called the twain "one." The husband of the East was carefully cautioned not to love his wife very much, as that showed an effeminate man. The kiss between husband and wife was wholly unknown, and when foreigners were first seen to show affection in this way, it was regarded as extremely funny. "Every time I see foreigners kiss, I catch a sick," said a student who was trying to air his English.—John H. De Forest, "Sunrise in the Sunrise Kingdom."
(1978)
MARTYR SPIRIT
Bad things are said against the Japanese,
with more or less truth. But yet, a nation
whose history has so many moral heroes
can not be bad at heart. Japan has produced
one man who gave his life to save the people
of his province from oppression and
ruin. He was cruelly crucified, his innocent
wife with him, and their children were barbarously
executed before the parents' eyes.
Yet this man's dying words on the cross
were: "Had I five hundred lives, I'd gladly
give them all for you, my people." So far
as I know, there is no other story in all history
so closely resembling that of the
crucifixion of Christ as this. The nation that
can produce one such hero has the potency
and promise of noble morality. This fearlessness
of death in the face of duty runs
all through the history of the people, which
tells of wives who willingly died for their
husbands, of children for their parents, of
parents for their children, and of subjects
for their lords.—John H. De Forest, "Sunrise
in the Sunrise Kingdom."
(1979)
Martyrdom—See Missionary Martyrdom.
MARTYRS
They never fail who die
In a great cause; the block may soak their gore,
Their heads may sodden in the sun, their limbs
Be strung to city gates and castle walls,
But still their spirits walk abroad, tho years
Elapse, and others share as dark a doom;
They but augment the deep and swelling thoughts
That overpower all others, and conduct
The world at last to freedom.
—Byron.
(1980)
Masks—See Evil, Disguised.
MASSES, AMONG THE
Alexander Irvine, author and lecturer, speaking before the Brooklyn Society for Ethical Culture, said in part:
Speaking for the mass of the laborers, the
men and women of the underworld, men and
women not knowing or appreciating beauty
in any form, men who know only the whip
and spur, I speak feelingly, for I was one
of them. I began work caring for the horses
of a rich man and I wondered then why a
horse was of more value than a man. I
had then the ambition to have as good a
life as the horse. I quit and went to a coal-*pit
and worked for a shilling a day in merry
England, and I saw there the same disparity.
I was a miner's mucker, and the mules were
better and far more considered than the
men. There was at the time a labor leader
trying to organize the men to work for better
wages and better hours. I tried to teach
them the way to heaven. He was doing
the better work, as those workmen in the
mines could not have appreciated heaven.
In a lumber-camp I saw peonage at its worst. I was a peon myself, under the whip and lash and the butt-end of the whip was held in Wall Street, and the lash cut the backs of Anglo-Saxon men. Could I find a magazine to print my story of what I saw? I could not. The stocks of the magazine company were owned by the capitalists.—Brooklyn Standard Union.
(1981)
MASTER HAND, LACKING THE
Some years ago I was chairman of a
church committee to purchase a new pipe-*organ.
We were an ambitious congregation,
and nothing but the biggest and the best
would suffice. We purchased a magnificent
instrument—three manuals, tracker, pneumatic
action, 1,944 pipes, and all the necessary
swells and stops; cost $5,000. It was
a "thing of beauty," and we expected it to
be a "joy forever." The congregation was
pleased; the committee was delighted.
But somehow things did not go well. Sister Jones, the old organist, would not touch the new-fangled thing. "Too much machinery and too much show," she said. Of course, we were adverse to going outside of the congregation for an organist. So we tried Minnie Wright, the deacon's daughter; but Minnie could not manipulate the stops and swells. We next tried Josie Grayson, an orphan girl, who really needed the place. Now, Josie could play with her hands, but
