REV. FLANAGAN'S MISSION.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 13664, 1 April 1908, Page 17

REV. FLANAGAN'S MISSION.

TUESDAY'S MEETING.

The Rev. J. Flanagan continued his special mission last night in the Theatre Royal.

After devotional exercises, the missioner said he wanted tot speak especially to those who Were not Christians and appeal to them , to give - God 'a fair chance in their lives, for* the truth of God could only make itself felt on the mind and heart when they put away from them the spirit of unbelief. "And mind you," he said, "that is a comprehensive term — unbelief. Lack of sympathy is unbelief, pride is unbelief — all various symptoms of the same disease of the. heart.: Come then, brother, sister, £or a few minutes and listen to me while I speak to you of the truth as^ contained in these words, verse 18 6f the' third chapter of H the Epistle to the Hebrews: — 'Hardened by the deceitfulness of Sin.' " In the way he read tho text, said the preacher, he/Hvotild have -them see" the cardinal fttatfcs which? it touched, for tone in a man's voice might make or mar his mossage. .One person would say a thing and one would see no meaning in it; and another person would say the very same thing and behold- the word/-, were transfigured. Had they nover watched tne* musician sit at an instrument and play a piece of music, fend all they heara were certain sounds ? Had they never seen another musician sit" before the same instrument and play the same piece of music and they had got tones and they had got feelings which the other musician could never give or never stir? It was not a matter of interpretation but emphasis — ar matter of utterance. Had they never heard a preacher read a text and 'all the words meant to them were simply a commonplace thing? Had they never heard another man read some text and worlds of beauty and blessings had unfolded themselves \ta the, mind and heaVtun the/ very- way in; which. he had read 'tiie old truth? Since he had been in New Zealand he had met with some peculiar experiences. He might mention at least one that was in his min<L^ One day in a certain New Zealand" city a gentleman came up to him and said: "Mr FJafiagan, did. you ever, in the Old Country meet with a man named Robinson Watson?" He said, "What?" The query was repeated. He said "Yes!" Thirty years ago Robinson Watson had been what Gipsy Smith was at the present time — God's mightiest evangelist in England, wiii- ! ning not hundreds but thousands- to i Jesus. The great power of Robinson "Watson's preaching, so far as the human part of it was concerned, was tue way he divided his text, by cmi phasis, so that the way he read it gave him the., whole body of his address before he had really said a word. He might say in passing that the only brother of that good nian was William .Watsoti^ne l oi-the greatest of tfie Empire's lirlng poets, the man who shook the Sultan at the time of the Armenian massacres. There were three emphatic words in the text he had read to them, and he wanted his listeners to see the truth as well as the emphasis. The truth they could discover . for themselves was infinitely more precious to them than the truth that might be discovered for them by the preacher. That nian was the winner of souls who oould jftit the truth in a more attractive ffi-ess ; for a thought might change the ojestiny and a sentence might revolutionise the Empire: They were richer ife-day — more Jtfaan they dreamed — becattse" of me^T* fn *' the past who had enunciated .principles out of this Book into easier every day language. The three words were "hardened, deceitfulness, sin." Sin hardened. Sinners prided themselves on. the fact that such meetings as thos"e amused them more than interested them, that any preaching had lost its power — particularly that side of, it that dealt with the shadows, perils/ and consequences of wrong doing. Did they think that that was a sign of manhood? Did they think, because they could sit and hear the preacher preach truths without being moved that that was a sign they •had got out of babyhood, and reached mental manhood? If they knew things as they were, it would prove to them that their souls were becoming hardened, and if they played the game they were doing they would become petrified instead. The Spirit of God would play upon' their consciences' so that they would feel no compunction; mortification would set in — moral mortification. Yes, there was such a thing as mortification of the soul. In illustration of his point the preacher told of a hangeron at the public-house door in a certain • New Zealand town — a man with greasy trousers, dirty dress, unwashed skin, altogether a pitiable object to behold— and that man was a Master of Arts, a man who had honestly won his degree now glad of anybody that would givehim a drink. As he preached there came back to him the memory of that man's former days when fresh and blooming and handsome and strong he walked erect, having won high honours. Ho stepped through university halls. Now there came the dream back ateain. "Look at his slobbering lip!" said the preacher. "Look at the tears! Look at his wretched appearance! Hear what he says : 'God help me, Flanagan, God help me; I wish I was as I once was; but I can't give it vp — I haven't the power to.' " Now, he continued, what he .(the missioner) <had said to that' matt he had said to him privately. What he said to them was, "Don't play with this thing called sm, because it hardens, it deceives;" Let them look for a moment at Oscar Wilde, the dile ltante whose every action was a classic pose, who moved among scents and cosmetics, to whose eye a base design- was repulsive — he whom dukes and. duchesses could almost kiss the feet of and who in London Society moved* like a god among the common lot — the man who was going to teach the. World a better idea of the culture of humanity than Jesus Christ, the man that said the Gospel was for blackguards and criminals, but that; the aristocrats did not want it ; they could, clean their skin and do without God and Jesus Christ. Oscar Wilde one day made this remark — made it in prison. This was the man to whom a Methodist prayer meeting would have been disgusting, and to whom people who happened to say "Amen were Vulgar. He was in a khaki suit, had a Tittle Scotch cap on his brow, his hair had been cut so closr* that the outline of his skull was distinctly se'eri, and over every two or three inches of both cap and dress there was the broad arrow— the stamps of humiliation. He was a convict, chained—yes, chained to a gang of convicts, twenty of thprnjiw & row chained at Clapham Junction. Why was he there, this Grecian poser who would do things that tW devils would blush at? Let them hear what he said himself: "J nut the pearl of my soul into a cupfol of wine and quaffed it to the brim*' And the man who put his God-given soul, redeemed by the Blood, finished with two years' hard labour, chained with the poorest, scamps of tlin criminal world. Oscar Wilde, like the Master of Arts, had been hardened and deceived by sin. That was the pro-

gramme of the devil: "Do as you like!" Was that the programme that was going to make the nation groat or lift men above the animal? Sin deceived aiid must go. What was sin? It was a "dicOct hit at God, just as though a man had hit him (the missioner) between the eyes, and who was to toil how much that blow hurt but Jesus Himself? It was something between man and his Maker. . All correct interpretations and definitions must come from above. The ' interpretation of what sin was, must come from God. He prayed, that tho friends would say: "God helping me, from this hour I am going to accept God's definition and interpretation of what sin means and ask Him to savo me from it for over."

A meeting for children will be held in the Theatre Royal to-morrow afternbon at 4 o'clock . A .vivid description of the life of the London waifs is promised from tho Jips of Mr Flana-gan-.who during his fourteen years' mission work in tho world's metropolis was. brought into the closest contact with Londen children. AH" children will be welcome at thf> Theatre.