enemy's presence-He works in us both to will and to do His good pleasure. In this we are working with Him. This is the struggle which causes the Christian's whole life to be a fight, a war that ends only in that last battle-death. We have no cause for fear, however; we need not fear our foe. We fight a beaten enemy, whose power over us Christ has already removed. Each Christian has a weapon of tried and full strength, irresistible by Satan-the Sword of the Spirit, the Word of God. Such is the picture Luther portrays in the third stanza of the hymn. Now comes the conclusion:

"The Word they still must let remain,

And not a thank have for it,

He's by our side upon the plain,

With His good gifts and spirit.

Take they then our life,

Goods, fame, child, and wife;

When their worst is done,

They yet have nothing won;

The Kingdom ours remaineth."

That is "After the Battle." Again the scene is still. The enemy has disappeared. He has done sore hurt; much, much has been lost. But the victorious hosts hold their swords, the Word is theirs. The grim old fortress, which is God, stands firm forever, unshaken upon eternal foundations. So it is for us. The Christian in his life-long fight loses many a treasure-for a while. How many a Christian gives life itself on the field, and adds his name to those who have sacrificed all for Christ's sake or to those who have literally been martyrs of the cross. But no enemy can rob him of the abiding Word-its strength and comfort. No power can take from him the Kingdom. Nobody can pluck him out of the hand of God and the hand of Christ.

There are some things earth and hell cannot touch-they are the best things, the eternal things.

That is the story Luther tells us in his hymn. That is the panorama he passes before our eyes. First the quiet, though awesome view before the battle; then the scene of two champions in decisive duel; then a turmoil of warring armies, lasting through the Christian ages; then quiet again, after the battle, with a reckoning of what is lost, what is held. It is true that each stanza gives some suggestions in its thought of the one that is to follow, and that each new picture looks back in part to the one that has preceded. That forms the connecting links through the hymn. The special scene and thought of each stanza is, however, distinct. Out of his own life of turmoil and struggle the Reformer sang this song of conscious, assured victory. How truly does it express the word of our text, taken from the Psalm upon which Luther based the hymn: "God is our Refuge and Strength, * therefore will not we fear." How truly the song breathes the whole thought and spirit of that Psalm, although a casual reading of both scarcely shows their relation, excepting in the opening words. Study the Psalm, and note that there are the selfsame vivid conceptions of a powerful enemy, antagonistic to God, causing fearful struggle and confusion, compelling fear and fight for the people of God; of God's help to His cause, His early help; of our confidence amid all trembling and turmoil; of the power that overcomes, God's uttered voice, His Word; of His enduring kingdom, His sure exaltation in the earth. All the essentially great truths of the Psalm are the essentially great truths of the hymn. There is no mistaking the unity of spirit in both. The hymn is but a version of the 46th Psalm. Comparison has well

*

been made between Luther's song and that of Newman, "Lead, Kindly Light." One is the song of a Christian coming out of the semi-darkness of Roman Catholicism into the light of the Gospel, as Protestantism knows it; the other is the song of one who, though in name a Protestant, had never known the "light that shineth in a dark place," and who was groping after the dim light of the Church of Rome. How great is the contrast between the two hymns! They are indeed both songs of faith, but how almost doubtfully the one pleads, while the other is mighty in its perfect assurance-assurance begotten of complete confidence in the Savior, what He has done and is doing. The one hymn says barely more than, "I hope"; the other says, "I know." Luther's hymn is distinctly that of Protestantism, the hymn of great faith.

Now, Christians, as we come down from the mountainous height of Luther's faith, as he has sung it, what shall we say of ourselves? What are our lives? What is their confidence, their vivid conceptions of the facts of life? Was he too bold in his rugged convictions, or are we too weak and timid in our failure to trust through all Christ's constant victory? Is his assurance too rash, or are we guilty of half-heartedness in our devotion to the truth and power of the Word of God? No answer is needed. It is a fearful descent to come from his hymn down into our own selfish, calculating, faithless lives. How cheap, how small we seem!

Let us remember that we are living in the third stanza of the hymn, we who have by our faith in the Savior appropriated to ourselves His victory for us. The Christian life is a constant battle in Christ's name; the military note that rings through all of Paul's life and letters is a true one for us all; the seemingly quiet life of our Master was after all,

to the observing watcher of His words, a constant struggle until He had overcome the world and the prince of this world. His enemy is our enemy-and he is a living, vigorous, guileful, and mighty enemy. But let us remember again that we fight a beaten enemy; that the same assurance which Luther had may be ours; that the same trusty weapon is in our hand, the Word of God-"the Scripture cannot be broken"; the same victories are still to be won for faith. Let us learn to pray from the heart those words in the Collect of our evening service that we may be "defended from the fear of our enemies." "God is our Refuge and Strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea."

LUTHER'S COAT-OF-ARMS.

By the Rev. C. J. Soedergren, Burlington, Iowa.

In later mediaeval times, beginning with the Crusades, it became the practice of the knight, especially, to wear armorial insignia on his shield or cloak to distinguish him and make him conspicuous in battle. The design was usually suggested by his name, his previous occupation or position, the province of his home, the object of his ambition, or some extraordinary event in the history of his family. The arms of Luther's father consisted of a cross-bow with a rose on each side. The origin and meaning of this design are unknown; but it had been handed down through many generations, which would suggest the possibility, even the probability, of Luther being a lineal descendant of one of the old knights, who took upon himself the sign of the cross and fought the "battles of the Lord" as a Crusader against "the terrible Turk" in the Holy Land. It was at least preeminently fitting that Luther should have a coat-of-arms as his very name means, "one renowned in battle"; and he certainly did fight "the battles of the Lord" as a valiant knight in a far greater and truer Crusade than those of the preceding centuries.

As early as 1517 Luther changed the design of the paternal escutcheon to a cross in the center of a red heart