--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Brigham Clegg collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 5 number: 9 published: 1902-07 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Brigham Clegg, "Speakers’ Contest—Sacrifice," *Improvement Era* 5, no. 9 (July 1902): 681–685.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0509unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera0509unse start_page: 681 end_page: 685 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1902-07) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0509unse publication_year: 1902 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1902, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Speakers’ Contest—Sacrifice — 680 IMPROVEMENT ERA. star is still in the heavens. And now, when you have attained to this, you would deliberately lower yourself again; or, if not that, fix a gulf between yourself and her that it will be impossible to span! Now, which will you choose? Contempt, degredation in the eyes of your friends, the loss of honor and respect, living all your life in common poverty; or the respect of your countrymen, a seat in the Storting, perhaps something higher, and, with it all, the love of Thora? And Harald Einersen bowed his face in his hands and groaned, "0 God, I don't know!" He was on a sea; the night was dark; the thick fog hung low; not a star could be seen; the wind blew hither and thither; no pilot was on board; his ship was drifting, he knew not where; any moment, she might strike a hidden rock and go down father was getting old; he was losing his strength, and could not swing his ax as formerly; his brothers were men; Hulda was a beautiful maiden; there were other children — and Harald was adrift, knowing not where his harbor would be. "For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" It was the still, small voice that spoke, and Harald could not answer it. "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him." The elder had quoted these words to him many times. They had not touched his heart until now. The advice had been given with perfect assurance. No other preacher had ever told him to prove his doctrine by asking God. Here, then, was a glimmer of hope. He would try it; put it to the test. Why had he not thought of it before! He had depended on his own strength and wisdom. He now saw that they were pitiably lacking. Yes, he would ask God for wisdom, and leave the matter in his hands. — SPEAKERS' CONTEST. "SACRIFICE," THE ORATION THAT WON THE SILVER CUP. [The third annual Speakers' Contest of the Salt Lake Stake, Y. M. M. I. A. was a feature of this season's conference of the young people, and was held in the Assembly Hall, on Saturday evening, May 31, 1902. President Joseph P. Smith presided, and Superintendent Richard R. Ly- man made the presentation speech. There were four contestants: Brigham Clegg, who spoke on "Sacrifice;" W. A. Howard; "The Reign of Law;" Carl A. Badger, "Faith and Works;" and Mark C. Brown, "Liberty and Gospel Light." The silver cup was awarded to the first named; and the second prize, four bound volumes of the Era, to the second. The judges on thought and composition were: Edward H. Anderson, Henry W. Naisbitt and David McKenzie; on delivery: J. T. Kingsbury, John Henry Smith and B. H. Roberts. Brigham Clegg, the prize-winner, son of Henry and Ann Clegg, was born in Heber City, Utah, December 28, 1876, is a returned missionary, and a student of the Latter-day Saints' University. Editors.] SACRIFICE. BY BRIGHAM CLEGG. "Gather my saints together unto me; those that have made a covenant with me by sacrifice." What is this sacrifice of which the Psalmist sings? Is it the struggles of life which secure gold, power and false pride? Is it the shedding of the blood of beasts, or the burning of incense upon an altar? Is it the loss of life on the battlefield? Nay; the sacrifice which demands our love, our courage, and our hearts' devotion, is more than all these. It is 682 IMPROVEMENT ERA. the shedding of repentant tears for evil deeds, and the burning of a love for God on the altar of our hearts. It is the dedication of our hand and heart to God's service. It is the history of the righteous toil and suffering of our fathers, the love and devotion of our mothers. It means past renown, present greatness, and future glory. This Godly sacrifice is born of love and courage. It requires the perfect will which terrors cannot shake. It springs from an invincible determination which enables one to die, if need be, in performing the duties of life. To better know the meaning of sacrifice, let us go to those who understand it best. Let us ask the gray-haired veterans of the Church to tell of cruel mobbings in the East, the matchless march across the dreary prairies, and the struggles it required to make the "desert blossom as the rose." How sickness and star- vation spread among their camps, and left the bones of thousands to bleach upon the sands. And how in all their bitter trials they sang, "All is well, all is well!" Let us go, also, to those among us who left their native land and came to Zion for the gospel's sake. They will tell how their hearts ached, and the tears flowed down their cheeks, as they clasped for a last time the hands of loving friend^, and bid adieu forever to their home of childhood days. The conditions of life are ever changing, and the youth of Zion today may never be required to undergo the great sacrifice which bent the forms and wrinkled the brows of our fathers and mothers. Poverty and persecution were their trials; wealth and peace, ours. Theirs was largely a physical, ours must largely be a mental sacri- fice. Mobs and outward foes threatened them. Our dangers come from within. The worship of self and gold, the lust for power, pleasure and fame, these are the enemies that threaten to undermine our faith and destroy our virtue. These are the trait- ors that creep into our fold, and sever the bands of love and union that unite us hand and heart. These enemies cross our path daily, and boldly meet us face to face. We must conquer them, or they will conquer us. Where is the enemy,however great and powerful, that sacri- fice cannot overcome? God commands us to conquer the enemies of life. He has placed in our hands a weapon with which we can SPEAKERS' CONTEST. 683 ^slay everyfoe. That weapon is the sword of sacrifice. And when men cast aside this magic sword, and depend upon their own weak selves, is it any wonder they fall by the wayside, pierced by bayonets of sin? Sacrifice braves every danger, for it is born of love — that perfect love, which casteth out all fear. It gave strength and courage to the ancient saints and enabled them to bravely face death for Duty's sake. Let us visit the amphitheatre of Rome and gaze upon a scene of sacrifice. See the throngs of people gaily dressed, marching up the stairs of the great circular building. Eighty-five thousand persons are soon seated in the galleries. The bright sunlight of heaven is shining on the metallic filings and sparkling sands of the arena beneath. See that man, with slow and solemn tread, come marching to the center of the arena. His trembling wife is cling- ing to his side, and in the mother's arms a babe is smiling. The lions roar and ramp against the bars at the sight. Behold that priest, dressed in robes of scarlet and velvet. He has arisen to question those beneath. Listen to his words. "Deny that Jesus is the Christ, and you shall be free !" Every ear is strained to catch the reply. What are the thoughts that flash across the mind of him beneath? "He that is ashamed of, and denies, me, of him will I be ashamed when I go to my Father. Be thou faithful unto death." Then rings out from the arena words that thrill the hearts of all, and which angels stoop to hear: "We cannot deny that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God." The people hiss and jeer, the bands play; and see! the iron gates are being raised. Behold those terrible beasts, starved for days, come leaping to the center of the arena! The husband clasps his fainting wife and smiling babe, and kisses them good-by! See the beasts tear the bleeding flesh. Listen to the moans of the mother, the screams of the innocent babe Hear the howl of the lions, as they drink the warm blood ! Because Christians are passing away, the crowds above are cheering. They are shout- ing their souls to hell, while the spirits of those faithful followers of the meek and lowly Jesus are ascending to God who gave them. Nor need we confine ourselves to ancient history, for such scenes of sacrifice. This is well illustrated in the unwritten story , 684 IMPROVEMENT ERA. of two humble elders, traveling without purse or scrip, who were denied entertainment, and were obliged to sleep in the primeval forest, with grips for pillows and leaves for a bed. The thunder roared, lightning flashed, and rain poured down as only it can pour down in the South. One contracted a cold which turned to pneu- monia. On their way to a city, to secure medical aid, they stopped at a tavern, and were given a bed in the garret. The sick elder lay in bed moaning, while his faithful friend watched over him by the candle's flickering light. The hours wore on. One, two, and three, came and went. At last the companion noticed a change for the worse. He saw a vacant stare, and a ghastly look, and knew what it meant. With agony, he shook the sick man and sobbed: "Elder Warren, you are dying. What word shall I send your wife, mother and children?" Softly, but sweetly, the answer came, "Tell them good-by. am sorry I haven't two lives to give I for the Gospel of our Master." He reached for his companion's hand, and in another moment he was dead. Let the world sing the praises of the mighty Napoleon who marched in triumph over many battlefields, and left death and deso- lation in his footsteps. But let saints sing the praises of the humble sons of God who when duty calls them die for the sacred cause of truth. Their names may not be found in the world's book of heroes, but will be written in the Lamb's Book of Life. And so, 'twas ever thus, the world has failed to honor the noblest forms of sacrifice. He who gains victories on the battle- field, by marching over the bleeding forms of his fellowman, is called a hero. Nations erect monuments to his memory. But the soldier of the cross, who lifts man up, and brings to his soul joy and salvation, often dies without a monument to mark his fall. Seek not false glory.The greatest battles fought and vic- tories won are not waged where cannons roar, but in the silent chambers of the human heart. "He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh ; a city." In the economy of the Great Creator, the blessings of heaven are bought only by sacrifice. If they were secured without effort, we might look upon them as worthless. The Lord desires his people to be tried. Trials give us strength, and prepare us for