the 
conditions of the present moment. Knowing life on various 
levels, he preaches with a definiteness and an appropriate 
ness that echo the prophet Nathan's ' i Thou art the man." 
By the very structure of Billy Sunday's mentality it is 
made difficult for biin to be abstract. He has to deal 
definitely with concrete sins. 

Now a pastor would find it difficult to approach, in 
the ruthless and reckless fashion of Billy Sunday, the short 
comings of his members and neighbors. He has to live with 
Ms congregation, year in and year out; but the evangelist 
is as irresponsible as John the Baptist on the banks of the 
Jordan. He has no affiliations to consider and no conse 
quences to fear, except the Kingdom's welfare. His only 
concern igjfor the truth and applicability of his message. 
He is "perfec^^lS^^^aHout offending hearers. Those 
well-meaning persons who would compare Billy Sunday with 
the average pastor should bear this in mind. 

A rare gift of satire and scorn and invective and ridicule 
has been given to Sunday. He has been equipped with 
powerful weapons which are too often missing from the 
armory of the average Gospel soldier. His aptitude for 
puncturing sham is almost without a peer in contemporary 
life. Few orators in any field have his art of heaping up 
adjectives to a towering height that overwhelms their 


Nor does the Church escape Sunday's plain dealing. 
He treats vigorously her shortcomings and her imperfec 
tions. Usually, the persons who hear the first half dozen 
or dozen sermons in one of his campaigns are shocked by 
the reckless way in which the evangelist handles the Church 
and church members. 

Others, forewarned, perceive the psychology of it. 
It is clear that in Sunday's thinking the purity of the Church 
is all-important. Complacency with any degree of corrup 
tion or inefficiency on her part he would regard as sin. 
So he unsparingly belabors the Church and her ministry 
for all the good that they have left undone and all amiss 
that they have done. 

The net result of this is that the evangelist leaves on 
the minds of the multitudes, to whom the Church has been 
a negligible quantity, a tremendous impression of her pre 
eminent importance. It is true that sometimes, after a Sun 
day campaign, a few ministers have to leave their churches, 
because of the new spirit of efficiency and spirituality which 
he has imparted. They have simply been unable to measure 
up to the new opportunity. On the whole, however, it is 
clear that he imparts a new sense of dignity and a new field 
of leadership to the ministers of the Gospel in the com 
munities he has served. Testimony on this point seems to 
be conclusive. 

Given prophets of today, with the conviction that both 
Church and social life should square with the teaching of 
Jesus Christ, and you have revolutionary possibilities for 
any community. Fair samples of Sunday's treatment of 
the Church and of society are these: 

" There is but one voice from the faithful preacher 
about the Church that is she is sick. But we say it in such 
painless, delicate terms; we work with such tender massage, 
that she seems to enjoy her invalidisrn. I'm coming with 
my scalpel to cut into the old sores and ulcers and drive 
them out. I feel the pulse and say it's pus temperature. 
The temperature's high. I'm trying to remove from the 


Church, the putrefying abscess which is boring into its vitals. 
About four out of every five who have their names on our 
church records are doing absolutely nothing to bring any 
body to Christ and the Church is not a whit better for their 
having lived in it. Christians are making a great deal of 
Lent. I believe in Lent. Ill tell you what kind, though. 
I believe in a Lent that is kept 365 days in the year for Jesus 
Christ. That is the kind I like to see. Some people will go 
to hell sure if they die out of the Lenten season. I hate to 
see a man get enough religion in forty days to last him and 
then live like the devil the rest of the year. If you can 
reform for forty days you can reform for the year. 

"The Jewish Church ran up against this snag and was 
wrecked. The Roman Catholic Church ran up against it 
and split. All of the churches today are fast approaching 
the same doom. 

"The dangers to the Church, as I see them, are assimila 
tion with the world, the neglect of the poor, substitution 
of forms for godliness; and all summed up meana fashionable 
church with religion left out. Formerly Methodists used 
to attend class meetings. Now these are abandoned in 
many churches. Formerly shouts of praise were heard. 
Now such holy demonstration is considered undignified. 
Once in a while some good, godly sister forgets herself and 
pipes out in a falsetto, apologetic sort of a key: 'Amen, 
Brother Sunday/ I don't expect any of those ossified, petri 
fied, dyed-in-the-wool, stamped-on-the-cork Presbyterians 
or Episcopalians to shout, e Amen/ but it would do you good 
and loosen you up. It won't hurt you a bit. You are hide 
bound. I think about half the professing Christians amount 
to nothing as a spiritual force. They have a kind regard for 
religion, but as for evangelical service, as for a cheerful 
spirit of self-denial, as for prevailing prayer, willingness to 
strike hard blows against the devil, they are almost a failure. 
I read the other day of a shell which had been invented 
which is hurled on a ship and when it explodes it puts all on 
board asleep. I sometimes think one of these shells has hit 
the Church. 


"What are some people going to do aboutthe Judgment? 
Some are just in life for the money they get out of it. They 

will tell you north is south if they think they can get a 
dollar by it. They float get-rich-quick schemes and any 
thing for money. I haven't a word to say about a man who 
has earned his money honestly, uses it to provide for his 
family and spends the surplus for good. You know there is a 
bunch of mutts that sit around on stools and whittle and spit 
and cuss and damn and say that every man who has an 
honest dollar ought to divide it with them, while others get 
out and get busy and work and sweat and toil and prepare 
to leave something for their wives and families when they 
die, and spend the rest for good. 

"Old Commodore Vanderbilt had a fortune of over 
$200,000,000, and one day when he was ill he sent for Dr. 
Deems. He asked him to sing for him that old song: 

'Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, 
j ye wounded, sick and sore.' 

The old commodore tossed from side to side, looked around 
at the evidence of his wealth, and he said: 'That's what 
I am, poor and needy/ Who? Commodore Vanderbilt 
poor and needy with his $200,000,000? The foundation 

of that fabulous fortune was laid by him when he poled a 
yawl from New York to Staten Island and picked up pennies 
for doing it. The foundation of the immense Astor fortune 
was laid by John Jacob Astor when he went out and bought 
fur and hides from trappers and put the money in New York 
real estate. The next day in the street one man said to 
another: * Have you heard the news? Commodore Vander 
bilt is dead/ ' How much did he leave? 5 ' He left it all/ 

"Naked you came into this world, and naked you will 
crawl out of it. You brought nothing into the world and you 
will take nothing out, and if you have put the pack screws 
on the poor and piled up a pile of gold as big as a house 
you can't take it with you. It wouldn't do you any good if 
you could, because it would melt/' 

Those Billy Sunday Prayers 

I never preach a sermon until I have soaked It in prayer. BILLY 

CONCERNING the prayers of Sunday there is little 
to be said except to quote samples of them and let 
the reader judge for himself. 

That they are unconventional no one will deny; many 
have gone farther and have said that they are almost 
sacrilegious. The charge has often been made that the 
evangelist addresses his prayers to the crowd instead of to 
God. No one criticism has oftener been made of Mr. Sun 
day by sensitive and thoughtful ministers of the Gospel, 
than that his public prayers seem to be lacking in funda 
mental reverence. 

The defender of Sunday rejoins, "He talks to 
Jesus as familiarly as he talks to one of his associates." 
Really, though, there is deep difference. His fellow-workers 
are only fellow-workers, but of the Lord, "Holy and 
reverend is his name." Many of the warmest admirers of 
the evangelist do not attempt to defend all of his prayers. 

Probably Sunday does not know that in all the 
Oriental, and some European, languages there is a special 
form of speech reserved for royalty; and that it would be 
an affront to address a king by the same term as the com 
moner. The outward signs of this mental attitude of 
reverence in prayer are unquestionably lacking in Sunday. 

His usual procedure is to begin to pray at the end of 
a sermon, without any interval or any prefatory remarks, 
such as "Let us pray." For an instant, the crowd does 
not realize that he is praying. He closes Ms eyes and says, 
"Now Jesus, you know," and so forth, just as he would say 
to the chorister, "Rody, what is the name of that delega- 



tion? ?? Indeed, I have heard him interject just this inquiry 
into a prayer. Or he will mention "that Bible class over to 
my right, near the platform." He will use the same 
colloquial figures of speech in a prayer base-ball phrases, 
for instance that he does in his sermons. Sometimes it is 
really difficult to tell whether he is addressing the Lord or 
the audience. 

More direct familiar, childish petitions were never 
addressed to the Deity than are heard at the Sunday meet 
ings. They run so counter to all religious conceptions of a 
reverential approach to the throne of grace that one mar 
vels at the charity of the ministers in letting him go unre- 
buked. But they say "It's Billy/' and so it is. That is 
the way the man prays in private, for I have heard him 
in his own room, before starting out to preach; and in 
entirely the same intimate, unconventional fashion he asks 
the help of Jesus in his preaching and in the meetings. 
But to the prayers themselves: 

a Q,,God ; help this old world. May the men who have 
been drunkards be made~ better; may the men who beat 
their wives and curse their children come to Jesus; may 
the children who have feared to hear the footsteps of their 
father, rejoice again when they see the parent coming up 
the steps of the home. Bring the Church up to help the 
work. Bless them, Lord. Bless the preachers: bless the 
officials of the Church and bless everyone in them. Save 
the men in the mines. Save the poor breaker boys as they 
toil day by day in dangers; save them for their mothers 
and fathers and bring them to Jesus. Bless the policemen, 
the newspapermen and the men, women and children; the 
men and girls from the plants, factories, stores and streets. 
Go into the stores every morning and have prayer meetings 
so that the clerks may hear the Word of God before they 
get behind the counters and sell goods to the trade. 

"Visit this city, Lord, its schools and scholars, and 
bless the school board. Bless the city officials. Go down 


into the city hail and bless the mayor, directors and all the 
rest. We thank thee that the storm has passed. We 
believe that we will learn a lesson of how helpless we are 
before thee. How chesty we are when the sun shines and 
the day is clear, but, oh! how helpless when the breath of 
God comes and the snowflakes start to fall; when the floods 
come we get on our knees and wring our hands and ask 
mercy from thee. Oh, help us, O Lord. 

"When the people get to hell I hope that nobody will 
ever go there and I am trying my best to save them they 
will know that they are there because they lived against 
God. I am not here to injure them; I am not here to wreck 
homes; I am here to tell them of the blessing you send down 
when they are with you. We pray for the thousands and 
thousands that will be saved." 

"Thank you, Jesus. I came to you twenty-seven years 
ago for salvation and I got salvation. Thank the Lord I 
can look in the face of every man and woman of God every 
where and say that for all those years I have lived in 
salvation. Not that I take any credit to myself for that; 
it was nothing inherent in me; it was the power of God that 
saved me and kept me. 

"Q Lord, sweep over this, town and save the business 
men 'of "this 'coMrnanr^r, the young men and women. 
God, save us all from the cesspools of hell and corruption. 
Help me, Lord, as I hurl consternation into the ranks of 
that miserable, God-forsaken crew who are feeding, fattening 
and gormandizing on the people! Get everybody interested 
in honesty and decency and sobriety and make them fight 
to the last ditch for God. There are too many cowards, 
four-flushers in the Church." 

"Q Jesus, we thank God that you came into this old 
world to save sinners. Keep us, Lord. Hear us, God, 
ere we stumble on in darkness. Lead the hundreds here to 
thy throne. Help the professing Christians who have not 



done as they should in the past, to come down this trail 
and take a more determined stand for thee. Help the official 
boards, the trustees of our churches, to show the way to 
hundreds by themselves confessing sin. Help them to say, 
'0 Lord, I haven't been square with thee. It is possible 
for me to improve my business and I can certainly improve 
my service to thee. I know and I believe in God and I 
believe in hell and heaven/ Lead them down the trail, 

"0 Lord, there are a lot of people who step up to the 
collection plate at church and fan. And Lord, there are 
always people sitting in the grandstand and calling the 
batter a mutt. He can't hit a thing or he can't get it over 
the base, or he's an ice wagon on the bases, they say. 
Lord, give us some coachers out at this Tabernacle so that 
people can be brought home to you. Some of them are dying 
on second and third base, Lord, and we don't want that. 
Lord, have the people play the game of life right up to the 
limit so that home runs may be scored. There are some 
people, Lord, who say, ' Yes, I have heard Billy at the Taber 
nacle and oh, it is so disgusting: really it's awful the way he 
talks.' Lord, if there weren't some grouches and the like 
in the city I'd be lost. We had a grand meeting last night, 
Lord, when the crowd come down from Dicksonville (or 
what was that place, Rody?), Dickson City, Lord, that's 
right. It was a great crowd. There's an undercurrent of 
religion sweeping through here, Lord, and we are getting 
along fine. 

"There are some dandy folks in Scranton, lots of good 
men and women that are with us in this campaign, and Lord, 
we want you to help make this a wonderful campaign. It 
has been wonderful so far. Lord, it's great to see them pour 
ing in here night after night. God, you have the people 
of the homes tell their maids to go to the meeting at the 
Y. W. C. A. Thursday afternoon, and God, let us have a 
crowd of the children here Saturday. Rody is going to talk 


to them, Lord. He can't preach and I can't sing, but the 
cMldren will have a big time with him, Lord. Lord, I won't 
try to stop people from roasting and scoring me. I would 
not know what to do if I didn't get some cracks from people 
now and then." 

"Well, Jesus, I don ? t know how to talk as I would like 
to talk. I am at a loss as to just what to say tonight. Father, 
if you hadn't provided salvation, we'd all be pretty badly 
off. Knowing the kind of life" I live and the kind of lives 
other people live, I know you are very patient and kind, but 
if you can do for men and women what you did for me, I 
wish it would happen. I wouldn't dare stand up and say 
that I didn't believe in you. I'd be afraid you'd knock me 
in the head. I'd be afraid you'd paralyze me or take away 
my mind. I'm afraid you'd do that. There are hundreds 
here tonight who don't know you as their Saviour. The 
Bible class believes you are Jesus of Nazareth, but they 
don't know you as their personal Saviour. And these 
other delegations, Lord, help them all to come down. Well, 
well, well, it's wonderful 1 find no fault in Htm.' Amen." 

"Oh, devil, why do you hit us when we are down? 
Old boy, I know that you have no time for me and I guess 
you have about learned that I have no time for you. I will 
never apologize to you for anything I have done against you. 
If I have ever said anything that Hoes not hurt you, tell me 
about it and I will take it out of my sermon." 

"We thank thee, Jesus, for that manifestation of thy 
power in one of the big factories of the city. Lord, we are 
told that of eighty men who used to go to a saloon for their 
lunch seventy-nine go there no more. All these men heard 
the ( booze 1 sermon. Lord, they are working on the one 
man who is standing out and they'll get him, too. The 
saloon-keeper is standing with arms akimbo behind the bar* 
but his old customers give the place the go-by. Thank 
you, Jesus." 


"Well, Jesus, I've been back in Capernaum tonight. 
I've been with you when you cast the devil out of that man. 
They all said, ' We know you're helping us, but you're hurting 
the hog business. ' I've been with you when you got in the 

boat. And Jesus arose and said to the sea : i Peace, be still. ' 
"Ah, look at her. Bless her heart. There comes that 

poor, crying woman. 

"Say, Jesus, here are men who have been drunkards. 

They have been in our prayers. They have been in our 

sermons. If I could just touch Him. He's here." 

"Well, thank you, Lord. It's all true. I expect 
this sermon has caused many men and women to look into 
their hearts. Perhaps they are powerless, helpless for the 
Church. O God, what it will mean to people in the cause of 
Christ all over this city! We appreciate their kind words, 
but we wish they would do more. 

"0 God, may some deacons, elders, vestrymen, come 
out for God this afternoon. May they come down these 
aisles and publicly acknowledge themselves for God. Help 
them, then, we pray, for Jesus' sake. Amen." 

"Now, Lord, I'm not here to have a good time. I am 
here to show what you are doing for these people and to tell 
them that you are willing to save them and to bear their 
burdens if they will give their hearts to you." 

"Well, Jesus, I'm not up in heaven yet. I don't want 
to go, not yet. I know it's an awful pretty place, Lord. I 
know you'll look after me when I get there. But, Jesus, I'd 
like to stay here a long time yet. I don't want to leave Nell 
and the children. I like the little bungalow we have out at 
the lake. I know you'll have a prettier one up there. If 
you'll let me, Jesus, I'd like to stay here, and I'll work 
harder for you if I can. I know I'll go there, Jesus, and I 
know there's lots of men and women here in this Tabernacle 
tonight who won't go. 


" Solomon found it was all vanity and vexation of 
spirit. They're living that way today, Jesus. I say that 
to you here tonight, banker; to you, Commercial Club; to 
you, men from the stockyards. If you want to live right, 
choose Jesus as your Saviour, for man's highest happiness 
is his obedience to Jesus Christ. And now, while we're all 
still, who'll come down and say Tm looking above the 
world?' Solomon said it was all vanity. Why certainly, 
you poor fool. He knew. But I'm glad you saw the light, 
Solomon, and spread out your wings." 

"Q Lord, bend over the battlements of glory and 
hear the cry of old Pittsburgh. O Lord, do you hear us? 
Lord, save tens of thousands of souls in this old city. Lord, 
everybody is helping. Lord, they are keeping their churches 
closed so tight that a burglar couldn't get in with a jimmy. 
Lord, the angels will shout to glory and the old devil wiH 
say, ' What did they shut up the churches of Pittsburgh for, 
when they have so many good preachers, and build a Taber 
nacle and bring a man on here to take the people away from 
me? Lord, we'll win this whisky-soaked, vice-ridden old 
city of Pittsburgh and lay it at your feet and purify it until 
it is like paraffine." 

Sunday's sermon on prayer is entitled, 


We live and develop physically by exercise. We are 
saved by faith, but we must work out our salvation by doing 
the things God wills. The more we do for God, the more 
God will do through us. Faith will increase by experience. 

If you are a stranger to prayer you are a stranger to the 
greatest source of power known to human beings. If we 
cared for our physical life in the same lackadaisical way that 
we care for our spiritual, we would be as weak physically 
as we are spiritually. You go week in and week out without 
prayer. I want to be a giant for God. You don't even sing; 


you let the choir do it. You go to prayer-meeting and offer 
no testimony. 

You are a stranger to the great privilege that is offered 
to human beings. Some of the greatest blessings that 
people enjoy come from prayer. In earnest prayer you think 
as the Lord directs, and lose yourself in him. 

Some people say: "It's no use to pray. The Lord 
knows everything, anyway." That's true. He does. He 
is not limited, as I am limited. He knows everything and 
has known it since before the world was. We don't know 
everybody who is going to be converted at this revival, but 
that doesn't relieve us of our duty. We don't know, and we 
must do the work he has commanded us to do. 

Others say: "But I don't get what I pray for." WeU, 
there's a cause for everything. Get at the cause and you'll 
be all right. If you are sick and send for the doctor, he pays 
no attention to the disease, but looks at what produced it. 
If you have a headache, don't rub your forehead. In Mat 
thew it is written, "Ask and it shall be given you ; seek and ye 
shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you." If your 
prayers are not answered you are not right with God. If 
you have no faith, if your motive is wrong, then your prayers 
will be in vain. Many times when people pray they are 
selfish. They are not gripping the word. I believe that 
when many a wife prays for the conversion of her husband 
it isn't because she really desires the salvation of his soul, 
but because she thinks if he were converted things would be 
easier for her personally. Pray for your neighbors as well 
as your own family. The pastor of one church does not 
pray for the congregation of another denomination. I'm 
not saying anything against denominations. I believe in 
them. I believe they are of God. Denominations represent 
different temperaments. A man with warm emotions 
would not make a good Episcopalian, but he would make a 
crackerjack Methodist. Oh, the curse of selfishness! The 
Church is dying for religion, for religion pure and undefiled. 
Pure religion and undefiled is visiting the widow and the 


fatherless and doing the will of God without so much thought 
of yourself. I tell you, a lot of people are going to be fooled 
the Day of Judgment. 

Isaiah says the hand of God is not shortened and his 
ear is not deaf. No, Ms hand is not shortened so that it 
cannot save. He has provided agencies by which we can 
be saved. If he had made no provision for your salvation, 
then the trouble would be with God; but he has, so if you go 
to hell the trouble will be with you. 

In Ezekiel we read that men have taken idols into their 
liearts and put stumbling-blocks before their faces. God 
is not going to hear you if you place clothes, money, pride 
of relationship before him. You know there is sin in your 
life. Many people know there is sin in their lives, yet ask 
God to bless them. They ought first to get down on their 
knees and pray, "Go^^jpiCT^ul^to me^a sinner.' } 

Some people are too contemptibly stingy for God to 
hear them. God won't hear you if you stop your ears to 
the cries of the poor. You drag along here for three weeks 
and raise a paltry sum that a circus would take out of town 
in two hours. When they give things to the poor they rip 
off the buttons and the fine braid. Some people pick out 
old clothes that the moths have made into sieves and give 
them to the poor and think they are charitable. That 
isn't charity, no sir; it's charity when you'll give something 
you'll miss. It's charity when you feel it to give. 

And when you stand praying, forgive if you have aught 
against anyone. It's no use to pray if you have a mean, 
miserable disposition, if you are grouchy, if you quarrel in 
your home or with your neighbors. 

It's no use to pray for a blessing when you have a fuss 
on with your neighbors. It doesn't do you any good. 
You go to a sewing society meeting to make mosquito netting 
for the Eskimo and blankets for the Hottentots, and 
instead you sit and chew the rag and rip some woman up 
the back. The spirit of God flees from strife and discord. 

People say: "She is a good woman, but a worldly 


Christian," What? Might as well speak of a heavenly 
devil. Might as well expect a mummy to speak and bear 

children as that kind to move the world God-ward. Prayer 
draws you nearer to God. 

Learning of Christ 

"Teach us to pray/ 1 implies that I want to be taught. 
It's a great privilege to be taught by Jesus. A friend of 
mine was preaching out in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and had to 
go to a hospital in Chicago for an operation, and I was asked 
to go and preach in his place. Alexander was leading the 
singing, and one night Charles called a little girl out of the 
audience to sing. She didn't look over four or five years 
of age, though she might have been a little older. I thought, 
"What's the use? Her little voice can never be heard over 
this crowd." But Charlie stood her up in a chair by the 
pulpit and she threw back her head and out rolled some of 
the sweetest music I have ever heard. It was wonderful. 
I sat there and the tears streamed down my cheeks. That 
little girl was the daughter of a Northwestern engineer and 
he took her to Chicago when her mother was away. Some 
one took her to PattL Patti took the little girl to one of her 
suite of rooms and told her to stand there and sing. Then 
she went to the other end of the suite and sat down on a 
divan and listened. The song moved her to tears. She ran 
and hugged and kissed the little girl and sat her down on the 
divan and said to her: "Now you sit here and 111 go over 
there and sing." She took up her position where the child 
had stood, and she lifted her magnificent voice and she sang 
"Home, Sweet Home" and "The Last Rose of Summer" 
sang them for that little girl! And Patti used to get a thou 
sand dollars for a song, too. She always knew how many 
songs she was to sing, for she had a check before she went on 
the platform. It was a great privilege the little daughter 
of that Northwestern engineer had, but it's a greater privilege 
to learn from Jesus Christ how to pray. 

A friend of mine told me he went to hear Paganini, and 


the great violinist broke one of the strings of his instrument, 
then another, then another, until he had only one left, and 
on that one he played so wonderfully that Ms audience burst 
into terrific applause. It was a privilege to hear that, but 
it's a greater privilege to have Jesus teach you to pray, 

Let us take a few examples from the life of Christ. In 
Mark we learn that he rose up early in the morning and went 
out to a solitary place and prayed. He began every day with 
prayer. You never get up without dressing. You never 
forget to wash your face and comb your hair. You always 
think of breakfast. You feed your physical body. Why 
do you starve your spiritual body? If nine-tenths of you 
were as weak physically as you are spiritually, you couldn't 

When I was assistant secretary of the Y. M. C. A. at 
Chicago, John G. Paton came home from the New Hebrides 
and was lecturing and collecting money. He was raising 
money to buy a sea-going steam yacht, for his work took 
him from island to island and he had to use a row-boat, and 
sometimes it was dangerous when the weather was bad, so 
he wanted the yacht. We had him for a week, and it was my 
privilege to go to lunch with him. We would go out to a 
restaurant at noon and he would talk to us. Sometimes 
there would be as many as fifteen or twenty preachers in the 
crowd, and now and then some of us were so interested in 
what he told us of the work for Jesus in those far-away 
islands that we forgot to eat. I remember that he said one 
day: "All that I am I owe to my Christian father and 
mother. My father was one of the most prayerful men I 
ever knew. Often in the daytime he would slip into his 
closet, and he would drop a handkerchief outside the door, 
and when we 'children saw the white sentinel we knew that 
father was talking with his God and would go quietly away. 
It is largely because of the life and influence of that same 
saintly father that I am preaching to the cannibals in the 
South Seas." It is an insult to God and a disgrace to allow 
children to grow up without throwing Christian influences 


around them. Seven-tenths of professing Christians have 
no family prayers and do not read the Bible. It is no wonder 
boys and girls are going to heU. It is no wonder the damna 
ble ball-rooms are wrecking the virtue of our girls. 

In the fourteenth chapter of Matthew it is told that 
when Jesus had sent the multitudes away he went up into 
the mountain and was there alone with God* Jesus Christ 
never forgot to thank God for answering his prayers. Jesus 
asked him to help him feed the multitude, and he didn't 
neglect to thank him for it. Next time you pray don't ask 
God for anything. Just try to think of all the things you 
have to be thankful for, and tell him about them, 

Pride Hinders Prayer 

Pride keeps us from proper prayer. Being chesty and 
big-headed is responsible for more failures than anything 
else in this world. It has spoiled many a preacher, just as it 
has spoiled many an employee. Some fellows get a job and 
in about two weeks they think they know more about the 
business than the boss does. They think he is all wrong. 
It never occurs to them that it took some brains and some 
knowledge to build that business up and keep it running 
till they got there. 

Here's two things to guard against. Don't get chesty 
over success, or discouraged over a seeming defeat. 

"And when he prayed he said: ' Lazarus, come forth'; 
and he that was dead came forth." If we prayed right we 
would raise men from sin and bring them forth into the light 
of righteousness. 

" f And as he prayed the fashion of his countenance was 
altered." Ladies, do you want to look pretty? If some of 
you women would spend less on dope and cold cream and 
get down on your knees and pray, God would make you 
prettier. Why, I can look into your faces and tell what sort 
of lives you live. If you are devoting your time and thoughts 
to society, your countenances will show it. If you pray, I 
can see that. 


Every man who has helped to light up the dark places 
of the world has been a praying man, I never preach a 
sermon until I've soaked it in prayer. Never. Then I 
never forget to thank God for helping me when I preach. I 
don't care whether you read your prayers out of a book or 
whether you just say them, so long as you mean them. A 
man can read his prayers and go to heaven, or he may just 
say his prayers and go to hell. We've got to face conditions. 
When I read I find that all the saintly men who have done 
things from Pentecost until today, have known how to pray. 
It was a master stroke of the devil when he got the church to 
give up prayer. One of the biggest farces today is the aver 
age prayer-meeting. 

Praying in Secret 

Matthew says, "But thou, when thou prayest, enter into 
thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy 
Father, which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in 
secret shall reward thee openly." 

Two men came to the Temple to pray the first was the 
Pharisee. He was nice and smooth, and his attitude was 
nice and smooth. He prayed: "God, I thank thee that I am 
not- as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or 
even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes 
of all I possess," and he went out. I can imagine a lot 
of people sitting around the church and saying: "That is 
my idea of religion; that is it. I am no sensationalist; I 
don't want anything vulgar, no slang. 77 Why don 7 t you use 
a little, bud, so that something will come your way? And 
it will come as straight as two and two make four. 

Services rendered in such opposite directions cannot 
meet with the same results. If two men were on the top of 
a tall building and one should jump and one come down the 
fire escape they couldn ? t expect to meet with the same 
degree of safety. The Pharisee said, " Thank God, I am not 
as other men are," and the publican said, "God be merciful 
to me, a sinner." The first man went to his house the same 


as when he came out of it, "God be merciful to me, a sin 
ner." That man was justified. I am justified in my faith 

in Jesus Christ. I am no longer a sinner. I am justified 
as though I had never sinned by faith in the Son of God. 

That man went down to his house justified. 

Praying in Humility 

How many people pray in a real sense? How many 
people pray in humility and truth? Some men pray for 
humility when it is pride they want. Many a man gets 
down on his knees and says : " Our Father, who art in heaven, 
hallowed be thy name: thy kingdom come " That is not 
so; they don't want God's kingdom to come. It is not so 
with half the people that pray. I say to you when you pray 
in the church pew and say that, it don't count a snap of 
my finger if you don't live it. You pray, "Thy kingdom 
come/ 7 and then you go out and do something to prevent 
that kingdom from coining. No man can get down and 
pray "Thy kingdom come/' and have a beer wagon back up 
to his door and put beer in the ice box. No man can get 
down on his knees and pray "Thy kingdom come," and look 
through the bottom of a beer glass. God won't stand for it. 
If you wanted God's will done you would do God's will, even 
if it took every drop of blood in your body to do it. 

"Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven/' When 
you say this in your pew on Sunday it means nothing unless 
you live it on Monday. You say," Thy kingdom come," and 
then go out and do the very thing that will prevent God's 
kingdom from coming. Your prayers or anything you do in 
the church on Sunday mean nothing if you don't do the same 
thing in business on Monday. I don't care how loud your 
wind-jamming in prayer-meeting may be if you go out and 
skin somebody in a horse deal the next day. 

The man who truly prays, "Thy kingdom come," cannot 
take Ms heart out of his prayer when he is out of the church. 
The man who truly prays "Thy kingdom come," will not be 
shrinking his measures at the store; the load of coal he sends 


to you won't be half slate. The man who truly prays "Thy 
kingdom come " won't cut off his yardstick when he measures 
you a piece of calico. It will not take the pure-food law to 
keep a man who truly prays "Thy kingdom come" from 
putting chalk in the flour, sand in the sugar, brick dust in 
red pepper, ground peanut shells in breakfast food. 

The man who truly prays "Thy kingdom come" cannot 
pass a saloon and not ask himself the question, "What can 
I do to get rid of that thing that is blighting the lives of thou 
sands of young men, that is wrecking homes, and that is 
dragging men and women down to hell?" You cannot pray 
"Thy kingdom come/' and then rush to the polls and vote 
for the thing that is preventing that kingdom from coming. 
You cannot pray "Thy kingdom come" and then go and do 
the things that make the devil laugh. For the man who 
truly prays "Thy kingdom come" it would be impossible 
to have one kind of religion on his knees and another when he 
is behind the counter; it would be impossible to have one 
kind of religion in the pew and another in politics. When a 
man truly prays "Thy kingdom come" he means it in every 
thing or in nothing. 

A lot of church members are praying wrong. You 
should pray first, "God be merciful to me a sinner, " and then 
"Thy kingdom come." 

Saying a prayer is one thing : doing God's will is another. 
Both should be synonymous. Angels are angels because they 
do God's will. When they refuse to do God's will they be 
come devils. 

Many a man prays when he gets in a hole. Many a 
man prays when he is up against it. Many a man prays in 
the time of trouble, but when he can stick Ms thumbs in his 
armholes and take a pair of scissors and cut his coupons off, 
then it is "Good-bye, God ; I'll see you later." Many a man 
will make promises to God in his extremity, but forget them 
in his prosperity. Many a man will make promises to God 
when the hearse is backed up to the door to carry the baby 
out, but will soon forget the promises made in the days of 


adversity. Many a man will make promises when lying 
on Ms back, thinking he is going to die, and load up just the 
same when he is on his feet. 

Men of Prayer 

Every man and every woman that God has used to 
halt this sin-cursed world and set it going Godward has been 
a Christian of prayer. Martin Luther arose from his bed 
and prayed all night, and when the break of day came he 
called Ms wife and said to her, "It has come." History 
records that on that very day King Charles granted religious 
toleration, a thing for wMch Luther had prayed. 

John Knox, whom Ms queen feared more than any other 
man, was in such agony of prayer that he ran out into the 
street and fell on Ms face and cried, "0 God, give me 
Scotland or I'll die." And God gave him Scotland and not 
only that, he threw England in for good measure. 

When Jonathan Edwards was about to preach his 
greatest sermon on " Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," 
he prayed for days; and when he stood before the congrega 
tion and preached it, men caught at the seats in their terror, 
and some fell to^the floor; and the people cried out in their 
fear, "Mr. Edwards, tell us how we can be saved!" 

The critical period of American Mstory was between 
1784 and 1789. There was no common coinage, no common 
defense. When the colomes sent men to a constitutional 
convention, Benjamin Franklin, rising with the weight 
of Ms four score years, asked that the convention open with 
prayer, and George Washington there sealed the bargain 
with God. In that winter in Valley Forge, Washington led 
his men in prayer and he got down on his knees to do it. 

When the battle of Gettysburg was on, Lincoln, old Abe 
Lincoln, was on Ms knees with God; yes, he was on his 
knees from five o'clock in the afternoon till four o'clock in 
the morning, and Bishop Simpson was with him. 

"And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in My name, 
that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son/ 7 


No man can ever be saved without Jesus Christ, There's 
no way to God unless you come through Josus Christ. It's 
Jesus Christ or nothing. 

a Lord ? teach us to pray." 

The Revival on Trial 

One spark of fire can do more to prove the power of powder than a 
whole library written on the subject. BILLY SUNDAY. 

\ Hk T'HA^ Evangelist Sunday says to Ms congregations 
is sometimes less significant than what he helps 
'his congregation to say to the world. Let us 
take a sample meeting in the Pittsburgh campaign, with 
the tremendous deliverance which it made upon the sub 
ject of revivals and conversions. 

A "sea of faces" is a petrified phrase, which means 
nothing to most readers. Anybody who will stand on the 
platform behind Billy Sunday at one of his great taber 
nacles understands it. More than twenty thousand faces, 
all turned expectantly toward one man, confront you. 
The faces rather than the hair predominate. There are 
no hats in sight. 

Like the billows along the shore, which may be 
observed in detail, the nearer reaches of this human sea are 
individualized. What a Madonna-face yonder girl has! 
See the muscles of that young man's jaw working, in the 
intensity of his interest. The old man who is straining 
forward, so as not to miss a word, has put a black and 
calloused hand behind his ear. That gray-haired woman 
with the lorgnette and rolls of false hair started out with 
the full consciousness that she was a "somebody": watch 
her wilt and become merely a tired, heart-hungry old 
woman. And the rows and rows of undistinguished com 
monplace people, just like the crowds we meet daily in the 
street cars. 

Somehow, though, each seems here engaged in an 
individual transaction. A revival meeting accents per 
sonality. Twenty or thirty rows down the big congrega- 


tion begins to blurr in appearance, and individual faces are 
merged in the mass. The host, which is but an agglomera 
tion of individuals, is impressive. The "sea of faces" is 
more affecting than old ocean's expanse. 

Where else may one so see "the people"; or funda 
mental human nature so expressing itself? One compares 
these crowds with the lesser throngs that followed Jesus 
when he walked the earth, and recalls that "greater works 
than these shall they do. 77 There is a sermon in every aspect 
of the Billy Sunday meetings. 

Curiously, people will reveal more of themselves, be 
more candid concerning their inner experiences, in a crowd 
than when taken one by one. Thus this congregation is a 
rare laboratory. Tonight the evangelist is going to make 
an experiment upon revivals and their value. 

It is common to object to revivals and to revivalists. 
Billy Sunday's reply to this is simply unanswerable: he 
appeals to the people themselves for evidence. By a show 
of hands and he conducts this experiment in practically 
every community he visits he gives a convincing demon 
stration that it is by special evangelistic efforts that most 
Christians have entered the Church of* Christ. By the 
same method, he shows that youth is the time to make the 
great decision. 

When this question is put to a test a dramatic 
moment, the significance of which the multitude quickly 
grasps, ensues. On this occasion there are more than 
twenty thousand persons within the Tabernacle. First 
the evangelist asks^the confessed Christians to rise. The 
great bulk of the congregation stands on its feet. Then he 
asks for those who were converted in special meetings, 
revivals of some sort or other, to raise their hands. From 
three-fourths to four-fifths of the persons standing lift their 
hands in token that they were converted during revivals. 

Then each time elaborating his question so that 
there may be no misunderstanding Sunday asks those who 
were converted before they were twenty to indicate it. 


Here again the majority is so large as to be simply over 
whelming. It almost seems that the whole body of 
Christians had become such . before they attained their 
legal majority. 

Of the few hundreds that are left standing, Sunday 
asks in turn for those who were converted before they were 
thirty, those who were converted before they were forty, 
before they were fifty, before they were sixty. When it 
comes to this point of age the scene is thrilling in its signifi 
cance. Usually there are only one or two persons standing 
who have entered the Christian life after reaching fifty years 
of age. 

The conclusion is irresistible. Unless a person accepts 
Christ in youth the chances are enormously against his ever 
accepting Him subsequently. The demonstration is an 
impressive vindication of revivals, and of the importance of 
an early decision for Christ. 

After such a showing as this, everybody is willing to 
listen to a sermon upon revivals and their place in the econ 
omy of the Kingdom of Heaven. 


Somebody asks: "What is a revival? 77 Revival is a 
purely philosophical,' common-sense result of the wise use 
of divinely appointed means, just the same as water will put 
out a fire; the same as food will appease your hunger; just 
the same as water will slake your thirst; it is a philosophical 
common-sense use of divinely appointed means to accomplish 
that end* A revival is just as much horse sense as that. 

A revival is not material; it does not depend upon 
material means. It is a false idea that there is something 
peculiar in it, that it cannot be judged by ordinary rules, 
causes and effects. That is nonsense. Above your head 
there is an electric light; that is effect. What is the cause? 
Why, the dynamo. Eeligion can be judged on the same 
basis of cause and effect. If you do a thing, results always 
come. The results come to the farmer. He has his crops. 



That is the result. He has to plow and plant and take care 
of his farm before the crops come. 

Religion needs a baptism of horse sense. That is just 
pure horse sense* I believe there is no doctrine more dan 
gerous to the Church today than to convey the impression 
that a revival is something peculiar in itself and cannot be 
judged by the same rules of causes and effect as other things. 
If you preach that to the farmers if you go to a farmer and 
say "God is a sovereign," 
that is true; if you say "God 
will give you crops only 
when it pleases him, and it is 
no use for you to plow your 
ground and plant your crops 
in the spring/' that is all 
wrong, and if you preach 
that doctrine and expect the 
farmers to believe it, this 
country will starve to death 
in two years. The churches 
have been preaching some 
false doctrines and religion 
has died out. 

Some people think that 
religion is a good deal like 
a storm. They sit around 
and fold their arms, and 
that is what is the matter. 

You sit in your pews so easy that you become mildewed. 
Such results will be sure to follow if you are persuaded 
that religion is something mysterious and has no natural 
connection between the means and the end. It has a nat 
ural connection of common sense and I believe that when 
divinely appointed means are used spiritual blessing will 
accrue to the individuals and the community in greater 
numbers than temporal blessings. You can have spiritual 
blessings as regularly as the farmer can have corn, wheat, 



oats, or you can have potatoes and onions and cabbage in 
your garden. I believe that spiritual results will follow more 
surely than temporal blessings. I don't believe all this 
tommy-rot of false doctrines. You might as well sit around 
beneath the shade and fan yourself and say "Ain't it hot?" 
as to expect God to give you a crop if you don't plow the 
ground and plant the seed. Until the Church resorts to the 
use of divinely appointed means it won't get the blessing. 

What a Revival Does 

What is a revival? Now listen to me. A revival does 
two things* First, it returns the Church from her backsliding 
and second, it causes the conversion of men and women ; and 
it always includes the conviction of sin on the part of the 
Church. What a spell the devil seems to cast over the Church 

I suppose the people here are pretty fair representatives 
of the Church of God, and if everybody did what you do 
there were would never be a revival. Suppose I did no more 
than you do, then no people would ever be converted through 
my efforts; I would fold my arms and rust out. A revival 
helps to bring the unsaved to Jesus Christ. 
"" Go3""Alnighty never intended that the devil should 
triumph over the Church, He never intended that the 
saloons should walk rough-shod over Christianity. And 
if you think that anybody is going to frighten me, you 
don't know me yet* 

When is a revival needed? When the individuals are 
careless and unconcerned. If the Church were down on her 
face in prayer they would be more concerned with the fellow 
outside. The Church has degenerated into a third-rate 
amusement joint, with religion left out. 

When is a revival needed? When carelessness and un 
concern keep the people asleep. It is as much the duty of 
the Church to awaken and work and labor for the men and 
women of this city as it is the duty of the fire department to 
rash out when the call sounds. What would you think of 

a si 

a 8 2 o 
1 B I * ? 

M n > n 

>?<* M *** ^ 

M i 


^i 1 

s 1 



the fire department if it slept while the town burned? You 
would condemn them, and I will condemn you if you sleep 
and let men and women go to hell. It is just as much your 
business to be awake. The Church of God is asleep today; 
it is turned into a dormitory, and has taken the devil's 

When may a revival be expected? When the wicked 
ness of the wicked grieves and distresses the Christian. 
Sometimes people don't seem to mind the sins of other people. 
Don't seeni to mind while boys and girls walk the streets of 
their city and know more of evil than gray-haired men. You 
are asleep. 

When is a revival needed? When the Christians have 
lost the spirit of prayer. 

When is a revival needed? When you feel the want of 
revival and feel the need of it. Men have had this feeling, 
ministers have had it until they thought they would die 
unless a revival would come to awaken their people, their 
students, their deacons and their Sunday-school workers, 
unless they would fall down on their faces and renounce the 
world and the works and deceits of the devil. When the 
Church of God draws its patrons from the theaters the 
theaters will close up, or else take the dirty, rotten plays off 
the stage. 

When the Church of God stops voting for the saloon, the 
saloon will go to hell. When the members stop having cards 
in their homes, there won't be so many black-legged gamblers 
in the world. This is the truth. You can't sit around and 
fold your arms and let God run this business; you have been 
doing that too long here. When may a revival be expected? 
When Christians confess their sins one to another. Some 
times they confess in a general way, but they have no earnest 
ness; they get up and do it in eloquent language, but that 
doesn't do it. It is when they break down and cry and 
pour out their hearts to God in grief, when the flood 
gates open, then I want to tell you the devil will have cold 


Revival Demands Sacrifice 

When may a revival be expected? When the wicked 
ness of the wicked grieves and distresses the Church. When 
you are willing to make a sacrifice for the revival; when you 
are willing to sacrifice your feelings. You say, "Oh, well, 
Mr. Sunday hurt my feelings." Then don't spread them all 
over his tabernacle for men to walk on. I^degpise.a touchy 
man. or woman. Make a sacrifice of yourTeelings; male^a 
sacrifice of your business, of your time, of your money; you 
are willing to give to help to advance God's cause, for God's 
cause has to have money the same as a railroad or a steam 
ship company. When you give your influence and stand up 
and let people know you stand for Jesus Christ and it has 
your indorsement and time and money. Somebody has got 
to get on the firing line. Somebody had to go on the firing 
line and become bullet meat for $13 a month to overcome 
slavery. Somebody has to be willing to make a sacrifice. 
They must be willing to get out and hustle and do things for 

When may a revival be expected? A revival may be 
expected when Christian people confess and ask forgiveness 
for their sins. When you are willing that God shall promote 
and use whatever means or instruments or individuals or 
methods he is pleased to use to promote them. Yes. The 
trouble is he cannot promote a revival if you are sitting on 
the judgment of the methods and means that God is employ 
ing to promote a revival. The God Almighty may use any 
method or means or individual that he pleases in order to 
promote a revival. You are not running it. Let God have 
his way. You can tell whether you need a revival. You 
can tell if you will have one and why you have got one. If 
God should ask you sisters and preachers in an audible 
voice, "Are you willing that I should promote a revival by 
using any methods or means or individual language that I 
choose to use to promote it?" what would be your answer? 
Yes. Then don't growl if I use some things that you don't 
like. You have no business to. How can you promote a 


revival? Break up your fallow ground, the ground that 
produces nothing but weeds, briars, tin cans and brick-bats. 
Fallow ground is ground that never had a glow in it. Detroit 
had a mayor, Pingree, when Detroit had thousands and 
thousands of acres of fallow ground. This was taken over 
by the municipal government and planted with potatoes 
with which they fed the poor of the city. 

There are individuals who have never done anything 
for Jesus Christ, and I have no doubt there are preachers as 
well, who have never done anything for the God Almighty. 
There are acres and acres of fallow ground lying right here 
that have never been touched. Look over your past life, 
look over your present life and future and take up the 
individual sm^jii(i_with.pen.cil,and .paper write them. .down. 
A general confession will never do. You Tiaro'' 'committed 
your sins, one by one, and you will have to confess them 
one by one. This thing of saying, "God, lam a sinner," 
won't do. 

"God, I am a gossiper in my neighborhood. God, I have 
been in my ice-box while I am here listening to Mr. Sunday." 
Confess your sins. ^ _^"' 

How can you promote a revival? You woineh^if you 
found that your husband was giving his love and attention 
to some other woman and if you saw that some other woman 
was encroaching on Ms mind and heart, and was usurping 
your place and was pushing you out of the place, wouldn't 
you grieve? Don't you think that God grieves when you 
push him out of your life? You don't treat God square. You 
business men don't treat God fair. You let a thousand things 
come in and take the place that God Almighty had. No 
wonder you are careless. You blame God for things you have 
no right to blame him for. He is not to blame for anything. 
You judge God. The spirit loves the Bible; the devil loves 
the flesh. 

If you don't do your part, don't blame God. How many 
times have you blamed God when you are the liar yourself. 
You are wont to blame him for the instances of unbelief 


that have come into your life. When should we promote a 
revival? When there is a neglect of prayer? When your 
prayers affect God? You never think of going out on the 
street without dressing. You would be pinched before you 
went a block. You never think of going without breakfast, 
do you? I bet there are multitudes that have come here 
without reading the Bible or praying for this meeting. 

You can measure your desire for salvation by means of 
the amount of self-denial you are willing to practice for Jesus 
Christ. You have sinned before the Church, before the 
world, before God. 

Don't the Lord have a hard time? Own up, now. 

Persecution a Godsend 

There are a lot of people in church, doubtless, who have 
denied themselves self-denial for comfort and convenience. 
There are a lot of people here who never make any sacrifices 
for Jesus Christ. They will not suffer any reproaches for 
Jesus Christ. Paul says, "I love to suffer reproaches for 
Christ." The Bible says, " Woe unto you when all men shall 
speak well of you." " Blessed are you when your enemies 
persecute you." That is one trouble in the churches of 
God today. They are not willing to suffer reproach for God's 
sake. It would be a godsend if the Church would suffer 
persecution today; she hasn't suffered it for hundreds of 
years. She is growing rich and' lagging behind. Going 

Pride! How many times have you found yourself 
exercising pride? How many times have you attempted 
pride of wealth? Proud because you were related to some 
of the old families that settled in the Colonies in 1776. That 
don't get you anything; not at all. I have got as much to 
be proud of as to lineage as anyone; my great-grandfather 
was in the Revolutionary War, lost a leg at Brandywine; 
and my father was a soldier in the Civil War. 

Envy! Envy of those that have more talent than you. 
Envious because someone can own a limousine Packard and 


yon have to ride a Brush runabout; envious because some 
women can wear a sealskin, coat and you a nearseal. 

Then there is your grumbling and fault-finding. When 
speaking of people behind their backs, telling their faults, 
whether real or imaginary, and that is slander* When you 
sit around and rip people up behind their backs at your old 
sewing societies, when you rip and tear and discuss your 
neighbors and turn the affair into a sort of a great big 
gossiping society, with your fault-finding, grumbling and 
growling. There is a big difference between levity and 
happiness, and pleasure, and all that sort of thing. 

Make up your mind that God has given himself up for 
you. I would like to see something come thundering along 
that I would have more interest in than I have in the cause 
of God Almighty! God has a right to the first place. God 
is first, remember that. 

Multitudes of people are willing to do anything that 
doesn't require any self-denial on their part. 

I am not a member of any lodge, and never expect to 
be, but if I were a member of a lodge and there were a prayer- 
meeting and a lodge-meeting coining on Wednesday night, 
I would be at the prayer-meeting instead of at the lodge- 
meeting. I am not against the lodges; they do some good 
work in the world, but that doesn't save anyone for God. 
God is first and the lodge-meeting is second. God is first 
and society second. God is first and business is second. "In 
the beginning, God!" That is the way the Bible starts out 
and it ought to be the warmth every living being. "In th 

shall be added unto you. Christianity is addition; sin is 
subtraction. Christianity is peace, joy, salvation, heaven. 
Sin takes away peace, happiness, sobriety, and it takes away 
health. You are robbing God of the time that you misspend. 
You are robbing God when you spend time doing something 
that don't amount to anything, when you might do some 
thing for Christ. You are robbing God when you go to 
foolish amusements, when you sit around reading trashy 
novels instead of the Word of God. 


"Oh, Lord, revive thy work!" 

I have only two minutes more and then I am through. 
Bad temper. Abuse your wife and abuse your children; 
abuse your husband; turn your old gatling-gun tongue loose. 
A lady came to me and said, "Mr. Sunday, I know I have a 
bad temper, but I am over with it in a minute." So is the 
shotgun, but it blows everything to pieces. 

And, finally, you abuse the telephone girl because she 
doesn't connect you in a minute,. Bad temper. I say you 
abuse your wife, you go cussing around if supper isn't ready 
on time; cussing because the coffee isn't hot; you dig your 
fork into a hunk of beefsteak and put it on your plate and 
then you say: "Where did you get this, in the harness shop? 
Take it out and make a hinge for the door." Then you go 
to your store, or office, and smile and everybody thinks you 
are an angel about to sprout wings and fly to the imperial 
realm above. Bad temper! You growl at your children; 
you snap and snarl around the house until they have to go 
to the neighbors to see a smile. They never get a kind word 
no wonder so many of them go to the devil quick. 

An Army with Banners 

The man who is right with God will not be wrong with anything that 
is good. BILLY SUNDAY. 

nr^HE oldest problem j>f the Christian Church, and the 
1 latest problem of democracy, is how to reach the 
great mass of the people. Frequently the charge Is 
made that the Church merely skims the surface of society, and 
that the great uncaring masses of the people lie untouched 
beneath it. Commonly, a revival reaches only a short 
distance outside the circumference of church circles. The 
wonder and greatness of the Billy Sunday campaigns 
consist in the fact that they reach to the uttermost rim of 
a community, to its greatest height and its lowest depth. 
There can be no question that he stirs a city as not even 
the fiercest political campaign stirs it. Sunday touches life 
on all levels, bringing his message to bear upon the society 
woman in, her parlor and the humblest day laborer in the 

This does not come to pass by any mere chance. Organ 
ized activity achieves it. The method which produces the 
greatest results is what is called the Delegation Idea, whereby 
detachments of persons from various trades, callings and 
organizations and communities attend in a body upon the 
services of the Sunday Tabernacle. 

By prearrangement, seats are reserved every night for 
these visiting delegations. Sometimes there will be as many 
as a dozen delegations present in one evening. As the 
campaign progresses towards its conclusion real difficulty 
is experienced in finding open dates for all the delegations 
that apply. At the outset, Mr. Sunday's assistants have 
to "work up" these delegations. Later, the delegations 
themselves besiege the workers. 



In variety the delegations range from a regiment of 
Boy Scouts to a post of old soldiers; from the miners of a 
specified colliery to the bankers of the city; from the 
telephone girls to the members of a woman's club ; from 
an athletic club to a Bible class. 

Not only the community in which the meetings are 
being held furnish these delegations, but the surrounding 
territory is drawn upon. It is by no means an unknown 
thing for a single delegation, numbering a thousand or 
fifteen hundred men, to come a distance of fifteen or twenty- 
five jniles to attend a Sunday Tabernacle service. Almost 
every evening there are lines of special cars waiting for these 
deputations who have come from afar, with their banners 
and their badges and their bands, all bent upon hearing 
and being heard at the Tabernacle. 

The crowd spirit is appealed to by this method. The 
every-day instinct of loyalty to one's craft or crowd is 
aroused. Each delegation feels its own identity and 
solidarity, and wants to make as good a showing as possible. 
There is considerable wholesome emulation among the 
delegations representing the same craft or community. 
Of course, the work of making ready the delegation furnishes 
a topic for what is literally "shop talk' 7 among working 
men; and naturally each group zealously watches the 
effect of its appearance upon the great congregation. Dele 
gations get a very good idea of what their neighbors think of 
them by the amount of applause with which they are 
greeted. Thus when the whole force of a daily newspaper 
appears in the Tabernacle 'its readers cheer vociferously. 
Every delegation goes equipped with its own battle cry, 
and prepared to make as favorable a showing as possible. 

All this is wholesome for^the community life. It fosters 
loyalty in the varied groups that go^to make up our society. 
Any shop is the better for its workers, led by their heads of 
departments and by their employers, having gone in a solid 
phalanx to a Tabernacle meeting. Every incident of that 
experience becomes an unfailing source of conversation for 
long days and weeks to follow. 


H I 

125 o S 



Naturally, too, each delegation, delighted with the 
showing it has made at the Tabernacle, and with the part it 
has borne in the meeting, becomes one more group of parti 
sans for the Billy Sunday campaign. Men who would not 
go alone to the Tabernacle, cannot in loyalty well refuse to 
stand by their own crowd. So It comes to pass that the dele 
gation idea penetrates every level and every section of the 
community. A shrewder scheme for reaching the last man 
could scarcely be devised. Thousands who are impervious 
to religious appeals quickly respond to the request that they 
stand by their shop-mates and associates. 

Participation in the meetings makes the people them 
selves feel the importance of their own part. They are not 
merely a crowd coming to be talked at; they share in the 
meetings. The newspapers comment upon them even as 
upon the sermon. All are uplifted by the glow of geniality 
and camaraderie which pervades the Tabernacle. For the 
songs and slogans and banners of the delegations greatly 
help to swell the interest of the meetings. 

All this is wholesome, democratic and typically Ameri- 
can. This good-natured crowd does not become unreal or 
artificial simply because it is facing the fundamental verities 
of the human soul. 

Outspokenness in loyalty, a characteristic of Sunday 
converts, expresses itself through many channels. Taught 
by the delegation idea, as well as by the sermon, the impor 
tance of standing up to be cpunted, the friends and converts 
of the evangelist are always ready for the great parade which 
usually is held toward the close of the campaign. The simple 
basis for this street demonstration is found in the old Scrip 
ture, " Let the redeemed of the Lord say so." The idea of the 
Roman imperial triumph survives in the Billy Sunday pa 
rade. It is a testimony to the multitudes of the loyalty of 
Christians to the Gospel. 

Beyond all question, a tremendous impression is made 
upon a city by the thousands of marching men whom ihe 
evangelist first leads and then reviem A street parade I 


a visualization of the forces of the Church in a community. 
Many a man of the street, who might be unmoved by many 
arguments, however powerful, cannot escape the impression 
of the might of the massed multitudes of men who march 
through the streets, thousands strong. Some twenty thou 
sand men were in the Sunday parade at Scranton. No 
body who witnessed them, be he never so heedless a 
scoffer, could again speak slightingly of the Church. Re 
ligion loses whatever traits of femininity it may have 
possessed, before the Sunday campaign is over. 

Those most practical of men, the politicians, are quick 
to take cognizance of this new power that has arisen in the 
community's life. They know that every one of these men 
not only has a vote, but is a center of influence for the things 
in which he believes. 

The heartening effect of such a great demonstration as 
this upon the obscure, lonely and discouraged saints is beyond 

The great hosts of the Billy Sunday campaign are re 
turning to first principles by taking religion out into the 
highways and making it talked about, even as the Founder 
of the Church created a conn-motion in the highways of 
Capernaum and Jerusalem. . These marching men are a ser 
mon one or two miles long. The impression made upon 
youth is not to be registered by any means in the possession 
of men. Every Christian the world around must be grateful 
to this evangelist and his associates for giving the sort of 
demonstration, which cannot be misunderstood by the 
world at large, of the virility and the immensity of the hosts 
of heaven on earth. 

Many of the utterances of Billy Sunday are attuned to 
this note of valiant witness-bearing for Christ. 


Samson didn't realize that the Spirit of the Lord had 
departed from him; he walked out and shook himself as 
aforetime; he weighed as much; he was as strong physically; 


Ms mind was as active, but although, lie possessed all that, 
there was one thing that was necessary to make Mm as he 
had been: "He wist not that the Spirit of the Lord had 
left him." 

A man may have a fine physique ; he may have strength ; 
he may have greatness; he may have a beautiful home; and 
a church may be magnificent and faultless in its equipment; 
the preacher may be able to reason; the choir may rival the 
angels in music; but if you have not the Spirit of the Lord 
you are, as Paul says, as sounding brass and tiaklingcymbals, 
and the church is merely four walls with a roof over it. 

Nothing in the world can be substituted for the Spirit 
of God; no wealth, culture nor anything in the world. By 
power we do not mean numbers; there never has been a 
time when there were more members in the Church than 
today; yet we haven't kept progress in the number of mem 
bers in the Church with the increased number of people in 
the nation. Our nation has grown to over 90,000,000 of 
people, but we are not correspondingly keeping pace with 
the number of church members. God's Church has not 
increased correspondingly in power as it has in numbers; 
while increasing in numbers it has not increased in spir 
itual power. I am giving you facts, not fancies. We are 
not dealing with theories. I am not saying anything against 
the Church; you never had a man come into this community 
who would fight harder for the Church of God Almighty than 
I would. I am talking about her sins and the things that 
sap her power and by power I do not mean numbers. 
E you had an army of 100,000 and increased it another 
100,000 it ought to be doubled in power* 

Derelicts in the Church 

In the Church of God today you know there are a lot 
of people who are nothing but derelicts and nothing but 

By power I do not mean wealth. We are the richest 
people on the earth; nineteen-twentieths of all the wealth 


or all the money in the United States today is in the hands 
of professing Christians, Catholic and Protestant. That 
ought to mean that it is in God's hands; but it doesn't. 
They are robbing God. I was in a church in Iowa that had 
three members who were worth $200,000 each and they paid 
their preacher the measly salary of $600 a year, and I will 
be homswaggled if they did not owe him $400 then. If 
I ever skinned any old fellows I did those old stingy coots, 
A man who doesn't pay to the church is as big a swindler as 
a man who doesn't pay his grocery bill and he is dead-beat 
ing his way to hell. You let somebody else pay your bills, 
you old dead-beat, God hasn't any more use today for a 
dead-beat in the church than he has for the man who 
doesn't pay Ms grocery bill not a bit! 

By power I do not mean culture. There never was a 
time when the people of America were better informed than 
they are today; they have newspapers, telephones, tele 
graphs, rural delivery, fast trains. You can leave home and 
in five days you are in Europe. If something happens in 
China or Japan tonight you can read it before you go to bed, 
The islands of the sea are our neighbors. 

A stranger once asked: "What is the most powerful 
and influential church in this town? " 

"That big stone Presbyterian church on the hill." 

"How many members has it?" 

"I don't know, my wife is a member." 

"How many Sunday-school members?" 

"I don't know; my children go." 

"How many go to prayer-meetings?" 

"I don't know; I have never been there." 

"How many go to communion?" 

"I don't know, I never go; my wife goes." - 

Then the stranger said: "Will you please tell me why 
you said it was the most powerful and influential church in 
the community?" 

"Yes, sir; it is the only church in the town that has 
three millionaires in the church." That was why he thought 


it was a great church. The Church in America would die 
of dry rot and sink forty-nine fathoms in hell if all members 
were multimillionaires and college graduates. That ought 
not to be a barrier to spiritual power. By power I do not 
mean influence. 

Fd hate to have to walk back nineteen hundred years 
to Pentecost. There were 120 at Pentecost who saved 3,000 

Some of the most powerful churches I have ever worked 
with were not the churches that had the largest number or 
the richest members. Out in a town in Iowa there were three 
women who used to pray all night every Thursday night, 
one of them a colored woman. People used to come under 
her windows at night and listen to her pray. She murdered 
the king's English five times in every sentence, but oh, she 
knew God. They had 500 names on their list for prayer and 
when the meetings closed they had checked off 397 of them. 
Every Friday I would be called over the telephone or receive 
a letter or meet those women and they would tdl me what 
assurances God gave them as to who would be saved. I 
have never met three women that were stronger in faith 
than those three. That town was Fairfield, Iowa, one of 
the brightest, cleanest, snappiest little towns I ever went into. 

The Meaning of Power 

Samson wist not the Spirit of the Lord had departed. 
So might we have money, so might we have members, so 
might we have increase in culture; but we have not increased 
in power. I mean spiritual power; power to bring things 
to pass by way of reform. What do I mean by power? I 
have told you what I did not mean. 

By power I mean when the power of God comes upon 
you and enables you to do what you could not do without 
that power. That comes to you through confidence and 
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. There was a time when the 
Church had more spiritual power than she has today; there 
never WES a time when she had more members than she has 


today; there never was a time when she had more money 
than she has today; more culture; but there was a time when 
she had more spiritual power than today. 

And when she had more spiritual power she was a sepa 
rate institution. She was not living for the devil as she is 
today. And the Church had not become a clearing house for 
the forces of evil. We are told that at Pentecost tongues of 
fire came upon the expectant worshipers. 

I don't mean this gabby stuff they have got today that 
they call the things of the spirit; I don't mean that jabbering 
and froth and foaming at the mouth when you can't under 
stand a word they say. Try the Spirit, whether it be of 
God, and in all ages when the Church has stood for some 
thing she has had power. 

So few of us dream of the tremendous power at our 
command. At the World's Fair at Chicago the door to 
one of the great buildings was without doorknob or latch, 
for these were not needed. There was a great mat at the 
entrance, and as you stepped upon it your weight would 
cause an electrical connection to be made and the great 
doors would swing open. I take this old Book and stand 
upon it, and all the wonders of life and eternity are opened 
to me. The power of the Holy Spirit is at my command. 

Church Needs Great Awakening 

Let's quit fiddling with religion and do something to 
bring the world to Christ. We need a Pentecost today. 
The Church needs a great awakening. Now, I'll not stand 
anyone's saying anything against the Church as an institu 
tion; but I will rebuke its sins and point out its shortcomings, 
Nobody who loves the Church can be silent when so much 
needs to be said. I love the Church. I want to explode that 
old adage that "Love is blind" ; I tell you, love has an eagle's 

Lots of churches are wrong in their financial policy. 
It is a wrong that the churches have to resort to tricks that 
would shame the devil in order to filch a quarter out of a 

AN 307 

fellow's pocket to help pay the preacher's back salary. There 
is hardly a church in this country that couldn't have abun 
dant funds if the people would only give of their means as 
they are commanded by God. 

Then, too often you put the wrong men in places of 
authority in the church. You elect some old fellow who 
would look better in a penitentiary suit, just because he had 
a "drag" somewhere We must quit putting such men in 
church offices. 

When I was a boy I was taught how to put glass knobs 
on the feet of a chair and charge the chair with electricity. 
So long as I didn't touch anything but the chair I was all 
right, but if I touched the wall or something else I got a 
shock. The power passed through and from me. As 
Christians we cannot come into touch with defiling things 
without suffering a loss of spiritual power. You can't go 
to the dance and the card party and the cheap-skate show 
without losing power. Yes, you can do those things and be 
a church member. But you can be a church member without 
being a Christian. There's a difference. 

I read in the Bible that Lot first pitched Ms tents near 
Sodom. Next I read that Lot moved right into Sodom, and 
lived there for twenty years. He lost his power there, too. 
When God warned him to get out of the city he went and 
told his sons and daughters, but they wouldn't heed him. 
He had lost his power over them. He warned his sons-in- 
law, but they wouldn't heed him. He even lost power over 
his own wife, for he told her not to look back as they fled, and 
she rubbered. 

If you have lost spiritual power it is because you have 
disobeyed some clear command of God. Maybe you're 
stingy. God requires tithes. He commands you to give 
one tenth of your income to him, and maybe you don't do it, 
It may be your temper. It may be that you have neglected 
to read the Bible and haven't prayed as you should. 

The Church is a failure because she is compromising 
with the men that sit in the seats and own saloons whom 


she never rebukes; she is compromising with the men who 
rent their property for disorderly houses, and whom she never 
rebukes. They are living off the products of shame and if 
they buy food and clothes for their wives and children from 
such money, they, too, are living off this product of shame. 
We have lost our power because we have compromised. 

When I played base ball I used to attend every theater 
in the country. Since I was converted I have not darkened 
a theater's door, except to preach the Gospel. We've lost 
our power because we've lost our faith. 

Our leading members are leaders in nothing but card 
parties and society; they are not leaders in spiritual things. 
A man comes to me and says, "Mrs. So-and-So is one of my 
leading members." 

I ask : " Does she get to prayer-meetings? " 


"Does she visit the sick?" 


"Does she put her arms around some poor sinner and 
try to save her for Christ?" 


And I find she is a leader in nothing but society, card 
parties, dances and bridge-whist clubs. I don't call that kind 
a leading woman in the church; she is the devil's bell-wether. 
That is true. I tell you people what I call your leading 
woman: She is the one who gets down on her knees and 
prays; she is the one that can wrap her arms around a sinner 
and lead her to Christ; that is a leading church member. 
You have it doped out wrong. 

Did Martin Luther trim his sails to the breeze of his 
day? If he had, you would never have had a Reformation. 
I will tell you why we have lost our power; I have told you 
what I don't mean by power. 

Lost Power 

We have lost our power because we have failed to insist 
on the separation of the Church from the world. The 


Church is a separate body of men and women; we are to be 
in the world, but not of the world. She is all right in the 
world, all wrong when the world is in her, and the trouble 
with the Church today is that she has sprung a leak. The 
flood tides of the world have been swept in until even her 
pews are engulfed, yes, even the choir loft is almost sub 
merged. We have become but a third-rate amusement 
bureau. The world has got to see a clean-cut line of de- 
markation between the Church and the world. So I believe. 

If there's anything the Church of God needs it's to 
climb the stairs and get in an upper room. 

Jome out from the things of the world. When you hand 
out a pickle and a bunch of celery for the cause of good, then 
will my Father not be glorified; nor will he be glorified when 
you sell oyster soup at twenty-five cents a dish, when one 
lone oyster chases around the dish to find his brother. It 
doesn't require much power to do that, for two dollars would 
hire a girl to dish up ice-cream. That does not get you 
spiritual power. 

There is deep heart hungering in the Church today for 
the old-time Pentecostal power. 

Now, I do not know that the Spirit will ever come to us 
as he came to Pentecost, for you must remember that 
he came to usher in the new dispensation, or the dispensation 
of the Holy Ghost. It is true he was present in the Old 
Testament. He was in Abraham and Moses. 

You'll have power when there is nothing questionable 
in your life. 

You'll have power when you testify in a more positive 

Do as the disciples did, believe and receive the Holy 
Spirit by waiting. The Holy Spirit is ours. He is the prom 
ise of Jesus from the Father as a gift to the prayers of the 
Son. God can no more fill you with the Spirit if you are 
not right, willing and waiting to receive Him, than he can 
send the sunshine into your house if you have the blinds and 
shutters all closed. You can pray tOl you are black in the 


face and bald-headed, but you're wasting your time unless 

you agree with God. There can be no wedding unless two 
parties are agreed. If the girl says "No," that ends it. 
Don't think you are walking with God just because your 
name is on a church record. Walk in the path of righteous 
ness even if it leads to a coffin and the graveyard. 

Jesus gave his disciples power to perform miracles. That 
same power can be delegated to you and me today. He 
always spoke of the Holy Spirit in the future. He was not 
there. He didn't have to be. They had Jesus, but the 
Church needs him today. It needs a baptism of the Holy 
Ghost. There are no substitutes. You can organize, 
prepare, hire the best singers and preachers in the universe, 
but you'll get no power. No matter what Scriptural knowl 
edge he may have, no matter if he prays so that it reaches 
the stars, no matter if his sermons sway the congregation 
with their word pictures, no matter if the singers warble 
faultlessly and to beat the band the preacher and the 
singers will produce no more effect than the beating of a 
drum or the running of a music box. The preacher who 
murders the king's English four times to every sentence and 
has the Holy Ghost will get the revival. 

The Church today needs power. It has plenty of wealth, 
culture and numbers. There is no substitute for the Holy 
Spirit and you cannot have power without the Holy Spirit. 
The Holy Spirit is ours by the promise of Christ. To 
receive him we must give up all sin and walk in the path of 
righteousness even if it carries us to our graves or across 
the seas as a missionary. Give up everything the Lord 
forbids even if it is as important to you as your hand or 
your eye* 

A Life Enlistment 

When a man, after starting to be a Christian, looks back, it is only a 
question of time until he goes back. BILLY SUNDAY. 

PROFESSOR WILLIAM JAMES, the philosopher, 
contended that there was a scientific value to the- 
stories of Christian conversions; that these properly 
belonged among the data of religion, to be weighed by the 
man of science. Harold Begbie's notable book, " Twice- 
Born Men," was recognized by Professor James as a con 
tribution to the science of religion; for it was simply a 
collection of the stories of men whose lives had been trans 
formed by the gospel which the Salvation Army had carried 
to them. A whole library of such books as " Twice-Born 
Men" could be written concerning the converts of Billy 
Sunday* His converts not only " right-about-face" but 
they keep marching in the new direction. Their enlistment 
is for life. 

This point is one of the most critical in the whole realm 
of the discussion of revivals. Times without number it has 
been charged that the converts of evangelists lose their 
religion as quickly as they got it. A perfectly fair question 
to ask concerning these Billy Sunday campaigns is, "Are 
they temporary attacks of religious hysteria, mere efferves 
cent moods of spiritual exaltation, which are dissipated by 
the first contact with life's realities?" 

Here is opportunity for the acid test. Billy Sunday 
has been conducting revival meetings long enough to 
enable an investigator to go back over Ms trail and trace 
Ms results. After years have passed, are there still evidences 
of the presence and work of the evangelist? To this only 
one answer can be made. The most skeptical and antag 
onistic person cannot fail to find hundreds and thousands 



of Billy Sunday converts in the churches of the towns where 
the envangelist has conducted meetings during the past 
twenty years. 

Not all of the converts have held fast; we cannot for 
get that one of the Twelve was a completQrenegade, and that 
the others were for a time weak in the faith. Alas, this 
condition is true of Christian converts, however made. 
The terrible record revealed in each year's church statistics, 
of members who are missing entirely lost to the knowledge 
of the Church is enough to restrain every pastor from 
making uncharitable remarks upon the recruits won by an 
evangelist. The fact to be stressed at this present moment 
is that Billy Sunday converts are to be found in all depart 
ments of church work, in the ministry itself, and on the 
foreign field. 

One reason for the conservation of the results of the 
Sunday campaigns is that all the powers of the evangelist 
and his organization are exerted to lead those who have 
confessed Christ in the tabernacles to become members of 
the church of their choice, at the earliest possible date. 
Sunday sa3 r s candidly that converts cannot expect to grow 
in grace and usefulness outside the organized Church of 
Christ. Thus it comes about that before a Sunday cam 
paign closes, and for months afterwards, the church papers 
report wholesale accessions to the local congregations of all 
denominations. Three thousand new church members were 
added in a single Sunday in the city of Scranton. 

What these campaigns mean in the way of rehabilitating 
individual churches is illustrated by what a Scranton pastor 
said to me toward the close of the Sunday campaign: 
"You know my church burned down a short time ago. We 
have been planning to rebuild. Now, however, we shall have 
to rebuild to twice the size of our old church, and we have 
enough new members already to make sure that our financial 
problem will be a simple one." In other words, the coming 
of the evangelist had turned into a triumph and a new start 
ing point for this congregation what might have otherwise 
been a time of discouragement and temporary defeat 


For a moment the reader should take the viewpoint of 
the pastors who have been straggling along faithfully, year 
after year, at best getting but a few score of new members 
each year. Then Billy Sunday appears. The entire atmos 
phere and outlook of the church is transformed within a few 
days. Optimism reigns. Lax church members become 
Christian workers, and enthusiasm for the kingdom pervades 
the entire membership. The churches of the community 
find themselves bound together in a new solidarity of fellow 
ship and service. 

Then, to crown all, into the church membership come 
literally hundreds of men and women, mostly young, and 
all burning with the convert's ardent zeal to do service for 
the Master. Can anybody but a pastor conceive the thrill 
that must have come to the minister of a Wilkes-Barre 
church which added one thousand new members to its 
existing roll, as a result of the Billy Sunday campaign in 
that city? 

Six months after the Sunday meetings in Scranton I 
visited Carbondale, a small town sixteen miles distant from 
Scranton, and talked with two of the resident pastors. There 
are four Protestant churches in Carbondale, which have 
already received a thousand new members within five months. 
All these converts are either the direct result of Billy Sunday's 
preaching, or else the converts of converts. Out of a Prot 
estant population of nine thousand persons, the Carbondale 
churches have received one-ninth into their membership 
within six months. These bare figures do not express the 
greater total of Christian service and enthusiasm which 
permeates the community as an abiding legacy of the Billy 
Sunday campaign. These converts consider that they have 
been saved to serve. 

Asked to fix a period after which he would expect a 
reaction from the Sunday meetings, a critic would probably 
say about one year. On this point we learn that when the 
evangelist visited the city of Scranton, which is within an 
hour's ride of Wilkes-Barre, he found that the influence of 


the meetings which he had held a year previously in Wilkes- 
Barre were perhaps the most potent single factor in preparing 
the people of Scranton for his conning. Night after night 
Wilkes-Barre sent delegations of scores and hundreds over 
to the Scranton Tabernacle, Investigators from afar who 
came to look into the Scranton meetings were advised to go 
to the neighboring city to ascertain what were the effects 
of the campaign after a year. The result was always con 

When the evangelist was in Pittsburgh, MeKeesport, 
where he had been six years before, sent many delegations 
to hear him and on one occasion fifteen hundred persons made 
the journey from MeKeesport to Pittsburgh to testify to the 
lasting benefits which their city had received from the 
evangelist's visit. 

Usually some organization of the "trail-hitters" is 
effected after the evangelist's departure. These are bands 
for personal Christian work. The most remarkable of them 
all is reported from Wichita, Kansas, where the aftermath 
of the Sunday meetings has become so formidable as to 
suggest a new and general method of Christian service by 

The Sunday converts organized themselves into " Gos 
pel Teams/' who announce that they are ready to go any 
where and conduct religious meetings, especially for men. 
They offer to pay their own expenses, although frequently 
the communities inviting them refuse to permit this. Some 
times these Gospel Teams travel by automobiles or street 
cars and sometimes they make long railway journeys. 

The men have so multiplied themselves that there are 
now more than three hundred Gospel Teams in this work 
and they have formed "The National Federation of Gospel 
Teams" of which Claude Stanley of Wichita is president and 
West Goodwin of Cherryvale, Kansas, is secretary. 

Up to date, the tremendous total of eleven thousand 
conversions is reported by these unsalaried, self-supporting 
gospel workers, who joyously acclaim Billy Sunday as their 


leader. They represent Ms teachings and Ms spirit in 

The most celebrated of these gospel teams is "The 
Business Men's Team" of WicMta, an interdenominational 
group. It comprises such men as Henry Allen, the editor of 
the WicMta Beacon and one of the foremost public men of 
the state; the president of the Inter-urban Railway; the 
president of the Kansas Mutual Bank, and other eminent 
business men. This team has visited eleven states in its 
work, all without a penny of cost to the Church, and with 
results exceeding those achieved by many great and expen 
sive organizations, 

The Billy Sunday converts not only stick but they- 
multiply themselves and become effective servants of the 
Church and the kingdom. 

Nobody is left to conjecture as to the sort of counsel 
that Mr. Sunday gives Ms converts. Every man, woman and 
child who "hits the trail" is handed a leaflet, telling him 
how to make a success of the Christian life. 

A trumpet call to Christian service by every confessed 
disciple of Jesus Christ is sounded by the evangelist. The 
following is an appeal of this sort: 


The twentieth century has witnessed two apparently 
contradictory facts: The decline of the Church and the 
growth of religious hunger in the masses. The world during 
the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries passed through 
a period of questioning and doubts, during wMch everything 
in heaven and earth was put into a crucible and melted down 
into constituent elements. During that period many laymen 
and preachers lost their moorings. 

The definite challenging note was lost out of the life 
of the ministry. The preacher today is oftentimes a human 
interrogation point, preaching to empty pews. The hurrying, 
busy crowd in the street is saying to the preacher and the 
Church, "When you have something definite to say about 


the issues of life, heaven, hell and salvation, we will listen; 
till then we have no time for you." I believe we are on the 
eve of a great national revival The mission of the Church is 
to carry the gospel of Christ to the world. 

I believe that lack of efficient personal work is one of 
the curses of the Church today. The people of the Church 
are like squirrels in a cage. Lots of activity, but accomplish 
ing nothing. It doesn't require a Christian life to sell oyster 
soup or run a bazaar or a rummage sale. 

Last year many churches reported no new members on 
confession of faith. Why these meager results with this 
tremendous expenditure of energy and money? Why are 
so few people coming into the kingdom? I will tell you 
what is the matter there is not a definite effort put forth 
to persuade a definite person to receive a definite Saviour 
at a definite time, and that definite time is now. 

I tell you the Church of the future must have personal 
work and prayer. The trouble with some churches is that 
they think the preacher is a sort of ecclesiastical locomotive, 
who will snort and puff and pull the whole bunch through 
to glory. 

A politician will work harder to get a vote than the 
-Church of God will work to have men brought to Christ. 
Watch some of the preachers go down the aisles. They drag 
along as if they had grindstones tied to their feet. 

No political campaign is won by any stump speaker or 
any spell-binder on the platform. It is won by a man-to-man 

The Value of Personal Work 

The children of this generation are wiser~tharTthe 'chil 
dren of light. You can learn something from the world about 
how to do things. Personal work is the simplest and most 
effective form of work we can engage in. Andrew wins 
Peter. Peter wins three thousand at Pentecost. A man 
went into a boot and shoe store and talked to the clerk about 
Jesus Christ. He won the clerk to Christ. Do you know who 

A 317 

that young man was? It was Dwight L, Moody, and lie 
went out and won multitudes to Christ. The name of the 
man who won him was Emball, and Kimball will get as 
much reward as Moody. EMball worked to win Moody 
and Moody worked and won the multitude. Andrew wins 
Peter and Peter wins three thousand at Pentecost. That is 
the way God works today, Charles G. Finney, after learn 
ing the name of any man or woman, would invariably ask: 
"-Are you a Christian? " There isn't any one here who hasn't 
drag enough to win somebody to Christ. 

Personal work is a difficult form of work; more difficult 
than preaching, singing, attending conventions, giving your 
goods to feed the poor. The devil will let you have an easy 
time until God asks you to do personal work. It is all right 
while you sing in the choir, but just as soon as you get out 
and work for God the devil will be on your back and you will 
see all the flimsy excuses you can offer for not working for 
the Lord. If you want to play into the hands of the devil 
begin to offer your excuses. 

There are many people who want to win somebody for 
Jesus and they are waiting to be told how to do it. I believe 
there are hundreds and thousands of people who are willing 
to work and who know something must be done, but they 
are waiting for help; I mean men and women of ordinary 
ability. Many people are sick and tired and disgusted with 
just professing religion; they are tired of trotting to church 
and trotting home again. They sit in a pew and listen to a 
sermon ; they are tired of that, not speaking to anybody and 
not engaging in personal work; they are getting tired of it 
and the church is dying because of it. A lot should wake up 
and go to the rescue and win souls for Jesus Christ. 

I want to say to the deacons, stewards, vestrymen, 
prudential committees, that they should work, and the 
place to begin is at your own home. Sit down and write 
the names of five or ten friends, and many of them members 
of your own church, and two or three of those not members 
of any church; yet you mingle with these people in the club, 

318 A 

in business, in your home in a friendly way. You meet 
them every week, some of them every day, and you never 
speak to them on the subject of religion; you never bring 

it to their attention at aU; you should be up and doing 
something for God and God's truth. There are always 
opportunities for a Christian to work for God. There is 
always a chance to speak to some one about God. Where 
you find one that won't care, you'll find one thousand that 

My Fathers Business 

Be out and out for God. Have a heart-to-heart talk 
with some people and win them to Christ. The first re* 
corded words of Jesus are these: "Wist ye not that I must 
be about my Father's business?" 

The trouble is we are too lackadaisical in religion > 
indifferent and dead and lifeless. That is the spirit of the 
committees today in the Church. I think the multitude in 
the Church will have to get converted themselves before they 
can lead any one else to Christ. It is my firm conviction, after 
many years of experience in the work, that half the people 
in the Church have never been converted, have never been 
born again* I take up a bottle of water, uncork it and take 
a drink. That is experimental. One sip of water can con 
vince me more of its power to slake thirst than 40,000 
books written on the subject. You know quinine is bitter 
because you have experimented; you know fire will burn 
because you have experimented; you know ice will freeze; 
it is cold; you have experimented. 

A man must experience religion to know God. All you 
know of God is what you read in some book or what you 
heard somebody else talk about; you haven't lived so that 
you could learn first-handed, so most of your religion is 
second-handed. There is too much second-hand stuff in the 
Church. ^ It is your privilege to know and to have salvation. 
Jesus said to Peter: "When you are converted strengthen 
your brethren." You are not in a position to help anybody 
else unless you have been helped yourself. 


So many church members know nothing about the 
Bible. A preacher will take a text from the Bible and get as 
far from it as the East is from the West. A young preacher 
just out of the seminary said: "Must I confine myself in my 

preaching to the Bible? " Just like a shrimp who would say, 
"Must I confine nay roaming to the Atlantic Ocean? " Ima 
gine a little minnow saying: "Must I confine myself to the 
Atlantic Ocean?" "Must I confine myself to the Bible?" 
Just as if Ms intellect would exhaust it in two or three ser 

We have cut loose from the Bible, and any man who is 
living contrary to the Bible is a sinner, whether he feels 
like a sinner or not. Every man who is living contrary to 
the laws is a criminal, whether he feels like it or not. A 
man who breaks the law of God is a sinner, and is on the road 
to hell, whether he feels like it or Mke a saint. Jesus came 
into the world to reveal God to man, and man reveals him to 
man. The only revelation we have of Jesus is through the 
Bible. You have got to know Jesus to know God; that's 
how I get through there. There is no revelation for God to 
make of himself greater than he has made through Jesus 
Christ. It is not possible for the human intellect to have 
a greater conception of God. Every man needs Christ. 
Jesus is the Saviour that he needs and he has got to know the 
Bible to show what it is that makes Jesus the Saviour. He 
needs a Saviour and now is the time to accept the Saviour 
and be saved. That's what the Bible says. Whatever the 
Bible says, write "finish" after it and stop. 

Feeding the Spiritual Life 

Then you need the Holy Spirit. ' Without him you can 
not do anything. The spirit of God works through clean 
hands. There are too many dirty hands, too many dirty 
people trying to preach a clean gospel. I have known men 
that have preached the truth and God has honored the truth, 
although their lives were not as they should be. But God 
honored the truth and not the people who preached the 


truth. But if they had been Christians themselves then 
God would have honored them more, because he would have 
honored them and the truth. 

Prayer. Three-fourths of the church members have no 
family prayer. They let spiritual life starve. That is the 
reason the pews are full of driftwood; that is the reason that 
religion is but a mirage to many. 

Pray God to give you power. Pray God to give you 
power to carry on his work after you have become converted. 
I don't preach a sermon that I don't pray God for help, and 
I never finish a sermon that I don't thank God that I have 
preached it. Then I say: " Lord, you take care of the seed 
I have sown in that sermon/' I think the Church needs a 
baptism of good, pure " horse sense." 

Pure hearts. If I have any iniquity in my heart the 
Lord will not come in. We need a wise head. We need 
horse sense in preaching. We need horse sense in what we 
do. I think God is constantly looking for a company of 
men and women that are constantly alive. There are too 
many dead ones. He needs men and women that are always 
at it, not only during the revival; we need to be full of faith; 
dead in earnest, never give up, a bulldog tenacity and stick- 
to4t-iveness for the cause of God Almighty. 

The Dignity of Personal Work 

If it is beneath your dignity to do personal work then 
you are above your Master. If you are not willing to do 
what he did, then don't call him your Lord. The servant 
is not greater than the owner of the house. The chauffeur. 
is ntt greater than the owner of the automobile. The ser 
vant oil the railroad is not greater than the owners of the 
road. Certainly they are not greater than our Lord Jesus 

It requires an effort to win souls to Christ. There is 
no harder work and none brings greater results than winning 

You'll need courage. It is hard to do personal work 


the devil will try to oppose yon. You'll seek excuses to try 
to get out of it. Many people who attend the meetings 
regularly now will begin to stay at home when asked to do 
personal work. It will surprise you to see them lie to get 
out of doing personal work. 

We need enthusiasm for God. If there is any place on 
God's earth that needs a baptism of enthusiasm, it is the 
church and the prayer-meetings. It is not popular in some 
communities and in some churches to be enthusiastic for 
God. You'll never accomplish anything without pure en 
thusiasm, and don't be afraid of being a religious enthusiast. 
Religion is too cold. Formality is choking it in the pews. 

There is nothing accomplished in war, politics or religion, 
without enthusiasm. Admiral Decatur once gave this 
toast: "My country: May she always be right, but right 
or wrong, my country!" That's enthusiasm. 

Perseverance is needed to conquer in this old life. Per 
severance is contagious, not an epidemic. Religion is 
contagious. Roman soldiers shortened their swords and 
added to their kingdom. You shorten the distance between 
you and the sinner and you'll add to the kingdom of God. 
The trouble is you have been trying to reach them with a 
ten-foot pole. Drop your dignity and formality and walk 
up to them; take them by the hand. You are too dignified. 
You sit in your fine homes and see the town going to hell. 

We need carefulness to win souls. The way to win 
souls is to be careful what you say. Study the disposition 
of the person with whom you talk. 

We need tact. Personal work is the department of the 
church efficient to deal with the individual and not the masses. 
It is analogous to the sharpshooter in the army so dreaded 
by the opposing forces. The sharpshooter picks out the 
pivotal individual instead of shooting at the mass. The 
preacher shoots with a siege gun at long range. You can 
go to the individual and dispose of his difficulties. I shoot 
out there two or three hundred feet and you sit right beside 
people. If I were a physician and you were sick I'd not 



prescribe en masse, I'd go down and see you individually, 
I'd try to find out what was the matter and prescribe what 
you needed- All medicine is good for something, but not for 


We need sympathy. One of the noblest traits of the 
human character is sympathy. It levels mountains, warms 
the broken heart and melts the iceberg. Have sympathy 
with the sinner. Not with sin, but the fact that he is one. 
God hates sin and the devil He will not compromise. Have 
sympathy with the girl who sins, but not with the sin that 
ruined her. Get down on the ground where the others are. 
You are away up there saved, but you must get down and 
help the sinner. 

Five Classes of People 

There are five classes of people and this classification 
wiH touch every man and woman, whether in Scranton, 
New York or London. 

First, those who can not attend church, and you will 
always find some. Some are sick, shut in; some have to 
work in hotels and restaurants; the maids in your house 
have to get your meals, the railroad men have to go out, the 
furnaces must be kept going in the steel works. 

Second, those who can attend and who do not attend 
church. There a*:e millions of people that can and don't 
attend church. Some fellows never darken the church door 
until they die, and they carry their old carcass in to have 
a large funeral. It is no compliment to any man, and it is 
an insult to manhood, and disgrace to the individual, that he 
never darkens the church door. But he darkens the door of 
the grog shop any day. 

Third, those who can and do attend church and who are 
not moved by the preaching. There are lots of people who 
come out of curiosity. 

Fourth, those who can go to church and those who do go 
to church and are moved by the preaching and convicted 
but not converted. Every man that hears the truth is 


convicted. Talk to those men about Jesus Christ. Get 
them to take their stand for righteousness. 

Fifth, those who can and do go to church and are con 
victed by the preaching and converted. They need strength 
ening. They are converted now, but they need the benefit 
of your experience. You say, "Where will I find these 
people to talk to them?" Where won't you find them? 
Where can you find a place where they are not? You will 
only find one place where they are not and that is in the 
cemetery. Right in your neighborhood, right in your block, 
how many are Christians? Is your husband a Christian? 
Are your children Christians? If they are, let them alone 
and get after somebody else's husband and children. Don't 
sit down and thank God that your husband and children are 
Christians. Suppose I were to say : "My family, my George, 
my Nell, my Paul, my Helen are Christians!" We are all 
Christians, let the rest of the world go to the devil. There 
is too much of that spirit in the Church today. 

Go from house to house. Go to the people in your 
block, in your place of business. Have you said anything 
to the telephone girl when you called her up? You are quick 
enough to jump on her when she gives you the wrong num 
ber. Have you said anything to the delivery boy to the 
butcher? Have you asked the milkman? Have you said 
anything to the newsboy who throws your paper on the 
doorstep at night? Have you called them up at the news 
paper office? Have you said anything to the girl who waits 
on you at the store; to the servant who brings your dinner in 
at home; to the woman who scrubs your floors? Where will 
you find them? where won't you find them? 

The Privilege of Personal Work 

Personal work is a great privilege. Not that God needs 
us, but that we need him. Jesus Christ worked. "I must 
do the works of Him that sent me." So must you. He 
didn't send me to work and you to loaf. Honor the God that 
gives you the privilege to do what he wants. Jesus worked. 


Please God and see how it will delight your soul If 
you'll win a soul you will have a blessing that the average 
church member knows nothing about. They are absolute 
strangers to the higher Christian Hfe. We need an aroused 
church. An anxious church makes anxious sinners. 

If all the Methodist preachers would each save a soul 
a month there would be 460,000 souls saved in a year. If 
all the Baptist preachers would each save a soul a month 
there would be 426,000 souls saved in a year. If all the other 
evangelical preachers would save a soul a month there would 

be 1,425,000 souls 
saved a year. Over 
7,000 Protestant 
churches recently 
f*"\inade report of no 
accessions on con 
fession of faith. 
Christ said to preach 
the gospel to all the 
world and that 
means every crea 
ture in the world. 

Listen to this: 
There are 13,000,000 
young men in this 
J * MY GOD, I'VE GOT Two BOYS DOWN THEEE ! " country between the 

ages of sixteen and 

thirty years; 12,000,000 are not members of any church, 
Protestant or Catholic; 5,000,000 of them go to church 
occasionally; 7,000,000 never darken a church door from one 
year's end to another. They fill the saloons and the houses of 
ill fame, the haunts of vice and corruption, and yet most 
young men have been touched by some Sunday-school in 
fluences; but you don't win them for God and they go 
into the world never won for God. 

I want to tell you if you want to solve the problem for 
the future get hold of the young men now. Get them for 


God now. Save your boys and girls. Save the young man 
and woman and you launch, a life-boat. 

At the Iroquois fire in Chicago six hundred people were 
burned to death. One young woman about seventeen years 
of age fought through the crowd, but her hair was singed 
from her head, her clothes were burned, her face blistered. 
She got on a street car to go to her home in Oak Park. She 
was wringing her hands and crying hysterically, and a 
woman said to her: "Why, you ought to be thankful yon 
escaped with your life." 

"I escaped but I didn't save anybody; there are 
hundreds that died. To think that I escaped and didn't 
save anybody." 

In Pennsylvania there was once a mine explosion, and 
the people were rushing there to help. Up came an old 
miner seventy or eighty years of age, tired, tottering and 
exhausted. He threw off his vest, his coat and hat and picked 
up a pick and shovel Some of them stopped him and said: 
"What is the matter? You are too old; let some of the 
younger ones do that. Stand back." 

The old fellow said: "My God, I've got two boys down 

So you see it seems to make all the difference when 
you've got some boy down there. 

Who is wise? You say Andrew Carnegie, the million 
aire, is wise, the mayor, the judge, the governor, the educator, 
the superintendent of schools, the principal of the high 
school, the people who don't worry or don't live for pleasure, 
the inventor. But what does the Lord say? The Lord 
says, "He who winneth souls is wise." 

"A Good Soldier of Jesus Christ" 

I'd ratter undertake to save ten drunkards than one old financial Shy- 
lock it would be easier. BILLY SUNDAY. 

SYMPATHETIC observers comment in distressed 
tones upon the physical exhaustion of Sunday after 
every one of his addresses. He speaks with such 
intensity and vigor that he is completely spent by every 
effort. To one who does not know that he has worked at 
this terrific pace for near a score of years it seems as if the 
evangelist is on the verge of a complete collapse. He 
certainly seems to speak "as a dying man to dying men." 
The uttermost ounce of his energy is offered up to each 
audience. Billy Sunday is an unsparing worker. 

For a month or six weeks of every year he gives him 
self to rest. The remainder of the year he is under a strain 
more intense than that of a great political campaign. 
Even his Monday rest day, which is supposed to be devoted 
to recuperation, is oftener than not given to holding special 
meetings in some other city than the one wherein he is 
campaigning. Speaking twice or oftener every day, to 
audiences averaging many thousands, is a tax upon one's 
nerve force and vitality beyond all computation. In addi 
tion to this, Sunday has his administrative work, with 
its many perplexities and grave responsibilities. 

Withal, the evangelist, like every other man pre 
eminent in his calling, suffers a great loneliness; he has 
few intimates who can lead his mind apart from his work. 
What says Kipling, in his "Song of Diego Valdez," the 
lord high admiral of Spain, who pined in vain for the com 
radeship of his old companions, but who, in the aloneness 
of eminence; mourned his solitary state? 

"They sold Diego Valdez 
To bondage of great deeds/ 1 



The computable aggregate of Sunday's work is almost 
unbelievable. His associates say that his converts number 
about three hundred thousand persons. That is a greater 
total than the whole membership of the entire Christian 
Church, decades after the resurrection of our Lord. Imagine 
a city of a quarter of a million inhabitants, every one of 
whom was a zealous disciple of Jesus Christ. What a 
procession these 'Hrail-hitters'' would make could they 
all be gathered into one great campaign parade! > 

Of course these converts are not all trophies of Billy 
Sunday's preaching power. He has not won them alone. 
He has merely stood in the forefront, as the agent of the 
Church, with vast co-operative forces behind Mm. Never 
theless, he has been the occasion and the instrument for 
this huge accomplishment in the Church's conquest. 

When it comes to counting up the aggregate size of 
Sunday's audiences, one is tempted not to believe bis own 
figures, for the total runs up into the millions, and even the 
tens of millions. Probably no living man has spoken to 
so great numbers of human beings as Billy Sunday. 

More eloquent than any comment upon the magnitude 
and number of his meetings is the following summary of 
his campaigns gathered from various sources. Sunday him 
self does not keep records of his work. His motto seems to 
be, "Forgetting those things which are behind." 

In 1904^5 Billy Sunday visited various cities of Illinois, 
where conversions ranged in numbers from 650 to 1,800; in 
Iowa, where conversions ranged from 400 to 1,000; and in a 
few other towns. In 1905-6 numerous campaigns in Illinois, 
Iowa and Minnesota produced converts ranging from 550 
to 2,400, the highest number being reached in BurHngtoif, 
Iowa. In 1906-7 the converts numbered over 12,000, with 
a maximum of 3,000 in Kewanee, Illinois. In 1907-8 cam 
paigns in Illinois and Iowa, and one in Sharon, Pennsylvania, 
reported over 24,000 converts in all, with a maximum of 
6,700 in Decatur, Illinois. In 1908-9 the total number of 
converts reached over 18,000, with 5,300 in Spokane, Wash- 


Ington, and 4,700 in Springfield, Illinois. In 1908-5 cam 
paigns in various cities reported a total of 35,000 converts, 
with 6,600 in Newcastle, Pennsylvania, 5,900 in Youngs- 
town, Ohio, and 5,000 in Danville, Illinois, In 1911-12 
campaigns in cities of Ohio, in Erie, Pennsylvania, and in 
Wichita, Kansas, reported a total of 36,000 converts, with 
7,600 in Toledo, and 6,800 in Springfield. In 1912-13 
campaigns in other Ohio and Pennsylvania cities and in 
Fargo, North Dakota; South Bend, Indiana; and Wheeling, 
West Virginia, brought 81,000 converts, with a minimum in 
Fargo of 4,000, and a maximum of 18,000 in Columbus. 

The following table gives statistics for some of the 
cities in which campaigns have resulted in more than five 
thousand conversions: 

Population Conversions 

Philadelphia 1,500,000 41,724 

Pittsburgh, Pa 533,905 26,601 

Columbus, Ohio 181,511 18,137 

Scranton 150,000 18,000 

Wilkes-Barre, Pa 67,105 16,584 

Johnstown, Pa 55,482 11,829 

Des Moines 100,000 10,200 

McKeesport, Pa 42,694 10,022 

Wheeling, W. Va 41,641 8,300 

Denver 245,423 8,100 

Steubenville, Ohio 22,391 7,888 

Toledo, Ohio 168,497 7,686 

Springfield, Ohio 46,921 6,804 

Newcastle, Pa 36,280 6,683 

South Bend, Ind 53,684 6,398 

East Liverpool, Ohio 20,387 6,354 

Beaver Falls, Pa 12,191 6,000 

Youngstown, Ohio 79,066 5,915 

Huntington, W. Va 31,161 5,812 

Lima, Ohio 30,508 5,659 

Canton, Ohio 50,217 5,640 

Erie, Pa 66,525 5,312 

Portsmouth, Ohio 23,481 5,224 

Total for this group of cities 3,559,070 250,872 


\Vllkes-Baire ? s 16,000 conversions bore an extraordinary 
relation to the population of the city, which is but 67,105. 

Prior to the Sunday campaign in Steubenville, Ohio, 
September and October, 1913 (where the converts numbered 
8,000), the town had gone "wet" by 1,400 majority; after 
the meetings it went "dry" by 300 majority. 

Johnstown, Pennsylvania, with a campaign held Novem 
ber and December, 1913, reported 12,000 conversions, and 
a Billy Sunday Anti-saloon League of 10,000 men. The 
fame of the Pittsburgh campaign, January and February, 
1914, is in all the churches; 27,000 converts were reported. 

Mrs. Sunday is my authority for these and the following 
details of recent meetings: 

The Scranton campaign (March and April, 1914) was 
unusual in several respects. It not only reported 18,000 
converts, but it also held the greatest industrial parade, 
under distinctively Christian auspices, that the country has 
ever seen. 

During 1914 the evangelist also worked in Huntington, 
W. Va.; in Colorado Springs, in Denver, and in Des Moines, 
all successful meetings. 

Concerning the Philadelphia meetings, during the first 
quarter of 1915, it is difficult to speak with moderation, for 
they, above anything else this generation has known; have 
made the Gospel a vital national isgue. 

As a physical feat, the preaching of an average of two 
sermons a day, each an hour long and to fifteen thousand 
persons, f or < seventy-eight days, is probably without parallel 
in the history of public speaking. Sunday literally was the 
dominant theme of the city's conversation and interest. 

From one service twenty thousand persons were turned 
away, unable to gain admission. The requests for delega 
tion reservations in a single day totaled 129,000 persons. 

Eleven hundred cases, mostly of fainting, were treated 
in the Tabernacle hospital; five thousand babies were cared 
for in the nursery. 

The demand for Bibles was so great that one newspaper 


sold an average of five hundred Bibles a day during the 
campaign. Fifty thousand men were added to the Bible 
classes of Philadelphia. 

In reading such a compilation as the foregoing, it is to 

be remembered that in all things that affect spiritual values 
the only true record is that which is kept in another world. 


"I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of 
God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, 
acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service." 

The armies of God are never made up of drafted men 
and women, ordered into service whether willing or not. God 
never owned a slave. God doesn't want you to do anything 
that you can't do without protest. This is not a call to hard 
duty, but an invitation to the enjoyment of a privilege. It 
is not a call to hired labor to take the hoe and go into the field, 
but the appeal of a loving father to his children to partake 
of all he has to give. 

If there is nothing in you that will respond to God's 
appeal when you think of his mercies, I don't think much of 
you. The impelling motive of my text is gratitude, not fear. 
It looks to Calvary, not to Sinai. We are being entreated, 
not threatened. That's the amazing thing to me. To 
think that God would entreat us would stand to entreat us ! 
He is giving me a chance to show I love him. 

If you are not ready to offer it in gratitude, God 
doesn't want you to serve him through fear, but because 
you realize his love for you, and appreciate and respond 
to it. 

A business man who loves his wife will never be too 
busy to do something for her, never too busy to stop some 
times to think of how good she has been and what she has 
done for him. If men would only think of the things God 
has done for them there would be less card-playing, less 
thought of dinners and of concerts and other diversions of 
the world. God wants us to sit down and think over his 


goodness to us. The man who doesn't isn't worth a nickel 
a punch. Has God done anything for us as a nation, has he 
done anything for us as individuals, that commands our 

Astronomers have counted three hundred and eighty 
million stars, and they have barely commenced. Why, you 
might as well try to count those countless stars as to try to 
count God's mercies. You might as well try to count the 
drops of water in the sea or the grains of sand upon the 
shore. If we only think, we shall say with David : " Accord 
ing to Thy tender mercies." 

God's Mercies 

An old lady said one morning that she would try to 
count all God's mercies for that one day, but at noon she 
was becoming confused, and at three o'clock she threw up 
her hands and said: "They come three times too fast for 
me to count." 

Just think of the things we have to be thankful for! A 
visitor to an insane asylum was walking through the grounds 
and as he passed one of the buildings he heard a voice from a 
barred window high up in the wall and it said: " Stranger, 
did you ever thank God for your reason?" He had never 
thought of that before, but he says that he has thought of it 
every day since. Did you ever think that thousands of 
people who were just as good as you are, are beating their 
heads against the walls of padded cells? Did you ever think 
what a blessed thing it is that you are sane and you go about 
among men and follow your daily duties, and go home to 
be greeted by your wife and have your children climb about 

Did you ever thank God for your eyes? Did you ever 
thank him that you can see the sunrise and the sunset and 
can see the flowers and the trees and look upon the storm? 
Did you ever thank God that you have two good eyes while 
so many others less fortunate than you must grope their way 
in blindness to the coffin? 


Did you ever thank God for hearing? That you can 
hear music and the voices of friends and dear ones? That 
you can leave your home and business, and come here and 
hear the songs and the preaching of the word of God? Did 
you ever think what it would mean to be deaf? 

Did you ever thank God for the blessing of taste? 
Some people can't tell whether they are eating sawdust and 
shavings or strawberries and ice cream. Think of the good 
things we enjoy ! Others have tastes so vicious that they find 
it almost impossible to eat. God might have made our food 
taste like quinine. 

Did you ever thank God that you can sleep? If not, 
you ought to be kept awake for a month. Think of the 
thousands who suffer from pain or insomnia so that they can 
sleep only under opiates. Did you ever wake up in the 
morning and thank God that you have had a good night's 
rest? If you haven't, God ought to keep you awake for a 
week, then you'd know you've had reason to be thankful. 

Did you ever thank God for the doctors and nurses and 
hospitals? For the surgeon who comes with scalpel to save 
your life or relieve your sufferings? If it had not been for 
them you'd be under the grass. For the nurse who watches 
over you that you may be restored to health? 

Did you ever thank God for the bread you eat, while so 
many others are hungry? Did you ever thank him for the 
enemy that has been baffled, for the lie against you that has 

Out in Elgin, Illinois, I was taken driving by a friend, 
and he said that he wanted me to go with him to see a man. 
He took me to see a man who was lying in bed, with arms 
most pitifully wasted by suffering. The poor fellow said he 
had been in bed for thirty-two years, but he wasn't worrying 
about that. He said he was so sorry for the well people who 
didn't know Jesus, I went out thanking God that I could 
walk. If your hearts are not made of stone or adamant 
they will melt with gratitude when you think of the many 
mercies, the tender mercies! of God 


The Living Sacrifice 

" Brethren "that's what God calls Ms true followers. 
No speaking from the loft. If there's any lesson we need to 
learn it is that of being "brethren." 

Sinners are not called " brethren" in the Bible. God 
commands sinners. They are in rebellion. He entreats 
Christians. When Lincoln called for volunteers he addressed 
men as "citizens of the United States," not as foreigners. 

The man who is appreciative of God's mercies will not 
have much mercy on himself. Don't stand up and say: 
"I'll do what Jesus bids me to do, and go where he bids me to 
go," then go to bed. Present your bodies not mine not 
those of your wives; you must present your own. Present 
your bodies; not your neighbor's; not your children's; it 
is their duty to do that. Do you trust God enough to let 
him do what he wants to do? 

Henry Varley said to Moody, when that great American 
was in England, that God is waiting to show this world what 
one man could do for him. Moody said: "Varley, by the 
grace of God I'll be that man"; and God took hold of 
Moody and shook the world with him. God would shake the 
world with us today if only we would present our bodies as 
a living sacrifice to him, as Moody did. Are you willing to 
present yourself? I am tired of a church of five hundred or 
seven hundred members without power enough to bring one 
soul to Christ. 

At the opening of the Civil War many a man was willing 
that the country should be saved by able-bodied male 
relatives of his wife, who made themselves bullet-men, but 
he didn't go himself. God isn't asking for other men's 
bodies. He's asking for yours. If you would all give to 
God what rightfully belongs to him, I tell you he would 
create a commotion on earth and in hell. If God had the 
feet of some of you he would point your toes in different ways 
from those you have been going for many years. If he had 
your feet he would never head you into a booze joint. If 
he had your feet he would never send you into a ball-room* 


If he had the feet of some of you he would make you weat 
out shoe leather lugging back what you've taken that 
doesn't belong to you. If God had your feet he would take 
you to prayer-meeting, I'm afraid the preacher would have 
nervous prostration,, for he hasn't seen some of you there 
in years. If Gocf had your feet you'd find it harder to follow 
the devil. Some of you preachers have your children going 
to dancing school and I hear some of you go to dances. He 
would make your daily walk conform to the Golden Rule and 
the Sermon on the Mount. 

Some people work only with their mouths. God wants 
that part that's on the ground. Some soldiers sit around 
and smell the coffee and watch the bacon frying. 

If God had your hands he would make you let go a lot 
of things you hold on to with a death-like grip. If you don't 
let go of some of the things you hold so tightly they will 
drag you down to hell. He would have you let go some of the 
things you pay taxes on, but don't own, and he would make 
you let go of money to pay taxes on some that you do own. 
Some people are so busy muck-raking that they will lose 
a crown of glory hereafter. If God had your hands, how 
many countless tears you would wash away. A friend of 
mine bought a typewriter, and when he tried to use it his 
fingers seemed to be all sticks, but now he can write forty- 
five words a minute. Let God have your hands and he will 
make them do things that would make the angels wonder 
and applaud. 

A Glass of Champagne 

A young man went down to ThomasviUe, Alabama, and 
while there was invited to a dress ball or rather an undress 
ball, if what I have read about such affairs properly describes 
the uniforms. A young lady & young lady with eyes like 
the dove and with beautiful tresses came up to him and 
said to the young man, "Won't you pledge a glass of cham 
pagne with me?" 

The young man thanked her, but said: "No, I don't 


" Not with me? " she said, and smiled; and he repeated 
his answer, "No." 

Then she said: "If I had thought you would refuse me 
I would not have asked you and exposed myself to the 
embarrassment of a refusal. I did not suppose you would 
think me bold for speaking to you in this way, and I thought 
you might be lonely/' 

A little later she came back to him and repeated her 
invitation. Again he said: "No." 

Others came up and laughed. He took it and hesitated, 
She smiled at him and he gave in and drank the champagne, 
then drank another glass and another, until he was flushed 
with it. Then he danced. 

At two o'clock the next morning a man with a linen 
duster over his other clothes walked back upon the railroad- 
station platform, waiting for a train for the North; and as he 
walked he would exclaim, "Oh God!' 7 and would pull a 
pint flask from his pocket and drink. "My God, 7 ' he would 
say, "what will mother say?' 7 Four months later in his 
home in Vermont, with his weeping parents by him and with 
four strong men to hold him down, he died of delirium 

The Epworth League's motto is: "Look up, lift up.' 7 
But you'll never lift much up unless God has hold of your 
hands. Unless he has, you will never put your hands deep 
in your pocket, up to the elbows, and bring them up full of 
money for his cause. A man who was about to be baptized 
took out his watch and laid it aside; then he took out his 
knife and bank-book and laid them aside. 

"Better give me your pocket-book to put aside for you," 
said the minister. 

"No, 77 said the man, "I want it to be baptized, too.' 7 

There's no such thing as a bargain-counter religion. 
Pure and undefiled religion will do more when God has 
something besides pennies to work with. God doesn't run 
any excursions to heaven. You must pay the full fare. 
Your religion is worth just what it cost you. If you get 


religion and then lie down and go to sleep, your joints will 
get stiff as Rip Van Winkle's did, and you'll never win the 
religious marathon. 

Denying One's Self 

A man said to his wife that he had heard the preacher 
say that religion is worth just what it costs, and that he had 
determined to give more for religion and to deny himself as 
well. " What will you give up?" she asked. He said that 
he would give up coffee for he dearly loved coffee used to 
drink several cups at every meal, the very best. She said 
that she would give up something, too that she would give 
up tea. Then their daughter said she would give up some 
of her little pleasures, and the father turned to his son Tom, 
who was shoveling mashed potatoes, covered with chicken 
gravy, into his mouth. He said, "I'll give up salt mackerel. 
I never did like the stuff, anyway." 

There are too many salt-mackerel people like that in the 
pews of our churches today. They will take something that 
they don't like, and that nobody else will have, and give it to 
the Lord. That isn't enough for God. He wants the best 
we have. 

God wants your body with blood in it. Cain's altar 
was bigger than Abel's, but it had nothing valuable on it, 
while Abel's had real blood. God rejected Cain's and ac 
cepted Abel's. God turns down the man who merely lives 
a moral life and does not accept the religion of Jesus Christ. 
You must come with Jesus' blood. How thankful you are 
depends on how much you are willing to sacrifice. 

I don't believe that the most honored angel in heaven 
has such a chance as we have. Angels can't suffer. They 
can't make sacrifices. They can claim that they love God, 
but we can prove it. 

What would you think of a soldier if when he was 
ordered "Present arms/' he would answer, "Tomorrow"; 
if he would say, "When the man next to me does"; if he 
would say, "When I get a new uniform " ? "Present' ' that 


means now. It is in the present tense. God wants us to 
make a present of our bodies to him because we love him. 

A little girl showed a man some presents she had received 
and he asked her, "How long may you keep them?" 

"How long?" she answered. "Why, they were given 
to me. They are mine!" 

Many a man gives his boy a colt or a calf, then when it 
has grown to a horse or a cow he sells it and pockets the 
money. Some of you fellows need to do a little thinking 
along that line. When we give our bodies, they ought to be 
His for keeps. 

Thinking for God 

If when you make a present you do not mean to give 
it outright, you are not honest. "Will a man rob God?" 
You bet he will a heap quicker than he will rob any one 

Your body, that takes the head as well as hands. God 
wants brains as well as bones and muscles. We ought to do 
our best thinking for God. God is in the greatest business 
there is, and he wants the best help he can get. Some of you 
old deacons and elders make me sick. If you used such 
methods in business as you do in the work of the Church the 
sheriff's sale flag would soon be hanging outside your door. 
I don't ask any of you business men to curtail any of your 
business activities, but I do ask that you give more of your 
energy to the things of religion. You want to use good 
business methods in religion. The Republicans and the 
Democrats and the Socialists use good business methods 
in politics. The farmer who hasn't any sense is still plowing 
with a forked stick. The farmer who has sense uses a 
modern plow. Use common sense. 

Bishop Taylor promised God that he would do as much 
hard thinking and planning for him as he would do for 
another man for money. He did it. So did Wesley and 
Whitefield and Savonarola, and look what they did for God! 
If there is any better way of doing God's business than there 



was one hundred years ago, for God's sake do it! He's 
entitled to the best there is. This thing of just ringing the 
church bell to get people to come in is about played out. In 
business, if they have a machine that is out of date and 
doesn't produce good results, it goes onto the scrap heap. 
If a man can produce a machine that can enlarge the product 
or better it, that machine is adopted at once. But in religion 
we have the same old flint-lock guns, smooth-bore; the same 
old dips and tallow candles; the same old stage coaches over 
corduroy roads; and if a protest is made some of you will 
roll your eyes as if you had on a hair shirt, and say : "Surely 
this is not the Lord's set time for work." I tell you any time 
is God's time. Now is God's time. It was God's time to 
teach us about electricity long before Franklin discovered it, 
but nobody had sense enough to learn. 

It was God's time to give us the electric light long before 
Edison invented it, but nobody had sense enough to under 
stand it. It was God's set time to give us the steam engine 
long before Watts watched the kettle boil and saw it puff the 
lid off, but nobody had sense enough to grasp the idea. 

If God Almighty only had possession of your mouths, 
he'd stop your lying. If he had your mouths he'd stop your 
knocking. If he had your mouths, he'd stop your misrep 
resentations. If he had your mouths, he'd stop your swear 
ing. If he had your mouths, he'd stop your back-biting. 
If he had your mouths, he'd stop your slanders. There 
would be no criticizing, no white lies, no black lies, no social 
lies, no talking behind backs. 

If God had your mouths, so much money wouldn't go 
up in tobacco smoke or out in tobacco spit. If God had your 
mouths, there would be no thousands of dollars a year spent 
for whisky, beer and wine. You wouldn't give so much to 
the devil and you would give more to the Church. Many of 
you church pillars wouldn't be so noisy in politics and so 
quiet in religion. So many of you fellows wouldn't yell like 
Comanche Indians at a ratification meeting and sit like a 
bump on a log in prayer-meeting. 


If God had our eyes he'd bring the millennltim. His 
eyes ran to and fro through the world seeking for men to 
serve him; and if he had our eyes, how our eyes would run 
to and fro looking for ways to help bring men to Christ. How 
hard it would be for sinners to get away. We would be look 
ing for drunkards, and the prostitutes and down-and-outs, 
to lift and save them. How many sorrowful hearts we would 
find and soothe, how many griefs we would alleviate! Great 
God ! How little you are doing. Don't you feel ashamed? 
Aren't you looking for a knot-hole to crawl through? If 
God had our eyes how many would stop looking at a lot of 
things that make us proud and unclean and selfish and 
critical and unchristian 

What God Asks 

God wants you to give your body. Are you afraid to 
give it to him? Are you afraid of the doctor when you are 
sick? Your body that thing that sits out there in the seat, 
that thing that sits up there in the choir and sings, that 
thing that sits there and writes editorials, that body which 
can show Jesus Christ to fallen sons of Adam better than any 
angel that's what God wants. God wants you to bring it 
to him and say: f( TBk^ y J^djj^^gwB^ y If he had your 
body, dissipation, overeatSig' and undersleeping would stop, 
for the body is holy ground. We dare not abuse it. 

A friend of mine paid $10,000 for a horse. He put him 
in a stable and there the animal had care-takers attending 
him day and night, who rubbed him down, and watched his 
feet to take care that they should not be injured, and put 
mosquito netting on the windows, and cooled him with 
electric fans, and sprinkled his oats and his hay. They 
wanted to keep him in shape, for he was worth $10,000 and 
they wanted him for the race-track. Give your body to God, 
and the devil will be welcome to anything he can find. 

God wants jour body ^ahvi^sacrifice^not a, dead one. 
There"^Jeloo^a^^ead ones. A time" was wEen IGKxTwas 
satisfied with a dead sacrifice. Under old Jewish law a dead 


sheep would do. He, wants my body now when Fm alive 
and not when I am dead and the undertaker is waiting to 
carry it out to the cemetery. The day of that dispensation 
is past, and now he wants you, a living_sacrifice, a real 
sacrifice. A traveling man who wants to maleTB^wife a 
present, and sits up all night in the train instead of taking a 
berth for three dollars and uses the three 
dollars to buy a present for his wife, 
makes a real sacrifice for her. There 
never was a victory without sacrifice. 
Socrates aHvanced TEe docfnne^"ftSamor-' 
tality and died with a cup of poisoned 
hemlock. Jesus Christ paid with a crown 
of thorns. Abraham Lincoln paid with a 
bullet in his body. If you mean to give 
yourself as a sacrifice to God, get out and 
work for him. Ask men to come to him. 
"A holy sacrifice." Some men shy 
at that word "holy" like a horse at an 
automobile. Holy vessels were set apart 
for use in the worship of God. To be holy 
is to be set apart for God's use that's all. 
To be holy isn't to be long-faced and never 

"Acceptable unto the Lord." If 
that were true then this old desert would 
blossom like Eden. If that were taken 
as our watchword, what a stampede of 
short yardsticks, shrunken measures, 
light weights, adulterated foods, etc., 
there would be! 
What a stopping of the hitting up of booze! There 
would be no more living in sin and keeping somebody on the 
side, no more of you old deacons corning down the aisles 
stroking your whiskers and renting your buildings for houses 
of ill fame, and newspapers would stop carrying ads for 
whisky and beer. 

u No MOBB OF Yotr 



Reasonable Service 

a Your reasonable service." God never asks anything 
unreasonable. He is never exacting. He only asks rights 
when he asks you to forsake sin. A man must be an idiot 
if he does not see that man is unreasonable when unright 
eous. God never made a law to govern you that you wouldn't 
have made if you had known as much as God knows. You 
don't know that much and never can, so the only sensible 
thing to do is to obey God's laws. Faith never asks expla 

God asks some things that are hard, but never any that 
are unreasonable. I beseech you, brethren. It was hard 
for Abraham to take his son up on the mountain and prepare 
to offer him up as a sacrifice to God, but God had a reason. 
Abraham understands tonight, and Abraham is satisfied. 
It was hard for Joseph to be torn from his own people and 
to be sold into Egypt and to be lied about by that miserable 
woman, torn from his mother and father, but God had a 
reason. Joseph knows tonight, and Joseph is satisfied. It 
was hard for Moses to lead the Jews from Egypt, following 
the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night and make 
that crossing of the Red Sea, only to have God call him up to 
Mount Pisgah and show him the Promised Land and say: 
"Moses, you can't go in." It was hard, but God had a 
reason. Moses understands tonight, and Moses is satisfied. 
It was hard for Job to lose his children and all that he pos 
sessed and to be afflicted with boils, and to be so miserable 
that only his wife remained with him. But God had a 
reason. Job understands tonight, and Job is satisfied. 

It was a hard thing God asked of Saul of Tarsus to bear 
witness to him at Rome and Ephesus, to face those jeering 
heathen, to suffer imprisonment and be beaten with forty 
stripes save one, and finally to put his head on the block and 
have it severed by the order of old Nero, but God had a 
reason. Paul understands tonight, and Paul is satisfied. 
It was a hard thing God asked of Jesus to leave the songs 
of the angels and the presence of the redeemed and glorified 


and come down to earth and be born amid the malodors of a 
stable, and be forced to flee from post to post, and dispute 
with the learned doctors in the temple at twelve years of age 
and confute them, and to still the storm and the troubled 
waters, and to say to the blind, "Be whole," and finally 
to be betrayed by one of his own followers and to be murdered 
through a conspiracy of Jews and Gentiles; but now he sits 
on the throne with the Father, awaiting the time to judge 
the world, Jesus understands and Jesus is satisfied. 

It was a hard thing for me when God told me to leave 
home and go out into the world to preach the gospel and be 
villified and libeled and have my life threatened and be 
denounced, but when my time comes, when I have preached 
my last sermon, and I can go home to God and the Lamb, 
hell say, "Bill, this was the reason." I'll know what it all 
meant, and I'll say "Fin satisfied, God, I'm satisfied." 


A Wonderful Day at a Great University 

The higher you climb the plainer you are seen. BILLY SUNDAY. 

BILLY SUNDAY has had many great days in Ms 
life mountain-top experiences of triumphant service; 
exalted occasions when it would seem that the 
climax of his ministry had been reached. Doubtless, 
though, the greatest day of his crowded life was the 
thirtieth of March, 1914, which he spent with the students 
of the University of Pennsylvania at Philadelphia. 

The interest not alone of a great university but also of 
a great city was concentrated upon him on this occasion. 
An imposing group of discriminating folk took the oppor 
tunity to judge the much discussed evangelist and his 
work. In this respect, the day may be said to have proved 
a turning point in the public career of the evangelist. It 
silenced much of the widespread criticism which had been 
directed toward him up to this time; and it won for him 
the encomiums of a host of intellectual leaders. 

What Sunday's own impressions of that day were may 
be understood from the prayer he offered at the close of the 
night meeting. 

Oh, Jesus, isn't this a fine bunch? Did you ever look 
down on a finer crowd? I don't believe there is a mother 
who is any prouder of this lot of boys than I am tonight. 
I have never preached to a more appreciative crowd, and if 
I never preach another sermon, I am willing to go home to 
glory tonight, knowing that I have helped save the boys at 
the University of Pennsylvania. Help them to put aside 
temptations, and to follow in the paths in which Doctor 
Smith is trying to guide their feet. 

Back of the visit of the evangelist to the University 
lies a story, and a great principle. The latter is that mate- 



rialism has no message for the human soul or character. 
The authorities of the University, in common with a wide 
public, had been deeply disturbed over the suicide of 
several students during the winter of 1913-14. Sensational 
stories, largely unwarranted, in the daily press had reported 
an epidemic of suicides, due to infidelity. 

Underneath all this "yellow" portrayal of conditions 
lay the truth, realized by nobody more clearly than by 
the University head, Provost Edgar Fahs Smith, that the 
character of young manhood needs to be fortified by 
spiritual ideals. In his r61e of religious leader of the Uni 
versity, and counselor to the young men, Provost Smith 
had heard confessions of personal problems which had 
wrung his soul None knew better than he that it takes 
more than culture to help a man win the battle of life. 
Looking in every direction for succor in this deepest of all 
problems, the sight of Billy Sunday at Scranton indicated 
a possible ray of hope. 

Led by Thomas S. Evans, the secretary of the Chris 
tian Association of the University, a deputation of student 
leaders went to Scranton, heard the evangelist, and con 
veyed to him an invitation to spend a day with the Uni 
versity. The call of the need of young men in particular 
is irresistible to Sunday, and he gladly accepted the invita 
tion for a day in Philadelphia going, it may be added 
parenthetically, entirely at his own expense, and insisting 
that the offering made be devoted to University Christian 
Association work. 

There is a thorough organization of the Christian work 
of the University; so careful plans were laid for the visit 
of the evangelist. The meetings were made the subject of 
student prayer groups, and all that forethought could do 
to secure the smooth running of the day's services was 
carefully attended to. Students were to be admitted by 
their registration cards, and a few hundred other guests, 
mostly ministers and persons identified with the University, 
were given special admission cards. 


There is no such rash for grand opera tickets in Phila 
delphia as was experienced for these coveted cards of 
admission to the Billy Sunday meetings at the University. 
The noon meeting and the night meetings were exclusively 
for men, but in the afternoon a few score favored women 
were admitted. The result was that in these three services 
the evangelist talked to representatives of the best life of 
the conservative old city of Philadelphia. He never before 
had faced so much concentrated culture as was represented 
that day within the walls of the great gymnasium. 

This improvised auditorium could be made to hold 
about three thousand persons, especially when the hearers 
were students, and skilful in crowding and utilizing every 
inch of space, such as window sills and rafters. The Hne 
of ticket holders that gathered before the opening of the 
doors itself preached a sermon to the whole city. As one 
of the Philadelphia newspapers remarked, in the title it 
gave to a section of its whole page of Billy Sunday pictures, 
" Wouldn't think they were striving for admittance to a 
religious service, would you?" The newspapers, by pen 
and camera, chronicled this Billy Sunday day at the Uni 
versity as the city's most important news for that issue. 

The evangelist's chorister, Homer Rodeheaver, led 
the introductory service of music. He set the college 
boys to singing and whistling familiar gospel hymns, and 
Mrs. De Armond's "If Your Heart Keeps Right" a 
refrain which was heard for many weeks afterward in Uni 
versity corridors and campus. 

From the first the students, than whom there are no 
more critical hearers alive, were won by Billy Sunday. 
Provost Smith, who has the men's hearts, introduced him 
in this happy fashion: 

"Billy Sunday is a friend of men. He is a friend of 
yours and a friend of mine, and that's why we are glad to 
have him here today to tell us about his other friend, Jesus 
Christ. His is the spirit of friendship, and we are glad to 
extend to him our fellowship while we have the opportunity." 


The three addresses given on that day were "What 
Shall I Do with Jesus?" "Real Manhood/' and "Hot-cakes 
off the Griddle." 

These fragments of the three addresses culled from 
the newspaper reports give the flavor of the messages heard 
by the students : 

"What shall I do with Jesus?" 

"This question is just as pertinent to the world today 
as it was to Pilate/' he said. "Pilate had many things to 
encourage and discourage him, but no man ever sought 
to do anything without meeting difficulties. 

" Pilate should have been influenced by his wife's dream/' 
the speaker continued, whimsically suggesting that he 
didn't care what sort of wife Pilate had. "She may have 
been one of those miserable, pliable, plastic, two-faced, two- 
by-four, lick-spittle, toot-my-own-horn sort of women, but 
Pilate should have heeded her warning and set Jesus free/' 
he asserted. 

"Pilate had the personality of Jesus before him and 
should have been influenced by this. He had also heard 
of the miracles of Jesus, even if he had never seen them. 

"Why, Jesus was cussed and discussed from one end 
of the land to the other. All he had to do was to say 
'Come forth/ and the graves opened like chestnut burrs 
in the fall," he added. 

"I have no use for the fellow that sneers and mocks at 
Jesus Christ. If the world is against Christ, I am against 
the world, with every tooth, nail, bit of skin, hair follicle, 
muscular molecule, articulation joint" here the evangelist 
paused for breath before adding "yes, and even my 
vermiform appendix. 

"But Pilate was just one of those rat-hole, pin-headed, 
pliable, standpat, free-lunch, pie-counter politicians- He 
was the direct result of the machine gang in Jewish politics, 
and he was afraid that if he released Christ he would lose 
his job. 

"Say, boys," he demanded, leaning so far over the 


platform it seemed he must have fallen, "are you fellows 
willing to slap Jesus Christ in the face in order to have 
some one come up and slap you on the back and say you 
are a good fellow and a dead-game sport? That is the 
surest way to lose out in life. I am giving you the expe 
rience of a life that knows. 

" Pilate had his chance and he missed it. His name 
rings down through the ages in scorn and contempt because 
he had not the courage to stand up for his convictions and 
Jesus Christ. Aren't you boys doing the same thing? You 
are convinced that Jesus Christ is the son of God, but 
you are afraid of the horse4augh the boys will give you. 

"God will have nothing to do with you unless you 
are willing to keep clean/' he said, "Some people think 
they are not good enough to go to heaven and not bad 
enough to go to hell, and that God is too good to send them 
to hell, so they fix up a little religion of their own. God 
isn't keeping any half-way house for any one. The man 
who believes in that will change his theology before he has 
been in hell five minutes. 

"There's just one enemy that keeps every one from 
accepting Christ, and that is your stubborn, miserable will 
power. You are not men enough to come clean for Jesus. 

"I don't care whether you have brains enough to fill 
a hogshead or little enough to fill a thimble, you are up 
against this proposition: You must begin to measure Christ 
by the rules of God instead of the rules of men. Put him 
in the God class instead of in the man class; judge Christ 
by his task and the work he performed, and see if he was 
only a man." 

The University of Pennsylvania would be turning out 
bigger men than Jesus Christ, he said, if Christ were not 
the son of God. The conditions and the opportunities are 
so much greater in these days, he showed^ that a real 
superman should be the product of our day if education, 
society, business, politics and these varied interests could 
produce such a thing. 


"Jesus Christ is just as well known today as old Cleo 
patra, the flat-nosed enchantress of the Nile, was known 
hundreds and hundreds of years ago. 

"Don't swell up like a poisoned pup and say that 
'it doesn't meet with my stupendous intellectual concep 
tion of what God intended should be understood.' God 
should have waited until you were born and then called 
you into counsel, I suppose. Say, fellows, I don't like to 
think that there are any four-flushing, excess-baggage, 
lackadaisical fools like that alive today, but there are 
a few. 

"On the square, now, if you want to find a man of 
reason, would you go down in the red-light district, where 
women are selling their honor for money, or through the 
beer halls or fan-tan joints? You don't find intellect there," 
he continued. 

In contrast to these places, the evangelist described 
with remarkable accuracy and emotion the scenes sur 
rounding the death of President McKinley and the burial 
ceremony at Canton, Ohio; how the great men of the 
nation, all Christian men, passed by the flag-covered casket 
and paid their silent tribute to the man who had died with 
Christian confidence expressed in his last words. 

"When I came out of that court-house at Canton, I 
said: * Thank God, I'm in good company, for the greatest 
men of my nation are on the side of Jesus Christ/ " he 
added. From the farthest corner of the auditorium there 
came a fervent "Amen/' which found many repetitions in 
the brief silence that followed. 

Mr. Sunday reached a powerful climax when he 
described the possibilities of the Judgment Day, and the 
efforts of the evil one to lead into the dark, abysmal depths 
souls of men who have been popular in the world. To 
those who have accepted Christ, the Saviour will appear 
on that day as an advocate at the heavenly throne, he 
argued, and the saved ones can turn to the devil and say: 

" 'Beat it, you old skin-flint. I have you skinned to a 


frazzle* I have taken Jesus Christ and he's going to stand 
by me through all eternity. 3 

"Wherein does Jesus Christ fail to come up to your 
standard and the highest conception of the greatest God 
like spirit? Show me one flaw in his character. I chal 
lenge any infidel on earth to make good his claims that 
Christ was an ordinary, man. The name of Jesus Christ, 
the son of God, is greater than any. It is the name that 
unhorsed Saul of Tarsus, and it is holding 500,000,000 of 
people by its majestic spell and enduring power. 

"If you can't understand what this means, just take 
a walk out into some cemetery some day and look at the 
tomb-stones. You'll find that the name of the man who 
had a political drag twenty-five years ago is absolutely 
forgotten," continued the challenge. 

"Do you fellows know what sacrifice means?' 5 sud 
denly asked the speaker. "Some of your fathers are 
making sacrifices and wearing old clothes just to keep 
you here in school. He wants you to have an education 
because he can't even handle the multiplication table. 

"If Jesus Christ should enter this gymnasium we 
would all fall to our knees. We have that much reverence 
in our hearts for him. I would run down and meet him, 
and would tell him how much I love him and that I am 
willing to go wherever he would have me go." 

In closing, the evangelist told the story of a man who 
recklessly tossed a valuable pearl high into the air, reach 
ing over the side of a ship to catch it as it fell. Time and 
again he was successful, but finally the ship swerved to one 
side and the gem disappeared beneath the waves, 

"Boys, that man lost everything just to gain the 
plaudits of the crowd. Are you doing the same thing? 

"That is the condition of thousands of people beneath 
the Stars and Stripes today losing everything just to hear 
the clamor of the people, and get a little pat on the back 
for doing something the mob likes." 

Mr. Sunday suddenly abandoned Ms dramatic attitude* 


and lowered Ms voice. There was an instantaneous bow 
ing of heads, although he had given no suggestion of a 
prayer. It seemed proper at that time, and one of the 
evangelist's heart-to-heart talks with Christ, asking a bless 
ing on the Christian workers of the University, and an 
earnest effort, on the part of every student, to ^live a 
Christian life, accompanied the great audience as it filed 
from the gymnasium. 

Real Manhood 

"Be thou strong, therefore, and show thyself a man," 
the Bible verse reads, and Mr. Sunday promptly added: 
41 Don't be a mutt! Don't be a four-flusher a mere cipher 
on the sea of human enterprise. 

"God is a respecter of character, even if he isn't a 
respecter of persons," continued the speaker. "Abraham 
towers out, like a mountain above a molehill, and beside 
Mm some of our modern gimlet-eyed, heel-worn fellows 
shrink like Edward Hyde in Doctor JekylPs clothes. 

"When those fellows over in Babylon offered booze 
to Daniel, although he was only seventeen years old, he 
said, 'Nothing doing.' He told them where to head in. 
Moses pushed aside the greatest scepter of any kingdom 
and did what his heart told him was right. 'Be thou strong 
and show thyself a man.' 

"David was a man of lofty purposes and his life was 
influenced by those that had preceded him. It wasn't 
an accident that made David a king. The big job is always 
looking for big men. A round peg will not fit into a square 
hole, even if he is a university professor. 

"The young buck who inherits a big fortune without 
working for it," continued Mr. Sunday, "is going down 
the line so fast you can't see him for the fog. The man 
who has real, rich, red blood in his veins, instead of pink 
tea and ice water, when the lions of opposition roar, thinks 
it is only a call for dinner in the dining car, and he goes 
ahead and does things. 


" There are some going around disguised as men who 
ought to be arrested," the evangelist interposed. "To 
know some men is an invitation to do right; to know 
others is an invitation to know dirty booze and to blot the 
family escutcheon, insult your mothers and sisters. The 
size of the man depends on his mind, not on his muscle. 
There is lots of bulk but little brains in some men. 

"It's a sad day for a young man when Bill Taft's 
overcoat wouldn't make him a vest/' he added, amid shouts 
of laughter, in which even staid, stern-faced professors 
joined with the students. 

"Too many fellows look like men from across the 
street, but when you get close to them they shrivel up. 

"It makes a difference what kind of an example you 
follow. If Thomas Edison should say to his boy, 'Be an 
inventor/ the boy would know what he meant, but if some 
red-nosed, beer-soaked old reprobate should tell his boy 
to ' be a man/ the boy would be all in. Lots of fellows 
today turn out bad because their fathers' talk and walk 
do not agree. 

"The best thing that can happen to a young man," 
said Mr. Sunday, "is to come under the influence of a real 
man. Every one has a hero, whether it be on the foot 
ball field or in the classroom, and if every one would lead 
right today, there would be no going astray tomorrow. 

"There are some men in this world that when they 
are around you turn up your collar, feel chills running up 
and down your back and when you look at the thermom 
eter, you find the temperature is about 60 degrees below 

Then followed the evangelist's famous story of how 
David killed Goliath, considerably tempered to suit the 
culture of his audience. He told how David boldly asked 
who the "big lobster was," and why he was "strutting 
around as if he was the whole cheese, the head guy of the 
opposition party. 

"David put down the sword that Saul had given him. 


for he felt like a fellow in a hand-me-down suit two sizes 
too large. He picked up one of his little pebbles, slung 
it across the river and hit poor old Goliath on the koko." 

"Some fellows are working so hard to become angels 
they forget to be men. If you will study your Bible you 
will find that the men of old were subject to the same temp 
tations as the men of today, but they didn't let their temp 
tations get the best of them. 

"If your manhood is buried in doubt and cheap booze, 
dig it out. You have to sign your own Declaration of 
Independence and fight your own Revolutionary wars 
before you can celebrate the Fourth of July over the things 
that try to keep you down. 

"The best time for a man to sow his wild oats is 
between the age of eighty-five and ninety years. A six- 
ply drunk is about as good a passport into commercial 
life as a record for housebreaking, and the youth who goes 
to the mat with a half-pint of red-eye in his stomach, will 
be as beneficial to humanity as a one-legged man in a 
hurdle race." 

'If I knew, when the undertaker pumps that pink 
stuff into me and embalms me, that the end of all had 
come, I would still be glad I lived a Christian life, because 
it meant a life of decency," he said. "I would rather go 
through the world without knowing the multiplication 
table than never to know the love of Christ. I don't under 
estimate the value of an education, boys, but just try living 
on oatmeal porridge. Get your education, but don't lose 
sight of Jesus." 

"Once you have made your plan, cling to it. Be a 
man, even in situations of great danger. The man whose 
diet is swill will be at home with the hogs in any pen. He's 
bound to have bristles sticking through his skin. If Abra 
ham Lincoln had read about Alkali Ike, or Three Fingered 
Pete, do you think he would ever have been President? 
While other young men were waking up with booze-head 
aches, he was pulling up his old-fashioned galluses and 
saying, Tin going to be a man. 3 


"And one morning the world awoke, rubbed Its sleepy 
eyes and looked around for a man for a certain place. It 
found Abraham Lincoln and raised him from obscurity to 
the highest pinnacle of popular favor. He was a man and 
his example should be a guiding influence in the life of 
every American citizen." 

Booze, evil women, licentious practices, cigarettes 
all these came under the ban of Mr. Sunday's system of 
Christian living. He spared no words; he called a spade 
a spade and looked at modern affairs without colored 

"You can't find a drunkard who ever intended to be 
a drunkard," argued Mr. Sunday. "He just intended to 
be a moderate drinker. He was up against a hard game, 
a game you can't beat." 

He asserted that he could get more nourishment from 
a little bit of beef extract, placed on the edge of a knife 
blade, than can be obtained from 800 gallons of the best 
beer brewed. 

Talking about riches, lie suggested that King Solomon, 
with his wealth, could have hired Andrew Carnegie as a 
chauffeur or J. Pierpont Morgan to cut the lawns around 
Ms palace. "Money isn't all there is in this world, but 
neither is beer," he said. "I don't want to see you stu 
dents get the booze habit, just because we are licensing 
men at so much per year to make you staggering, reeling, 
drunken sots, murderers, thieves and vagabonds." 

The double standard of living was bitterly attacked 
by the revivalist, who said one of the crying needs of 
America was the recognition of a single standard of living. 

"It makes no difference to God whether the sinner 
wears a plug hat and pair of suspenders or a petticoat and 
a willow plume. No man who deliberately drags a girl 
and sends her into a life of shame ought to be permitted 
in good society. He ought to be shot at sunrise." This 
sentiment evoked a tremendous round of applause, and 
cries of "Amen!" and "Good, Bill!" were not infrequent. 


"The avenging God is on Ms trail and the man who 
wrecks women's lives is going to crack brimstone on the 
hottest stone in hell, praise God," the speaker continued. 
"If we are to conciliate this unthinkable and unspeakable 
practice of vampires feeding on women's virtue, we might 
as well back-pedal in the progress of the nations. The 
virtue of womanhood is the rampart of our civilization and 
we must not let it be betrayed/' 

When the invitation was given after the night meet 
ing, for men who wanted to dedicate themselves to cleaner, 
nobler manhood to rise, nearly the entire body, visibly 
moved by the words of the preacher, rose to its feet. Then, 
with a daring which prim and conservative Philadelphia 
had not thought possible in this citadel of intellectuality 
and conventionality, Sunday gave the invitation to the 
students who would begin a new life by confessing Christ 
to come forward. Accounts vary as to the number who 
went up and grasped the evangelist's hand. All reporters 
seemed to be carried away by the thrill of the occasion. 
Many reported that hundreds went forward. The most 
conservative report was that 175 young men took this 
open stand of confession of Jesus Christ. 

The University weekly, Old Penn, in its issue of the 
following Saturday summarized the Billy Sunday visit in 
pages of contributions. These three paragraphs are the 
sober judgment of those best informed from the University 

The results of Mr. Sunday's visit witMn the University 
have been nothing short of marvelous. The Provost has 
been receiving congratulations from trustees, business men, 
lawyers, members of the faculty and prominent under 
graduates. Several whole fraternities have taken action 
leading to higher living in every line. Drink has been 
completely excluded from class banquets. Students are 
joining the churches, and religion has been the paramount 
topic of conversation throughout the entire University. 

Under the leadership of the University Christian 


Association, the church leaders of PMladelpMa of all denomi 
nations ^ have been canvassing their own students in the 
University and have found most hearty response to every 
thing that has to do with good living. The effect is really 
that of a religious crusade, and the result is of that permanent 
sort which expresses itself in righteousness of life. At the 
close of the night meeting on Monday, about 1,000 students 
arose to their feet in answer to Mr, Sunday's invitation to 
live the Christian life in earnest, or to join for the first time 
the Christian way of life. Those who have called upon the 
students who took this stand have found that it was genuine, 
and not in any sense due to a mere emotional movement. 
Mr. Sunday's appeal seems to be almost wholly to the will 
and conscience, but it is entirely based upon the movement 
of the Holy Spirit of God. 

No one who has ever addressed the students of the 
University of Pennsylvania on vital religion has ever ap 
proached the success which was attained by Mr. Sunday in 
reaching the students, and without doubt this visit is only the 
opening up of a marvelous opportunity for Mr. Sunday to 
reach the students of the entire country, especially those of 
our great cosmopolitan universities. 

The editor of Old Penn asked opinions from members 
of the faculty and undergraduate body. Dean Edward C. 

Kirk, M.D., D.D.S., of the Dental Department, said in Ms 
appraisal of the Sunday visit: 

If, as according to some of the critics, the impression 
that he has made is but temporary and the enthusiasm which 
he has created is only a momentary impulse, even so, the 
success of his accomplishment lies in the fact that he has 
produced results where others have failed to make a begin 
ning. The University ought to have the uplifting force not 
only of a Billy Sunday, but a Billy Monday, Tuesday, 
Wednesday and every other day in the week. 

Of the students who testified in print, one, a prominent 
senior, wrote: 


Mr. Sunday awoke in me a realization of my evil 
practices and sins so forcefully that I am going to make a 
determined effort to give them up and to make amends 

for the past. From my many conversations with fellow- 
students I find that this is what Mr. Sunday did. If he did 
not directly cause the student to come forward and take a 
stand, every student at least was aroused to think about this 
all-important question in a light that he had not seriously 
considered it in before. The undergraduate body, as a 
whole, is glad that Mr, Sunday came to Philadelphia, 

A Christian worker from the Law School gave his 

opinion as follows: 

I have been connected with the University of Pennsyl 
vania for six years, and for the greater part of this time have 
been in close touch with the work of the Christian Associa 
tion. The influence of the Association seems to be increasing 
constantly, but Billy Sunday accomplished in one day what 
the Association would be proud to have accomplished in one 
year. To my mind, Mr. Sunday's visit marks the beginning 
of a new epoch the Renaissance of religious work of the 

That is the sort of thing that occupied pages of the 
official publication of the University, following the evan 
gelist's visit. This day's work attracted the attention not 

only of Philadelphia newspapers, but the religious press 
throughout the country quite generally commented upon it. 
Dr. Mosley H. Williams graphically reviewed it in the 

The University of Pennsylvania, founded by Benjamin 
Franklin in 1749, is the fourth in age of American ipaiversi- 
ties, antedated only by Harvard, Yale, and Princeton by one 
year. It is located in a city of a .million and three-quarters 
people. It now enrolls 6,632 students, representing every 
state in the Union, and fifty-nine foreign countries. There 
are 250 from Europe and Asia, and 150 from Latin America; 
so that in the cosmopolitanism of its make-up, probably no 


American university equals it. Its Young Men's Christian 
Association employs twenty-seven secretaries, its Bible 
classes on week days gather 650 students, and every Frater 
nity House has its own Bible Class. But attendance upon 
daily prayers is not obligatory, and less than a hundred, on 
an average, are seen at those services. 

Into this cosmopolitan University Billy Sunday came 
like a cyclone. After preaching in Scranton three times on 
the Sabbath, to a/udiences aggregating 30,000 people^ he 
traveled all night, "reached Philadelphia Monday morning, 
took an automobile spin to the baseball park, where he^was 
a famous player twenty years ago, and preached three times 
in the University of Pennsylvania gymnasium, which was 
seated with chairs, and accommodated 3,000 hearers. 

There were three services noon, afternoon and even* 
ing. Tickets were issued, red, white and blue, each good 
for one service, and that one exclusively. Not a person was 
admitted without a ticket. The long lines reached squares 
away, and the police kept the people moving in order. 

What does such a spectacle mean in a great old uni 
versity, in a great city? Such a student body knows slang, 
and athleticism, and all sorts of side plays. No doubt there 
was plenty of criticism and questioning; but a spectator who 
had Ms eyes and ears and mind open, would say, that in 
getting a response to the religious appeal, Billy Sunday's 
Monday in the University of Pennyslvania scored high. 

This effort for quickening religious interests in the 
University was not a spasmodic effort for one day; there had 
been the most careful preparations beforehand, in consulta 
tion with leading ministers of all denominations in the city, 
to seek out students of every denomination. ^ Lists were 
carefully made and cards put in the hands of ministers and 
Christian workers, with the understanding that all the young 
men of the University should be visited in a friendly and 
Christian spirit by representatives of various churches. The 
results, of course, remain to be seen, but after this effort, no 
student need say, "No man cares for my soul." 

The conclusion of the whole matter, of course, is that 
the old-time religion, the gospel of our fathers and our 


mothers, is still the deepest need of aU sorts and conditions 
of men. The religion that saved the outcast in the gutter 
is adequate to redeem the man in the university* 

The Christian's Daily Helper 

Too much of the work of the Church today is like a squirrel in a cage 
lots of activity, but no progress. BILLY SUNDAY. 

IN the course of one of Ms campaigns, Sunday sweeps 
the arc of the great Christian doctrines. While he 
stresses ever and again the practical duties of the 
Christian life, yet he makes clear that the reliance of the 
Christian for all that he hopes to attain in character and in 
service is upon the promised Helper sent by our Lord, the 
ever-present Holy Spirit. One of the evangelist's greatest 
sermons isjipon this theme, and no transcript of his essential 
message would be complete without it. 


The personality, the divinity and the attributes of the 
Holy Ghost afford one of the most inspiring, one of the most 
beneficial examples in our spiritual life. We are told that 
when the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost, he came as the 
rushing of a mighty wind and overurging expectancy. 
When Jesus was baptized in the River Jordan, of John, out 
from the expanse of heaven was seen to float the Spirit of 
God like a snowflake, and they heard a sound as of whirring 
wings, and the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove hovered 
over the dripping locks of Christ. Neither your eyes nor 
mine will ever behold such a scene; neither will our ears 
ever hear such a sound again. You cannot dissect or 
weigh the Holy Spirit, nor analyze him as a chemist may 
analyze material matter in his laboratory, but we can all 
feel the pulsing of the breath of his eternal love. 

The Holy Spirit is a personality; as much a personality 
as Christ, or you or I. "Howbeit, when he, the Spirit of 
truth,, is come.. he will guide you into all truth: for lie shall 



not speak of himself." He is to us what Jesus was when he 
was on earth. Jesus always speaks of the Holy Spirit 
in the future tense. He said, "It is expedient that I go 
away; if I go not away the Spirit will not come. It is 
expedient for you that I go away, but when I am gone, then 
I will send Him unto you who is from the Father." So we are 
living today in the beneficence of the Holy Spirit. 

No Universal Salvation 

I do not believe in this twentieth-century theory of 
the universal fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of 
man. We are all made of one blood that is true, physically 
speaking; we are all related. I am talking about the spir 
itual, not the physical. You are not a child of God unless 
you are a Christian; then you are a child of God if you 
are a Christian, 

Samson with, the Holy Spirit upon him could take the 
jawbone of an ass and lay dead a thousand Philistines. 
Samson without the Holy Spirit was as weak as a newborn 
babe, and they poked Ms eyes out and cut off his locks. 
And so with the Church and her members. Without 
the Holy Spirit you are as sounding brass and tinkling 
cymbals, simply four walls and a roof, and a pipe organ and 
a preacher to do a little stunt on Sunday morning and even 
ing. I tell you, Christian people, that with the Holy Spirit 
there is no power on earth or in hell that can stand before 
the Church of Jesus Christ. And the damnable, hell-born, 
whisky-soaked, hog-jowled, rum-soaked moral assassins 
have damned this community long enough. Now it is time 
it was broken up and it is time to do something. 

There are three classes in the Church, as I have looked 
at it from my standpoint. The first are those in the Church 
personally who want to be saved, but they are not concerned 
about other people. They do not give any help to other 
people; they don't lie awake at night praying for other 
people that they may be brought to the Lord. 

The second class are going to depend upon human 


wisdom. There is no such thing as latent power, expressed 
or implied power is just as distinctive in an individual as 
the electricity in these lights. If these globes are without 
a current they would be nothing but glass bulbs, fit for 
nothing but the scrap heap. Without the Holy Spirit you 
are as sounding brass and tinkling cymbals, and a third-rate 
amusement parlor, with religion left out. 

The third class are church members not from might 
and honor and power, but from the Spirit. 

While at Pentecost one sermon saved 3,000 people, now 
it takes 3,000 sermons to get one old buttermilk-eyed, 
whisky-soaked blasphemer. 

Happiest Nation on Earth. 

We have our churches, our joss houses, our tabernacles; 
we have got the wisdom of the orientals, the ginger, vim, 
tabasco sauce, peppering of the twentieth century; we have 
got all of that, and I do not believe that there are any people 
beneath the sun who are better fed, better paid, better 
clothed, better housed, or any happier than we are beneath 
the stars and stripes no nation on earth. There are lots of 
things that could be eliminated to make us better than we 
are today. We are the happiest people in God's world. 

Out in Iowa, a fellow said to me: "Mr. Sunday, we 
ought to be better organized." Just think of that, we 
ought to be better organized. Now listen to me, my friends ! 
Listen to me! There is so much machinery in the churches 
today that you can hear it squeak. 

Drop into a young people's meeting. The leader will 
say in a weak, effeminate, apologetic, minor sort of way, that 
there was a splendid topic this evening but he had not had 
much time for preparation. It is superfluous for him to say 
that; you could have told that. He goes along and tells 
how happy he is to have you there to take part this evening, 
making this meeting interesting. Some one gets up and 
reads a poem from the Christian Endeavor World and then 
they sing No. 38. They get up and sing : 


"Oh, to be nothing nothing, 
Only to lie at His feet." 

We used to sing that song, but I found out that people 
took it so literally that I cut it out. 

Then a long pause, and some one says, "Let us sing 
No. 52." So they get up and then some one starts^ 

"Throw out the life line, 
Throw out the life line." 

They haven't got strength enough to put up a clothes 
line. Another long pause, and then you hear, "Have all 
taken part that feel free to do so? We have a few minutes 
left. So let us sing No. 23." Then another long pause. 
"I hear the organ prelude; it is time for us to close, now let 
us all repeat together, 'The Lord keep watch between me 
and thee, while we are absent one from another. ' " 

I tell you God has got a hard job on his hands. Ever 
hear anything like that? 

Ambassadors of God 

Believe that God Almighty can do something. Don't 
whine around as though God were a corpse, ready for the 
undertaker. God is still on the job. The Holy Spirit is 
needed to bring man into spiritual touch with God; to make 
man realize that he is a joint representative of God on earth 
today. Do you ever realize that you are God's representa 
tive God's ambassador? 

And as we are God's ambassadors why should we fear 
what the devil may do? Can it be that you fail to realize 
his power? Or are you so blind to the spiritual that you can't 
see that you need God's help? Let me ask you one question : 
Are you ready to surrender to him? A man said to me : "It 
was a mighty little thing to drive Adam and Eve out of the 
Garden of Eden because they ate an apple." It wasn't the 
fruit. It was the principle, whether man should bow to 
God or God bow to man. That act was an act of disobedi- 


ence. You may say it was a mighty little thing for England 
to go to war with us because we threw some tea into Boston 
harbor. We didn't go to war over the tea. We said : ' ' You 
can't brew tea in the East India Company and pour it down 
our throats." It was the principle we went to war about, 
not the price of tea, and we fought it out. Are you ready to 
surrender? You, who are in rebellion against God? You, 
who are in rebellion against the authority of God's govern 
ment? Are you ready to do his will? 

A good many people suppose that when they have 
accepted Jesus Christ as their Saviour and joined the Church 
that is all there is to the Christian life. As well might a 
student who has just matriculated imagine that he has fin 
ished his education. Nobody has reached a stage in the 
Christian life from which he cannot go further unless he is 
in the coffin and then it's all over. To accept Christ, to 
join the Church, is only to begin. It is the starting of the 
race, not the reaching of the goal. There are constant and 
increasing blessings if you are willing to pay the price. 

I don't care when or where you became a church mem 
ber, if the Comforter, who is the Holy Ghost, is not with 
you, you are a failure. 

This power of the Spirit is meant for all who are 
Christians. It is a great blessing for the Presbyterian elder 
as well as for the preacher. I know some Methodist stewards 
who need it. Deacons would "deak" better if they had 
it. It is a great blessing for the deacon and the members of 
the prudential committee, and it is just as great a blessing 
for the man in the pew who holds no office. To hear some 
people talk you would think that the Holy Spirit is only for 
preachers. God sets no double standard for the Chris 
tian life. There's nothing in the Bible to show that the 
people may live differently from the man in the pulpit. 

Holy Spirit a Person 

I once heard a doctor of divinity pray for the Holy 
Spirit, and he said : " Send it upon us now/* He was wrong, 


doubly wrong. The Holy Spirit is not an impersonal thing. 
He is a person, not an "it." And the Holy Spirit has always 
been here since the days of Pentecost. He does not come 
and go. He is right here in the world and his power is 
at the command of all who will put themselves into position 
to use it. 

A university professor was greeted by a friend of mine 
who took him by the hand, and said: " What do you think 
of the Holy Spirit?" The professor answered that he re 
garded the Holy Spirit as an influence for good, a sort of 
emanation from God. My friend talked to him and tried 
to show him his mistake, and a few months later he met 
him again. "What do you think of the Holy Spirit now?" 
he asked. The professor answered: "Well, I know that the 
Holy Spirit is a person. Since I talked with you and have 
come to that conviction, I have succeeded in bringing 
sixty-three students to Christ." 

A great many people think the Holy Spirit comes and 
goes again, and quote from the Acts, where it says that Peter 
was filled with the Holy Spirit. Well, if you will find that 
Peter had been doing things right along, that showed he had 
been filled with the Holy Spirit aU the time. Acts, second 
chapter and fourth verse, we read: "And they were all filled 
with the Holy Spirit." You have no right, nor have I, to 
say that the Holy Spirit ever left any one. We have no 
right to seek to find Scripture to bolster up some little theory 
of our own. We must take the Word of God for it, just as 
we find it written there. Now, at Pentecost, Peter had 
said: "Repent, and be baptized for the remission of sins." 
Then he promised them that the Holy Spirit would come 
and fill them. Now we have the fulfilment of the promise. 

Who were filled with the Holy Spirit? Peter and James 
and John? No the people. That is the record of the filling 
with the Holy Spirit of the three thousand who were converted 
at Pentecost, not the filling of Peter and James and John. 

If the Spirit remains forever, why doesn't his power 
always show itself? Why haven't you as much power with 


God as the one hundred and twenty had at Pentecost? 
There are too many frauds, too much trash in the Church. 
It is because the people are not true to God. They are 
disobeying him. They are not right with him yet. 

I don't know just how the Holy Spirit will come, but 
Jesus said we should do even greater works than he did. 
What are you doing? You are not doing such works now. 

The Last Dispensation 

We find the Holy Spirit in the Old Testament. When 
the prophets spoke they were moved by him. God seems 
to have spoken to man in three distinct dispensations. Once 
it was through the covenant with Abraham, then it was 
through Moses and under the Mosaic dispensation, and 
finally it is through his own son, Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ 
came into the world, proved that he is the Son of God, 
suffered, died and was buried, rose again, and sent his Holy 
Comforter. This is the last dispensation. There is no 
evidence that after the Holy Spirit once came, he ever left 
the world. He is here now, ready to help you to overcome 
your pride, and your diffidence that has kept you from doing 
personal work, and is willing and ready to lead you into a 
closer relationship with Jesus. 

But you say, some are elected and some are not. On 
that point I agree with Henry Ward Beecher. He said: 
"The elect are those who will and the non-elect are those 
who won't." 

But you go in for culture "culchah." If you are too 
cultured to be a Christian, God pity you. You may call it 
culture. I have another name for it. Is there anything 
about Christianity that is necessarily uncultured? I think 
the best culture in the world is among the followers of Jesus 

But you say: "Ignorance is a bar to some/ 1 No sir. 
Billy Bray, the Cornish miner, was an illiterate man. He 
was asked if he could read writing, and he answered: "No, 
I can't even read readin '. " Yet Billy Bray did a wonderful 


work for God in Wales and England. Ignorance Is no bar 
to religion, or to usefulness for Jesus. 

Some time ago, over in England, a man died in the poor 
house. He had had a little property, just a few acres of 

land, and it hadn't been enough to support him. After he 
died the new owner dug a well on it, and at a depth of sixty- 
five feet he found a vein of copper so rich that it meant a 
little fortune. If the man who died had only known of that 
vein, he need not have lived in poverty. There are many 
who are just as ignorant of the great riches within their reach. 
Lots of people hold checks on the bank of heaven, and haven't 
faith enough to present them at the window to have them 

"Little Things 15 

You may say, "I have failed in something, but it is a 
little thing. 7 ' Oh, these little things ! Bugs are little things, 
but they cost this country $800,000,000 in one year. Birds 
are little enemies of the bugs', and birds are little things, and 
if it weren't for the birds we would starve in two years. 
If there's anything that makes me mad it is to see a farmer 
grab a shotgun and kill a chicken hawk. That hawk is 
worth a lot more than some old hen you couldn't cook tender 
if you boiled it for two days. That chicken hawk has killed 
all the gophers, mice and snakes it could get its claws on and 
it has come to demand from the farmer the toll that is right 
fully due to it, for what it has done to rid the land of pests. 

Why is it that with all our universities and colleges we 
haven't produced a book like the Bible? It was written long 
ago by people who lived in a little country no bigger than some 
of^our states. The reason was that God was behind the 
writers. The book was inspired. 

When good old Dr. Backus, of Hamilton College, lay 
dying the doctor whispered to Mrs. Backus, saying, "Dr. 
Backus is dying." The old man heard and looked up with 
a smile on his face and asked: "Did I understand you to 
say that I am dying?" 


Sadly the doctor said: "Yes, I'm sorry* you have no 
more than half an hour to live." 

Dr. Backus smiled again* "Then it will soon be over/ 1 
he said* "Take me out of bed and put me on my knees, I 
want to die praying for the students of Hamilton College." 
They lifted him out and he knelt down and covered his face 
with his transparent hands, and prayed "Oh, God, save the 
students of Hamilton College." 

For a time he continued to pray, then the doctor said, 
" He is getting weaker." They lifted him back upon the bed, 
and his face was whiter than the pillows. Still his lips 

moved. " Oh, God, save " Then the light of life went 

out, and he finished the prayer in the presence of Jesus. 
What did his dying prayer do? Why, almost the entire 
student body of Hamilton College accepted Jesus Christ. 

If you haven't the power of the Spirit you have done 
something wrong. I don't know what it is it's none of my 
business. It's between you and God. It is only my duty 
to call upon you to confess and get right "with him. 

A man went to a friend of mine and said: "I don't 
know what is wrong with me. I teach a Sunday-school 
class of young men, and I have tried to bring them to Jesus, 
and I have failed. Can you tell me why?" 

"Yes," was the answer. "There's something wrong 
with you. You've done something wrong." 

The man hesitated, but finally he said, "You're right. 
Years ago I was cashier in a big business house, and one time 
the books balanced and there was some money left over. 
I took that money and I have kept it. That was twelve 
years ago. Here is the money in this envelope." 

"Take it back to the owner," said my friend. "It's 
not yours, and it's not mine." 

"But I can't do that," said the man. "I am making 
a salary of $22,000 a year now, and I have a wife and daugh 
ters, and my firm will never employ a dishonest man." 

"Well, that's your business," said my friend. "I 
have advised you, and that's all I can do; but God will 
never forgive you until you've given that money back." 


The man sank into a chair and covered his eyes for a 
while. Then he got up and said, "111 do it." He took a 
Chesapeake and Ohio train and went to Philadelphia, and 
went to a great merchant prince in whose employ he had 
been, and told his story. The merchant prince shut and 
locked the door. "Let us pray," he said. They knelt 
together, the great merchant's arm about his visitor; and 

when they got up 
the great merchant 
said: "Go in peace. 
God bless you." 

On the next 
Sunday the man 
who had confessed 
took the Bible on 
his knee as he sat 
before his class and 
said to them: 
"Young men, I 
often wondered why 
I couldn't win any 
of you to Christ, 
My life was wrong, 
and I've repented 
and made it right." 
That man won his 
entire class for Christ, and they joined Dr. McKibben's 
church at Walnut Hills, Cincinnati, Ohio. 

If you would get right with God what would be the 
result? Why, you would save your city. 

The Fame of a Christian 

Some time ago the funeral of a famous woman was held 
in London. Edward, who was king then, came with his 
consort, Alexandra, to look upon her face, and dukes and 
duchesses and members of the nobility came. Then the 
doors were opened and the populace came in by thousands. 



Down the aisle came a woman whose face and dress bore 
the marks of poverty. By one hand she led a child, and in 
her arms she carried another. As she reached the coffin she 
set down the child she was carrying and bent her head upon 
the glass above the quiet face in the coffin, and her old 
fascinator fell down upon it. 

"Come," said a policeman, "you must move on." 

But the woman stood by the coffin. " I'll not move on/' 
she said, "for I have a right here." 

The policeman said, "You must move on. It's orders;" 
but the woman said, "No, I've walked sixty miles to look 
upon her face again. She saved my two boys from being 
drunkards." The woman in the coffin was Mrs. Booth, wife 
of the great leader of the Salvation Army. 

I'd rather have some reclaimed drunkard, or some poor 
girl redeemed from sin and shame, stand by my coffin and 
rain down tears of gratitude upon it, than to have a monu 
ment of gold studded with precious stones, that would pierce 
the skies. 

"If ye love me keep my commandments. And I will 
pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, 
that he may abide with you forever." 

A Victorious Sermon 

If you fall into sin and you're a sheep you'll get out; if you're a hog 
you'll stay there, just like a sheep and a hog when they fall into the mud. 

ON the walls of Sir Walter Scott's home at Abbotts- 
ford hangs the claymore of the redoubtable Rob 
Roy, one of the most interesting objects in that 
absorbing library of the great novelist. A peculiar inter 
est attaches to the instruments of great achievement, as 
the scimitar of Saladin, or the sword of Richard the Lion- 
Hearted, or the rifle of Daniel Boone. Something of this 
same sort of interest clings to a particular form of words that 
has wrought wondrously. Apart altogether from its con 
tents, Sunday's sermon on "The Unpardonable Sin 77 is of 
peculiar interest to the reader. This is the message that 
has penetrated through the indifference and skepticism and 
self-righteousness and shameless sin of thousands of men and 
women. Many thousands of persons have, under the impulse 
of these words, abandoned their old lives and crowded for 
ward up the sawdust trail to grasp the preacher's hand, as 
a sign that they would henceforth serve the Lord Christ. 

"The Unpardonable Sin 77 is a good sample of Sunday's 
sermons. It shows the character of the man's mind, and 
that quality of sound reasonableness which we call "com 
mon sense." There are no excesses, no abnormalities, no 
wrenchings of Scripture in this terrific utterance. 


" Wherefore I say unto you, All manner of sin and 
blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men: but the blas 
phemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto 



"And whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of 
man, it shall be forgiven him: but whosoever speaketh 
against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither 
in this world, neither in the world to come. 7 ' 

I ? d like to know where anybody ever found any 
authority for a belief in future probation. Jesus Christ 
was either human or he was divine. And if he was only 
human then I am not obligated to obey his word any more 
than I am that of any other philosopher. 

The Pharisees charged Jesus with being in league 
with the devil. They said to him, "You have a devil.' 3 
They grew bolder in their denunciation and said: "You 
do what you do through Beelzebub, the prince of devils." 
Jesus said: "How is that so? If what I do I do through 
the devil, explain why it is I am overthrowing the works 
of the devil. If I am a devil and if what I do is through 
the devil, then I wouldn't be working to hurt the works 
of the devil. I would not be doing what I am doing to 
destroy the works of the devil, but I would be working to 
destroy the works of God." 

From that day forth they dared not ask Mm any 

I know there are various opinions held by men as to 
what they believe constitutes the sin against the Holy 
Ghost. There are those who think it could have been 
committed only by those who heard Jesus Christ speak 
and saw him in the flesh. If that be true then neither you 
nor I are in danger, for neither has ever seen Jesus in the 
flesh nor heard him. Another class think that it has been 
committed since the days of Jesus, but at extremely rare 
intervals; and still a third class think they have com 
mitted it and they spend their lives in gloom and dread 
and are perfectly useless to themselves and the community. 

And yet I haven't the slightest doubt but that there 
are thousands that come under the head of my message, 
who are never gloomy, never depressed, never downcast; 
their conscience is at ease, their spirits are light and gay, 


they eat three meals a day and sleep as sound as a babe 
at night; nothing seems to disturb them, life is all pleasure 
and song. 

What It Is 

If you will lay aside any preconceived ideas or opinions 
which you may have had or still have as to what you 
imagine, think or believe constitutes the sin against the 
Holy Ghost, or the unpardonable sin, and if you will listen 
to me, for I have read every sermon I could ever get my 
hands upon the subject, and have listened to every man 
I have ever had an opportunity to hear preach, and have 
read everything the Bible has taught on the subject. 

I do not say that my views on the subject are infalli 
ble, but I have wept and prayed and studied over it, and 
if time will permit and my strength will allow and your 
patience endure, I will try and ask and answer a few ques 
tions. What is it? Why will God not forgive it? 

It is not swearing. If swearing were the unpardonable 
sin, lots of men in heaven would have to go to hell and 
there are multitudes on earth on their way to heaven who 
would have to go to hell. It is not drunkenness. There 
are multitudes in heaven that have crept and crawled out 
of the quagmires of filth and the cesspools of iniquity and 
drunkenness. Some of the brightest lights that ever blazed 
for God have been men that God saved from drunkenness. 

It's not adultery. Jesus said to the woman committing 
adultery and caught in the very act: " Neither do I con 
demn thee; go and sin no more." 

It isn't theft. He said to Zaccheus, "This day is 
salvation come upon thy house." Zaccheus had been a 

It's not murder. Men's hands have been red with 
blood and God has forgiven them. The Apostle Paul's 
hands were red with blood. 

What is it? To me it is plain and simple. It is con 
stant and continual, and final rejection of Jesus Christ as 



your Saviour. God's offer of mercy and salvation comes 
to you and you say, "No," and you push it aside. I do 
know that there is such a thing as' the last call to every 
man or woman. God says that his spirit will not always 
strive with man, and when a man or woman says "No" 
as God's spirit strives for the last time it forever seals your 

doom. . , 

It is no special form of sin, no one act. It mignt be 
swearing, it might be theft. Any one becomes unpardon 
able if God keeps calling on you to forsake that sin and 
you keep on refusing to forsake it, and if you don't then 
he will withdraw and let you alone and that sin will become 
unpardonable, for God won't ask you again to forsake it. 
It is no one glaring act, but the constant repetition of 
the same thing. There will come a time when you commit 
that sin once too often. . 

It is a known law of mind that truth resisted loses its 
power on the mind that resists it. You hear a truth the 
first tune and reject it. The next time the truth wont 
seem so strong and will be easier to resist. God throws 
a truth in your face. You reject it. He throws again; 
vou reject again. Finally God will stop throwing the truth 
at you and you will have committed the unpardonable 

"There is a line by us unseen; 

It crosses every path; 
It is God's boundary between 
His patience and his wrath. 

"To cross that limit is to die, 

To die as if by stealth. 
It may not dim your eye, 
Nor pale the glow of health; 

"Your conscience may be still at ease; 

Your spirits light and gay; 
That which pleases still may please, 
And care be thrown away; 


"But on that forehead God hath set 

Indelibly a mark, 
Unseen by man; for man as yet 
Is blind and in the dark. 

"Indeed, the doomed one ? s path below 

May bloom as Edens bloom; 
He does not, will not know, 
Nor believe that he is doomed.* 3 * 

Over in Scotland there are men who earn their living 
by gathering the eggs of birds, laid upon ledges on rocks 
away below the cliff top. They fasten a rope to a tree, 
also to themselves, then swing back and forth and in upon 
the ledge of rock. When a man was doing that same 
thing years ago, the rope beneath his arms became untied, 
and the protruding rock caused the rope to hang many 
feet beyond his reach. 

The man waited for help to come, but none came. 
Darkness came, the light dawned, and he gave himself up 
to the fate of starvation, which he felt inevitably awaiting 
him, when a breeze freshened and the dangling rope began 
to vibrate. As the wind increased in velocity it increased 
the vibration of the rope and as it would bend in, he said: 
"If I miss it, I die; if I seize it, it's my only chance," and 
with a prayer to God as the rope bent in, he leaped out 
of the chasm and seized it and made his way hand over 
hand to the top, and when he reached it his hair was as 
white as the driven snow. 

There is one cord that swings through this old world 
today the Holy Spirit. With every invitation it swings 
farther away. We are living in the last dispensation, the 
dispensation of the Holy Spirit, and God is speaking to 
the world through the Holy Spirit today 

Resisting the Truth 

By every known law of the mind, conversion must be 
effected by the influence of the truth on the mind* Every 


time you resist the truth the next time you hear it, it loses 
its force on your mind. And every time you hear a truth 
and withstand it, then you become stronger in your power 
to resist the truth. We all know this, that each resistance 
strengthens you against the truth. When a man hears 
the truth and he resists it, the truth grows weaker and he 
grows stronger to resist it. 

No matter what Jesus Christ did the Jews refused tc 
believe. He had performed wonderful deeds but they 
wouldn't believe, so when Lazarus was dead, he said: 
" Lazarus, come forth," and then turned to the Jews and 
said: "Isn't that evidence enough that I am the Son of 
God?" and they cried: "Away with him." One day he 
was walking down the hot dusty road and he met a funeral 
procession. The mourners were bearing the body of a 
young man and his mother was weeping. He told them 
to place the coffin on the ground and said: 

"Young man arise," and he arose. Then he asked 
the Pharisees: "Is that not proof enough that I am the 
Son of God, that I make the dead to arise?" and they 
cried: "Away with him." So no matter what Jesus did, 
the Jews refused to believe him. No matter what Jesus 
Christ says or does today, you'll refuse to accept, and con 
tinue to rush pell-mell to eternal damnation. 

*Too Late" 

Jesus Christ gives you just as much evidence today. 
Down in Indiana, my friend, Mrs. Robinson, was preaching. 
I don't remember the town, but I think it was Kokomo, 
and I remember the incident, and the last day she tried 
to get the leader of society there to give her heart to God. 
She preached and then went down in the aisle and talked 
to her. Then she went back to the platform and made 
her appeal from there. Again she went to the girl, but 
she still refused. As Mrs. Robinson turned to go she saw 
her borrow a pencil from her escort and write something 
in the back of a hymn book. 


A few years afterward Mrs. Robinson went back to 
the town and was told the girl was dying. They told her 
the physicians had just held a consultation and said she 
could not live until night. Mrs. Robinson hurried to her 
home. The girl looked up, recognized her and said: "I 
didn't send for you. You came on your own account, 
and you're too late." To every appeal she would reply: 
"You're too late." Finally she said: "Go look in the 
hymn book in the church." 

They hurried to the church and looked over the hymn 
books and found in the back of one her name and address 
and these words, "I'll run the risk; I'll take my chance." 
That was the last call to her. Not any one sin is the 
unpardonable sin, but it may be that constant repetition, 
over and over again until God will say: "Take it and go 
to hell." 

Who can commit it? I used to think that only the 
vile, the profane were the people who could commit it. 

Whom did Jesus warn? The Pharisees. And who 
were they? The best men, morally, in Jerusalem. 

Who can commit it? Any man or woman who says 
"No" to Jesus Christ. You may even defend the Bible. 
You may be the best man or woman, morally, in the world. 
Your name may be synonymous with virtue and purity, 
but let God try to get into your heart, let him try to get 
you to walk down the aisle and publicly acknowledge Jesus 
Christ, and your heart and lips are sealed like a bank 
vault, and God hasn't been able to pull you to your feet. 
And God won't keep on begging you to do it. 

Something may say to you, "I ought to be a Chris 
tian." This is the dispensation of the Holy Spirit. God 
spoke in three dispensations. First, through the old Mosaic 
law. Then Jesus Christ came upon this earth and lived 
and the Jews and Gentiles conspired to kill him. Then 
the Holy Spirit came down at Pentecost and God is speak 
ing through the Holy Spirit today. The Holy Spirit is 
pressing you to be a Christian, It takes the combined 


efforts of the Trinity to keep you out of hell God the 
Father to provide the plan of salvation, the Holy Spirit 
to' convict, Jesus Christ to redeem you through his blood, 
and your acceptance and repentance to save you. Sin is 

no trifle, 

Representative of the Trinity 

The only representative of the Trinity in the world 
today is the Holy Ghost. Jesus has been here, but he is 
not here now that is, in flesh and blood. The Holy Ghost 
is here now. When he leaves the world, good-bye. 

There was an old saint of God, now in glory. He 
was holding meetings one time and a young man came 
down the aisle and went so far as to ask him to pray for 
him. He said: " Let's settle it now," but the young man 
refused and told him to pray for him. Years afterwards, 
in Philadelphia, the old saint was in a hotel waiting for 
his card to be taken up to the man he wanted to see. He 
looked in the bar-room door. There was a young man 
ordering a drink. The two saw each other's reflections in 
the French plate behind the bar, and the young man came 
out and said: "How do you do? 77 The old man spoke to 

The young fellow said: "I suppose you don't remember 
me?" and the old saint had to admit that he did not 

The young fellow asked him if he remembered the 
meeting eleven years before in New York when a young 
man came down the aisle and asked him to pray for Mm. 
He said he was the young man. The old saint said: "From 
what I have just seen I would suppose that you did not 
settle it." 

The young fellow said: "I did not and I never expect 
to. I believe there is a hell and I'm going there as fast 
as I can go." 

The old man begged him to keep still, but he said: 
"It is true. If Jesus Christ would come through that door 
now I would spit in Ms face." 


The old man said: "Don't talk that way. I would 
not stand to have you talk about my wife that way, and 
I will not stand it to have you talk about Christ that way." 
The young fellow said it was aH true. The old fellow said: 
" Maybe it is all true, but I do not like to hear it." The 
young fellow said it was true, and that if he had a Bible 
he would tear it up. With a string of oaths he went to 
the bar, took two or three drinks and went out the door. 

Sometimes it may be utter, absolute indifference. 
Some can hear any sermon and any song and not be moved. 
I'll venture that some of you have not been convicted of 
sin for twenty-five years. Back yonder the Spirit of God 
convicted you and you didn't yield. The first place I 
ever preached, in the little town of Garner, in Hancock 
county, Iowa, a man came down the aisle. I said, " Who's 
that?" and someone told me that he was one of the rich 
est men in the county. I asked him what I had said to 
help him, and he said nothing. Then he told me that 
twenty-one years ago he had gone to Chicago and sold his 
stock four hours before he had to catch a train. Moody 
was in town and with a friend he had gone and stood 
inside the door, listening to the sermon. When Moody 
gave the invitation he handed his coat and hat to his friend 
and said he was going down to give Moody his hand. The 
friend told him not to do it, that he would miss his train, 
and then the railroad pass would be no good after that 
day. He said he could afford to pay his way home. 

His friend told him not to go up there amid all the 
excitement, but to wait and settle it at home. He said 
he had waited thirty-five years and hadn't settled it at 
home, but the friend persisted against his going forward 
and giving his heart to God. Finally the time passed and 
they had to catch the train and the man hadn't gone for 
ward. He told me that he had never had a desire to give 
his heart to God until that time, twenty-one years later, 
when he heard me preach. The Spirit called him when 
he heard Moody, and then the Spirit did not call him 
again until twenty-one years later, when he heard me. 


I have never said and I never will say that all unbe 
lievers died in agony. Man ordinarily dies as he has lived* 
If you have lived in unbelief, ninety-nine cases out of one 
hundred you'll die that way. If Christianity is a good 
thing to die with it is a good thing to live with. 

Death-bed Confessions 

I don't go much on these death-bed confessions. A 
death-bed confession is like burning a candle at both ends 
and then blowing the smoke in the face of Jesus. A death 
bed confession is like drinking the cup of life and then offer 
ing the dregs to Christ. I think it is one of the most con 
temptible, miserable, low-down, unmanly and unwomanly 
things that you can do, to keep your life in your own con 
trol until the last moment and then try to creep into the 
kingdom on account of the long-suffering and mercy of 
Jesus Christ. I don't say that none is genuine. But 
there is only one on record in the Bible, and that was the 
first time the dying thief had ever heard of Christ, and he 
accepted at once. So your case is not analogous to this. 
You have wagon loads of sermons dumped into you, but it's 
a mighty hard thing to accept in the last moment. If you've 
lived without conviction, your friends ought not to- get 
mad when the preacher preaches your funeral sermon, if 
he doesn't put you in the front row in heaven, with a harp 
in your hands and a crown on your head. 

God can forgive sins but you have got to comply with 
his requirements. He is not willing that an> shall perish, but 
he has a right to tell me and you what to do to be saved. 

A doctor had been a practitioner for sixty years and 
he was asked how many Godless men he had seen show 
any trace of concern on their death-bed. He said he had 
kept track of three hundred and only three had shown 
any real concern. That is appalling to me. You ordi 
narily die as you have lived. 

A minister was called to a house of shame to be with 
a dying girl in her last momentso He prayed and then 


looked at her face and saw no signs of hope of repentance. 
He was led to pray again and this time he was led to put 
in a verse of scripture, Isaiah 1 : 18: "Come now and let 
us reason together, saith the Lord: Though your sins be 
as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they 
be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." 

"Is that what the Bible says?" the girl asked. He said 
it was. " Would you let me see it?" and the minister 
pointed it out to her. 

"Would you pray again and put in that verse?" the 
girl asked and as he started she called, "Stop! Let me 
put my finger on that verse*" The minister prayed and 
when he looked again, he saw hope and pardon and peace 
in the girl's face. "Pm so glad God made that s scarlet/ " 
she said, "for that means me." 

All manner of sins God will forgive. Then tell me 
why you will not come when God says, "All manner of 
sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men." Great 
heavens! I can't understand how you sit still. 

But a man says: "Bill, will He forgive a murderer? 
My hands are red with blood, although no one knows it." 
Didn't I say he forgave Paul? , 

A Forgiving God 

A friend of mine was preaching in Lansing, Michigan, 
one time, and in the middle section of the church there 
was a man who made him so nervous he couldn't watch 
him and preach. Nothing seemed to attract him until he 
said, "Supposing there were a murderer here tonight, God 
would forgive Mm if he accepted % Christ," and the man 
grabbed the chair in front of him at the word murderer 
and sat rigid throughout the sermon, never taking his eyes 
from my friend. At the end of the meeting my friend 
went down to him and asked him what was the matter, 
telling him that he had made him so nervous he could hardly 
preach. The man said: "I'm a murderer. I escaped 
through a technicality and I'm supporting the widow and 


children, but I am a murderer." My friend brought Mm 
to Jesus Christ and now that man is a power in the Church. 
All manner of sins God says he will forgive. 

Some say: "Mr. Sunday, why is it that so few aged 
sinners are converts?" 

Infidels when asked this, seize upon it as a plan of 
attack. When God begins to show his power, then the 
devil and all of the demons of hell get busy. That's the 
best evidence in the world that these meetings are doing 
good, when that bunch of knockers gets busy. Infidels 
sneer and say: "How does it happen that when a man's 
mind has developed through age and experience and contact 
with the world, and he has passed the period of youthful 
enthusiasm, how does it happen that so few of them are 

Religion makes its appeal to your sensibility, not to 
your intellect. The way into the kingdom of heaven is 
heart first, not head first. God is not an explanation; God 
is a revelation. 

A grain of corn is a revelation, but you can't explain 
it. You know that if you put the vegetable kingdom in 
the mineral kingdom the vegetable will be bom again, but 
you can't explain it. Some of the greatest things are reve 
lations. Therefore, instead of being an argument against 
religion, it is an argument for it. 

Don't you know that sixteen out of twenty who are 
converted are converted before they are twenty years old? 
Don't you know that eighteen out of thirty who are con 
verted are converted before they are 'thirty years old? 
Don't you know that? 

What does that prove? It proves that if you are 
not converted before you are thirty years old the chances 
are about 100,000 to one that you never will be converted. 

Power of Revivals 

Most people are converted at special revival services. 
I want to hurl this in the teeth, cram it down the throats 


of those who sneer at revival efforts preachers included. 
Almost nine-tenths of the Christians at this meeting were 
converted at a revival. What does that show? It shows 
that if yon are thirty and have not been converted, the 
chances are that if you are not converted at this revival 
you never will be converted. 

If it weren't for revivals, just think of what hell would 
be like. Then think of any low-down, God-forsaken, 
dirty gang knocking a revival. 

God says: "You can spurn my love and trample the 
blood under your feet, but if you seek my pardon I will 
forgive you." You might have been indifferent to the 
appeals of the minister, you might have been a thief, or 
an adulterer, or a blasphemer, or a scoffer, and all that, 
but God says: "I will forgive you." You might have 
been indifferent to the tears of poor wife and children and 
friends, but if you will seek God he will forgive you. 

But when He came down and revealed himself as the 
Son of God through the Holy Spirit, if you sneer and say 
it is not true, your sin may become unpardonable. If you 
don't settle it here you never will settle it anywhere else. 

I will close with a word of comfort and a word of 
warning. If you have a desire to be a Christian it is proof 
that the devil hasn't got you yet. That is the comfort. 
Now for the warning: If you have that desire thank God 
for it and yield to it. You may never have another chance. 

Eternity! Eternity! 

I tell you a lot of people are going to be fooled on the Day of Judgment. 

ONLY a man to whom has been given eloquence and 
a dramatic instinct can drive home to the average 
mind the realities of eternity and its relation to 
right living in this world and time. Under the title "What 
Shall the End Be?" Sunday has widely circulated Ms 
message upon this theme: 

No book ever came by luck or chance. Every book 
owes its existence to some being or beings, and within the 
range and scope of human intelligence there are but three 
things good, bad and God. All that originates in intellect; 
all which the intellect can comprehend, must come from one 
of the three. This book, the Bible, could not possibly be 
the product of evil, wicked, godless, corrupt, vile men, for 
it pronounces the heaviest penalties against sin. Like 
produces like, and if bad men were writing the Bible they 
never would have pronounced condemnation and punish 
ment against wrong-doing. So that is pushed aside. 

The holy men of old, we are told, spake as they were 
moved by the Holy Ghost. Men do not attribute these 
beautiful and matchless and well-arranged sentences to 
human intelligence alone, but we are told that men spake 
as they were inspired by the Holy Ghost. 

The only being left, to whom you, or I or any sensible 
person could ascribe the origin of the Bible, is God, for here 
is a book, the excellence of which rises above other books, 
like mountains above molehills a book whose brilliancy 
and life-giving power exceed the accumulated knowledge 



and combined efforts of men, as the sun exceeds the Iamp 3 

winch, is but a base imitation of the sun's glory. Here is a 
book that tells me where I came from and where I am going, 
a book without which I would not know of my origin or 
destiny, except as I might glean it from the dim outlines of 
reason or nature, either or both of which would be unsatis 
factory to me. Here is a book that tells me what to do and 
what not to do. 

Men Believe in God 

Most men believe in God. Now and then you find 
a man who doesn't, and he's a fool, for "The fool hath said 
in his heart, there is no God." Most men have sense. 
Occasionally you will find a fool, or an infidel, who doesn't 
believe in God. Most men believe in a God that will reward 
the right and punish the wrong; therefore it is clear what 
attitude you ought to assume toward my message tonight, 
for the message I bring to you is not from human reason or 
intelligence, but from God's Book. 

"What shall the end be of them that obey not the 
gospel of God?" Now listen, and I will try to help you. 
Israel's condition was desperate. Peter told them that if 
they continued to break God's law, they would merit his 
wrath. I can imagine him crying out in the words of Jere 
miah: "What will you do in the swelling of the Jordan?" 
I hear fa' cry in the words of Solomon: "The way of the 
transgressor is hard." That seems to have moved him, 
and I can hear him cry in the words of my text: "What 
shall the end be of them that obey not the gospel of God?" 

There are those who did obey. Peter knew what then- 
end would be blessings here and eternal life hereafter 
but he said, "What shall the end be of them that obey not?" 

A man said, "I cannot be a Christian. I cannot obey 
God." That is not true. That would make God out a 
demon and a wretch. God says if you are not a Christian 
you will be doomed. If God asked mankind to do some 
thing, and he knew when he asked them that they could 


not do it, and he told them he would damn them if they 
didn't do it, it would make God out a demon and a wretch, 
and I will not allow you or any other man to stand up and 
insult my God. You can be a Christian if you want to, 
and it is your cussedness that you are unwilling to give up 
that keeps you away from God. 

Supposing I should go on top of a building and say to my 
little baby boy, "Fly up to me.' 3 If he could talk, he would 
say, "I can't." And supposing I would say, "But you can; 
if you don't, I'll whip you to death." When I asked him to 
do it, I knew he couldn't, yet I told him I would whip him to 
death if he didn't, and in saying that I would, as an earthly 
father, be just as reasonable as God would be if he should 
ask you to do something you couldn't do, and though he 
knew when he asked you that you couldn't do it, neverthe 
less would damn you if you didii't do it. 

Don't tell God you can't. Just say you don't want to be, 
a Christian, that's the way to be a man. Just say, "I dca't 
want to be decent; I don't want to quit cussiag; I don't 
want to quit booze-fighting; I don't want to quit lying; I 
don't want to quit committing adultery. If I should be a 
Christian I would have to quit all these things, and I don't 
want to do it." Tell God you are not man enough to be a 
Christian. Don't try to saddle it off on the Lord. You 
don't want to do it, that's all; that's the trouble with you. 

At the Cross 

A man in a town in Ohio came and handed one of the 
ministers a letter, and he said, "I want you to read that 
when you get home." When the minister got home he 
opened it and it read like this: 

" I was at the meeting last night, and somehow or other, 
the words 'What shall the end be?' got hold of me, and 
troubled me. I went to bed, but couldn't sleep. I got up 
and went to my library. I took down my books on infidelity 
and searched them through and searched through the writ 
ings of Voltaire, and Darwin,* and^Spencer, and Strauss, and 


Huxley, and Tyndall, and through the lectures of Ingersoll, 
but none of them could answer the cry and longing of my 
heart, and I turn to you. Is there help? Where will I find 
it?" And that man found it where every man ever has, or 
ever will find it, down at the Cross of Jesus Christ, and I 
have been praying God that might be the experience of many 
a man and woman in this Tabernacle. 

Ever since God saved my soul and sent me out to preach, 
I have prayed him to enable me to pronounce two words, and 
put into those words all they will mean to you; if they ever 
become a reality, God pity you. One word is "Lost," and 
the other is " Eternity.' ? 

Ten thousand years from now we will all be somewhere. 
Ten thousand times ten thousand times ten thousand years, 
the eternity has just begun. Increase the multiple and you 
will only increase the truth. If God should commission a 
bird to carry this earth, particle by particle, to yonder planet, 
making a round trip once in a thousand years, and if, after 
the bird had performed that task God should prolong its 
life, and it would carry the world back, particle by particle, 
making a round trip once in a thousand years, and put; 
everything back as it was originally, after it had accomplished 
its task, you would have been five minutes in eternity; and 
yet you sit there with just a heart-beat between you and the 
judgment of God. I have been praying that God would 
enable me to pronounce those two words and put in them all 
they will mean to you, that I might startle you from your 
lethargy. I prayed God, too, that he might give me some 
new figure of speech tonight, that he might impress my mind, 
that I, in turn, might impress your mind in such a manner 
that I could startle you from your indifference and sin, until 
you would rush to Jesus. 

The Judgment of God 

What is your life? A hand's breadth yes, a hair's 
breadth yes, one single heart-beat, and you are gone, and 
yet you sit with the judgment of God hovering over you. 
"What shall the end be?" 


I never met any man or woman In my life who disbe- 
Eeved in Christianity but could not be classified under one 
of these two headings, 

First They who, because of an utter disregard of God's 
claims upon their lives, have, by and through that disregard, 
become poltroons, marplots or degenerate scoundrels, and 
have thrown themselves beyond the pale of God's mercy. 

Second Men and women with splendid, noble and 
magnificent abilities, which they have allowed to become 
absorbed in other matters, and they do not give to the sub 
jects of religion so much as passing attention. They have 
the audacity to claim for themselves an intellectual superior 
ity to those who believe the Bible, which they sneeringly 
term ' that superstition." But, listen! I will challenge 
you. If you will bring to religion or to the divinity of Jesus, 
or the salvation of your soul, the same honest inquiry you 
demand of yourself in other matters, you will know God is 
God; you will know the Bible is the Word of God, and you 
will know that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. You will 
know that you are a sinner on the road to hell, and you will 
turn from your sins. But you don't give to religion, you 
don't demand of yourself, the same amount of research that 
you would demand of yourself if you were going to buy a 
piece of property, to find out whether or not the title was per 
fect. You wouldn't buy it if you didn't know the title was 
without a flaw, and yet you will pass the Bible by and claim 
you have more sense than the person who does investigate 
and finds out, accepts and is saved. 

Glad Tidings to All 

What is the Gospel that the people ought to obey it? 
It is good news, glad tidings of salvation, through Jesus 

Oh, but somebody says, do you call the news of that 
book that I am on the road to hell, good news? No, sir ; that 
in itself is not good news, but since it is the truth, the sooner 
you find out the better it will be for you. 


Supposing you are wandering, lost in a swamp, and a 
man would come to you and say: "You are lost." That 
wouldn't help you. But supposing the man said: " You are 
lost; I am a guide; I know the way out. If you put your 
self in my care, I will lead you back to your home, back to 
your loved ones. " That would meet your condition. 

Now God doesn't tell you that you are lost, and on the 
road to hell, and then leave you, but he tells you that you 
are on the road to hell, and he says, "I have sent a guide, my 
Son, to lead you out, and to lead you back to peace and salva 
tion." That's good news, that God is kind enough to tell 
you that you are lost, and on the road to hell, and that he 
sends a guide, who, if you will submit, will lead you out of 
your condition and lead you to peace and salvation. That's 
gospel; that's good news that tells a man that he needn't go 
to hell unless he wants to. 

When the Israelites were bitten by the serpents in the 
wilderness, wasn't if good news for them to know that 
Moses had raised up a brazen serpent and bid them all to 
look and be healed? 

When the flood came, wasn't it good news for Noah to 
know that he would be saved in the ark? 

When the city of Jericho was going to fall, wasn't it 
good news to Rahab. She had been kind and had hid two of 
God's servants who were being pursued as spies. They were 
running across the housetops to get away to the wall to drop 
down, and Rahab covered them, on top of her house, with 
grass and corn, and when the men came they could not find 
them. After the men had gone, Rahab gave them cord and 
lowered them down the wall, and God said to her, " Because 
you did that for my servants, I will save you and your house 
hold when I take the city of Jericho. What I want you to 
do is to hang a scarlet line out of your window and I will 
save all that are under your roof." Wasn't it good news 
to her to know that she and all her household would be saved 
by hanging a scarlet line out of the window? Never has 
such news been published. "Thou shalt call Ms name 


Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins." It was 
good news, but never has such news reached the world as 
that man need not go to hell, for God has provided re 
demption for them that will accept of it and be saved, 

Supposing a man owed you $5,000 and he had nothing 
to pay it with. You would seize him and put him in jail, and 
supposing while there, your own son would come and say: 
" Father, how much does he owe you?" "Five thousand 
dollars." And your son would pay it and the man would 
be released. 

Ah, my friends, hear me! We were all mortgaged to 
God, had nothing with which to pay, and inflexible justice 
seized upon us and put us in the prison of condemnation,, 
God took pity on us. He looked around to find some one 
to pay our debts. Jesus Christ stepped forward and said: 
'Til go; I'll become bone of their bone and flesh of their 
flesh." God gave man the Mosaic law. Man broke the 

If a Jew violated the law he was compelled to bring a 
turtle dove, or pigeon, or heifer, or bullock to the high priest 
for a sacrifice, and the shedding of its blood made atonement 
for his sins. Once a year the high priest would kill the 
sacrifice, putting it on the altar. That made atonement 
for the sins of the people during the year. Then they would 
put their hand on the head of the scape-goat, and lead it 
out into the wilderness. 

The Atonement of Christ 

Jesus Christ came into the world, born of a woman. 
When he shed his blood, he made atonement for our sins. 
God says, "If you will accept Jesus Christ as your Saviour, 
I will put it to your credit as though you kept the law." 
And it's Jesus Christ or hell for every man or woman on God 
Almighty's dirt. There is no other way whereby you can be 
saved. It's good news that you don't have to go to hell, 
unless you want to. 

When the North German Lloyd steamer, the Mbe, went 


down in the North Sea, years and years ago, only nineteen 
of her passengers and crew were saved. Among them was a 
county commissioner who lived in Cleveland, Ohio, and when 

he reached the little English town he sent a cablegram to 
his wife, in which he said, "The Elbe is lost; I am saved." 
She crumpled that cablegram, ran down the street to her 
neighbors, and as she ran she waved it above her head and 
cried, "He's saved! He's saved! 3 ' That cablegram is 
framed, and hangs upon the walls of their beautiful Euclid 
Avenue home. It was good news to her that he whom she 
loved was saved. 

Good news I bring you. Good news I bring you, 
people. You need not go to hell if you will accept the Christ 
that I preach to you. 

"What shall the end b^ of them that obey not the 
gospel?" And the gospel of God is, "Rq3^ 
go to hell." "What shall the end be of th^rthaTobey*noit 
the gospel?" What is the gospel, and what is it to obey the 
gospel? We have seen that it is good news; now what is it 
to obey? What was it for Israel to obey? Look at the 
brazen serpent on the pole. What was it for Noah to obey? 
Build the ark and get into it. What was it for Rahab to 
obey? Hang a scarlet line out of the window, and God 
would pass her by when he took the city of Jericho. All that 
was obeying. It was believing God's message and obeying. 

Ah ! I see a man. He walks to the banks of the Seine, 
in Paris, to end his life. He walked to the bank four times, 
but he didn't plunge in. He filled a cup with poison, three 
times raised it to his lips, but he did not drink. He cocked 
the pistol, put it against his temple. He did that twice, but 
he didn't pull the trigger. He heard the story of Jesus 
Christ and dropped on his knees, and William Cowper 

"God moves in a mysterious way, 

His wonders to perform; 
He plants his footsteps in the sea^ 
And rides upon the stonn 


"There is a fountain failed with blood, 

Drawn from ImmanuePs veins; 
And sinners plunged beneath that flood, 
Lose all their guilty strains." 

So that's what you found, is it, Cowper? 

I go to Bridgeport, Connecticut. I rap at a humble 
home and walk into the presence of Fanny J. Crosby, the 
blind hymn-writer. She has written over six thousand 
hymns. She never saw the light of day, was born blind, and 
I say to her, "Oh, Miss Crosby, tell me that I may tell the 
people what you have found by trusting in the finished work 
of Jesus Christ? You have sat in darkness for ninety-four 
years; tell me, Miss Crosby." And that face lights up like 
a halo of glory; those sightless eyes flash, and she cries: 

"Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine; 
Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!" 

"Pass me not, O gentle Saviour, 
Hear my humble cry!" 

"Jesus keep me near the cross, 
There's a precious fountain." 

"Once I was blind, but now I can see, 
The light of the world is Jesus." 

"And I shall see Him, face to face, 
And tell the story, Saved by Grace." 

I go to Wesley as he walks along the banks of a stream, 
while the storm raged, the lightning flashed and the thunder 
roared. The birds were driven, in fright, from their refuge 
in the boughs of the trees. A little bird took refuge in his 
coat. Wesley held it tenderly, walked home, put it in a cage, 
kept it until morning, carried it out, opened the door and 
watched it as it circled around and shot off for its mountain 
home. He returned to his house and wrote: 

"Jesus, lover of my soul, 
Let me to thy bosom fly." 



What have you found by trusting in the finished work 
of Jesus Christ? 

God's Word 

It is said of Napoleon that one day he was riding in 
review before his troops, when the horse upon which he sat 
became iinmain.agea.b1e, seized the bit in his teeth, dashed down 
the road and the life of the famous warrior was in danger. 
A private, at the risk oi a his life, leaped out and seized the 

runaway horse, 
while Napoleon, out 
of gratitude, raised 
in the stirrups, sa 
luted and said, 
"Thank you, cap 
tain." The man 
said, "Captain of 
what, sir?" "Cap 
tain of my Life 
Guards, sir," said 

The man step 
ped over to where 
the Life Guards 
were in consultation 
back into the ranks. 
He refused to go and issued orders to the officer by saying, 
"I am Captain of the Guards." Thinking him insane, they 
ordered Ms arrest and were dragging him away, when Napo 
leon rode up and the man said, "I am Captain of the Guards 
because the Emperor said so." And Napoleon arose and said, 
"Yes, Captain of my Life Guards. Loose him, sir; loose 

I am a Christian because God says so, and I did what he 
told me to do, and I stand on God's Word and if that book 
goes down, 111 go down with it. If God goes down, 111 go 



with him, and if there were any other kind of God, except that 
God, I would have been shipwrecked long ago. Twenty- 
seven years ago in Chicago I piled all I had, my reputa 
tion, my character, my wife, children, home; I staked my 
soul; everything I had, on the God of that Bible, and the 
Christ of that Bible, and I won. 

"What shall the end be of them that obey not the 
gospel of God?" Hear me! There are three incomprehen 
sibilities to me. Don't think there are only three things 
I don't know, or don't you think that I think there are only 
three things I don't know. I say, there are three things that 
I cannot comprehend. 

Eternity and Space 

First Eternity; that something away off yonder, 
somewhere. You will think it will end. It leads on, on, on 
and on. I can take a billion, I can subtract a minion; I 
can take a million or a billion, or a quadrillion, or a septil- 
lion of years from eternity, and I haven't as much as dis 
turbed its original terms. Minds trained to deal with 
intricate problems will go reeling back in their utter inability 
to comprehend eternity. 

And there is space. When you go out tonight, look up 
at the moon, 240,000 miles away. Walking forty miles a 
day, I could reach the moon, in seventeen years, but the 
moon is one of our near neighbors. Ah, you saw the sun 
today, 92,900,000 miles away. I couldn't walk to the sun. 
If I could charter a fast train, going fifty miles an hour, it 
would take the train two hundred and fifteen years to 
reach the sun. 

In the early morn you will see a star, near the sun 
Mercury 91,000,000 miles away; travels around the sun 
once in eighty-eight days, going at the speed of 110,000 miles 
an hour, as it swings in its orbit. ' 

Next is Venus; she is beautiful; 160,000,000 miles away, 
travels around the sun once in 224 days, going at the rate of 
79,000 miles an hour, as she swings in her orbit. 


Then comes the earth, the planet upon which we live, 
and as you sit there, this old earth travels around the sun 
once in 365 days, or one calendar year, going at the speed of 
68,000 miles an hour, and as you sit there and I stand here, 
this old planet is swinging in her orbit 68,000 miles an hour, 
and she is whirling on her axis nineteen miles a second. By 
force of gravity we are held from falling into illimitable 

Yonder is Mars, 260,000,000 miles away. Travels 
around the sun once in 687 days, or about two years, going 
at the speed of 49,000 miles an hour. Who knows but that 
it is inhabited by a race unsullied by sin, untouched by 

Yonder another, old Jupiter, champion of the skies, 
sashed and belted around with vapors of light. Jupiter, 
480,000,000 miles away, travels around the sun once in 
twelve years, going at the speed of 30,000 miles an hour. 
I need something faster than an express train, going fifty 
miles an hour, or a cyclone, going one hundred miles an hour. 
If I could charter a Pullman palace car and couple it to a 
ray of light, which travels at the speed of 192,000 miles a 
second if I could attach my Pullman palace car to a ray of 
light, I could go to Jupiter and get back tomorrow morning 
for breakfast at nine o'clock, but Jupiter is one of our near 

Yonder is old Saturn, 885,000,000 miles away* Travels 
around the sun once in twenty years, going at the speed of 
21,000 miles an hour. 

Away yonder, I catch a faint glimmer of another stu 
pendous world, as it swings in its tireless and prodigious 
journey. Old Uranus, 1,780,000,000 miles away. Travels 
around the sun once in eighty-four years, going at the speed 
of two hundred and fifty miles an hour. 

As the distance of the planets from the sun increases, 
their velocity in their orbit correspondingly decreases. 

I say is that all? I hurry to Chicago and take the 
Northwestern. I rush out to Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, I 


climb into the Yerkes observatory, and I turn the most 
ponderous telescope in the world to the skies, and away out 
on the frontier of the universe, on the very outer rim of the 
world, I catch a faint glimmer of Neptune, 2,790,000,000 
miles away. Travels around the sun once in one hundred and 
sixty-four years, going at the speed of two hundred and ten 
miles an hour. If I could step on the deck of a battleship 
and aim a 13-inch gun, and that projectile will travel 1,500 
miles in a minute, it would take it three hundred and sixty 
years to reach that planet. 

Away out yonder is Alpha Centauri. If I would attach 
my palace car to a ray of light and go at the speed of 192,000 
miles a second, it would take me three years to reach that 
planet. An express train, going thirty miles an hour, would 
be 80,000,000 years pulling into Union depot at Alpha 

Yonder, the Polar or the North star. Traveling at a 
rate of speed of 192,000 miles a second, it would take me 
forty-five years to reach that planet. And if I would go to 
the depot and buy a railroad ticket to the North star, and 
pay three cents a mile, it would cost me $720,000,000 for 
railroad fare to go to that planet. 

"Oh, God, what is man, that thou art mindful of him?" 
And the fool, the fool, the fool hath said in his heart, " There 
is no God." I'm not an infidel, because I am no fool. "The 
Heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth 
his handiwork." I don't believe an infidel ever looked 
through a telescope or studied astronomy. 

" What is man, that thou are mindful of him? " These 
are days when it is "Big man, little God." These are days 
when it is gigantic "I," and pigmy "God." These are days 
when it is "Ponderous man, infinitesimal God." 

There are 1,400,000 people on earth. You are one of 
that number, so am I. None of us amount to much. What 
do you or I amount to out of 1,400,000,000 people? If I 
could take an auger and bore a hole in the top of the sun, I 
could pour into the sun 1,400,000,000 worlds the size of the 


planet upon which we live, and there would be room in the 
sun for more. Then think of the world, and God made that 
world, the God that you cuss, the God that wants to keep you 
out of hell, the God whose Son you have trampled beneath 
your feet. 

If you take 1,400,000,000, multiply it by 1,400,000, 
multiply that by 1,000,000, multiply that by millions, multi 
ply that by infinity, that's God. If you take 1,400,000,000, 
subtract 1,400,000, subtract millions, subtract, subtract, 
subtract, subtract on down, that's you. If ever a man ap 
pears like a consummate ass and an idiot, it's when he says 
he don't believe in a God or tries to tell God Ms plan of 
redemption don't appeal to him. 

God's Infinite Love 

And the third : The third is the love of God to a lost and 
sin-cursed world and man's indifference to God's love. 
How he has trampled God's love beneath his feet, I don't 
understand. I don't understand why you have grown 
gray-haired, and are not a Christian. I don't understand 
why you know right from wrong, and still are not a Christian. 
I don't understand it. Listen! What is it to obey the Gos 
pel? The Gospel is good news, and to obey it is to believe in 
Jesus. What is it not to obey? What was the end of those 
who weren't in the ark with Noah? They found a watery 
grave. What was the end of those who didn't look at the 
brazen serpent in the wilderness? They died. What was 
the end of those who were not with Rahab when she hung out 
the scarlet line? They perished. 

When a man starts on a journey he has one object in 
pew the end. A journey is well, if it ends well We are 
fill on a journey to eternity. What will be the end? My 
text doesn't talk about the present. Your present is, or 
may be, an enviable position in church, club life, or commer 
cial life, lodge, politics; your presence may be sought after 
to grace every social gathering. God doesn't care about 
that. What shall the end be? When all that is gone, when 


pleasures pass away, and sorrow and weeping and Bailing 
take their place, what shall the end be? 

Some people deny that their suffering in the other world 
will be eternal fire. Do you think your scoffs can extinguish 
the flames of hell? Do you think you can annihilate hell 
because you don't believe in it? We have a few people who 
say, "Matter is non-existent/ 3 but that doesn't do away with 
the fact that matter is existent, just because we have some 
people who haven't sense enough to see it. You say, "I 
don't believe there is a hell," Well, there is, whether you 
believe it or not. You say, "I don't believe Jesus Christ 
is the Son of God." Well, he is, whether you believe it or 
not. Some people say, "I don't believe there is a heaven." 
There is, whether you believe it or not. You say, "I don't 
believe the Bible is the Word of God." Well, it is, and your 
disbelief does not change the fact, and the sooner you wake up 
to that the better for you. I might say that I don't believe 
George Washington ever lived. I never saw him, but it 
wouldn't do away with the fact that he did live, and George 
Washington lies buried on the banks of the Potomac. You 
say you don't believe there is a hell, but that doesn't do away 
with the fact that there is a hell. 

What difference does it make whether the fire in hell is 
literal, or the fittest emblem God could employ to describe 
to us the terrible punishment? Do you believe the streets 
of heaven are paved with literal gold? Do you believe that? 
When we talk about gold we all have high and exalted ideas. 
How do you know but that God said "streets of gold" 
in order to convey to us the highest ideal our minds could 
conceive of beauty? It doesn't make any difference whether 
the gold on the streets in heaven is literal or not. What 
difference does it make whether the fire in hel is literal or 
not? When we talk about fire everybody shrinks from it. 
Suppose God used that term as figurative to convey to you 
the terror of hell. You are a fool to test the reality of it. 
It must be an awful place if God loved us well enough to 
give Jesus to keep us out of there. I don't want to go there. 


_JPreparing"for Eternity 

I said to a fellow one TEne^Dou't you think that pos 
sibly there is a hell?" 

He said, "Well, yes, possibly there may be a hell." 

I said, "It's pretty good sense, then, to get ready for the 
maybe.' ' Well, just suppose there is a hell It's good sense 
to get ready, them, even for the "maybe." I don't look like 
a man that would die very quickly, do I? I have just as 
good a physique as you ever gazed at. I wouldn't trade with 
any man I know. A lot of you fellows are stronger than I, 
but I have as good a physique as ever you looked at. I have 
been preaching at this pace for fourteen years, and I've stood 
it, although I begin to feel myself failing a little bit. But I 
don't look like a man who would die quickly, do I? But I 
may die, and on that possibility I carry thousands of dollars 
of life insurance. I don't believe that any man does right 
to himself, his wife or Ms children if he doesn't provide for 
them with life insurance, so when he is gone they will not be 
thrown upon the charity of the world. And next to my faith, 
if I should die tonight, that which would give me the most 
comfort would be the knowledge that I have in a safe deposit 
vault in Chicago life insurance papers, paid up to date, and 
my wife could cash in and she and the babies could listen to 
the wolves howl for a good many years. I don't expect to 
die soon, but I may die, and on that "may " I carry thousands 
of dollars in life insurance. 

I take a train to go home, I don't expect the train to be 
wrecked, but it may be wrecked, and on that "maybe" 
I carry $10,000 a year in an accident policy. It may go in 
the ditch. That's good sense to get ready for the "maybe." 
Are you a business man? Do you carry insurance on your 
stock? Yes. On the building? Yes. Do you expect it to 
burn? No, sir. But it may burn, so you are ready for it. 
Every ship is compelled, by law, to carry life-preservers 
and life-boats equal to the passenger capacity. They don't 
expect the ship to sink, but it may sink and they are ready 
for the "may." All right, There may be a hell. I'm ready; 


where do you get off at? I have you beat any way you can 
look at it. 

Suppose there is no hell? Suppose that when we die 
that ends it? I don't believe it does. I believe there is a 
hell and I believe there is a heaven, and just the kind of a 
heaven and hell that book says. But suppose there is no 
hell? Suppose death is eternal sleep? I believe the Bible; I 
believe its teachings; I have the best of you in this life. I 
will live longer, be happier, and have lost nothing by believ 
ing and obeying the Bible, even if there is no hell. But 
suppose there is a hell? Then I'm saved and you are the 
fool. I have you beat again. 

"What shall the end be of them that obey not the 
gospel of God." What will some do? Some will be stoical, 
some will whimper, some will turn for human sympathy. 
Let God answer the question. You would quarrel with me. 
" A lake of fire" and "a furnace of fire." " In hell he lifted up 
his eyes, being in torment." "Eternal damnation." "The 
smoke of their torment ascendeth forever and ever." Let 
God answer the question. "What shall be the end of them 
that obey not the gospel of God"? Will you say, "God, I 
didn't have time enough " ? " Behold ! Now is the accepted 
time." Will you say, "God, I had no light? " But "light is 
come into the world, and men love darkness rather than 

I stand on the shores of eternity and cry out, "Eternity! 
Eternity ! How long, how long art thou? " Back comes the 
answer, "How long?" 

"How long sometimes a day appears and weeks, how long are they? 
They move as if the months and years would never pass away; 
But months and years are passing by, and soon must all be gone, 
Day by day, as the moments fly, eternity comes on. 
All these must have an end; eternity has none, 
It will always have as long to run as when it first begun." 

"What shall be the end of them that obey not the 
Gospel of God?" 


When Voltaire, the famous infidel, lay dying, he sum 
moned the physician and said, " Doctor, I will give you all 
I have to save my life six months." 

The doctor said, "You can't live six hours." 
Then said Voltaire, "I'll go to hell and you'll go with 

A Leap in the Dark 

Hobbes, the famous English infidel, said: "I am taking 
a leap into the night." 

When King Charles IX, who gave the order for the 
massacre of St. Bartholomew's day, when blood ran like 
water and 130,000 fell dead, when King Charles lay dying, he 
cried out, "O God, how will it end? Blood, blood, rivers of 
blood. I am lost!" And with a shriek he leaped into hell. 

King Philip of Spain said; "I wish to God I had never 
lived," and then in a sober thought he said: "Yes, I wish I 
had, but that I had lived in the fear and love of God." 

Wesley said, "I shall be satisfied when I awake in His 

Florence A. Foster said, "Mother, the hilltops are 
covered with angels; they beckon me homeward; I bid you 

Frances E. Willard cried, "How beautiful to die and be 
with God." 

Moody cried: "Earth recedes, heaven opens, God is 
calling me. This is to be my coronation day." 

Going to the World's Fair in Chicago, a special train on 
the Grand Trunk, going forty miles an hour, dashed around 
a curve at Battle Creek, and headed in on a sidetrack where 
a freight train stood. The rear brakeman had forgotten to 
close the switch and the train rounded the curve, dashed into 
the open switch and struck the freight train loaded with 
iron, and there was an awful wreck. The cars telescoped and 
the flames rushed out. Pinioned in the wreck, with steel 
girders bent around her, was a woman who lived in New 
York. Her name was Mrs. Van Dusen. She removed her 


diamond ear-rings, took her gold watch and chain from about 
her neck, slipped her rings from her fingers and handing 
ut her purse gave her husband's address, and then said: 
" Gentlemen, stand back! I am a Christian and I will die 
like a Christian." 

They leaped to their task. They tore like demons to 
liberate her and she started to sing, 

"My heavenly home is bright^and fair. 
I'm going to die no more." 

Strong men, who had looked into the cannon's mouth, 
fainted. She cried out, above the roar of the wind and the 
shrieks of the dying men, "Oh, men, don't imperil your lives 

for me. I am a Christian and I will die like a Christian! 

Stand back, men," and then she began to sing, "Nearer, My 
God, to Thee." 

" The End Thereof 

"There is a way that seemeth right unto man, but the 
end thereof are the ways of death." Moses may have made 
some mistakes, but I want to tell you Moses never made a 
mistake when he wrote these words: "Their rock is not as 
our Rock, even our enemies themselves being the judges. ' ' 
He never made a mistake when he wrotethese words. I say to 
you, you are going to live on and on until the constellations 
of the heavens are snuffed out. You are going to live on and 
on until the rocks crumble into dust through age. You are 
going to live on and on and on, until the mountain peaks are 
incinerated and blown by the breath of God to the four 
corners of infinity. "What shall the end be?" Listen! 

I used to live in Pennsylvania, and of the many wonder 
ful things for which this wonderful state has been noted, 
not the least is the fact that most always she has had godly 
men for governors, and one of the most magnificent examples 
of godly piety that ever honored this state was Governor 


Pollock. When he was governor, a young man, in a drunken 
brawl, shot a companion. He was tried and sentenced to be 
executed. They circulated a petition, brought it to Harris- 
burg to the governor, and the committee that waited upon 
the governor, among them some of his own friends, pleaded 
with him to commute the sentence to life imprisoment. 
Governor Pollock listened to their pleadings and said, 
" Gentlemen, I can't do it. The law must take its course." 
Then the ministers Catholic and Protestantbrought a 
petition, and among the committee was the governor's own 
pastor. He approached him in earnestness, put a hand on 
either shoulder, begged, prayed to God to give him wisdom 
to grant the request. Governor Pollock listened to their 
petition, tears streamed down his cheeks and he said, 
" Gentlemen, I can't do it. I can't; I can't." 

At last the boy's mother came. Her 'eyes were red, her 
cheeks sunken, her lips ashen, her hair disheveled, her cloth 
ing unkempt, her body tottering from the loss of food and 
sleep. Broken-hearted, she reeled, staggered and dragged 
herself into the presence of the governor. She pleaded for 
her boy. She said, ' ' Oh, governor, let me die. Oh, governor, 
let him go; let me behind the bars. Oh, governor, I beg of 
you to let my boy go; don't, don't hang him!" And Gover 
nor Pollock listened. She staggered to his side, put her 
arms around him. He took her arms from his shoulder, held 
her at arms 3 length, looked into her face and said to her: 
"Mother, mother, I can't do it, I can't," and he ran from her 
presence. She screamed and fell to the floor and they 
carried her out. 

Governor Pollock said to his secretary, "John, if I can't 
pardon him I can tell him how to die." He went to the cell, 
opened God's Word, prayed, talked of Jesus. Heaven bent 
near, the angels waited, and then on lightning wing sped 
back to glory with the glad tidings that a soul was born 
again. And the governor left, wishing him well for the 
ordeal. Shortly after he had gone, the prisoner said to the 
watchman^ "Who was that man that talked and prayed with 


me? " He said, " Great God, man, don't you know? That 
was Governor Pollock. " He threw his hands to his head and 
cried: "My God! My God! The governor here and I 
didn't know it? Why didn't you tell me that was the 
governor and I would have thrown my arms about him, 
buried my fingers in his flesh and would have said, ' Gover 
nor, 111 not let you go unless you pardon me; 111 not let 
you go. 5 " A few days later, when he stood at the scaffold, 
feet strapped, hands tied, noose about his neck, black cap and 
shroud on, just before the trap was sprung he cried, "My 
God! The governor there and I " He shot down. 

You can't stand before God in the Judgment and say, 
"Jesus, were you down there in the tabernacle? In my home? 
In my lodge? Did you want to save me?" Behold! Be 
hold! A greater than the governor is here. Jesus Christ, 
the Son of God, and he waits to be gracious. 

"What shall the end be of them that obey not the 
gospel of God?" 


Our Long Home 

Don't let God tang a "For Rent" sign on the mansion that has been 
prepared for you in heaven. BILLY SUNDAY, 

VIVID, literal and comforting, is Sunday's portrayal 
of the Christian's long home. He is one of the 
few preachers who depict heaven so that it minis 
ters to earth. Countless thousands of Christians have 
been comforted by Ms realistic pictures of "the land that is 
fairer than day." 


What do I want most of all? A man in Chicago said 
to me one day, "If I could have all I wanted of any one thing 
I would take money." He would be a fool, and so would 
you if you would make a similar choice. There's lots of 
things money can't do. Money can't buy life; money can't 
buy health, Andrew Carnegie says, "Anyone who can 
assure men ten years of life can name his price." 

If you should meet with an accident which would 
require a surgical operation or your life would be despaired 
of, there is not a man here but would gladly part with 
all the money he has if that would give him the assurance 
that he could live twelve months longer. 

If you had all the money in the world you couldn't 
go to the graveyard and put those loved ones back in your 
arms and have them sit once more in the family circle and 
hear their voices and listen to their prattle. 

A steamer tied up at her wharf, having just returned 
from an expedition, and as the people walked down the plank 
their friends met them to congratulate them on their success 
or encourage them through their defeat. Down came a 
man I used to know in Fargo, S* D. Friends rushed 


up and said, "Wfay? we hear that you were very for 

"Yes, wife and I left here six months ago with hardly 
anything. Now we have $350,000 in gold dust in the hold 
of the ship." 

Then somebody looked around and said, "Mr* L , 

where is your little boy?" 

The tears rolled down his cheeks and he said, "We left 
him buried on the banks of the Yukon beneath the snow 
and ice, and we would gladly part with all the gold, if we 
only had our boy." 

But all the wealth of the Klondike could not open the 
grave and put that child back in their arms. Money can't 
buy the peace of God that passeth understanding. Money 
can't take the sin out of your life. 

Is there any particular kind of life you would like? 
If you could live one hundred years you wouldn't want to 
die, would you? I wouldn't. I think there is always some 
thing the matter with a feUow that wants to die. I want to 
stay as long as God will let me stay, but when God's time 
comes for me to go I'm ready, any hour of the day or night. 
God can waken me at midnight or in the morning and I'm 
ready to respond. But if I could live a million years I'd 
like to stay. I don't want to die. I'm having^a good time. 
God made this world for us to have a good time in. It's 
nothing but sin that has damned the world and brought it 
to misery and corruption. God wants you to have a good 
time. Well, then, how can I get this life that you want 
and everybody wants, eternal life? 

If you are ill the most natural thing for you to do is to 
go for your doctor. You say, "I don't want to die. Can 

you help me?" 

He looks at you and says, "I have a hundred patients 
on my hands, all asking the same thing. Not one of them 
wants to die. They ask me to use my skill and bring to 
bear all I have learned, but I can't fight back death. I can 
prescribe for your malady, but. I can't prevent deathe 


11 1, Too t Must Die " 

Well, go to your philosopher. He It Is that reasons 
out the problems and mysteries of life by the application 
of reason. Say to him, "Good philosopher, I have come to 
you for help. I want to live forever and you say that 
you have the touch-stone of philosophy and that you can 
describe and solve. Can you help me?" 

He says to you, "Young man, my hair and my beard 
have grown longer and as white as snow, my eyes are dim, 
my brows are wrinkled, my form bent with the weight 
of years, my bones are brittle and I am just as far from 
the solution of that mystery and problem as when I started. 
I, too, sir, must soon die and sleep beneath the sod." 

In my imagination I have stood by the bedside of 
the dying Pullman-palace-car magnate, George M. Pull 
man, whose will was probated at $25,000,000, and I have 
said, "Oh, Mr. Pullman, you will not die, you can bribe 
death." And I see the pupils of his eyes dilate, his breast 
heaves, he gasps and is no more. The undertaker comes 
and makes an incision in his left arm, pumps in the embalm 
ing fluid, beneath whose mysterious power he turns as rigid 
as ice, and as white as alabaster, and they put his em 
balmed body in the rosewood coffin, trimmed with silver 
and gold, and then they put that in a hermetically 
sealed casket. 

The grave-diggers go to Graceland Cemetery, on the 
shore of Lake Michigan, and dig his grave in the old family 
lot, nine feet wide, and they put in there Portland cement 
four and a half feet thick, while it is yet soft, pliable and 
plastic. A set of workmen drop down into the grave a 
steel cage with steel bars one inch apart. They bring 
his body, in the hermetically sealed casket all wrapped 
about with cloth, and they lower it into the steel cage, 
and a set of workmen put steel bars across the top and 
another put concrete and a solid wall of masonry and they 
bring it up within eighteen inches of the surface; they 
put back the black loamy soil, then they roll back the sod 


with a whisk broom and dust pan they sweep up the 
dirt, and you would never know that there sleeps the 
Pullman-palace-car "magnate, waiting for the trumpet of 
Gabriel to sound; for the powers of God will snap his 
steel, cemented sarcophagus as though it were made of 
a shell and he will stand before God as any other man. 

What does your money amount to? What does your 
wealth amount to? 

I summon the three electrical wizards of the world 
to my bedside and I say, " Gentlemen, I want to live and 
I have sent for you to come," and they say to me, "Mr. 
Sunday, we will flash messages across the sea without 
wires; we can illuminate the homes and streets of your 
city and drive your trolley cars and we can kill men with 
electricity, but we can't prolong life." 

And I summon the great Queen Elizabeth, queen of 
an empire upon which the sun never sets. Three thousand 
dresses hung in her wardrobe. Her jewels were measured 
by the peck. Dukes, kings, earls fought for her smiles. 
I stand by her bedside and I hear her cry "All my posses 
sions for one moment of time!" 

I go to Alexander the Great, who won his first battle 
when he was eighteen, and was King of Macedonia when 
he was twenty. He sat down on the shore of the JCgean 
sea, wrapped the drapery of his couch about him and lay 
down to eternal sleep, the conqueror of all the known 
world, when he was thirty-five years of age. 

I go to Napoleon Bonaparte. Victor Hugo called him 
the archangel of war. He arose in the air of the nine 
teenth century like a meteor. His sun rose at Austerlitz; 
it set at Waterloo. He leaped over the slain of his countrymen 
to be first consul; and then he vaulted to the throne of the 
emperor of France. But it was the cruel wanton achievement 
of insatiate and unsanctified ambition and it led to the barren 
St. Helena isle. As the storm beat upon the rock, once 
more he fought at the head of his troops at Austerlitz, at 
Mt. Tabor, and the Pyramids. Once more he cried, "Fm 


still the head of the army/' and he fell back, and the 
greatest warrior the world has known since the days of 
Joshua, was no more. Tonight on the banks of the Seine 
he lies in his magnificent tomb ? with his marshals sleeping 
where he can summon them, and the battle flags he made 
famous draped around him, and from the four corners of 
the earth students and travelers turn aside to do homage 
to the great military genius. 

I want to show you the absolute and utter futility of 
pinning your hope to a lot of fool things that will damn 
your soul to hell. There is only one way: "As Moses 
lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the 
Son of Man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him 
should not perish, but have eternal life. For God so loved 
the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoso 
ever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever 
lasting life." Search the annals of time and the pages of 
history and where do "you find promises like that? Only 
upon the pages of the Bible do you find them. 

You want to live and so do I. You want eternal 
life and so do I, and I want you to have it. The next 
question I want to ask is, how can you get it? You have 
seen things that won't give it to you. How can you get 
it? All you have tonight or ever will have you will come 
into possession of in one of three ways honestly, dishon 
estly, or as a gift. Honestly: You will work and sweat and 
therefore give an honest equivalent for what you get. Dis 
honestly: You will steal. Third, as a gift, you will inherit 
it. And eternal life must come to you in one of these 
three ways. 

JHo Substitute for Religion 

*^'"**~">~~^ aina _ im _. ---*f,^, ( 

A great many people BeKiveln a Mglf moral standard. 
They deal honestly in business and are charitable, but if 
you think that is going to save you, you are the most mis 
taken man on God's earth, and you will be the biggest dis 
appointed being that ever lived. You can't hire a sub- 


stitute in religion* You can't do some deed of kindness 
or act of philanthropy and substitute that for the necessity 
of repentance and faith in Jesus Christ. Lots of people 
will acknowledge their sin in the world, struggle on with 
out Jesus Christ, and do their best to live honorable, up 
right lives. Your morality will make you a better man 
or woman, but it will never save your soul in the world. 

Supposing you had an apple tree that produced sour 
apples and you wanted to change the nature of it, and 
you would ask the advice of people. One would say 
prune it, and you would buy a pruning hook and cut off 
the superfluous limbs. You gather the apples and they 
are still sour. Another man says to fertilize it, and you 
fertilize it and still it doesn't change the nature of it. 
Another man says spray it to kill the caterpillars, but the 
apples are sour just the same. Another man says intro 
duce a graft of another variety. 

When I was a little boy, one day my grandfather 
said to me: "Willie, come on," and he took a ladder, and 
beeswax, a big jacldmife, a saw and some cloth, and we 
went into the valley. He leaned the ladder against a sour 
crab-apple tree, climbed up and sawed off some of the limbs, 
split them and shoved in them some little pear sprouts 
as big as my finger and twice as long, and around them 
he tied a string and put in some beeswax. I said, " Grandpa, 
what are you doing? " He said, "I'm grafting pear sprouts 
into the sour crab." I said, "What will grow, crab apples 
or pears?" He said, "Pears; I don't know that I'll ever 
live to eat the pear I hope I may but I know you will." 
I lived to see those sprouts which were no longer than my 
finger grow as large as any limb and I climbed the tree 
and picked and ate the pears. He introduced a graft of 
another variety and that changed the nature of the tree. 

And so you can't change yourself with books. That 
which is flesh is flesh, no matter whether it is cultivated 
flesh, or ignorant flesh or common, ordinary flesh. That 
which is flesh is flesh, and all your lodges, all your money 


on God Almighty's earth can never change your nature. 
Never. That's got to come by and through repentance 
and faith in Jesus Christ. That's the only way you will 
ever get it changed. We have more people with fool ways 
trying to get into heaven, and there's only one way to do 
and that is by and through repentance and faith in Jesus 

Here are two men. One man born with hereditary 
tendencies toward bad, a bad father, a bad mother and 
bad grandparents. He has bad blood in his veins and he 
turns as naturally to sin as a duck to water. There he is, 
down and out, a booze fighter and the off-scouring scum 
of the earth. I go to him in his squalor and want and 
unhappiness, and say to him: "God has included all that 
sin that he may have mercy on all All have sinned and 
come short of the glory of God. Will you accept Jesus 
Christ as your Saviour?" 

" Whosoever cometh unto me I will in no wise cast 
out/' and that man says to me, "No, I don't want your 
Christ as my Saviour." 

Here is a man with hereditary tendencies toward good, 
a good father, a good mother, good grandparents, lived in 
a good neighborhood, was taught to go to Sunday school 
and has grown up to be a good, earnest, upright, virtuous, 
responsible business man; his name is synonymous with 
all that is pure and kind, and true. His name is as good 
as a government bond at any bank for a reasonable amount. 
Everybody respects him. He is generous, charitable and 
kind. I go to your high-toned, cultured, respectable man 
and say to him: "God hath included all under sin that 
he might have mercy upon all. All have sinned and 
come short of the glory of God. Whosoever cometh unto 
me I will in no wise cast out. Will you accept Jesus Christ 
as your Saviour? Will you give me your hand? " He says : 
"No, sir; I don't want your Christ." 

What's the difference between those two men? Abso 
lutely none. They are both lost. Both are going to hell. 


God hasn't one way of saving the one and another way of 
saving the other fellow. God will save that man if he 
accepts Christ and he will do the same for the other fellow. 
That man is a sinner and this man is a sinner. That man 
is lower in sin than this man, but they both say, "No" 
to Jesus Christ and they are both lost or God is a liar. 

You don't like it? I don't care a rap whether you 
do or not. You'll take it or go to hell. Stop doing what 
you think will save you and do what God says will save- 

Morality Not Enough 

Morality doesn't save anybody. Your culture doesn't 
save you. I don't care who you are or how good you are, 
if you reject Jesus Christ you are doomed. God hasn't 
one plan of salvation for the millionaire and another for 
the hobo. He has the same plan for everybody. God 
isn't going to ask you whether you like it or not, either. 
He isn't going to ask you your opinion of his plan. There 
it is and well have to take it as God gives it. 

You come across a lot of fools who say there are hypo 
crites in the Church. What difference does that make? 
Are you the first person that has found that out and are 
you fool enough to go to hell because they are going to 
hell? If you are, don't come to me and expect me to 
think you have any sense. Not at all. Not for a minute. 

A good many people attend church because it adds 
a little bit to their respectability. That is proof positive 
to me that the Gospel is a good thing. This is a day 
when good things are counterfeited. - You never saw any 
body counterfeiting brown paper. No, it isn't worth it. 
You have seen them counterfeiting Christians? Yes. You 
have seen counterfeit money? Yes. You never saw a 
counterfeit infidel They counterfeit religion. Certainly. 
A hypocrite is a counterfeit. 

But there is one class of these people that I haven't 
very much respect for. They are so good, so very good, 


that they are absolutely good for nothing. A woman 
came to me and said: "Mr. Sunday, I haven't sinned in, 
ten years." 

I said: "You He, I think" 

Well, a man says: "Look here, there must be some 
thing in morality, because so many people trust in it." 
"Would vice become virtue because more people follow it? 
Simply because more people follow it doesn't make a 
wrong right; not at all. 

The Way of Salvation 

There was an old Spaniard, Ponce de Leon, who 
searched through the glades of Florida. He thought away 
out there in the midst of the tropical vegetation was a 
fountain of perpetual youth, which, if he could only find 
and dip beneath its water would smooth the wrinkles from 
Ms brow and make his gray hair turn like the raven's 
wing. Did he ever find it? No, it never existed. It 
was al imagination. And there are people today search 
ing for something that doesn't exist. Salvation doesn't 
exist in morality, in reformation, in paying your debts. 
It doesn't exist in being true to your marriage vows. It is 
only by repentance and faith in the atoning blood of Jesus 
Christ, and some of you fellows have searched for it until 
you are gray-haired, and you will never find it because 
it only exists in one place repentance and faith in Jesus 

Supposing I had in one hand a number of kernels of 
wheat and a number of diamonds equal in number and 
size to the kernels of wheat. I would say: "Take your 
choice." Nine of ten would take the diamonds. I would 
say: "Diamonds are worth more than wheat." So they 
are now, but you take those diamonds, they will never 
grow, never add. But I can take a handful of wheat, sow 
it, and, fecundated by the rays of the sun and the moisture, 
it will grow and in a few years I have what's worth all the 
diamonds in the world, for wheat contains the power of 


life; wheat can reproduce and diamonds can't; they're not 
life. A diamond is simply a piece of charcoal changed by 
the mysterious process of nature, but it has no life. Wheat 
has life. Wheat can grow. You can take a moral man; 
he may shine and glisten and sparkle like a diamond. He 
may outshine in his beauty the Christian man. But he 
will never be anything else- His morality can never grow. 
It has no life, but the man who is a Christian has life. 
He has eternal life. Your morality is a fine thing until 
death comes, then it's lost and you are lost. Your dia 
mond is a fine thing to carry until it's lost, and of what 
value is it then? Of what value is your morality when 
your soul is lost? 

Supposing I go out in the spring and I see two farmers, 
living across the road from each other. One man plows 
his field and then harrows and puts on the roller, gets it 
all fine and then plants the corn or drills in the oats. 
I come back in the fall and that man has gathered his crop 
into the barn and the granaries and has hay stacked around 
the barn. 

The other fellow is plowing and puts the roller on and 
gets his ground in good shape. I come back in the fall 
and he is still doing the same thing. I say, "What are you 
doing?" He says: "Well, I believe in a high state of culti 
vation." I say: "Look at your neighbor, see what he has." 
"A barn full of grain." "Yes." "More stock." "Yes." 
But he says: "Look at the weeds. You don't see any 
weeds like that on my place. Why, he had to burn the 
weeds before he could find the potatoes to dig them. The 
weeds were as big as the corn." I said: "I'll agree with 
you that he has raised some weeds, but he has raised corn 
as well." What is that ground worth without seed in 
it? No more than your life is worth without having 
Jesus Christ in it. You will starve to death if you 
don't put seed in the ground. Plowing the ground with 
out putting in the seed doesn't amount to a snap of the 



Rewards of Merit 

When I was a little boy out in Iowa, at the end of the 
term of school it was customary for the teachers to give 
us little cards, with a hand in one corner holding a scroll, 
and in that scroll was a place to write the name: "Willie 
Sunday, good boy" Willie Sunday never got hump- 
shouldered lugging them home, I 
can tell you. I never carried off 
the champion long-distance belt for 
verse-quoting, either. If you ever 
saw an American kid, I was one. 

I feel sorry for the little Lord 
Fauntleroy boys with long curly 
hair and white stockings. Yank ? em 
off and let them go barefoot. 

A friend of mine told me he was 
one time being driven along the 
banks of the Hudson and they went 
past a beautiful farm, and there 
sitting on the fence in front of a 
tree, in which was fastened a mirror 
about twelve inches square, sat a 
bird of paradise that was looking 
into the mirror, adjusting his plum 
age and admiring himself, and the 
farmer who had driven my friends 
"I EEEL SOREY FOE THE LIT- out said that every time he passed 
wtaLK^SlSS!" fc birds were doing that. 

&ND WHITE STOCKINGS" I thought, "Well, that re- 

minds me of a whole lot of fools 
I'm fortunate enough to meet everywhere. They sit 
before the mirror of culture, and their mirror of money, 
and their mirror of superior education and attain 
ments; they are married into some old families. What 
does God care about that?" I suppose some of 
you spent a whole lot of money to plant a family 
tree, but I warrant you keep to the back the limbs 


on which some of your ancestors were hanged for stealing 

You are mistaken in God's plan of salvation. Some 
people seem to think God is like a great big bookkeeper 
in heaven and that he has a whole lot of angels as assist 
ants. Every time you do a good thing he writes it down 
on one page and every time you do a bad deed he writes 
it down on the opposite page, and when you die he draws 
a line and adds them up. If you have done more good 
things than bad, you go to heaven; more bad things than 
good, go to hell. You would be dumfounded how many 
people have sense about other things that haven't any sense 
about religion. As though that was God's plan of redemp 
tion. Your admission into heaven depends upon your 
acceptance of Jesus Christ; reject him and God says you 
will be damned. 

Back in the time of Noah, I have no doubt there were 
a lot of good folks. There was Noah. God says: "Look 
here, Noah, I'm going to drown this world with a flood 
and I want you to go to work and make an ark." And 
Noah started to make it according to God's instructions 
and he pounded, and sawed, and drove nails and worked 
for 120 years, and I have often imagined the comments 
of the gang in an automobile going by. They say: "Look 
at the old fool Noah building an ark. Does he ever expect 
God's going to get water enough to flood that?' 7 Along 
comes another crowd and one says: "That Noah bunch 
is getting daffy on religion. I think we'd better take them 
before the commission and pass upon their sanity." Along 
comes another crowd and they say: "Well, there's that 
Noah crowd. I guess we won't invite them to our card 
party after Lent is over." They said: "-Why, they're too 
religious. We'll just let them alone." 

Noah paid no heed to their criticism, but went on 
working until he got through. God gave the crowd a 
chance, but they didn't heed. It started to rain and it 
rained and rained until the rivers and creeks leaped their 


banks and the lowlands were flooded. Then the people 
began to move to the hilltops. The water began to creep 
up the hills. Then I can see the people hurrying off to lum 
ber yards to buy lumber to build little rafts of their own, 
for they began to see that Noah wasn't such a fool after all. 
The hilltops became inundated and it crept to the moun 
tains and the mountains became submerged. Until the 
flood came that crowd was just as well off as Noah, but 
when the flood struck them Noah was saved and they were 
lost, because Noah trusted God and they trusted in them 
selves. You moral men, you may be just as well off as the 
Christian until death knocks you down, then you are lost, 
because you trust in your morality. The Christian is saved 
because he trusts in Jesus. Do you see where you lose 

" Without the shedding of blood there is no remission 
of sin." You must accept the atonement Christ made by 
shedding his blood or God will slam the gate of heaven 
in your face. 

Some people, you know, want to wash their sins and 
they whitewash them, but God wants them white, and 
there's a lot of difference between being "white-washed" 
and "washed white." 

Supposing I was at one of your banks this morning 
and they gave me $25 in gold. Supposing I would put 
fifty of your reputable citizens OB this platform and they 
would all substantiate what I say, and supposing I would 
be authorized by bank to say that they would give every 
man and woman that stands in line in front of the bank 
at 9 o'clock in the morning, $25 in gold. If I could stand 
up there and make that announcement in this city with 
confidence in my word, people would line the streets and 
string away back on the hills, waiting for the bank to 

I can stand here and tell you that God offers you sal 
vation through repentance and faith in Jesus Christ and 
that you must accept it or be lost, and you will stand up 


and argue the question, as though your argument can 
change God's plan. You never can do it. Not only has 
God promised you salvation on the grounds of your accept 
ance of Jesus Christ as your Saviour, but he has promised 
to give you a home in which to spend eternity. Listen! 
"In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not 
so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for 
you." Some people say heaven is a state or condition. 
I don't believe it. It might possibly be better to be in a 
heavenly state than in a heavenly place. It might be 
better to be in hell in a heavenly state than to be in heaven 
in a hellish state. That may be true. Heaven is as much 
a place as the home to which you are going when I dis 
miss the meeting is a place. "I go to prepare a place for 
you." Heaven is a place where there are going to be 
some fine folks. Abraham will be there and I'm going up 
to see him. Noah, Moses, Joseph, Jacob, Isaiah, Daniel, 
Jeremiah the weeping prophet, Paul, John, Peter, James, 
Samuel, Martin Luther, Spurgeon, Calvin, Moody. Oh, 
heaven is a place where there will be grand and noble 
people, and all who believe in Jesus will be there. 

Suppose instead of turning off the gas at bedtime 
I blew it out. Then when Nell and I awoke choking, 
instead of opening the window and turning off the gas 
I got a bottle of cologne and sprinkled ourselves. The 
fool principle of trying to overcome the poison of gas with 
perfumery wouldn't work. The next day there would be 
a coroner's jury in the house. Your principle of trying 
to overcome sin by morality won't work either. 

I'm going to meet David and I'll say: "David, I'm 
not a U. P., but I wish you'd sing the twenty-third psalm 
for me." 

A Place of Noble People 

The booze fighter won't be in heaven; he is here. The 
skeptic won't be there; he is here. ^ There'll be nobody 
to run booze joints or gambling hells in heaven. Heaven 


will be a place of grand and noble people, who love Jesus. 
The beloved wife will meet her husband. Mother, you 
will meet your babe again that you have been separated 
from for months or years. Heaven will be free from 
everything that curses and damns this old world here. 
Wouldn't this be a grand old world if it weren't for a lot 
of things in it? Can you conceive anything being grander 
than this world if it hadn't a lot of things in it? The only 
thing that makes it a decent place to live in is the religion 
of Jesus Christ. There isn't a man that would live in it 
if you took religion out. Your mills would rot on their 
foundations if there were no Christian people of influence 

There will be no sickness in heaven, no pain, no sin, no 
poverty, no want, no death, no grinding toil. "There remain- 
eth therefore'a rest to the people of God." I tell you there 
are a good many poor men and women that never have any 
rest. They have had to get up early in the morning and 
work all day, but in heaven there remaineth a rest for the 
people of God. Weary women that start out early to their 
daily toil, you won't have to get out and toil all day. No 
toil in heaven, no sickness, "God shall wipe away all 
tears from their eyes." You will not be standing watch 
ing with a heart filled with expectation, and doubt, and 
hope. No watching the undertaker screw the coffin lid 
over your loved one, or watching the pall-bearers carrying 
out the coffin and hearing the preacher say, "Ashes to 
ashes, dust to dust." None of that in heaven. Heaven 
that is a place He has gone to prepare for those who will 
do his will and keep his commandments and turn from 
their sin. Isn't it great? 

Everything will be perfect in heaven. Down here we 
only know in part, but there we will know as we are known. 
It is a city that hath foundation. Here we have no con 
tinuing state. Look at your beautiful homes. You admire 
them. The next time you go up your avenues and streets 
look at the homes. But they are going to rot on their 


foundations. Every one of them. Where are you tonight, 
old Eternal City of Rome on your seven hills? Where 
are you? Only a memory of your glory. Where have 
they all gone? The homes will crumble. 

"Enoch walked with God and was not, for God took 
Mm." That is a complete biography of Enoch. 

Elijah was carried to heaven in a chariot of fire and 
Elisha took up the mantle of the prophet Elijah and smote 
the Jordan and went back to the seminary where Elijah 
had taught and told the people there. They would not 
believe him, and they looked for Elijah, but they found him. 
not. Centuries later it was the privilege of Peter, James 
and John in the company of Jesus Christ, on the Mount 
of Transfiguration, to look into the face of that same Elijah 
who centuries before had walked the hilltops and slain 
four hundred and fifty of the prophets of Baal. 

. "A Place for You" 

Stephen, as they stoned him, to death, with his face 
lighted up saw Jesus standing on the right of God the 
Father, the place which he had designated before his 
crucifixion would be his abiding place until the fulfillment 
of the time of the Gentiles in the world. Among the last 
declarations of Jesus is, "In my Father's house are many 
mansions." What a comfort to the bereaved and afflicted. 
Not only had God provided salvation through faith in Jesus 
Christ as a gift from God's outstretched hand, but he 
provided a home in which you can spend eternity. He 
has provided a home for you. Surely, surely, friends, 
from the beginning of the history of man, from the time 
Enoch walked with God and was not, until John on the 
island of Patmos saw the new Jerusalem let down by God 
out of heaven, we have ample proof that heaven is a place. 
Although we cannot see it with the natural eyes, it is a 
place, the dwelling place of God and of the angels and of 
the redeemed through faith in the Son of God. 

He says, "I go to prepare a place for you." 


People sometimes ask me, "Who do you think will 

die first, Mr. Sunday, you or your wife, or your children 

or your mother?" I don't know. I think I will. I never 

expect to be an old man, I work too hard. I burn up 

more energy preaching in an hour than any other man 

will burn up in ten or twelve hours, I never expect to 

live to be an old man. I don't expect to, but I know this 

much, if my wife or my babies should go first this old 

world would be a dark place for me and I would be glad 

when God summoned me to leave it; and if I left first I 

know they would be glad when God called them home. 

If I go first, I know after I go up and take Jesus by the 

hand and say, " Jesus, thank you. I'm glad you honored 

me with the privilege of preaching your Gospel; I wish 

I could have done it better, but I did my best, and now, 

Jesus, if you don't care, I'd like to hang around the gate 

and be the first to welcome my wife and the babies when 

they come. Do you care, Jesus, if I sit there?" And he 

will say, "No, you can sit right there, Bill, if you want 

to; it's all right." I'll say, " Thank you, Lord." 

If they would go first, I think after they would go 
up and thank Jesus that they are home, they would say, 
"Jesus, I wish you would hurry up and bring papa home. 
He doesn't want to stay down there because we are up 
here." They would go around and put their grips away 
in their room, wherever it is, and then they would say, 
"Can we sit here, Jesus?" "Yes, that's all right." 

I don't know where I'll live when I get to heaven. 
I don't know whether I'll live on a main street or an avenue 
or a boulevard. I don't know where I'll live when I get 
to heaven. I don't know whether it will be in the back 
alley or where, but I'll just be glad to get there. I'll be 
thankful for the mansion wherever God provides it. I 
never like to think about heaven as a great, big tenement 
house, where they put hundreds of people under one roof, 
as we do in Chicago or other big cities. "In my Father's 
house are many mansions." And so it will be up in 


heaven, and 111 be glad, awfully glad, and I teli you I 
think if my wife and children go first, the children might 
be off some place playing, but wife would be right there, 
and I would meet her and say, "Why, wife, where are the 
children? 77 She would say, "Why, they are playing on 
the banks of the river." (We are told about the river 
that flows from the throne of God.) We would walk down 
and I would say, "Hello, Helen! Hey, George, Hey, 
Willsky; bring the baby; come on/ 7 And they would 
come tearing as they do now. 

I would say, "Now, children, run away and play a 
little while. I haven 7 t seen mother for a long time and we 
have lots of things to talk about, 77 and I think we would 
walk away and sit down under a tree and I would put 
my head in her lap as I do now when my head is tired, 
and I would say, "Wife, a whole lot of folks down there 
in our neighborhood in Chicago have died; have they come 
to heaven? 77 

The Missing 

"Well, I don't know. Who has died? 7 ' 

"Mr. S. Is he here?' 7 

"I haven 7 t seen him." 

"No? His will probated five million. Bradstreet 
and Dun rated him AaG. Isn 7 t he here? 77 

"I haven 7 t seen him. 7 ' 

"Is Mr. J. here? 77 

"I haven 7 t seen him." 

" Haven 7 t seen him, wife? That 7 s funny. He left years 
before I did. Is Mrs. N here? 77 

"No. 77 

" You know they lived on River street. Her husband 
paid $8,000 for a lot and $60,000 for a house. He paid 
$2,000 for a bathroom. Mosaic floor and the finest of 
fixtures. You know, wife, she always came to church late 
and would drive up in her carriage, and she would sweep 
down the aisle and you would think all the perfume of 


Arabia had floated in, and she had diamonds in her ears 
as big as pebbles. Is she here?" 

"I haven't seen her." 

"Well! Well! Well! Is Aunty Griffith here?" 

"Yes; aunty lives next to us." - 

"I knew she would be here, God bless her heart! 
She had two big lazy, drunken louts of boys that didn't 
care for her, and the church supported her for sixteen years 
to my knowledge and they put her in the home for old 
people. Hello, yonder she comes. How are you, Aunty?" 

She will say, "How are you, William?" 

"I'm first rate." 

"Mon, ye look natural just the same,' 1 


"And when did ye leave Chicago, Wally?' 1 

"Last night, Aunty." 

"I'm awfully glad to see you, and, Wally, I live right 
next door to you, mon." 

"Good, Aunty, I knew God would let you in. My, 
where's mother, wife?" 

"She's here." 

"I know she's here; I wish she would come. Helen, 
is that mother coining down the hill?" 


I would say, "Have you seen Fred, or Rody, or 
Peacock, or Ackley, or any of them?" 

"Yes. They live right around near us." 

"George, you run down and tell Fred I've come, will 
you? Hunt up Rody, and Peacock and Ackley and 
Fred, and see if you can find Frances around there and 
tell them I've just come in." And they would come and 
I would say, "How are you? Glad to see you. Feeling 

And, oh, what a time we'll have in heaven. In heaven 
they never mar the hillsides with spades, for they dig no 
graves. In heaven they never telephone for the doctor, for 
nobody gets sick. In heaven no one carries handkerchiefs, 


for nobody cries. In heaven they never telephone for the 
undertaker, for nobody dies. In heaven yon will never 
see a funeral procession going down the street, nor crpe 
hanging from the doorknob. In heaven, none of the things 
that enter your home here will enter there. Sickness won't 
get in; death won't get in, nor sorrow, because " Former 
things are passed away," all things have become new. 
In heaven the flowers never fade, the winter winds and 
blasts never blow. The rivers never congeal, never freeze, 
for it never gets cold. No, sir. 

Say, don't let God be compelled to hang a "For Rent" 
sign in the window of the mansion he has prepared for 
you. I would walk around with him and I'd say, "Whose 
mansion is that, Jesus?" 

"Why, I had that for one of the rich men, but he 
passed it up." 

"Who's that one for?" 

"That was for a doctor, but he did not take it." 

"That was for one of the school teachers, but she 
didn't come." 

"Who is that one for, Jesus?" 

"That was for a society man, but he didn't want it." 

"Who is that one for?" 

"That was for a booze fighter, but he wouldn't pass 
up the business." 

Don't let God hang a "For Rent" sign in the man 
sion that he has prepared for you. Just send up word 
and say, "Jesus, I've changed my mind; just put my name 
down for that, will you? I'm coming. I'm coming." 
"In my Father's house are many mansions; if it were not 
so I would have told you; I go to prepare a place for you." 

Glorying in the Cross 

It's Jesus Christ or nothing. BILLY SUKDAY, 

PAULINE in more than one characteristic is Billy 
Sunday. But in none so much as in his devotion to 
the cross of Jesus Christ. His life motto may well 
be Paul's, "I am resolved to know nothing among you, save 
Jesus Christ and him crucified." His preaching is entirely 
founded on the message that "thjejblood _jof Jsus,.CJirist 
cjleanseth us from all sin," There are no modern theories of 
the atonement in Ms utterances. To the learned of the 
world, as to the Greeks of old, the Cross may seem foolish 
ness, but Sunday knows and preaches it as the power of 
God unto salvation. As his closing and most characteristic 
message to the readers of this book we commend Ms sermon 
on " Christ and Mm crucified." 


"For if the blood of bulls and of goats and the ashes of 
an heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying 
of the flesh" Paul argued in Ms letter to the Hebrews 
"how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through 
the eternal Spirit offered Mmself without spot to God, 
purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living 

No more of this turtle-dove business, no more offering 
the blood of bullocks and heifers to cleanse from sin. 

The atoning blood of Jesus Christ that is the tMng 
about wMch all else centers. I believe that more logical, 
illogical, idiotic, religious and irreligious arguments have 
been fought over this than all others. Now and then when 
a man gets a new idea of it he goes out and starts a new 
denomination. He has a perfect right to do this under 



the thirteenth amendment, but he doesn't stop here. He 
makes war on all of the other denominations that do not 
interpret as he does. Our denominations have multiplied 
by this method until it would give one brain fever to try to 
count them all. 

The atoning blood! And as I think it over I am 
reminded of a man who goes to England and advertises 
that he will throw pictures on the screen of the Atlantic 
coast of America. So he gets a crowd and throws pictures 
on the screen of high bluffs and rocky coasts and waves 
dashing against them until a man comes out of the audience 
and brands him a liar and says that he is obtaining money 
under false pretense, as he has seen America and the 
Atlantic coast and what the other man is showing is not 
America at all. The men almost come to blows and then 
the other man says that if the people will come tomorrow 
he will show them real pictures of the coast. So the 
audience comes back to see what he will show, and he 
flashes on the screen pictures of a low coast line, with 
palmetto trees and banana trees and tropical foliage and he 
apologizes to the audience, but says these are the pictures 
of America. The first man calls him a liar and the people 
don't know which to believe. What was the matter with 

They were both right and they were both wrong, 
paradoxical as it may seem. They were both right as far 
as they went, but neither went far enough. The first showed 
the coast line from New England to Cape Hatteras, 
while the second showed the coast line from Hatteras to 
Yucatan. They neither could show it all in one panoramic 
view, for it is so varied it could not be taken in one picture. 
God never intended to give you a picture of the world in 
one panoramic view. From the time of Adam and Eve 
down to the time Jesus Christ hung on the cross he was 
unfolding his views. When I see Moses leading the people 
out of bondage where they for years had bared their backs 
to the taskmaster's lash; when I see the lowing herds and 


the high priest standing before the altar severing the jugular 
vein of the rams and the bullocks on until Christ cried out 
from the cross, "It is finished/' God was preparing the pic 
ture for the consummation of it in the atoning blood of Jesus 

A sinner has no standing with God, He forfeits his 
standing when he commits sin and the only way he can 
get back is to repent and accept the atoning- blood of Jesus 

I have sometimes thought that Adam and Eve didn't 
understand as fully as we do when the Lord said, "Eat and 
you shall surely die." They had never seen any one die. 
They might have thought it simply meant a separation from 
God. But no sooner had they eaten and seen their naked 
ness than they sought to cover themselves, and it is the same 
today. When man sees himself in his sins, uncovered, he 
tries to cover himself in philosophy or some fake. But God 
looked through the fig leaves and the foliage and God walked 
out in the field and slew the beasts and took their skins and 
wrapped them around Adam and Eve, and from that day to 
this when a man has been a sinner and has covered himself 
it has been by and through faith in the shed blood of Jesus 
Christ. Every Jew covered his sins and received pardon 
through the blood of the rams and bullocks and the doves. 

An old infidel said to me once, "But I don't believe in 
atonement by blood. It doesn't come up to my ideas of 
what is right." 

I said, "To perdition with your ideas of what is right. 
Do you think God is coming down here to consult you with 
your great intellect and wonderful brain, and find out what 
you think is right before he does it? " My, but you make me 
sick. You think that because you don't believe it that it 
isn't true. 

I have read a great deal not everything, mind you, for 
a man would go crazy if he tried to read everything but I 
have read a great deal that has been written against the 
atonement from the infidel standpoint Voltaire, Huxley, 


Spencer, Diderot, Bradlaugh, Paine, on down to Bob Inger- 
soil and I have never found an argument that would stand 
the test of common sense and common reasoning. And if 

anyone tells me he has tossed on the scrap heap the plan of 
atonement by blood I say, "What have you to offer that 

is better? " and until he can show me something that is 
better I'll nail my hopes to the cross. 

SuSering for the Guilty 

You say you don't believe in the innocent suffering for 
the guilty. Then I say to you, you haven't seen life as I 
have seen it up and down the country. The innocent suffer 
with the guilty, by the guilty and for the guilty. Look 
at that old mother waiting with trembling heart for 
the son she has brought into the world. And see him 
come staggering in and reeling and staggering to bed 
while his mother prays and weeps and soaks the pillow 
with her tears over her godless boy. Who suffers most? 
The mother or that godless, maudlin bum? You have only 
to be the mother of a boy like that to know who suffers most. 
Then you won't say anything about the plan of redemption 
and of Jesus Christ suffering for the guilty. 

Look at that young wife, waiting for the man whose 
name she bears, and whose face is woven in the fiber of her 
heart, the man she loves. She waits for him in fright and 
when he comes, reeking from the stench of the breaking of 
his marriage vows, from the arms of infamy, who suffers 
most? That poor, dirty, triple extract of vice and sin? You 
have only to be the wife of a husband like that to know 
whether the innocent suffers for the guilty or not. I have 
the sympathy of those who know right now. 

This happened in Chicago in a police court. A letter 
was introduced as evidence for a criminal there for vagrancy. 
It read, "I hope you won't have to hunt long to find work. 
Tom is sick and baby is sick. Lucy has no shoes and we have 
no money for the doctor or to buy any clothes. I manage 
to make a little taking in washing, but we are living in one 


room in a basement. I hope you won't have to look long for 
work," and so on, just the kind of a letter a wife would write 
to her husband. And before it was finished men cried and 
policemen with hearts of adamant were crying and fled from 
the room. The judge wiped the tears from his eyes and 
said: "You see, no man lives to himself alone. If he sins 
others suffer. I have no alternative. I sympathize with 
them, as does every one of you, but I have no alternative. 
I must send this man to Bridewell." Who suffers most, that 
woman manicuring her nails over a washboard to keep the 
little brood together or that drunken bum in Bridewell 
getting his just deserts from his acts? You have only to be 
the wife of a man like that to know whether or not the 
innocent suffer with the guilty. 

So when you don't like the plan of redemption because 
the innocent suffer with the guilty, I say you don't know what 
is going on. Iff the plan of life everywhere. 

From the fall of Adam and Eve till now it has always 
been the rule that the innocent suffer with the guilty. It's 
the plan of all and unless you are an idiot, an imbecile and 
a jackass, and gross flatterer at that, you'll see it. 

Jesus' Atoning Blood 

Jesus gave Jiisjif e on the cross for any who^will believe. 
We're nol^redeemed By"" si3:vSr~6r '^ Ha 

with his blood. When some one tells you that your re 
ligion is a bloody religion and the Bible is a bloody book, 
tell them yes, Christianity is a bloody religion, the gospel is 
a bloody gospel, the Bible is a bloody book, the plan of 
redemption is bloody. It is. You take the blood of Jesus 
Christ out of Christianity and that book isn't worth the 
paper it is written on. It would be worth no more than your 
body with the blood taken out. Take the blood of Jesus 
Christ out and it would be a meaningless jargon and jumble 
of words. 

If it weren't for the atoning blood you might as well 
rip the roofs off the churches and burn them down. They 



aren't worth anything. But as long as the blood is on the 
mercy seat the sinner can return, and by no other way. 
There is nothing else. It stands for the redemption. You 
are not redeemed by silver or gold, but by the blood of Jesus 
Christ. Though a man says to read good books, do good 
deeds, live a good life and you'll be saved, you'll be damned. 
That's what you will. All the books in the world won't 
keep you out of hell without the atoning blood of Jesus 
Christ. It's Jesus Christ 
or nothing for every sinner 
on God's earth. 

Without it not a sinner 
will ever be saved. Jesus 
has.pajd for j^ur^ins^SEt 
his bfoocfT" The "doctrine of 
universal salvation is a lie. 
I wish every one would be 
saved, but they won't. You 
will never be saved if you 
reject the blood. 

I remember when I was 
in the Y. M. C. A. in Chi 
cago I was going down 
Madison Street and had 
just crossed Dearborn 

Street when I saw a newsboy with a young sparrow in his 
hand. I said: "Let that little bird go." 

He. said, "Aw, g'wan with you, you big mutt." 

I said, "I'll give you a penny for it," and he answered, 
"Not on your tintype." 

"I'll give you a nickel for it," and he answered, "Boss, 
I'm from Missouri; come across with the dough." 

I offered it to him, but he said, "Give it to that guy 
there," and I gave it to the boy he indicated and took the 

I held it for a moment and then it fluttered and strug 
gled and finally reached the window ledge in a second story 



across the street. And other birds fluttered around over my 
head and seemed to say in bird language, " Thank you, Bill." 

The kid looked at me in wonder and said: "Say, boss, 
why didn't you chuck that nickel in the sewer ?" 

I told him that he was just like that bird. He was in 
the grip of the devil, and the devil was too strong for him 
just as he was too strong for the sparrow, and just as I could 
do with the sparrow what I wanted to after I had paid for it 
because it was mine. God paid a price for him far greater 
than I had for the sparrow, for he had paid it with the blood 
of his Son and he wanted to set Mm free, 

Eo Argument Against Sin 

So, my friend, if I had paid for some property from you 
with a price, I could command you, and if you wouldn't 
give it to me I could go into court and make you yield. Why 
do you want to be a sinner and refuse to yield? You are 
withholding from God what he paid for on the cross. When 
you refuse you are not giving God a square deal. 

I'll tell you another- It stands for God's hatred of sin, 
Sin is something you can't deny. You can't argue against 
sin. A skilful man can frame an argument against the 
validity of religion, but he can't frame an argument against 
sin. I'll tell you something that may surprise you. If I 
hadn't had four years of instruction in the Bible from Gene 
sis to Revelation, before I saw Bob Ingersoll's book, and I 
don't want to take any credit from that big intelligent brain 
of his, I would be preaching infidelity instead of Christian 
ity. Thank the Lord I saw 'the Bible first. I have taken 
his lectures and placed them by the side of the Bible, and 
said, "You didn't say it from your knowledge of the Bible." 
And I have never considered him honest, for he could not 
have been so wise in other things and such a fool about 
the plan of redemption. So I say I don't think lie was en 
tirely honest. 

But you can't argue against the existence of sin, simply 
because it is an open fact, the word of God, You can 


argue against Jesus being the Son of God. You can argue 
about there being a heaven and a hell, but you can't argue 
against sin. It is in the world and men and women are 
blighted and mildewed by it. 

Some years ago I turned a corner in Chicago and stood 
in front of a police station. As I stood there a patrol dashed 
up and three women were taken from some drunken debauch, 
and they were dirty and blear-eyed, and as they were taken 
out they started a flood of profanity that seemed to turn the 
very air blue. I said, " There is sin." And as I stood there 
up dashed another patrol and out of it they took four men, 
drunken and ragged and bloated, and I said, "There is sin." 
You can't argue against the fact of sin. It is in the world 
and blights men and women. But Jesus came to the world 
to save all who accept him. 

"How Long, O God?" 

It was out in the Y. M. C. A. in Chicago. "What is 
your name and what do you want? " I asked. 

"I'm from Cork, Ireland," said he, "and my name is 
James O'Toole." Here is a letter of introduction." I read 
it and it said he was a good Christian young man and an 
energetic young fellow. 

I said, "Well, Jim, my name is Mr. Sunday. I'll tell 
you where there are some good Christian boarding houses 
and you let me know which one you pick out." He told me 
afterwards that he had one on the North Side. I sent him 
an invitation to a meeting to be held at the Y. M. C. A., and 
he had it when he and some companions went bathing in 
Lake Michigan, He dived from the pier just as the water 
receded unexpectedly and he struck the bottom and broke 
Ms neck. He was taken to the morgue and the police found 
my letter in his clothes, and told me to come and claim it or 
it would be sent to a medical college. I went and they had 
the body on a slab, but I told them I would send a cablegram 
to his folks and asked them to hold it. They put it in a glass 
case and turned on the cold air, by which they freeze bodies 


by chemical processes, as they freeze ice, and said they would 
save it for .two months, and if I wanted it longer they would 
stretch the rules a little and keep it three. 

I was just thinking of what sorrow that cablegram 
would cause his old mother in Cork when they brought in the 
body of a woman. She would have been a fit model of 
Phidias, she had such symmetry of form. Her fingers were 
manicured. She was dressed in the height of fashion and her 
hands were covered with jewels and as I looked at her, the 
water trickling down her face, I saw the mute evidence of 
illicit affection. I did not say lust, I did not say passion, I 
did not say brute instincts. I said, "Sin." Sin had caused 
her to throw herself from that bridge and seek repose in a 
suicide's grave. And as I looked, from the saloon, the fan- 
tan rooms, the gambling hells, the opium dens, the red 
lights, there arose one endless cry of "How long, O God, 
how long shall hell prevail? " 

You can't argue against sin. It's here* Then listen 
to me as I try to help you. 

When the Standard Oil Company was trying to refine 
petroleum there was a substance that they couldn't dispose 
of. It was a dark, black, sticky substance and they 
couldn't bury it, couldn't burn it because it made such a 
stench; they couldn't run it in the river because it killed the 
fish, so they offered a big reward to any chemist who would 
solve the problem. Chemists took it and worked long over 
the problem, and one day there walked into the office of 
John D. Rockefeller, a chemist and laid down a pure white 
substance which we since know as paraffine. 

You can be as black as that substance and yet Jesus 
Christ can make you white as snow. "Though your sins be 
as scarlet they shall be as white as snow." 

i 3