If a ship were foundering at sea, and if the crew had taken to the water, we would recognize their peril at once. If rescue boats came near and ropes were thrown to the struggling survivors, we would hold our breath in the hope that they might be rescued. How would we feel if we saw one swimming man catch hold of the rope with a free hand and fling it from him with a gesture of defiance? We would find the sight incredible, and we would wonder if the man's reason had tottered, and if he were unaware of the consequences of his act.
Michael Patrick O'Brien, got on a ferryboat in Macao, without a passport; he could not get off in Hong Kong, nor could he get off in Macao when the ship returned. For weeks he went back and forth between the two cities while his case was shuttled between various embassies; some called him a Hungarian, others an Irishman or an American.
At the beginning of the second world war, I was holding a union meeting in the city of Belfast in Ireland. The great hall in which the meetings were held was roofed with a skylight, had it been lighted by night, it would have shot a beam like a searchlight over the darkened city. Each evening the chairman of the meeting announced that at the blackout hour the lights would be put out. One night in the midst of the sermon, someone pulled a switch that lighted the great hall. I immediately stopped speaking. There was great consternation; ushers ran to rectify the error. One man clawed at his companion, crying out in fear, "What's the matter? What's the matter? Why did he stop?" The companion replied that the lights had been turned on. Need I say that the reason this man had to be told that the lights were on was because he was blind? The coming of the light meant nothing to him.
If you were out on Guadalcanal with a rifle and a bayonet, and an enemy soldier approached you and said, "Oh, how well you are equipped, what wonderful shoes, what a magnificent gun, but that bayonet I really believe is soft rubber and a Hollywood prop." "Well," you might say, "If you really believe that it is soft rubber and a Hollywood prop, I guess I had better put it over here against the tree. I can't use it, if you don't believe that it is real steel." "Now," says the enemy soldier, "we are ready to fight with judo," and over his shoulder you go and land in the jungle.
The world is always looking for a bargain. Many a storekeeper has made money by taking an 89-cent article that no one would buy, marking it up to 98 cents, and saying it is something very special. Once we were attracted to a pile of advertising folders on the counter of a railroad ticket office. There in large letters was the interesting offer, 15,000 for 25 cents." This looked worth investigating. But like many of the world's offers, and like all of Satan's offers, there was a hitch to it.
