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I began to think of the many vessels, great and small, which through the long years, had entered the port. Merchantmen and men-of-war, freighters and pleasure-boats, yachts and schooners and excursion steamers, ships of adventure and of exploration, rakish blockaders, boats stript to their decks, grim and threatening, with all the paraphernalia and munitions of war; and ships gay, with bunting flying, with music and laughter resounding, and with decks crowded with merry throngs of pleasure-seekers. For all, the light in the church spire shone to show them a safe port and to guide the ship to its desired haven.

It seemed to me to tell the story of what the Church is for, to answer, in part at least, the question why Christ wanted a church. The light shining over Charleston harbor from St Philip's spire, and far out to sea, is a picture of the mission of every church in the world.

The mission of the Church is to shine the harbor-light. It is to illuminate the darkness and, through the gathering gloom, to point the true way. It is to show voyagers on the sea of life how to reach the true haven. It is to tell wanderers how to find their Father's house. It is to guide the soul to God. It is to shine out the harbor-light, so that souls in the offing may reach, in safety, life's true destination. (Text.)

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CHURCH, NEED OF THE

A message in the form of a letter from Monsignor Bonomelli was read to the delegates attending the World Missionary Conference, held in Edinburgh, June, 1910, part of which reads:

All of you feel the need of a church, which may be the outward manifestation of your faith and religious feeling, the vigilant custodian now and here of Christian doctrine and tradition. It sustains and keeps alive religion and individual activity, in virtue of that strong power of suggestion, which collectively always exercises on the individual.

"Sir," exclaims Johnson, "it is a very dangerous thing for a man not to belong to any church!"

And this is true. How many of us would fall a thousand times were it not for this support!

From the various churches and religious denominations, into which you Christians are divided, there arises a new unifying element, a noble aspiration, restraining too great impulsiveness, leveling dividing barriers, and working for the realization of the one holy church through all the children of redemption.

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Church, Obligations to the—See.

CHURCH ONLY A MEANS

A church is like the steps leading in to a beautiful mansion, but you do not sit down on the steps, you do not set up a tent on the steps, you do not live on the steps—the steps lift you to the level of the warm room, the blazing winter's fire, the bower of home that receives you out of the driving rain or pelting snow. All the ordinances of the Church are steps that lead to the house of character, adorned with all those rich treasures, named truth, gentleness, meekness and justice and sympathy. The Church is a hostelry in which man stops for a night on his journey home. The end of the Church is character.—

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CHURCH SERVICES

Dr. Donald Sage Mackay remarks on the effects on communities of neglect of church attendance:

One of the papers in New York has been making a personal examination into the political morals of a certain New England State. It has been alleged that politically that State is rotten, that its voters are regularly bought and sold at every election. A detailed description of each of the most corrupt towns in that State was given, and this was the appalling fact brought out: The worst towns (some of them with a few hundred inhabitants), where bribery was most persistent, where illegal liquor-*selling was most rampant, where immorality was most flagrant, were those towns in which there was no resident minister and where no Christian service was regularly held. For instance, in one town known as "darkest Exeter," there were twenty years ago six churches; four of them are in ruins to-day, two are occasionally used, but there is no resident minister. The result is "darkest Exeter"—a New England farming town, once peopled by the sturdy sons of the Pilgrim, heir to all the noble qualities of a sturdy race.—"The Religion of the Threshold."

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