nd true he had the sense of divine
reinforcement making him equal to the tasks which fell to his lot.
Then there came a time when by his own actions he forfeited all this.
He became as weak as a rag in the face of temptation, in the presence
of duty, in some great opportunity for valiant effort which opened
before him. And he did not realize how weak he was until he went down
in defeat. "He wist not that the Lord had departed from him."

The spirit of self-indulgence, I care not whether it goes straight for
the coarse sins of the flesh or moves in more refined ways towards the
life of selfish ease and barren culture, will take the iron out of a
man's blood. It will take the vim out of his muscles, the power to
hold fast out of his will.

The man who saves his life for his own personal gratification will soon
find that he has no life to save. That which makes life life is gone.
It is the habit of self-control, the spirit of self-surrender to the
will of God, the purpose of self-dedication to the highest ends in
sight, which puts power into the thrust of each man's effort.

The circular letter which Lord Kitchener, head of the War Office, sent
to every British soldier when the English troops were ordered to the
Continent reads like a classic:

"You are ordered abroad as a soldier of the King. The honour of the
British Army depends upon your individual conduct. You have a task to
perform which will need courage, energy, and patience. Be on your
guard against excesses. You will find temptation both in women and in
wine. Resist both and do your duty bravely. Fear God. Honour the
King.

"(Signed) KITCHENER."

Hang those great words up in your mind! Hang the picture of that
strong, stern, brave man in your heart that you too may wear the cross
of honour.

If it is good for men to be sober and clean in war time, why not at all
times? Have we not sore need of these same qualities in the more
exacting pursuits of peace? Every man who is worthy of the name of man
is set to guard some sacred interest, though he carries neither gun nor
sword.

Here is the everlasting fight being waged three hundred and sixty-five
days in the year--and it is waged year in and year out for there is no
discharge in that war--against hunger and cold, against disease and
death, against poverty and crime! Why not have men at their best in
the mill and in the mine, on the farm and in the factory, in the
counting-room and in th