ngs of Israel, my people? Wherefore the Lord God of Israel saith,
I said indeed that thy house and the house of thy father should walk
before me for ever; but now the Lord saith, be it far from me; for them
that honour me I will honour, and them that despise me shall be lightly
esteemed. Behold the day is come, that I will cut off thine arm, and the
arm of thy father's house, and there shall not be an old man in my
house. And thou shalt see an enemy in my habitation, in all the wealth
which God shall give Israel.... And I will raise me up a faithful
priest, that shall do according to that which is in mine heart and in my
mind....'"

There was a pause, and then the preacher read a passage from Judges,
ending with the famous war-cry: "The Sword of the Lord and of Gideon."
He looked up then, and, without reference to the Bible in his hand,
repeated several verses:

"'And by thy sword thou shalt live, and shalt serve thy brother: and it
shall come to pass when thou shalt have the dominion, that thou shalt
break his yoke from off thy neck.'

"'He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one.'

"'For he beareth not the sword in vain: for he is the minister of God, a
revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil.'

"'And take the helmet of salvation, and the Sword of the Spirit, which
is the Word of God.'

"'Think not that I am come to send peace on earth; I came not to send
peace but a sword.' Not the peace of indolence and dishonour; not the
fatted peace of mercenary well-being; but a Sword; the Sword of the
Lord, the Sword of Duty, which creates, establishes, and safeguards the
only true peace--the peace of honourable peoples."

I remember his slow turning of leaves in his Bible, and I remember:

"'Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep His
commandments, for this is the whole duty of man--' the whole duty----
Yes, 'but isn't Duty rather an early Victorian sort of business, and a
bit out of date, anyhow?' That was what a young countryman of mine--from
Dorset, he came--said to me in Calgary, last year. I told him that,
according to my reading of history, it had come down a little farther
than early Victorian days. I remember I mentioned Rorke's Drift; and he
rather liked that. But, of course, I knew what he meant."

It was in this very simple strain, without a gesture, without a trace of
dramatic appeal, that George Stairs began to address that great
gathering. Much has b