Privilege means obligation to any honest soul."

One's Debts Should be Admitted

Minister Asserts in Sermon on Thanksgiving | Little Payments Now and Then Show Man is Honest, Rev. Jesse Halsey Says

Acknowledgement of debt to the past formed the basis of Dr. Jesse Halsey’s Thanksgiving sermon at the Seventh Presbyterian Church yesterday morning.

Describing the sacrifices with which modern privileges have been bought and comparing life in the United States with life as he saw it in Russia during the Bolshevik uprising, he said:

‘With this in mind—our comforts and their destitution—with this in mind, I ask you and myself—‘Am I a Bolshevik? Will I destroy the wells of the past, or seek to maintain and to build better?’

Using the text, “Wells digged which thou diggest not,” Dr. Halsey said:

“Ancient civilizations developed along the water courses. The Pilgrims chose Plymouth because of its brook. Isaac and Abraham and Jacob built wells. Water is indispensable.”

“We daily use the wells of the fathers. They wrought: we enjoy. Lightly we accept the blessings of home and country, forgetting the awful cost.

Examples Are Given

“Think, then, of some ‘well diggers’ in whose debt you have come within the last few hours. A telegram here is the result of Morse’s experimentation and privation. He had the greatest difficulty in persuading Congress to appropriate money to build the first line of telegraphic communication. Today we use his well, forgetting his labor.

“The shade of Alexander Graham Bell stands by every time you use the telephone. Into your breakfast room this morning came Cyrus McCormick when you made the toast. He with a thousand others who have perfected agricultural machinery and technique are your creditors. Your radio suggests Henry’s experiments, Pupin, Marconi, a thousand more. All this at your disposal for a few dollars—so simplified that a boy of 10 can make a receiving set.

“A railway journey—James Watt is there to see you off. His bubbling teakettle was 12 years becoming a steam engine and then only by starvation and deprivation. Ten thousand men on guard at switch and throttle and keyboard, making your journey safe. Pioneers, blazing trails, fighting savages made your journey possible. The Fair of the Iron Horse staged by the Baltimore and Ohio last month was a marvelous moving picture of the development of transportation. It only emphasizes our debt to the past—to inventors and engineers and investors. Your automobile—the tires alone speak of Goodyear and 12 starving years of experimentation and delayed success. Turn where you will, you only multiply your feeling of obligation.

Newspaper Given as Example

This morning’s paper—10 cents? Back of it, Cadmus, the Phoenician, or whoever it was that invented letters; Gutenberg and moveable types; Hoe and his presses. News gathers at the ends of the earth; syndicated material from the wits and poets and philosophers of every land. All for 10 cents—plus toil and blood and tears. For in Russia, for example, you couldn’t have your newspaper, uncensored. Free speech lies written here between the lines. Runnymede and Magna Carta, a thousand places, ten thousand martyrs—all yours in a newspaper for 10 cents, or two.

“Political rights are yours. Why? Because of Independence Hall and Bunker Hill, and Valley Forge. Track their feet across the blood-stained snow that bitter winter 150 years ago, and then cast your ballot as you handle a sacred thing. A woman in a certain precinct refused a ballot the other day because it was soiled. The clean one she received in its place was marked with blood, the blood of heroes and patriots. Every ballot cast in America is like that, it represents sacrifice. How lightly we use it.

“Your doctor is the most wanted and most needed member of society—at times. He comes armed to fight dread disease, equipped to give you the best science has to give. With the hospital equipment at his disposal he gives you the best that human skill can offer. What did it cost? Well, very much more than your contribution to Christ Hospital or some other. You may have given a large sum, but you’re still in debt! Listen to a bit of the story. Harvey was hounded when he told of his discovery of the circulation of the blood. Lord Lister was laughed at for a decade while he developed antiseptic and aseptic surgery. Sixty years ago Pasteur and Koch were derided while, with painstaking skill and superhuman thoroughness, they perfected the germ theory of disease and produced anti-toxins. On the basis of averages it would be a simple thing to say how many of us are here today because of the introduction of diphtheria anti-toxin alone.

“Think of Martyrs”

“And religion—wells Thou digest not.” Think of the martyrs of religious persecution, the fires of Smithfield, John Bunyan a dozen years in jail for conscience sake. Think of the makers of the first American Thanksgiving, the Pilgrim Fathers—and Mothers. Driven from home, to Holland, a leaky boat on the squally autumnal Atlantic, rockbound shore, deadly pestilence, bleak winter—all for conscience sake. Thanksgiving came out of that. Down on your knees, people, before the altars of your God, grateful for the wells of life given us by our forefathers

I speak to you with the lurid background of revolution in my mind. Ten years ago I was in Russia. All that interminable winter we saw destruction rampant. Wells destroyed, the best fruits of civilization wasted. And with this in mind—our comforts and their destitution—with this in mind I ask you and myself—‘Am I a Bolshevik?’ Will I destroy the wells of the past or seek to maintain and to build better?

“Privilege means obligation to any honest soul. There are many slackers. Taking all the past offers and saying no thanks in word or deed.

“Welldiggers are still needed. There are arid areas in business. Last night I received a booklet—“What the Central Trust Company Can Do for You.” This bank, or any other, is a Temple of Faith; it can promise and guarantee certain things because of the same costly well-digging process that has been going on through the centuries. Business must extend the areas of service and goodwill if ever it lives up to the obligations imposed by the past.

“Next time you open your Bible (today I hope) think of John Wycliffe and of William Tyndale, burned at the stake that you might read in your own tongue the wonderful works of God. Next time some civic duty presents itself remember Saratoga and Lexington. And before the campaign closes tomorrow night send something to Christ Hospital*—you can’t pay your debt in full; make a payment on your account. For you are a debtor to science, you’ve been drinking at a well you never digged.

“In Labrador, where I once lived, when a fisherman gets in debt to a trade, no matter how large the debt, if every year he makes a payment on the debt, even small payment, he is considered an honest man. This is called ‘acknowledging the debt.’ I’d like to acknowledge my debt to the past, today at this Thanksgiving season; I can’t pay it in full, even if I were rich as Croesus, but I can and do acknowledge the debt and with grateful heart will seek to pay a little.”

*(Helen Augusta—b. Feb. 8, 1914 at Bethesda Hospital, Cin.; Wilmun Haynes, b. Sept. 30, 1920, at Christ Hospital, Cin.) 

With thanks to: The Jesse Halsey Manuscript Collection. Special Collections, Princeton Theological Seminary Library.
 

Eva Palmer-Sikelianos

With thanks to: The Jesse Halsey Manuscript Collection. Special Collections, Princeton Theological Seminary Library.

Judge Samuel W. Smith

1930 Jesse Halsey Scrapbook

With thanks to: The Jesse Halsey Manuscript Collection. Special Collections, Princeton Theological Seminary Library.

Christmas 1916

The Messenger | Seventh Presbyterian

Christmas 1918

 

The Messenger | 22 Dec 1918

The minister wishes to convey his Christmas greetings to the members of the congregation. May this Christmas bring you joy. We have been thankful for victory, now with the Christmas song in our ears we think of the blessings of peace on earth and long for the reestablishment of good-will. No dream of prophet or seer ever excelled the ambition of statesmen today to establish a lasting peace and a League of Nations. One’s imagination fails to measure the possibilities of development that lie bound up with that dream—war no longer possible.

America has taken a leading part in making peace possible, her President is the leader of the other nations as they seek to realize their dreams. Let us support him as he endeavors to promote the Christian ideal in international relations.

In my interest in world politics I haven’t forgotten my parish nor you, my friends. I am grateful for the opportunity you have given me of having a part in war activity, and now with enthusiasm I look forward to this winter as one that shall mean much in the development of our church.

The Star of Bethlehem is the Star of human hope and glory. The Christian ideal has not failed; it is the only untried, program that remains, and men and nations are turning toward it and preparing to follow its rays.

In Memoriam | John R. Hubbard | 22 Dec 1918

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep,

God is not dead, nor doth He sleep!

The wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,

With peace on earth, good-will to men!

Historic Scene in Russia: The Rev. Jesse Halsey, D.D. (Eye-witness.)

by Jesse Halsey, United States Y.M.C.A. Representative in Russia (1917-1918)

18 December 1918 | The Christian Advocate*

 

A picture worthy of Rembrandt! A little room, log-built and rough, and humidly hot from a well-stoked sheet-iron stove of modest proportions. Smoke as of dense fog, partly the fault of the stove and partly the inmates, for the district soviet is in session.

But this is not the only contrast the room affords, for, I repeat, the Soviet of Mouman District, North Russia, is in session. Here at the table’s head, in full light, is Urieff; there in the shadow is Grokatoff; both Bolsheviks: one straightforward and open, the other careful, diplomatic, and almost crafty. Urieff, constantly puffing at his inseparable and immense calabash, says little, keeps order, and puts the question.

Grokatoff is “foreign commissar” and Trotsky’s personal representative. He, too, speaks seldom, but notes everything and daily sends his minute report to Moscow. It is his task to prevent the entrance through this port of all “counter-revolutionists” and undesirable foreigners of the bourgeois and capitalistic classes.

Senkavitch, the vice-president, is a Pole. He is labor delegate and head of the Red Guard. I can hear his cheery half-broken “Hello, John!” as he pulled me and my baggage on the crowded weekly freight at a little junction point one bitter midnight last winter. For seven years he had worked as a lithographer in Buffalo, and he said it sounded good to hear English. Always quick to speak his mind and as quick to act, he became less popular with his constituents as the days wore on; and when he tried to stop looting at a fire in the British barracks, his “soldiers” turned and would have lynched him but for the timely arrival of marines from the American cruiser, who sent him aboard the admiral’s flagship for safety.

Contrast Senkavitch, unkempt and uncombed (as he was in his ante-sergeant days) with the trim Zvginseff, who sits opposite. He has been a general, commanding one of the Czar’s crack regiments and for “certain reasons” advanced one of the grand dukes to a prominent position which developed into a place of real danger in battle, so that the grand duke lost his life—and the general his position. (Since then Zvginseff has been a democrat.) It is interesting to see him and the Pole together. One, the polished gentleman with French, English, and Russian at his tongue’s end; the other a rough workingman unable to speak even Russian with grammatical correctness, each admiring the other and complementing the other—the old Monarchist and the new Anarchist, each a real patriot, and learning to work together—this augurs well for the future of Russia.

In the background always, moving quietly to obtain some papers from the adjoining room or motioning to the president as he calls attention to some forgotten detail, never conspicuous but always quietly dominating, is Vesallago, “business manager and secretary.” He was a naval captain, and one night his flotilla of destroyers crept out of their Black Sea base and raided a Turkish port. Partially successful, he undertook to repeat his exploit the following night. The crew mutinied, but he drove them to their task. When returning to port, after accomplishing their objective, his sailors drove him off the ship. His admiral, who supported him, was also dismissed by the sailors. This was in the early days of the revolution, and both men luckily escaped with their lives. A few months later officers were not “dismissed” in this gentle fashion, and soon after Vesallago had come to the north and held a place as chief of staff to Admiral Katlinksy, two shots were fired in the halflight of the Arctic day, and the admiral fell dead at his office door. Vesallago succeeded to the admiral’s place, without his rank, and during the days of open anarchy that followed his position was very precarious. Threats and attempts on his life were repeated, and at last, one night in July, two hand-grenades were thrown into his room, wrecking the building but miraculously sparing the man. Allying himself with no party, blamed by his fellow officers for his “Bolshevik sympathies” and feared by the Bolsheviks as a spy and counter-revolutionist, facing death constantly, he has placed his fine executive ability at the disposal of his country without pay and without thanks.

But to return to our meeting, now enter the Allied representatives. First, the senior Allied officer, Rear Admiral ------[Thomas Kemp], R. N., C. M. G., etc., retired before the war, but now rejoicing to be back in active service. His kindly blue eyes, close-cropped grizzled beard, his almost shabby uniform and half-concealed decorations (this out of courtesy to the Russian officers who had lost  all insignia of rank and uniform)—these you would note. His slow, deliberate, almost labored Russian, as he makes clear his points, one by one—this you would appreciate if you are a novice in the language, as am I. The admiral’s secretary is there. Sometimes he supplies a Russian word of finer-shaded meaning, but whether he spoke or not, the amount of gold on his uniform would remind you of his presence. The French captain knows no Russian but is accompanied by the consul, who is an accomplished linguist and popular with everyone because of his engaging manners. In the corner, as far aspossible from the blasting heat of the stove, is the American representative, aY. M.C. A. man (selected for the very obvious reason that he is the onlyAmerican in the district), in a flannel shirt, which has powers to disabuse theRussian “tavarish” of the capitalistic tendencies of the American democracy.

Many things are discussed. Many questions are asked. “Will the British send fishing gear for the Russians?” “Yes,” from the admiral. “Nets and trawls?” “Yes.” “Will the Americans send flour?” “Yes.” “And sugar? And shoes?” “When may these be expected?” “When will the American cruiser arrive?” “Can America send some railway construction  engineers?” and machinists?” “Will the Allies furnish food for the Finnish contingent, who wish to enlist?” “What can be done to make the food distribution more equitable?” “Could the American representative undertake to market the season’s catch of fur?” “Does he know the prevailing price for white fox?” “What is the likelihood of the Kola bridge withstanding the next ice jam?” “How long will it take to replace it?” “How can we convince the natives that the wireless men on the hill are not prospecting for gold?” . . . One question after another, on and on; some trivial, some weighty with international possibilities, but all answered to allay Russian suspicion of the imperialistic ambitions of the Allies, to show our interest and gain their friendship.

One scene more. Just as adjournment is proposed, Senkavitch is called out, and soon returns, accompanied by half a dozen breathless men who have come in by reindeer to report the aggression of the Finnish and German forces on an important harbor some hundred miles to the west. What can they do? The general and Senkavitch turn to the admiral: Will he send a cruiser? A moment’s thought, a sharp, “Yes,” and his secretary is on his way down the hill to signal off the orders. A brief but carefully worded agreement is drawn up and signed. The Allies agree to help the Russians against the Germans and the Finns; they refuse to interfere in internal affairs or lend aid to any political party; they have no designs on Russian territory. Two hours later, H. M. S.“-------,” with full complement of marines and a hundred Red Guards, steams out of the harbor. “Intervention” in Russia has begun.

from "Russian Sideshow: America’s Undeclared War" by Robert L. Willett, 2003, Potomac Books 
In an action which completely frustrated the Soviets in the capital, the Murmansk Soviet signed an accord with the Allies, British, French, and even American. This agreement pledged the Allies to defend Murmansk and recognize the Murmansk Regional Soviet as the acknowledged government of the area. Captain Bierer of the Olympia signed on behalf of the American government, even though he had no authority to do so. It is interesting to note that this document was executed several days before Wilson’s Aide Memoire, which authorized intervention in Russia. The Murmansk agreement was completely unauthorized by the U.S. government, yet it was finally approved in October 1918. While it was a stroke of luck for the Allies to have the tie-in with a Russian government, even an out-of-favor one, the Allies pledged to protect those individuals who had faced the wrath of their own people by separating themselves from the Central Soviet.

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