The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1909-08-13


meat ?"-Matthew vi, 25.
i, + i,
Time was when a transatlantic trip
made the event of a lifetime People
prepared for ii with ali but fasting and
prayer. When an outgoing passenger
went up the galgplank his friends had
good reason 10 fear and his enemies
just ground for hoping that he would
never return to his native shore.
But in our day all is changed. An
ocean voyage now instead of being an
epoch in life is scarcely an event.
Travellers count their voyages as a
commercial man might reckon his
trips to Boston. Ones chief anxiety
nowadays is concerning the size and
location of his stateroom and the ex-
cellcnce of the chef. Few ocean trav-
ellers wake in the morning with a
sort of wonder at being alive SO far
from shore, but rather specializing as
to whether the coffee will be better
than yesterdays.
Nevertheless the voyage itself is
the real th!lg. What matters any
thing or everything else as compared
with the safety of the voyage? Who
cared afterward that the salon was
luxurious and the cuisine unexcelled
when the ill-fated Bourgogne lurched
to her frightful doom? 1t needed only
the jar and shudder of steel to declare
that the voyage itself is the real thing
Nothing really counts as against that.
The stewards may gather the tips, but
the crew deserve them.
So in life, the voyage ought to be
the paramount concern. The real
business of manhood and womanhood
is to make port at length. Yet what
preponderance of emphasis we put
upon things which do not really mat
ter twenty-four hours afterward.
What we shall eat, and what we shall
drink, and wherewthal we shall be
clothed'-these are the considerations
that rouse us. 1t might almost be
said that we gauge the values of life
in terms OF the stomach.
/ What do l think of your cities?"
said much travelled man in my pres
ence. 81 do not think of them. l care
nothing about them. do not want to
see your famous buildings or your
historic sights. Ii you can recon-
mend me to luxurious hotel l shall
| call your city good and remember it
with pleasure. 1t is not sentiment but
beefsteak that counts with me-"
/ Not twenty-four hours later l heard
a prominent American just so describe
his recent visit to Nuremburg. He
went into rapturous "reminiscences
over that portion of his trip. Yet the
object of his rapture was not the his
| toric walls of the city, nor it's great
chapters of action, nor the shrine of
its famous church, but rather little
restaurant where he procured the best
sausage and beer he had ever tasted.
Indeed, he might have forgotten the
church altogether save that it served
to localize the place where he bought
the sausage and beer. "Is not the life
more than meat?" 1t would not seem
so; not much more, at any rate. At
least it is difficult to raise life above
that level.
Such is the condition we are set to
| ASlt. Nol III inc lHtCISsl VI dSceli'
cism, but Of manhood; with a gener.
Gus thought for every creature com.
fort, but with supreme concern for
character, We may need to ask our
selves more frequently, "Is not the
life much more than meat?" Then
how much more? Life without q
definite port at the end; life unthrill
ed and unfed by the Father; life un
sanctified, however sleek, is the sor
riest failure.