The Morning Tulsa daily world. [volume] (Tulsa, Okla.) 1919-1927, 1921-12-05

BROOKS said. That IL all right.
Bob. ! have an eternity with which
20 vFlt with my friends"
Bob stood and drew one OF those
famous word pictures for which he
was justly world renowned. And at
The conclusion OF it men and women
swaycd to their feet. They shrieked
and screamed and their vocitcra-
tions ~ approval roleld down tho
streets Ike a simeon OF the desert.
He rose and said;
when ! think Of their God aud
their Christians. their Bible. thank
my stars ] am not n Christian. ia
rather be the humhlost peasant that
over livcd. wearing wooden shoes.
sitting by my cottage. Kissed by the
rays OF the setting sun az % dies out
In tho west, with my family about
me, At peace with tho world than 90
lived!"
Up 10 their feet they swavod and
screamed again and again-- men for
sot thcir social deCorum, thcy waved
their hats I'm the air. What wns
thut' simply the word picture. Let
mo paint q picture. Let me use the
saWc words and see II YOU do not
feel Ike jumping To your feet and
waving your handkerchiefs or hats
ms % mark ~ your approval and ap-
preciatiou ana thanksgiving to God
for the unm stakahlc gin NJ saliva
ton ana the hopes set before you
and the gospel
When I think of what infideli,y
has accomplished never won a
gambler from his cards. II never
turned q prostitute from selling her
wom1nhuod; 70 has mover put "a man
on his knees ana made him pray. II
mas never IN any way linked Itself to
tender clcvating morals
u would not take qulre nor "a
roam nor one sheet nor one line
upon one sheet OF papcr TO tell an
that unbeliof has evcr done for this
world, and well might ChrisihnIty
stand today as did her founder.
Jesus Chrht ono thousand years
ago. And as sho points To hcr work
of philanthropv. her deeds of char
ity her asylums for the blind and
MANNED and poor, the aged and in
iirm and dccrepit, Rs she points "a
hor churches with their towers and
spires pointing to the only source or
consolation and hope we'll might
Christianity ask OF infidoIity. Many
good works have | shown YOU fro m
my Father for which of those works
do ye stone me?"
And ! say to YOU, Ia rather be-
tho humhlcst peasant that ever
Ilvod, seated by my cottage, vine
clad, Kissed 10y the rays of the set
tlng sun "a II dies out I'm the west
with my p n Bible on my knee anu
my family abou. me nt peace with
this world and at peace with God
through my faith in Jesus Chris.
than To be tho greatest inrldel on
earth or in he'll
Infidclity Useless.
fnfidelity - oh. that condemns
faith It cNtols works. 1nfidclitv
laughs at believing and npplauds
dogma. I challenge al tho combined
forces ~ unbclief. for their achieve
ments have utterly and otcrnally
failed to bring relief.
They have never Eladdened ono
waste spot In the desert Of doubt
In the world, never have they helpcd
the world and lifted any one to n
noble life.
Years ago. the old Codumhina
theater In Chicago was thronged
with youth. old age, wit. wisdom
wealth, poverty, learning. iliteracy
there on the stage stood a man
created In the Image OF his God, his
gestures were the perfections Of
grace, his voice was music, and he
painted picture after picture Of the
pleasures OF this world, OF the de-
lights Of children and home.
Sc enthroned love and he put q
garland OF immortalles upon her
brow. He preached the gospel OF
numanitarianism like an angel. then
he dipped his brush into the ink ana
he hlotted out the beautiful pictures
he'd made.
He stabbed love dead at his feet.
Like a great lawless, orratic meteor
without orbit, he flashed across the
Intellectual skies brilliant for a briet
season in his self-cOnsuming flames
generated by his friction with tcru1l
truths with the Omnipoteut God. lie
struck his fanEs and injected his
venom through his sophistry, his olu-
qucnce and lying postuiates, ana
under that power the music hushed
the flowers faded, and the sun
turned to blood. the moon became
like Sackcloth ~ humanity. and
the universe was staggering Ike a
drunken man down the street. and
graves in which he buried faith ana
hope.
o. tell me not o Inf.do,,
There is no Christ. no heaven no
hell,
a solemn murmur In my soul
Tells OF a world to be-
As the traveller hears the billows
ron
Before hc reaches the sea.
when every earthly hope has fled
When angry seas their biilows fling
How sweet to Jean on what GOD said
How firmly to Christs cross /
cling.
Years ago. the keeper OF a draw.
bridge on n railroad received an or
der to keep the bridge closed, as
special was due at certain hour.
after receiving II a tug boat
whistled for the bridge to turn TO lot
"A three mast schooner out TO sea.
He looked al his watch and said
Il have time to let hcr through
lie turned tho bridge and she passed
out TO sea. Trying TO swing II back.
the machinery refused TO work. He
heard The shrek Of the whistle OF
the special. Sine dashed upon the
partly closed wbridRe. and down
She went and II lives were lost.
That mans hair became as white
as the driven snow. They took him
TO Wards island where hS paced
back and forth I'm his cell for years.
a