“The Work of the Master”

WHEN a great and noble man passes away, even the apparently commonplace incidents connected with his career and illustrating his character are treasured up and made the texts of numberless sermons or addresses. It has been so with every notable name in history so far, and it will be so in the instance of that exemplary Christian man, William McKinley, in one sense a product of the Methodist Episcopal Church, but in a broader sense the creation of American Christianity. Among the McKinley stories which deserve to be told again and again is the incident narrated at the memorial service held in Vienna by the U. S. Minister to Austria, who knew the late President intimately.
     At the beginning of the Spanish War, Mr. McKinley had on one occasion been working at his official duties late into the night. He then pushed his chair back and wearily closed his eyes. General Corbin, who was present, remarked:
     “Tired to death, Mr. President?”
     “Yes; and I could not keep it up, Corbin, if I did not feel that I was doing the work of the Master!”
     That is it. All good work is the work of the Master. Whether it be the performance of civic duties in the cause of law and liberty, whether it be warring against worse than Spaniards—against the slaveries of the commercial task-masters, the corruption of depraved officials, or the tyrannies of the brewery and the saloon—whether it be temperance agitation, “slum” ministry, missionary sacrifice, or any other form of noble effort, the need is for this sense of divine proprietorship and participation in Christian enterprises. We cannot “keep it up” unless we feel that the Master is doing it along with us and through us. It is God’s work, and we must do it with God’s strength, in God’s way.