THE best weapons with which to fight moral battles have already been forged, sharpened, and polished, waiting to be unsheathed for conflict. There are some things that the ingenuity of man cannot improve. Man’s genius may perfect the locomotive to give swiftness to his feet; it may magnify his voice until his whispers are heard a thousand miles away; it may perfect machinery giving speed and accuracy to his busy fingers; it may print his speech and multiply his audience a millionfold; it may open new fields of endeavor, thus increasing the circle of his influence; it may do many things to break down barriers, and increase usefulness; but all the genius and skill of man can never devise nor contribute to any life a better or keener weapon with which to fight moral battles than belonged to us the eventful morning we left the old homeplace and mother’s presence, to begin, among strangers, our first conquest with the world.
As a royal exile David was facing a grave crisis. The relentless enemy was pressing hard, and he possessed no means of defense. Leaving his hiding place, he hurried into the presence of Ahimelech and asked for a spear or a sword. As Ahimelech was a priest, and not a warrior, he was about to dismiss the young man empty-handed when, suddenly, he remembered. Wrapped in cloth, hanging behind the high priest’s robe, was an old sword, the very one that this young man had one time taken from the stiffening fingers of a dying giant, whom he had slain on the eventful morning of his first great conflict. Slowly and carefully the old man took the gleaming blade from its resting place, unwrapped it with reverent touch, explaining that it was all that he had to offer. David was instantly filled with delight. His eyes gleamed with fire, his heart and soul were thrilled with memories of that bright morning, when, filled with the ardor of youth, he had run down the mountainside to make conquest with the giant. This was that giant’s sword! The very one that he had wrenched from the stiffening fingers of the vanquished foe. Reaching forward he grasped it in his strong right hand saying: “There is none like that; give it me.” There may have been and probably were better and more beautiful swords in the world; keener steel may have been forged into swords for the generals and kings of other lands, but for David there was none other quite so efficient as the one with which he had gained his first victory.
There are no newly discovered weapons with which to fight the moral battles of to-day. As David was aroused from the shrinking spirit of a fugitive to become a conquering king, by being given the weapon of his former battle, so each man must make requisition upon the past. Behold the weapons which hang in the sacred temple of our souls awaiting the grasp of a courageous hand.
There is the sword of our childhood dreams. Let memory make you a little child again with brother and sister about the hearthstone on a winter’s evening, and let your heart glow with good cheer. Or let the sunshine of summer fall across your way until you are a child once more, running with bare feet through the winding ways of the meadow, chasing moths and butterflies, or wading the stream back of the old schoolhouse, your heart as carefree as the rippling waters. Let the dull monotonous hum and soothing influences of those happy days of wonderment come back to your heart until your eyes half close and you begin redreaming your youthful dreams. Blessed dreams, that cause the muscles of your face to relax, while laughter comes to the lips, and compels you to forget the blistering ways you have trodden since those sun-bright days. Dream your dreams of tenderness and confidence, for the tendency of the city is to harden the heart and dull the sympathies. Then will you have a worthy weapon with which to make battle. You need your old-time faith in God and confidence in man, your former optimistic view of life that gave brightness to every future fancy; your trustfulness in mother’s love and father’s counsel; the belief that divine power was working for your success because your heart was pure; let these memories and fond dreams come to you once again. You need them. Without the dreams of life the arm has little strength and the will but little power. Let them come back, bringing smiles for your face, and wreaths for your brow, and heaps of gold for your coffers. Youthful dreams must never fade from the gallery of memory if men would achieve. Lay hold upon them with all your power, knowing that while manhood’s wisdom is valuable, it is not half so effectual in fighting life’s battles as are the warm dreams of youth. With the sword of a worthy dream a man can defeat any adversary, scale any rampart, take any stronghold. Youth’s dreams were never intended to be lost. They are stored away in the most sacred part of your nature. Plead for their return, and finding them, exclaim with David, “There is none like that; give it me.”
There is the sword of your old-time enthusiasm and resolution. There was a time when you believed yourself the possessor of a divine quality that would compel your brightest dream to come true. With age you are becoming more prosaic. You are not so confident and self-assertive. You excuse your shortcomings by asserting that you are becoming “more conservative,” forgetful that conservatism is very often only a refined name for dry rot or petrification. No man can win a fight with merely the weapons of conservatism. What you need is the old-time enthusiasm with which you announced your determination to leave home, the enthusiasm with which you packed the old trunk, and that fired your soul as you drove away from the old homestead, and made you determined to win fame and fortune at any cost. Time instead of deadening should kindle the fires of enthusiasm. You are living in the greatest hour of history. You are better equipped and environed and protected than the people of any generation. The quest was never so valuable; the rewards for noble endeavor never more abounding. There is no reason for any man giving up to indifference or despair. Take up your old-time enthusiasm until your heart burns with power that quickens the step and strengthens the arm. Lay hold of this conquering sword with which you have slain many a giant and cry with the spirit of a true conqueror, “There is none like that; give it me.”
There is the sword of your childhood faith in God. As you have grown older you have acquainted yourself with many theories and tried many dogmas strange and fanciful, but none of them have had sufficient strength and keenness to win your battle. You have been compelled to throw them aside, and now, in the crisis, you are compelled to face the enemy of your soul without means of defense. Then take up the sword of your childhood faith in God that filled your younger years with beauty, that warmed your enthusiasm, and made you fight single-handed while an army trembled. Kneel once more as you knelt at your mother’s knee; look up with an open face toward your Father in heaven; cherish his words and keep his commandments; and from this hour no man can defeat you. In the outstretched hand of your Christian mother is the sword of your old-time faith in God. May you have the wisdom of David when he saw the sword in the hands of the priest and exclaim with all the earnestness of your repentant soul, “There is none like that; give it me.”
There is no modern improvement in making swords for moral battles. Man’s progress in the sciences is not because he has improved but because he has employed the laws of nature, laws that have coexisted with the world. The telephone, telegraph, and incandescent are not the result of man inventing electricity. Science wins all her conquests by using old swords but perfect ones, because they come from the hand of God. We need no new religions, cults, or creeds. Being man-made they have no excellence of steel or temper. The emphasis must be placed, not upon the theory, but upon the moral laws which are just as vital to the spiritual life as natural laws are to the development of science. These laws are perfect. The Ten Commandments are incomparable. Not one of them is unnecessary but each one vital to triumphant living. Add to these the new commandment of Christ that we are to love the Lord our God with all our mind and heart and soul and strength and our neighbors as ourselves, and we have an arsenal with which to conquer all the powers of earth and hell.
The world is weary following the ways of men. Righteousness alone exalteth a nation. “Back to God!” is the war-cry. “There is none like that; give it me.”