The D.C.D.
by C. T. Studd

We are reprinting the first half of The DCD, the booklet written by C.T. Studd in which Studd and his fellow missionaries issued a battle cry and passionate challenge to all believers. Its “don’t care a damn” premise scandalized the Christian world in England and many turned their backs on him and called for his removal from the mission.

The Prayer of a D.C.D.

Lord Jesus, King of Calvary! Conqueror of the grave! Forgive me, cleanse me, save me, Lord! Enrol me as Thy slave.

O Holy Ghost, inflame my heart, Then pierce and make it whole; Crucify each base desire, And resurrect my soul.

Lord Jesus Christ, dwell in my heart, Yea, occupy the whole; E’er since I knew Thy mighty love Fierce passion fills my soul.

Lord! Lover! Who didst die for me, I live when Thee I see; For Thee I die to all the world, Yet live triumphantly.

Lord, clothe me in Thy blood-stained robe— Soft raiment I abhor; Pain or death shall only make My passion rage the more.

I cannot live without Thee, Lord, In Thee I must abide; How can I crucify my heart And die a suicide?

Behold me prostrate at Thy feet! Lord, may I bear Thy Name? Then must Thou hide me in Thy heart Lest I should cause Thee shame.

Had I the choice of life or death, I’d rather die than live; How else can I reveal my love, I’ve but my life to give.

And yet I dread to die, for death Must part me from the Cross, But there my heart is nailed to Thine; Such life is love, not loss.

Hence would I live eternally On earth, yet daily die; For only daily death for Thee My soul can satisfy.

They one time called me H.A.M. . . . But now I’m D.C.D., Which means I’m dead to all the world, And only live to Thee.

“D” means that death has me divorced From every earthly tie; And “C” means Christ, my King of Love, For Whom I’ll live and die.

With Him I death and Hell defy, And fight to die and win, To spread thro’ all the earth His Name, And dam the curse of sin.

Tune:.”Jesus, Thine All-Victorious Love.”

SEVEN REASONS FOR PUBLISHING THIS BOOKLET.

1. It explains how D.C.D. came about and what it is, viz., supreme devotion to our Lord Jesus.

2. It is only fair play that D.C.D. having got about we should be allowed to defend ourselves from the very vile insinuations and charges laid against us.

3. D.C.D. is a Trumpet Blast to every Christian.

4. D.C.D. is a parable, an illustration of what Christ demands of every one of His followers.

5. D.C.D. is necessary because of the Namby-Pamby-Milk- Sop-Softie lives of so many who call themselves Christians, and whose caricature of Christ’s religion deters hundreds of thousands of embryo heroes from enlisting for Christ.

6. We intend to be D.C.D.’s while we live on earth.

7. This D.C.D. business is God’s test of us as to whether our trust is in men or in God; well, we refuse to look to men: we even say, “Cursed is he that trusteth in man,” and “Blessed is he that trusteth in the Lord.”

1st Edition published 1928.

What is D.C.D.? Who are these D.C.D.’s.? A new order? But why start a new order? Are there not too many already? Also this order is everywhere spoken against some. “Damn it with faint praise” and others with emphasis.

Such things are not to be wondered at. Once upon a time there walked a Man upon the earth, the only one sans peur et sans reproche from start to finish, a Man from God, born of God, Who never once sinned, Who went everywhere doing good, healing the sick and raising the dead. What did the world say and do? Well, the world was too busy with mundane things to care much about “this Carpenter!” so they pronounced Him guiltless, but crucified Him to please the seeming worshippers of God—false worshippers—of that day. Yes! It was not the world but Mrs. Christian Grundy who shouted. “Away with Him! Crucify Him!” and begged the judge to let loose among them a robber and a murderer. The only true, pure, honest Man that ever lived was thus described by these false worshippers of God, the State Church of His day: “A gluttonous man! a winebibber! a keeper of evil company! a madman! a deceiver of the people! a Sabbath breaker! He stirreth up and leadeth the people astray! devil possessed! a malefactor! what good things he does, he does by the power of his father the devil! a blasphemer!” And so they, thinking they did God service, shouted “Away with Him! Crucify Him!” And what did they say of one of the chief of His followers? “Away with him! It is not fit that he should live! He is an upsetter of the whole wide world! He causes men to defy all authority A pestilent fellow!”

Consequently we need not wonder nor be disturbed if in our day Chief Priests, or Scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, etc. speak evil of the old way of the D.C.D.’s. For the D.C.D. is not a novelty; it is no new religious invention. It is the old thing with a new name; the same body but a new dress; the old spirit, but a new bottle.

The D.C.D. is a sort of parable to constrain the Church to fight for Jesus. Christ at the start proclaimed the way of salvation in simple diction. The fire blazed up for a while, then it died down again, for the people had become accustomed to the sound of the words; the expressions were perfect, but by frequent use had become hackneyed, and so had lost their power to pierce the heart and prick the conscience. Then the Lord used parables, which compelled the people to sweat their brains and think of the meaning of the words they heard. Thus Christ used the parables of the Sower, the Field, the Treasure, and the Goodly Pearl, etc., because all these things were before the very eyes of the people. Today he uses the parable, not of the Sower, but of the Soldier, for the Great War has focused the eyes of all on the soldier. Today the soldiers, like the poor, are ever with is. Hence the Parable of the D.C.D.—the very essence of the British soldier—must be that of every Christian soldier, and of course every Christian ought to be a soldier of our Lord Jesus Christ.

The Origin of the D.C.D. Parable is as follows:

The scene is laid at a Mission station in the Heart of Africa three years ago. The Mission was a young one. Its principles were: Belief in the Trinity, in the Bible, in God as their Father and sole Provider, their Gospel Christ, their life to love one another as Christ enjoined, and devotion to utter sacrifice and death in order to do God’s will, viz., to bring about the evangelisation of the world.

Alas! Satan entered the fold and broke the square. Solemn oaths were broken, supreme sacrifice had been watered down, mundane recreations and frequent holidays were advocated as necessities, then came divisions and jealousies. Secret plottings produced bolshevism; Ahabs arose desiring to acquire Naboth’s vineyard for themselves so they stoned Naboth with false witness, but God turned their stones into boomerangs which, missing their objective, returned to put Ahab and his followers to flight. Thus God began to clear the decks on the Field. And no wonder, for, as the Holy Ghost through Paul had said, Divisions mean Heresies, and such had appeared. Some declared that Repentance was unnecessary to salvation and should not be preached to pagans. It was also affirmed that unrepentant liars, adulterers, thieves, etc. would surely enter heaven if once they had experienced a conversion. But if so there were around us some thousands of moral swine going to the Holy City of God in all their deceit, lust, and filth, because forsooth they had once been washed in the holy waters of Baptism, upon their solemn vows to forsake all sin and to follow their holy Saviour; for, alas, they had broken their vows and plunged anew into the abominable devilry and filth of paganism: so much so that even a pagan chief declared— “In these regions God has killed very many Christians before my eyes, because of their sins!”

But there were others who still believed and preached like our Saviour and His Apostles preached, and as the Bible declares, viz.: That none but the righteous shall enter heaven, and that such righteousness must he a practical and not a theoretical one—a good egg and not merely the shell of a rotten one—and also that such as would enter heaven must continue to follow Jesus to the end, and if they so do they will “do righteousness and be righteous even as HE is righteous.”

So God began to clear the decks on the Field, as He did with Gideon of old, sending back the 29,700 soldiers and keeping only 300; but as someone in another Mission Field has said, Gideon’s 300 loyalists, who were willing to live a dog’s life for the glory of God, were “worth more than ten thousand lollipops.”

Such was the condition on the Field when of His grace God began to cleanse the Mission, reform the square, and refit it for the work to which He had called it.

It was night. Some six or seven European missionaries sat around a rough board table inside a circular hut; the walls were made of elephant grass, the floor of mother earth, cracked and patched and repatched in many places. The hut had a nose at the top to provide an escape for the smoke of the open log-fire, alight in the centre. The roof was a grotesque patchwork of timber supports placed at various angles, and at different times, to bolster up the original structure, rendered insecure by frequent attacks of white ants and storms. From above a fairly good crop of “black macaroni”—formed by the smoke clothing the pieces of grass or string—hung down from the grass roof. The doors and windows would surely call forth explosions of laughter or complaints from horses, donkeys, or cows, did such adorn their stables in England. Around the walls were shelves with books, papers, medicines, tools, and such things as Robinson Crusoe might find of use on his desert island. A few pictures of great masters, though not by them, hung untrained and unglazed on the elephant-grass walls. There was a picture of Christ on the Cross, on linen; two prints of King Albert and Queen Elizabeth, nailed on a board covered with red calico; another of Captain Ball, one of the hero aces of the Great War; a map of the Belgian Congo, another of the world, and a chart of World History illustrated by rude drawings to render it explanatory to the natives.

These missionaries had come to read the Bible and to pray. The men were clad in khaki shorts and flannel shirts; no cuffs, collars, neckties, nor hair parted in the centre; the women were all young, wore no uniform, and yet were not dressed to attract attention to their clothes or faces or persons: at one end of the table was a regular old “Odd-Fellow,” bearded, a sort of “Rip Van Winkle,” a resurrection of a past generation: a sort of Cyclops, not because one eye was missing, it was his teeth that for ever played him and every one else such pranks. Nobody knew where they were or would be. They were missionary teeth, but wholly unorthodox, i.e., they were generally on furlough, doing other people’s rather than their own business. But one thing every one knew, i.e.. the betting was quite 100 to 1 against their being in their proper place and doing their lawful work.

The Bibles were open on the table. “Rip” began to read. At times he would pause, or make some comment as odd as himself; nobody ever knew if the pause meant sleep or thought or temporary loss of sight. The others treated him with a loving familiarity and yet with respect. He was an absurdity. His spirit was still that of a schoolboy, and he laughed like one; his body, as some one assured him, was that of a “graveyard deserter.” No half-cock attitude was possible with Rip—you either loved or hated him.

This night there was “a certain liveliness in the North Sea”; we had arrived at one of Rip’s favourite chapters, Heb. xi. He read it through with relish, and, as he read the last quarter of that grand chapter, there was a sort of explosive snap which seemed to go thus:

“Who through faith subdued kingdoms! (Bang!)
Wrought righteousness; obtained promises! (Bang!)
Stopped the mouths of lions. (Hallelujah!)
Quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword. (Bang!)
From weakness were made strong; waxed mighty in war. (Bang! Bang!)
Turned to flight armies of aliens. (Hallelujah!)
Women received their dead by a resurrection. (Glory!)
Others were tortured, not accepting their deliverance, that they may obtain a better resurrection. (Bang! Bang!)
Others had trials of mockings and scourgings, of bonds and imprisonments. (Bang!)
They were stoned; they were sawn asunder! (Hallelujah!)
Tempted, slain with the sword, destitute, afflicted, evil-entreated. (Bang! Bang! Hallelujah!)
Of whom the world was not worthy. (Glory! Hallelujah!)
Wandering in deserts, mountains, caves and holes of the earth. (Bang!)
But these all, apart from us, shall not be made perfect.” (Glory to God! Hallelujah!)

But shall we—can it be possible that such as we shall march up the Golden Street with such as these? It shall be for such as are found worthy! Then there is a chance for us yet! Glory! Hallelujah! Then Rip began to ask questions, yet could not wait for answers. The looks of all were solemn; they were silent as the fool who wishes to be thought wise: thoughtful as the parrot perched above, who remained silent except at odd intervals to exhort all and sundry to stand to “attention” or “at ease.”

Hearts began to burn! Tongues of flame shot out! Words came quicker and sharper! Till the inevitable occurred. The glory of the deeds of those heroes of old seemed to scorch hearts and souls. What noble and utter sacrifices they made! How God honoured and blessed them, and made them a blessing to others—then, in their lifetime, and again and again throughout all subsequent ages, yes, and now here tonight! “What was the spirit which caused these mortals so to triumph and to die?” “The Holy Spirit of God! one of Whose chief characteristics is a pluck, a bravery, a lust for sacrifice for God, and a joy in it which crucifies all human weaknesses and the natural desires of the flesh.” “This is the need of Christians today! This is OUR need tonight!” “Will God give to us as He gave to them?” “Is He the same, yesterday, today, and for ever?” “Is He a respecter of persons?” “Will He befriend the rich only and not the poor also? whether the riches or poverty be represented by money, talents, scholarship, blue blood or red?” “But Jesus was poor Himself! took no degree! and never while on earth called a single scholar, professor, or titled person to be with Him. The only rich man He called to follow Him refused the hon-our.” “Then can all and any have this glorious life?” “Yes!” “What are the conditions?” “They are ever the same, for God is just.” “Then what must we do?” “Sell out!” “He went and sold all that he had and bought that pearl.” God’s men were ever soldiers! Their lust, “to fight for God.” Their desire, “to abide with Him.” Their hopedfor privilege, “to die for Him.”

But all these old-time heroes lived on the wrong side of the Cross! They knew nothing of Jesus dying in agony for them on Calvary. We, disciples of today, live on the right side of the Cross. We know of, and declare as a fact, the death of Jesus and his utter sacrifice for us. Do we see the measure of His love? Yes, but only the measure of one drop of it. If they could thus live, triumph, and die for God, how much more devotion must we require of ourselves, in our service of Christ and humanity for whom He died? The record of every present-day Christian should certainly eclipse that of all these pre-Christ heroes.

What then must we do to receive the Spirit and so be enabled to live like these men of old—these prophets, apostles, martyrs? How can we become so hot for Christ that others will be scorched: so ablaze for Him that men will either love or hate us as they loved or hated Christ and His apostles and martyrs?

Shall we say the magic words— “Abandonment”—“Surrender”— “Consecrat ion”—“Keswick teaching”—“ The higher life”—“The Second Blessing”? Nay! The new-old wine demands new bottles. Such words have done much, but today, like the franc, they seemed to have lost their purchasing power. Perhaps because so many have professed, but so few have been possessed of God: so many have stood up to express their determination to fling away their lives and go crusading, but then have sat down again to eat, to drink, to play, instead of launching forth upon the deep of utter trust in God, to stop, at all costs, the mad rush of the world to hell: so many have become not “regulars” but “volunteers,” “free lances,” not obedient to death, but a law unto themselves. Formerly the words have produced acts á la D.C.D.; today, alas, they have largely become mere hackneyed pious expressions. We will come to the very root of the matter—God’s price is one. There is no discount. He gives ALL to such as give ALL. ALL! ALL! ALL! Death to all the world, to all the flesh, to the devil, and to perhaps the worst enemy of all—“Yourself.” “All that a man hath will he give for his life.” Aye, but he will gladly give his life for his Love. Aye, that’s the secret—for his Love; then how much more willingly, determinately, and joyfully will he throw away his life for the Lover Who threw away His life for him—for the Lover of his soul.

But we must make it yet more plain: we must illustrate so great a matter. Is there any common matter, known and understood of all men that will serve as an illustration? To be sure there is! Perhaps for this reason the Great War was permitted. To focus the eyes and minds and hearts of all on this one fact, that, like Wisdom of old, cries aloud in our streets, the chivalrous, the dare-all, the dare-devil, desperado spirit of the British soldiers, to whose spirit and valour and death we are indebted for everything we hold dear today, and to whom we pay homage in the tomb of the Unknown Warrior.

In August, 1914, the British soldiers were caught, few in number, unprepared, handicapped to the uttermost; so few they need not be shot. “Just march over them,” said the Kaiser. They could not possibly win, those few “Contemptibles,” but they could and would fight, aye, and they would die, and so gain time for others to come and fight and die, and others, and yet others; yea, as those British soldiers at “Ciudad Rodrigo”and “Badajos” flung themselves on the bayonets of the “Chevaux de frise” and died to enable their fellows to storm into and take those fortresses over their dying or dead bodies…so also did the “Contemptibles” and others devote themselves to death, that their King and Country might survive and conquer, and that their families should not suffer a hell on earth through the wile debauchery of the enemy. The “Contemptibles.” were few, but they had the D.C.D. spirit: others caught that spirit and handed it on to those behind.

Thus they all with a D.C.D. mind Marched and fought like a roaring flame, And dying, called to the host behind, Come on! Play up! And play the game!

So they fought, and so they died; and so they won the war for us! How did they do it? They were D.C.D.’s.

During the war some of the bishops began to learn the glorious lesson, and to teach that if the Church would once again be “terrible as an army with banners,” she must regain the militant spirit she had lost. Yes, indeed! But where is that militant spirit today? Ichabod! The only militant spirit to be seen in the Church today is one in favour of superstition, frippery, smells, and fancy dresses: opportunism and infidelity have together taken the place of the simplicity, purity, self-sacrifice, and valour of the apostles and the Apostolic Church, hence our poverty of power and heroism, which makes us stink in the nostrils of Heaven and Earth and become the laughing stock of Hell.

Such is not the real spirit—the real spirit is “the Soldier Hero Spirit.” Not that of all soldiers, not of those at Waterloo who charged full speed homewards instead of to the front, because they said their horses were their own property! Nay! But it is the spirit of that French drummer boy, who, told to beat a retreat, said he had never learned to beat a retreat, but he could beat a “pas-de-charge” that would wake the dead and cause them to fall in and charge. The spirit of the “British Tommy,” who never failed, but ever went “over the top” at the word of command, and who did it knowing that it was 50 to 1 against his coming back alive; and if he came out alive, it was 100 to 1 against his coming back otherwise than disfigured and maimed for life; and then after death loomed the great day which held for him no assurance of bliss beyond compare, but rather of a fearful looking for of judgment. Listen! These British Tommies, for their King and Country, their families and their own fair name, would go willingly to death, aye, and to hell. That spirit alone, that spirit for Christ, is the only spirit befitting a genuine follower of Jesus, and that is the spirit of D.C.D. That is the spirit Christ demands. That is the spirit of the heroes of God in the Bible. That is what the unbelieving world rightly requires of every true Christian. That is the spirit our own consciences demand of us, unless forsooth we have the hearts and consciences of poltroons. That is the spirit of Moses, and David, and Daniel, and the Prophets: of the Maccabees, and of John the Baptist. That is the spirit of “The Christ” and His Apostles! That is the only mate fit for the Holy Conquering Spirit of God. He will never mate with any other, nor through other do His mighty works, and with no other spirit can this rebellious, devil-driven world ever be evangelized.

Yes! But how describe this spirit, this attitude? Can we call it the Tommy Atkins spirit? No! That does not describe it sufficiently. We must go to the root of the matter. Well, ask their officers what is the spirit of Tommy Atkins that makes him unconquerable? From the Field-Marshal to the last joined Subaltern, all to a man say the same: “We know the thing well enough, but who can describe it? Ask the Serjeant-Major.” Now, the Serjeant-Major had trained Tommy Atkins, so he knows and replies: “Well, sirs, it’s this way, TOMMY DON’T CARE A DAMN WHAT HAPPENS TO HIM SO LONG AS HE DOES HIS DUTY BY HIS KING, HIS COUNTRY, HIS REGIMENT, AND HIMSELF.” Ha, yes! That’s the thing! The very thing! The only way to describe it. “He don’t care a damn what happens to himself so long as…. “ Aye, that’s it. That’s what we need and must have. A “D.C.D” doesn’t care a damn what happens to himself so long as Our Lord Jesus Christ is glorified. Yes! Which makes the greater demand of its soldiers, the British Empire or that of Christ; the King of England or of the Universe.

There came a pause. You could have cut the silence with a knife. The thoughts of all seemed one; the air was electric. An explosion was evidently overdue. Up jumped old Rip, he was young again: his eyes were fierce and fiery, as he looked toward heaven: his fist was clenched: his arm shot up! “That’s what we need and that’s what I want!” “O Lord, henceforth by Thy grace I’ll be a D.C.D. soldier of the Lord Jesus Christ. I D.C.D. what happens to me, life, or death, aye, or hell, so long as my Lord Jesus Christ is glorified.” Then, bowing his read, he prayed for grace and power to ever act according to his oath, as a “good old English gentleman, one of the olden time,” whose “word was his bond,” aye, as a real soldier and not a “sham fighter”; not “as idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean,” but a real red-hot soldier of Jesus Christ.

He sat down. The silence was yet more intense. Would the cubs follow the old dog?? The suspense was not for long; thank God! Up rose one, thanking God for the privilege—for the privilege, mark you—of being allowed to give himself, body, soul, and spirit, to God, and to be a real “D.C.D.” soldier of the Lord Jesus Christ, “for here and now I give myself to be for ever a D.C.D. soldier of Jesus, and I D.C.D. what happens to me, joy or sorrow, health or pain, life or death, so long as Jesus is glorified! Amen!” Hallelujah! came from the others.

Silence again; then another arose and followed suit, and then another, and so on till every one of the little company had given himself to be a D.C.D. soldier of the Lord Jesus. Each had vowed his D.C.D. vow to God, and each had prayed for grace and faith to be loyal. Hearts were too full for more. The company prayed in unison the prayer our Lord taught His disciples, and the blessing finished the meeting. The books were closed, the heads were bowed once more in silent prayer, then all arose to disperse. But it was a new company that left that hut that night, and by no means the company that had entered it two hours before. None that left that hut that night can ever be as he was before those two pregnant hours. There was a laughter on their faces and a sparkle in their eyes, a joy and a love unspeakable, for each had become a soldier, a devotee to death for the glory of King Jesus his Saviour, Who Himself had died for him; the joy of battle possessed them, that joy that Peter described as “unspeakable.”

On that night the Lord Jesus founded on His own Word—(Hebrews xi and Philippians iii)—a new Mission; no! not a new Mission, but refounded the old one He had founded in 1913, the “Jehad of Jesus,” the “World Crusade,” but which had begun to lose its savour. Now God had begun to reform the square after clearing out the offences. How can any describe the result of that night? Only the Spirit of God could do such a thing. His description, prophesied centuries beforehand, had been fulfilled again. “When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion . . . then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing.” “The Lord bath done great things for us; whereof we were glad.” No wonder our prayer is ever the same—“Turn again our captivity, O Lord” (Ps. 126).

The shell had exploded, the fire followed and spread. These D.C.D.’s nailed up a piece of foolscap paper on the door of Rip’s house, with all manner of quaint devices and strange sayings. At once they unanimously adopted “the skull and cross bones” as their emblem, for to them henceforth there could be no terror except disobedience to God. One quaint device, meant to describe the D.C.D. spirit and life, was a cross with a man nailed head downwards to it by the feet, that with both hands he might save others who were running away from the devil, pursuing them with his net and trident. Such legends as these were appended: “Do not SAY Die, but DIE!!” “No cross, no crowd of souls saved!” “They love not earth, nor life, but death for Christ who here enlist!” Beneath came the signatures of those who had joined the Order of the D.C.D.’s.

The news spread. Letters rolled in from other missionaries, who had heard informally, asking permission to join the D.C.D.’s: till some thirty had joined up here on the Field; others also from England were enrolled, and still there are ever more following.

Now, whence came this D.C.D. movement? Was it of God or the devil? When that small company met together that night not one had any idea whatever of such a thing, or of founding such an Order as that of the D.C.D. Whose child was it? That of the Holy Scriptures (Heb. xi and Phil. iii). Do thistles grow on apple trees? It was baptised in prayer to God! Does that cause it to be suspect? Confession, humility, and devotion to Jesus were the agents that brought forth this child. Are any of these the agents of hell or products of the father of lies? Is its objective the glory of God and of Jesus, or of self? It declares its sole object to be the glorification of Jesus, and it affirms that no sacrifice is too great to make for Him. D.C.D. does not express finality, but growth. A man is not a D.C.D. because he was once a D.C.D., whether five hours, five days, or five years ago: a man is a D.C.D. today because lie is living as a D.C.D. this very moment. Woe, indeed, to the D.C.D. who merely has a name to live, but is dead. This title of the D.C.D. is a thing that cuts across hearts as clearly and keenly as the Lord’s own words, “He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved: he that believeth not shall be damned.” So, D.C.D. is a healthy concern, for anti-D.C.D.’s dislike it immensely, and when urged to join up, “pray to be excused.” You see, a man is either a D.C.D. or he is not a D.C.D. The D.C.D. declares he D.C.D. for anything but the glory of Jesus Christ. It is plain, therefore, that the anti-D.C.D. does care a d—— for something other than the glory of Jesus—probably his reputation. Just so! Well! D.C.D.’s don’t care anything, including even a “damn,” for anything but the glory of Jesus. They may die. Their reputation may rot and stink they may even be damned in hell, but still they D.C.D. for anything but the glory of Jesus. Personally I am of opinion that if ever any D.C.D. gets inside hell, he will get out, and be the only person who ever got out or will get out, for what with his prayers and praises and hallelujahs and D.C.D. vows and propaganda, he will make hell so hot for the devil, that even though Satan should catch the influenza thereby, he will order the door of hell to be opened and the D.C.D. to be turned out—and you may be quite certain that henceforth the gates of hell will be trebly guarded, lest any other D.C.D. should play him a similar trick.

Some say, “We agree with the spirit, but not with the letter: with the face and heart, but not with the clothes.” As though a man should admire and agree with Oliver Cromwell, but refuse to follow him, forsooth, because God had stamped him with a wart upon his forehead. Of course, I quite understand your case, and that is precisely why some cannot stand Christ, for He did wear such awful clothes: He was born in a stable, was poor all His life, and finally died as a malefactor and blasphemer on the Cross. Of course, had He only come to earth with a silver spoon in His mouth, and tramped through Palestine on golden slippers, and died like rich old Dives, many would have followed Him to the Palace; but to expect a respectable person to lose his reputation over a pauper and a criminal is too much for anyone with sense and self-respect—and then, of course, the Lord Jesus did use such terribly vulgar words!! Just the very words, too, that naughty men and women use today, “The devil,” “hell,” “blood,” “damn.” Did not the Lord talk freely about the devil and hell? Did He not say, “He that believeth not shall be damned”? And shall we please the devil and Mrs. Grundy, by ceasing talk about the Blood because, forsooth, certain foolish persons use the word amiss? And did not the Lord say, “Whosoever shall he ashamed of Me and of My words, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed.” Because they use money wrongly, am I not to use money rightly? Because men gamble over horses, is it a sin or unchristian to own or ride a horse? Did not Jesus say, “How shall we escape the damnation of hell?” And what about the Holy Ghost Paul, who wished he himself could be damned if others thereby could be saved, and who prayed for the damnation all or any who should preach any other Gospel than that Christ, or who wrote to the Corinthians that drastic finishing touch, “If any loveth not the Lord Jesus Christ, him be damned.” For the learned and saintly Bishop Lightfoot has told us that the word “Anathema”was the strongest curse-word known among the ancients; and yet our Lord and His Apostles did not scruple to use it. Are we, forsooth, to cease singing “The Light of the World is Jesus” because the devil’s children sing the damnable lie, “The blight of the world is Jesus?” I have no scruples myself in using this word aright, but I have decided that if ever I become apostate to Christ and His D.C.D.’s, I will at least be consistent and change the words in my Bible, and rectify the sin (?) of our Lord Jesus Christ in saying “Damned” and “Damnation,” by crossing out the obnoxious words and altering them somewhat as follows:—“He that believeth not shall he spiflocated;” and, “How shall ye escape the spiflocation of Hell?” I greatly prefer the words our Lord Himself used: for I aspire to be, not His teacher, but His would-be follower.

Others, reckoning themselves to be followers of Simon Peter on the housetop at Joppa, say, when the Lord tells them to join up, “Not so, Lord, for nothing common or unclean hath ever entered my mouth.” But there their following of the Apostle ceases, for Peter heard and obeyed the voice of God thus commanding, “What God has cleansed, that call not thou common or unclean.”

Yet other critics have the ridiculous idea that if a man becomes a D.C.D. soldier of the Lord Jesus, he at once becomes a swearing fool, interlarding all his conversation with big and little “d’s”!! What? In order to save souls! Such wiseacres seem to think that our admiration for our heroic T.A.’s is because of their generous vocabulary of expletives, rather than for their explosive-, pain-, death-, and hell-defying courage and devotion to duty.

Part 2 of The DCD will be published in the next Intercessor.