Both of these illustrations relate to the use of tobacco, and it will be well to add that a preacher who would feel himself called upon to conduct an anti-cigarette crusade on the western front would be equally a misfit with the one laboring under the sad delusion that to grip the hearts of the men in uniform he must lower his own personal standards. First of all, a man to succeed with men anywhere must run true to form, must be honest and be his best self; he may be very sure that the American soldier will not misjudge him or be deceived by him. War has an amazing aptness for ignoring reputations and discovering character. If the preacher did not smoke on the western side of the Atlantic, he does not need to smoke on the eastern side; it will take more than smoke to make him a winner. Of course he may run true to his best form and yet be a failure, but he is doomed from the beginning if he turns his back upon his personal ideals and standards. It is a pernicious fallacy that you must be like men to be liked by them; sometimes men want you to be different. There are supreme occasions in a man's life when, sick of himself and of his kind, he longs for a comrade and a guide whose language, whose habits of mind and of body, are the opposite of his own. Such times come more frequently where the iron death moans by than elsewhere. A cad or a Pharisee has no place in France to-day, but there are no depths in real religion and simple piety too profound for the men who stand for their country's sake in a soldier's narrow place between life and death. [Illustration: THE FIRST AMERICAN TROOPS TO REACH EUROPE MARCHING THROUGH LONDON AMID THE CHEERS OF THOUSANDS OF OUR BRITISH ALLIES Copyright by Committee on Public Information.] I heard a first lieutenant from Mississippi say to a young United Presbyterian minister: "I came to talk to you to-day because you are _different_. I feel myself slipping. At bayonet practice a man loses a lot of the things he doesn't want to forget." I would not refer to this if it were the only incident of its kind. I have given my two stories of preachers who got away with a poor start. I saw _hundreds_ of preachers in France, American preachers with the Y. M. C. A. and others serving as chaplains. _They are a great lot!_ Measured by every obligation of their ordination, and by their ability and their willingness to adapt themselves to these unprepared-for and utterly unanticipated conditions, _they are a great lot_! The American preacher in France is a _minister_. He is doing a tremendous work now, and he will do a far greater work when he returns. I wish that every pastor in America could have at least six months in actual service overseas. It would pay any congregation to finance its minister's trip abroad for service with the Y. M. C. A.