Humble Devotion vs. Military Glory

HUMBLE DEVOTION VS, MILITARY GLORY. BY APOSTLE HEBER J. GRANT.

I do not know when 1 have heard anything that pleased me more than the article by Dr. Karl G. Maeser, in the November Era, entitled, "How I became a Mormon." I am sure that the testimony of the divinity of the work of God, as portrayed in this article, is

very striking and certainly must be beneficial in strengthening the faith of the youth of Zion. Speaking of his baptism, he says: "On coming out of the water, I lifted both of my hands to heaven and said: 'Father, if what I have done just now is pleasing unto thee, give me a testimony, and whatever thou shouldst require of my hands I shall do, even to the laying down of my life for this cause,' Soon thereafter he received the testimony which he had requested of the Father, and how faithfully he has kept his promise "whatever thou shouldst require of my hands I shall do, even to the laying down of my life for this cause" is known to every Latterday Saint who is familiar with the life-labors of Karl G. Maeser. The good results which have come from his labors at the Brigham Young Academy at Provo, are almost beyond calculation; so,

also, are his labors in aiding in the establishment of Church schools

and religion classes throughout all Israel. His labors as one of the General Superintendency of the Sunday Schools, have also been of great importance. His Sunday School labors were very closely connected with those of the late George Goddard, and there are none of my intimate acquaintances who have more perfectly exemplified in their lives the teachings of Jesus Christ: "Peace on earth, good will to men" than have these brethren. I have been intimately associated with Brother Goddard from

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my childhood, loving him with an affection almost akin to devotion and I entertain this same sentiment for Brother Maeser. 1 know of no two men who have more perfectly illustrated the beautiful sentiments contained in the little poem "Abou Ben-Adhem" than

they have. One of the reasons why I entertain such deep feelings of affection for these brethren, is because each could answer as BenAdhem did, "I pray thee, then, write me as one that loves his fellow-men." When God shall make up his jewels, these men will be among the number. And when the angels shall show the names of those whom God has blessed, theirs will surely be among those to be found at the head of the list. As some of my readers may not be familiar with the poem by Leigh Hunt, which I greatly admire, I have pleasure in quoting it. The lessons so beautifully taught therein, I have tried to apply to my life's actions. It is as follows:

Abou Ben-Adhem (may his tribe increase:) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel, writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben-Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said: "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made all of sweet accord. Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" Said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel, Abou spake more low, But cheerily still, and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again, with a great wakening light.

And showed the names whom love of God had blessed, And lo, Ben-Adhem's name led all the rest. How natural it is for us to bow down and almost worship the warrior! But with humble and faithful men like the brethren referred to, a warrior, who is such not from a high sense of duty and patriotism, but simply from an ambition to be great in the eyes of his fellows, or to make a name for future generations — even if

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we take the mighty Napoleon as our example — a pigmy is in com-

parison. Just at this time of warrior worshiping, perhaps it may excite a few beneficial and sober reflections to read carefully the essay of Dr. Johnson, entitled, "Battlefields, or Vulture Shambles," a very striking article: As I was sitting within a hollow rock, and watching my sheep that fed in the valley, I heard two vultures crying to each other on the summit of a cliff. Both voices were earnest and deliberate. My curiosity prevailed over my care of the flock, I climbed slowly and silently from crag to crag, concealed among the shrubs, till I found a cavity where I might sit and listen without suffering or giving disturbance. I soon perceived that my labor would be well repaid; for an old vulture was sitting on a naked prominence, with her young about her whom she was instructing in the arts of a vulture's life, and preparing, by her last lecture, for their final dismission to the mountains and the skies. "My children," said the old vulture, "you will the less want my instructions, because you have had my practice before your eyes. You have seen me snatch from the farm the household fowl; you have seen me seize the leveret in the bush, and the kid in the pasture; you know how to fix your talons, and how to balance your flight when you are laden with your prey. But you remember the taste of more delicious food: I

have often regaled you with the flesh of man." "Tell us," said the young vultures, "where man may be found, and how he may be known. His flesh is surely the natural food of a vulture! Why have you never brought a man in your talons to the nest?" "He is too bulky," said the mother. "When we find a man, we can only tear away his fiesh, and leave his bones upon the ground." "Since man is so big," said the young ones, "how do you kill jhim? You are afraid of the wolf and of the bear. By what power are vultures superior to man? Is a man more defenseless than a sheep?" "We

have not the strength of man," returned the mother, "and the vulture would seldom feed upon his fiesh had not nature that devoted him to our nourishment, infused into him a strange ferocity, which I have never observed in any other being that feeds upon the earth. "Two herds of them," continued she, "will often meet, and shake the earth with noise, and fill the air with fire. When you hear noise, and see fire, with flashes along the ground, hasten to the place with your swiftest wing for men are surely destroying one another: you will then find the ground smoking with blood, and covered with carcasses, of which many are mangled, for the convenience of the vulture."

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"But when men have killed their prey," said a young vulture, "why do they not eat it? When the wolf has killed a sheep, he suffers not the vulture to touch it, till he is satisfied himself. Is not man a kind of wolf?" "Man," said the mother, "is the only beast who kills that which he does not devour, and this quality makes him the greatest benefactor to our species," "If men kill our prey, and lay it in our way," said the young one, "what need shall we have of laboring for ourselves?" Because man will sometimes," replied the mother, "remain for a long time quiet in his den. The old vultures will tell you when you are to watch his motions. When you see men in great numbers moving close together, like a flock of storks, you may conclude that they are hunting, and that you will soon revel in human blood." "But still," said the young one, "I would gladly know the reason of this mutual slaughter. I could never kill what I could not eat." "My child," said the mother, "this is a question which I cannot answer, though I am reckoned the most subtle bird of the mountain. "When I was young, I used frequently to visit the eyry of an old vulture who dwelt upon the Carpathian rocks. He had made many observations; he knew the places that afforded prey round his habitation, as far in every direction, as the strongest wing can fly, between the rising and setting of the summer sun; and he had fed year after year on the vitals of men. "His opinion was that men had only the appearance of animal life,

being really vegetables, with a power of motion, and that as the boughs of an oak are dashed together by the storm, that swine may fatten on the falling acorns, so men are, by some unaccountable power, driven one against another till they lose their motion, that vultures may be fed. "Others think they have observed something of contrivance and policy among these caterers of ours; and those that hover more closely around them, pretend that there is in every herd one that gives direction to the rest, and seems to be more eminently delighted with carnage. What it is that entitles him to such pre-eminence, we know not. He is seldom the biggest or the swifest; but such are his eagerness and diligence in providing and preparing food for us, that we think the leader of such human herds is entitled to our warmest gratitude, and should be styled. The Friend of the Vultures."

I ask the readers of the Era to contemplate the above article and then carefully to reflect upon the life of the great Napoleon and compare it with those of onr humble and devoted Sunday School workers, George Goddard and Karl G. Maeser. And when they

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have done so, I feel confident they will realize that the warrior Napoleon was in very deed, "The Friend of the Vultures," and that George Goodard and Karl G. Maeser have, by loving their fellows and faithfully striving to advance the condition of humanity, placed themselves as Abou Ben-Adhem did— in the first ranks of those "whom love of God had blessed." We would think, when recal ling the fact of the five hundred thousand soldiers which Napoleon took with him to Russia when he crossed the Alps, and then remembering that he returned with only about forty thousand, that the very subtle vulture whose eyry was "upon the Carpathian rocks," must have been located near enough to enable him to reach the ninety per cent of Napoleon's army which furnished food for vultures, "Knowledge without practice is like a glass eye, all for show and nothing for use." I would urge upon the young men to do

nothing for show, but to do their best to obtain knowledge and then strive to put the knowledge obtained to practical use. I am

acquainted with some people who are regular encyclopaedias of knowledge, but so far as their knowledge being utilized for the benefitting of their fellow-men, they might just as well not possess it or be deaf, dumb and blind: this is all wrong.

George Goddard spent the greater part of his life in laboring to improve the conditions of our Sunday Schools. He in very deed was constantly "gathering up the sunbeams," and "scattering seeds of kindness for our reaping by and by." He is remembered in every Sunday School that he ever visited, as a veritable sunbeam, bubbling over with kind words, sweet songs, and good advice. "What are the aims that are at the same time duties? They are the perfecting of ourselves, the happiness of others." Kant. George Goddard and Karl G. Maeser have found their "sweetest comfort" in,

With a patient hand removing, All the briers from the way.

When we think of their noble examples, oh, how our affections go out to them! With all my heart, I pray God may grant that the youth of Zion shall follow the example of these worthy men, whose lives have been as pure as gold, in preference to such glittering but

damnable examples as those of a Napoleon.