THE GARLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3205, 18 August 1915, Page 77

THE GARLAND.

FOR THE QUIET HOUR. No. 105. By Duncan Wright, Dunedin. “ WANTED, A MAN.” Man is of kin to the beasts by his body ; and if he be not kin to God by his spirit he is a base and ignoble creature. — Bacon. Yon brawny fool Who swaggers, swears an’ a’ that, And thinks because his strong right arm Might fell an ox an’ a’ that, That he’s as noble, man for man. As duke or lord an’ a’ that, Is but an animal at best. And not a man for a’ that. Charles Mackay. Man is a moral, accountable being. Lowell. Know then thyself, presume not God to scan ; The proper study of mankind is man. Pope. Man, proud man, Dressed in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he’s most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks beiore high heaven As make the angels weep* Shakespeare. Life is not an idle ore. But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears And dipt in bath of hissing tears, And battered with the shocks of doom To shape and use. ( “ THE WISEST MAN IN THE ARMY” was the name given to Atkinson by bis comrades of the Lancashire Fusiliers in the grand old city of Cork. Again and again he had been locked up for drunkenness. In the eyes of officers and comrades Atkinson was incorrigible and beyond all hope. On the invitation of a Christian woman he was invited to a meeting in the Soldiers’ Home. In the course of a short address by an army Scripture reader the phrase “Christ for me” was used. Quietly and wisely he was asked : “What do you think of it, Atkinson?” Just as quietly and promptly he replied: “I’ve thought and made my choice: ‘Christ for me.’ Then followed the story of his life of sin and shame when a slave to drink and the devil. “But it’s different now,” he added; “Christ for me.” As usual, “the worst man in the army” had to stand bitter taunts from his companions in the barrack room. When the war broke out in South Africa Atkinson went with his column, and he "was now the most reliable man of the lot. With other steady men he was sent to storm a certain kopje. Before doing so he said; “Boys, let’s pray before the fight.” Immediately every helmet was doffed, and a great silence fell on all. Then, strong and clear,, the voice of “the worst man in the army” was heard praying humbly, concisely, and confidently, nutting himself and bis coir.««m v into the keeping of Almighty God. He bore his testimony. Like many other heroic souls, he sleeps on the sandy veldt of South Africa. A BANKER POET. “Wanted, a man" was written in the darkest hour of the American Civil War, when the country’s hones had been crushed by General M'Clelland’s failure, and there seemed to be no one to take command. Give us a man of God’s own mould. Born to marshal his fellow men; One whose fame is not bought and sold At the stroke of a politician’s pen. Give us the man of thousands ten Fit to do as '-well ns to plan; Give us a rallying cry, and then, Abraham Lincoln, give us a man. Oh, we will follow him to the death. Where the foeman’s fiercest columns are; Oh, we will tise our latest breath, Cheering for every sacred star. His to marshal us high and far; Ours to battle as patriots can When a Hero leads the Holy War— Abraham Lincoln, give us a man. When Lincoln read the lines to his Cabinet the tears ran down his cheeks. But as soon as they put Unconditional Surrender Grant in command the enemy was outmatched, and victory came into sight at once, and the end of the war only a question of time. (Most sensible people believe in both prayer and action, as put by the well-known poet of America: O power to do! O baffled will! O prayer and action, ye are one. Who may not strive may yet fulfil The harder task of standing still And good but wished with God is done. ’TWAS IN TRAFALGAR’S BAY 7 . In these terrible days of 1915, when men, women, and children are talking about war, horrid war—yes, barbarous, unparalleled war—so dreadful, indeed, that your vocabulary has no words adequate to describe it—we look back to the days of valour and high-sonled chivalry of Horatio Nelson and the battle of tbs the Baltic, the battle of the Nile, at St. Vincent, and at Trafalgar on 21st October, 1805—because these memorable epochmaking historic events stir our blood; aye, and make us sing: “Hurrah! for the flag of old England.” “If we succeed, what will the world say?” asked one of the captains, as at Aboukir he declared his intention of attacking the long line of French battleships. Said Nelson, “There is no ‘if’ in the case” ; that we shall suceed is certain. Who will live to tell the tale is another question.” Wherever Ibe track of our English ships Lies white on the ocean foam. His name is sweet to our English lips As the name of the flowers at home. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. In a small, but most delightful and in-

spiring, book called “The Psalms in Human Life/’ by Howland E. Prothero, author, and agent-in-chief to the Duke of Bedford, we read the following: “ In 1787 it was to Psalm cxxvii, 1, that Franklin appealed when speaking before the Convention assembled to frame a Constitution for the United States .of America :—- “In the beginning of the contest with Britain, when ws were sensible of danger, we had daily prayers in this room for the Divine protection. Our prayers, Sir, were heard, and they were graciously answered. All of ns who were engaged in the struggle must have observed frequent instances of a superintending Providence. To that kind of Providence we owe this opportunity of consulting in peace on the means of establishing our future national felicity. And have we now forgotten this powerful Friend ? or do we imagine that we no longer need his assistance? I have lived for a long time (81 years), and the longer I live the more convincing proof I see of this truth, that God governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His. notice, is it probable that an Empire can rise without His aid? [Good old Puritan !] “Wo have been assured, Sir, in the sacred writings that, 'Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain who build it.’ I firmly believe this, and I also believe that without His concurring aid we shall proceed in this political building no better than the builders of Babel. I therefore beg leave to move that henceforth prayers imploring the assistance of Heaven and its blessing on our deliberations be held in this assembly every morning before we proceed to business, and that one or more of the clergy of this city be requested to officiate in that service.” After reading these strong, wise words of a manly man in 1787, then read in your daily paper concerning a mass meeting for prayer in St. Paul’s, London, on August 4, 1915: “Crowds gathered at *St. Paul’s at 8 a.m. The thoroughfares were barricaded by police, assisted by hundreds of special constables. Six thousand persons were admitted to the nave of St. Paul’s. The Royal party were seated under the dome. “Thousands remained in the streets during the service, despise showers of rain, and -joined in the National Anthem, which concluded the service.” O God of Love, O King of Peace, Make wars throughout the world to cease; The wrath of sinful man restrain; Give peace, O God, give peace again. Whom shall we trust but Thee, O Lord? Whore rest but on Thy faithful word? None ever called on Thee in vain; Give peace, O God, give peace again; The writer of this message deliberately ventures the opinion that all over Australasia sport is still, in these dark days, far too prominent among all classes, and work, honest, solid work, is the exception and not the rule. It, in the sphere of morals, men of brain, men of influence, men and women of intellect and force, men of God, praying men, young fellows of muscle and bone, and women of all ages in all the walks of life—if all such were in Christ’s name to face the cruel, selfish, sinful problems which puzzle and perplex good men, philosophers, and philanthropists, and in a frank, kindly, and enthusiastic manner give a helping hand, oh. what a joy! To whom? To the people, but chiefly to the workers. Did Nero, of hateful memory, fiddle whilst Rome was in flames? Well may we blush for shame ! FACTORY BOY—HERO. Who doesn’t know and revere the name and memory of David Livingstone? When the cry was uttered: “Wanted, a man” to go into the unknown corners of Central Africa, who responded? David Livingstone? “I shall open up a path,” he said, “through the Dark Continent or perish.” And perish he did, and well do I remember the clay when I stood in Westminster Abbey, where his dust rests, and read the tablet to his memory. . Single-handed this illustrious Scot, in the names of God and suffering, crushed humanity, grappled with and smote with giant stroke the African slave trade and gave a dark and despairing continent to commerce and to Christianity. What might be done if men were wise! What glorious deeds, my suffering brother, Would they unite In love and right, And coase their scorn of one another. All slavery, warfare, lies, and wrongs. All vice and crime might die together, , And fruit and corn To each man born Be free as warmth in summer weather. What might be done? This might be dons, And more than this, my suffering brother; More than the tongue E’er said or sung. If men were wise and. loved each other.