secretary.

"Yes," he replied; "if ever this pore ole worl' needed the sustainin'
power of the religion of the Christ, it does now; an' if ever this pore
ole worl' was in trouble, that time suttinly is right now," he added
with fervor.

And now I can never think of the world, nor of the folks back here at
home, nor of the millions of our boys over there that I do not hear the
sweet voices of that crowd of negroes singing reverently and fervently:

"It is good for a world in trouble;
It is good for a world in trouble;
It is good for a world in trouble;
And it's good enough for me."

Another Silhouette of Song that stands out against the background of
memory is that of a hymn that I heard in Doctor Charles Jefferson's
church just before I sailed for France. I was lonely. I walked into
that great city church a stranger, as thousands of boys who have sailed
from New York have done. I never remember to have been so unutterably
lonely and homesick. It was cold in the city, and I was alone. I
turned to a church. Thousands of boys have done the same, may the
mothers and fathers of America know, and they have found comfort. If
the parents of this great nation could know how well their boys are
guarded and cared for in New York City before they sail, they would
have a feeling of comfort.

I sat down in this great church. I was thinking more of other Sabbath
mornings at home, with my wife and baby, than anything else. A hymn
was announced. I stood up mechanically, but there was no song in my
throat. There was a great lump of loneliness only. But suddenly I
listened to the words they were singing. Had they selected that hymn
just for me? It seemed so. It so answered the loneliness in my heart
with comfort and quiet. That great congregation was singing:

"Peace, perfect peace;
With loved ones far away;
In Jesus' keeping, we are safe; and they."

A great sense of peace settled over my heart, and I have quoted that
old hymn all over France to the boys, and they have been comforted.
Many a boy has asked me to write him a copy of that verse to stick in
his note-book. It seemed to give a sense of comfort to the lads, for
their loved ones, too, were "far away," and since I have come home I
find that this, too, comes as a great comfort hymn to those who are
here lonely for their boys "over there."

And who shall forget the silhouette of approaching the shores of France
by night as they hav