“The greatest evil in New York City is, as everywhere, the saloon. The majority of you men present here this evening must admit if it were not for the saloon you would not be here as applicants for bodily assistance. There are evil spirits in us and around us to lead us astray; the devil's worst temptation is whisky or any other intoxicating drink. Man was made in the image of God; when a man gets drunk he is worse than a beast. A man will get drunk again and again, a beast will not, having seemingly more sense than a man. The saloon is the greatest foe to the spread of the gospel. In most cases the saloon-keeper knows quite well that he is a highway robber, that his business is ruining untold thousands of men, women and children, but as his so-called business is a legalized one, he may continue indirectly committing murder. “Really I have more respect for the highwayman and robber than for a saloon-keeper. During my voluntary and involuntary observations in New York and elsewhere, I have come to the conclusion that Christ would conquer the world in much less time if only the awful saloon and dive could be eliminated. “In my travels in this country and in the foreign countries, I have met many people who by word and deed were spreading the gospel. Some of them naturally inquired of me whether I had been converted. My answer was 'No,' because, as a matter of fact, I did not know the meaning of the word converted. I was told to seek Christ and the meaning would be made plain to me. Evidently I was not sufficiently willing to meet Christ half way, and thus I wasted years of my life before I finally submitted to the pleadings of the Saviour. “While I was in the Philippine Islands, twelve years ago, I was deeply impressed with the different attitudes of the officers and enlisted men when on the firing line. It was plain, even to the casual observer, that the men who were thoroughly devout Christians—and there are many thousands of Christians in our army—were not afraid to face the bullets, but the men who were agnostics and unbelievers, whatever that may mean, were so nervous and excited that they hardly knew what they were doing, or they were downright cowards. “In my own case I was not afraid of death, as I had given very little thought to such a possibility; besides I had become more or less indifferent to life and possible death. One hot summer day, while fighting the Filipinos, I was shot through the head. An army surgeon bandaged me up as best he could and then assured me I was very likely not to live through the day. “If I ever got scared, it was then, and if ever I prayed, it was then, in spite of the excruciating pains I suffered. The words of a comrade, who was a fine soldier, though not a thorough Christian, uttered by him shortly before I was wounded, were constantly ringing in my ears, namely, 'A man may possibly live without Christ, but he cannot die without Christ.'