It seems better in theory, but it seems to lose its ideals in the stiff test of practice.  They would be wrong in thinking that, of course.  But what conclusion more natural to the crowd that never thinks deep.  When all the difficulties and hardships come in the way of their acceptance of Christ, and the easiest way is not to, how easy to throw the whole thing aside.

The story is told of a Chinaman in this country who applied for a position as house-servant in a family which belonged to a fashionable church.  He was asked: 

“Do you drink whiskey?”

“No, I Clistian man.”

“Do you play cards?”

“No, I Clistian man.”

He was engaged, and proved to be a capable servant.  By and by the lady gave a bridge-party, with wine accompaniments.  The Chinaman did his part acceptably, but the next morning he appeared before his mistress.

“I want quit,” he said.

“Why?  What is the matter?”

“I Clistian man.  I told you so before; no heathen; no workee for ’Melican heathen.”

These heathen brothers of ours are not fools.  They are a keen lot.  They judge our religion by us who profess it, as we do with them and theirs.  There may come a wide-spread practical disbelief, or lack of belief, that there is any practical power in Christ to change a man’s life, and really control his actions.  And it will be a perfectly logical conclusion from what they find in us Christian nations as a whole.

Death or Deep Water.

And then there are some mighty bad dangers on the other side—­our side.  If it be true that every generation needs the Gospel, it is just as true that every generation of Christians needs to give the Gospel.  It is the very life of a Christian to give himself out in earnest service for others.  The man who is failing there has started on the down grade in his Christian life.  If we lose the spirit of “go” we have lost the very Christian spirit itself.  A disobedient church will become a dead church.  It will die of heart failure.

It was John’s Man with eyes of searching flame, and tongue of keen-edged sword, and feet that had been through the fire, who said to a Christian church, “I will move thy candlestick out of its place except thou change thy ways."[12] The candlestick isn’t the light.  It holds the light.  The Church’s great mission is to be the world’s light-holder.

But unsnuffed candles and cobwebby window-panes seem to have been in evidence sometimes.  The Christian Church in some lands has plainly lost its privilege of service, and lost its life, too.  The old organizations are kept up, but all life has gone.  There’s a grave danger threatening the American Church and the British Church just at this present time.

Long years ago, in the days before steam navigation, an ocean vessel came from a long sea voyage, up St. George’s Channel, headed for Liverpool.  When the pilot was taken on board, he cried abruptly to the captain, “What do you mean?  You’ve let her drift off toward the Welsh coast, toward the shallows.  Muster the crew.”  The crew was quickly mustered, and the pilot told the danger in a few short words, and then said sharply, “Boys, it’s death or deep water, hoist the mains’l!” And only by dint of hardest work was the ship saved.