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diff --git a/old/nhstp10.txt b/old/nhstp10.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4e33af3..0000000 --- a/old/nhstp10.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8987 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg Etext of In His Steps, by Charles M. Sheldon - -Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before distributing this or any other -Project Gutenberg file. - -We encourage you to keep this file, exactly as it is, on your -own disk, thereby keeping an electronic path open for future -readers. Please do not remove this. - -This header should be the first thing seen when anyone starts to -view the etext. 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Hart -and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] -[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales -of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or -software or any other related product without express permission.] - -*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* - - - - - - -Edited by Charles Aldarondo Aldarondo@yahoo.com - - - - -In His Steps - -by - -Charles M. Sheldon - - - - - - -Chapter One - - - - - -"For hereunto were ye called; because Christ also suffered for you, -leaving you an example, that ye should follow in his steps." - -It was Friday morning and the Rev. Henry Maxwell was trying to -finish his Sunday morning sermon. He had been interrupted several -times and was growing nervous as the morning wore away, and the -sermon grew very slowly toward a satisfactory finish. - -"Mary," he called to his wife, as he went upstairs after the last -interruption, "if any one comes after this, I wish you would say I -am very busy and cannot come down unless it is something very -important." - -"Yes, Henry. But I am going over to visit the kindergarten and you -will have the house all to yourself." - -The minister went up into his study and shut the door. In a few -minutes he heard his wife go out, and then everything was quiet. He -settled himself at his desk with a sigh of relief and began to -write. His text was from 1 Peter 2:21: "For hereunto were ye called; -because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that ye -should follow his steps." - -He had emphasized in the first part of the sermon the Atonement as a -personal sacrifice, calling attention to the fact of Jesus' -suffering in various ways, in His life as well as in His death. He -had then gone on to emphasize the Atonement from the side of -example, giving illustrations from the life and teachings of Jesus -to show how faith in the Christ helped to save men because of the -pattern or character He displayed for their imitation. He was now on -the third and last point, the necessity of following Jesus in His -sacrifice and example. - -He had put down "Three Steps. What are they?" and was about to -enumerate them in logical order when the bell rang sharply. It was -one of those clock-work bells, and always went off as a clock might -go if it tried to strike twelve all at once. - -Henry Maxwell sat at his desk and frowned a little. He made no -movement to answer the bell. Very soon it rang again; then he rose -and walked over to one of his windows which commanded the view of -the front door. A man was standing on the steps. He was a young man, -very shabbily dressed. - -"Looks like a tramp," said the minister. "I suppose I'll have to go -down and--" - -He did not finish his sentence but he went downstairs and opened the -front door. There was a moment's pause as the two men stood facing -each other, then the shabby-looking young man said: - -"I'm out of a job, sir, and thought maybe you might put me in the -way of getting something." - -"I don't know of anything. Jobs are scarce--" replied the minister, -beginning to shut the door slowly. - -"I didn't know but you might perhaps be able to give me a line to -the city railway or the superintendent of the shops, or something," -continued the young man, shifting his faded hat from one hand to the -other nervously. - -"It would be of no use. You will have to excuse me. I am very busy -this morning. I hope you will find something. Sorry I can't give you -something to do here. But I keep only a horse and a cow and do the -work myself." - -The Rev. Henry Maxwell closed the door and heard the man walk down -the steps. As he went up into his study he saw from his hall window -that the man was going slowly down the street, still holding his hat -between his hands. There was something in the figure so dejected, -homeless and forsaken that the minister hesitated a moment as he -stood looking at it. Then he turned to his desk and with a sigh -began the writing where he had left off. - -He had no more interruptions, and when his wife came in two hours -later the sermon was finished, the loose leaves gathered up and -neatly tied together, and laid on his Bible all ready for the Sunday -morning service. - -"A queer thing happened at the kindergarten this morning, Henry," -said his wife while they were eating dinner. "You know I went over -with Mrs, Brown to visit the school, and just after the games, while -the children were at the tables, the door opened and a young man -came in holding a dirty hat in both hands. He sat down near the door -and never said a word; only looked at the children. He was evidently -a tramp, and Miss Wren and her assistant Miss Kyle were a little -frightened at first, but he sat there very quietly and after a few -minutes he went out." - -"Perhaps he was tired and wanted to rest somewhere. The same man -called here, I think. Did you say he looked like a tramp?" - -"Yes, very dusty, shabby and generally tramp-like. Not more than -thirty or thirty-three years old, I should say." - -"The same man," said the Rev. Henry Maxwell thoughtfully. - -"Did you finish your sermon, Henry?" his wife asked after a pause. - -"Yes, all done. It has been a very busy week with me. The two -sermons have cost me a good deal of labor." - -"They will be appreciated by a large audience, Sunday, I hope," -replied his wife smiling. "What are you going to preach about in the -morning?" - -"Following Christ. I take up the Atonement under the head of -sacrifice and example, and then show the steps needed to follow His -sacrifice and example." - -"I am sure it is a good sermon. I hope it won't rain Sunday. We have -had so many stormy Sundays lately." - -"Yes, the audiences have been quite small for some time. People will -not come out to church in a storm." The Rev. Henry Maxwell sighed as -he said it. He was thinking of the careful, laborious effort he had -made in preparing sermons for large audiences that failed to appear. - -But Sunday morning dawned on the town of Raymond one of the perfect -days that sometimes come after long periods of wind and mud and -rain. The air was clear and bracing, the sky was free from all -threatening signs, and every one in Mr. Maxwell's parish prepared to -go to church. When the service opened at eleven o'clock the large -building was filled with an audience of the best-dressed, most -comfortable looking people of Raymond. - -The First Church of Raymond believed in having the best music that -money could buy, and its quartet choir this morning was a source of -great pleasure to the congregation. The anthem was inspiring. All -the music was in keeping with the subject of the sermon. And the -anthem was an elaborate adaptation to the most modern music of the -hymn, - - "Jesus, I my cross have taken, - All to leave and follow Thee." - -Just before the sermon, the soprano sang a solo, the well-known -hymn, - - "Where He leads me I will follow, - I'll go with Him, with Him, all the way." - -Rachel Winslow looked very beautiful that morning as she stood up -behind the screen of carved oak which was significantly marked with -the emblems of the cross and the crown. Her voice was even more -beautiful than her face, and that meant a great deal. There was a -general rustle of expectation over the audience as she rose. Mr. -Maxwell settled himself contentedly behind the pulpit. Rachel -Winslow's singing always helped him. He generally arranged for a -song before the sermon. It made possible a certain inspiration of -feeling that made his delivery more impressive. - -People said to themselves they had never heard such singing even in -the First Church. It is certain that if it had not been a church -service, her solo would have been vigorously applauded. It even -seemed to the minister when she sat down that something like an -attempted clapping of hands or a striking of feet on the floor swept -through the church. He was startled by it. As he rose, however, and -laid his sermon on the Bible, he said to himself he had been -deceived. Of course it could not occur. In a few moments he was -absorbed in his sermon and everything else was forgotten in the -pleasure of his delivery. - -No one had ever accused Henry Maxwell of being a dull preacher. On -the contrary, he had often been charged with being sensational; not -in what he had said so much as in his way of saying it. But the -First Church people liked that. It gave their preacher and their -parish a pleasant distinction that was agreeable. - -It was also true that the pastor of the First Church loved to -preach. He seldom exchanged. He was eager to be in his own pulpit -when Sunday came. There was an exhilarating half hour for him as he -faced a church full of people and know that he had a hearing. He was -peculiarly sensitive to variations in the attendance. He never -preached well before a small audience. The weather also affected him -decidedly. He was at his best before just such an audience as faced -him now, on just such a morning. He felt a glow of satisfaction as -he went on. The church was the first in the city. It had the best -choir. It had a membership composed of the leading people, -representatives of the wealth, society and intelligence of Raymond. -He was going abroad on a three months vacation in the summer, and -the circumstances of his pastorate, his influence and his position -as pastor of the First Church in the city-- - -It is not certain that the Rev. Henry Maxwell knew just how he could -carry on that thought in connection with his sermon, but as he drew -near the end of it he knew that he had at some point in his delivery -had all those feelings. They had entered into the very substance of -his thought; it might have been all in a few seconds of time, but he -had been conscious of defining his position and his emotions as well -as if he had held a soliloquy, and his delivery partook of the -thrill of deep personal satisfaction. - -The sermon was interesting. It was full of striking sentences. They -would have commanded attention printed. Spoken with the passion of a -dramatic utterance that had the good taste never to offend with a -suspicion of ranting or declamation, they were very effective. If -the Rev. Henry Maxwell that morning felt satisfied with the -conditions of his pastorate, the First Church also had a similar -feeling as it congratulated itself on the presence in the pulpit of -this scholarly, refined, somewhat striking face and figure, -preaching with such animation and freedom from all vulgar, noisy or -disagreeable mannerism. - -Suddenly, into the midst of this perfect accord and concord between -preacher and audience, there came a very remarkable interruption. It -would be difficult to indicate the extent of the shock which this -interruption measured. It was so unexpected, so entirely contrary to -any thought of any person present that it offered no room for -argument or, for the time being, of resistance. - -The sermon had come to a close. Mr. Maxwell had just turned the half -of the big Bible over upon his manuscript and was about to sit down -as the quartet prepared to arise to sing the closing selection, - - "All for Jesus, all for Jesus, - All my being's ransomed powers..." - -when the entire congregation was startled by the sound of a man's -voice. It came from the rear of the church, from one of the seats -under the gallery. The next moment the figure of a man came out of -the shadow there and walked down the middle aisle. - -Before the startled congregation fairly realized what was going on -the man had reached the open space in front of the pulpit and had -turned about facing the people. - -"I've been wondering since I came in here"--they were the words he -used under the gallery, and he repeated them--"if it would be just -the thing to say a word at the close of the service. I'm not drunk -and I'm not crazy, and I am perfectly harmless, but if I die, as -there is every likelihood I shall in a few days, I want the -satisfaction of thinking that I said my say in a place like this, -and before this sort of a crowd." - -Henry Maxwell had not taken his seat, and he now remained standing, -leaning on his pulpit, looking down at the stranger. It was the man -who had come to his house the Friday before, the same dusty, worn, -shabby-looking young man. He held his faded hat in his two hands. It -seemed to be a favorite gesture. He had not been shaved and his hair -was rough and tangled. It is doubtful if any one like this had ever -confronted the First Church within the sanctuary. It was tolerably -familiar with this sort of humanity out on the street, around the -railroad shops, wandering up and down the avenue, but it had never -dreamed of such an incident as this so near. - -There was nothing offensive in the man's manner or tone. He was not -excited and he spoke in a low but distinct voice. Mr. Maxwell was -conscious, even as he stood there smitten into dumb astonishment at -the event, that somehow the man's action reminded him of a person he -had once seen walking and talking in his sleep. - -No one in the house made any motion to stop the stranger or in any -way interrupt him. Perhaps the first shock of his sudden appearance -deepened into a genuine perplexity concerning what was best to do. -However that may be, he went on as if he had no thought of -interruption and no thought of the unusual element which he had -introduced into the decorum of the First Church service. And all the -while he was speaking, the minister leaded over the pulpit, his face -growing more white and sad every moment. But he made no movement to -stop him, and the people sat smitten into breathless silence. One -other face, that of Rachel Winslow from the choir, stared white and -intent down at the shabby figure with the faded hat. Her face was -striking at any time. Under the pressure of the present unheard-of -incident it was as personally distinct as if it had been framed in -fire. - -"I'm not an ordinary tramp, though I don't know of any teaching of -Jesus that makes one kind of a tramp less worth saving than another. -Do you?" He put the question as naturally as if the whole -congregation had been a small Bible class. He paused just a moment -and coughed painfully. Then he went on. - -"I lost my job ten months ago. I am a printer by trade. The new -linotype machines are beautiful specimens of invention, but I know -six men who have killed themselves inside of the year just on -account of those machines. Of course I don't blame the newspapers -for getting the machines. Meanwhile, what can a man do? I know I -never learned but the one trade, and that's all I can do. I've -tramped all over the country trying to find something. There are a -good many others like me. I'm not complaining, am I? Just stating -facts. But I was wondering as I sat there under the gallery, if what -you call following Jesus is the same thing as what He taught. What -did He mean when He said: 'Follow Me!'? The minister said,"--here he -turned about and looked up at the pulpit--"that it is necessary for -the disciple of Jesus to follow His steps, and he said the steps are -'obedience, faith, love and imitation.' But I did not hear him tell -you just what he meant that to mean, especially the last step. What -do you Christians mean by following the steps of Jesus? - -"I've tramped through this city for three days trying to find a job; -and in all that time I've not had a word of sympathy or comfort -except from your minister here, who said he was sorry for me and -hoped I would find a job somewhere. I suppose it is because you get -so imposed on by the professional tramp that you have lost your -interest in any other sort. I'm not blaming anybody, am I? Just -stating facts. Of course, I understand you can't all go out of your -way to hunt up jobs for other people like me. I'm not asking you to; -but what I feel puzzled about is, what is meant by following Jesus. -What do you mean when you sing 'I'll go with Him, with Him, all the -way?' Do you mean that you are suffering and denying yourselves and -trying to save lost, suffering humanity just as I understand Jesus -did? What do you mean by it? I see the ragged edge of things a good -deal. I understand there are more than five hundred men in this city -in my case. Most of them have families. My wife died four months -ago. I'm glad she is out of trouble. My little girl is staying with -a printer's family until I find a job. Somehow I get puzzled when I -see so many Christians living in luxury and singing 'Jesus, I my -cross have taken, all to leave and follow Thee,' and remember how my -wife died in a tenement in New York City, gasping for air and asking -God to take the little girl too. Of course I don't expect you people -can prevent every one from dying of starvation, lack of proper -nourishment and tenement air, but what does following Jesus mean? I -understand that Christian people own a good many of the tenements. A -member of a church was the owner of the one where my wife died, and -I have wondered if following Jesus all the way was true in his case. -I heard some people singing at a church prayer meeting the other -night, - - 'All for Jesus, all for Jesus, - All my being's ransomed powers, - All my thoughts, and all my doings, - All my days, and all my hours.' - -and I kept wondering as I sat on the steps outside just what they -meant by it. It seems to me there's an awful lot of trouble in the -world that somehow wouldn't exist if all the people who sing such -songs went and lived them out. I suppose I don't understand. But -what would Jesus do? Is that what you mean by following His steps? -It seems to me sometimes as if the people in the big churches had -good clothes and nice houses to live in, and money to spend for -luxuries, and could go away on summer vacations and all that, while -the people outside the churches, thousands of them, I mean, die in -tenements, and walk the streets for jobs, and never have a piano or -a picture in the house, and grow up in misery and drunkenness and -sin." - -The man suddenly gave a queer lurch over in the direction of the -communion table and laid one grimy hand on it. His hat fell upon the -carpet at his feet. A stir went through the congregation. Dr. West -half rose from his pew, but as yet the silence was unbroken by any -voice or movement worth mentioning in the audience. The man passed -his other hand across his eyes, and then, without any warning, fell -heavily forward on his face, full length up the aisle. Henry Maxwell -spoke: - -"We will consider the service closed." - - - - - - -Chapter Two - - - - - -Henry Maxwell and a group of his church members remained some time -in the study. The man lay on the couch there and breathed heavily. -When the question of what to do with him came up, the minister -insisted on taking the man to his own house; he lived near by and -had an extra room. Rachel Winslow said: - -"Mother has no company at present. I am sure we would be glad to -give him a place with us." - -She looked strongly agitated. No one noticed it particularly. They -were all excited over the strange event, the strangest that First -Church people could remember. But the minister insisted on taking -charge of the man, and when a carriage came the unconscious but -living form was carried to his house; and with the entrance of that -humanity into the minister's spare room a new chapter in Henry -Maxwell's life began, and yet no one, himself least of all, dreamed -of the remarkable change it was destined to make in all his after -definition of the Christian discipleship. - -The event created a great sensation in the First Church parish. -People talked of nothing else for a week. It was the general -impression that the man had wandered into the church in a condition -of mental disturbance caused by his troubles, and that all the time -he was talking he was in a strange delirium of fever and really -ignorant of his surroundings. That was the most charitable -construction to put upon his action. It was the general agreement -also that there was a singular absence of anything bitter or -complaining in what the man had said. He had, throughout, spoken in -a mild, apologetic tone, almost as if he were one of the -congregation seeking for light on a very difficult subject. - -The third day after his removal to the minister's house there was a -marked change in his condition. The doctor spoke of it but offered -no hope. Saturday morning he still lingered, although he had rapidly -failed as the week drew near its close. Sunday morning, just before -the clock struck one, he rallied and asked if his child had come. -The minister had sent for her at once as soon as he had been able to -secure her address from some letters found in the man's pocket. He -had been conscious and able to talk coherently only a few moments -since his attack. - -"The child is coming. She will be here," Mr. Maxwell said as he sat -there, his face showing marks of the strain of the week's vigil; for -he had insisted on sitting up nearly every night. - -"I shall never see her in this world," the man whispered. Then he -uttered with great difficulty the words, "You have been good to me. -Somehow I feel as if it was what Jesus would do." - -After a few minutes he turned his head slightly, and before Mr. -Maxwell could realize the fact, the doctor said quietly, "He is -gone." - -The Sunday morning that dawned on the city of Raymond was exactly -like the Sunday of a week before. Mr. Maxwell entered his pulpit to -face one of the largest congregations that had ever crowded the -First Church. He was haggard and looked as if he had just risen from -a long illness. His wife was at home with the little girl, who had -come on the morning train an hour after her father had died. He lay -in that spare room, his troubles over, and the minister could see -the face as he opened the Bible and arranged his different notices -on the side of the desk as he had been in the habit of doing for ten -years. - -The service that morning contained a new element. No one could -remember when Henry Maxwell had preached in the morning without -notes. As a matter of fact he had done so occasionally when he first -entered the ministry, but for a long time he had carefully written -every word of his morning sermon, and nearly always his evening -discourses as well. It cannot be said that his sermon this morning -was striking or impressive. He talked with considerable hesitation. -It was evident that some great idea struggled in his thought for -utterance, but it was not expressed in the theme he had chosen for -his preaching. It was near the close of his sermon that he began to -gather a certain strength that had been painfully lacking at the -beginning. - -He closed the Bible and, stepping out at the side of the desk, faced -his people and began to talk to them about the remarkable scene of -the week before. - -"Our brother," somehow the words sounded a little strange coming -from his lips, "passed away this morning. I have not yet had time to -learn all his history. He had one sister living in Chicago. I have -written her and have not yet received an answer. His little girl is -with us and will remain for the time." - -He paused and looked over the house. He thought he had never seen so -many earnest faces during his entire pastorate. He was not able yet -to tell his people his experiences, the crisis through which he was -even now moving. But something of his feeling passed from him to -them, and it did not seem to him that he was acting under a careless -impulse at all to go on and break to them this morning something of -the message he bore in his heart. - -So he went on: "The appearance and words of this stranger in the -church last Sunday made a very powerful impression on me. I am not -able to conceal from you or myself the fact that what he said, -followed as it has been by his death in my house, has compelled me -to ask as I never asked before 'What does following Jesus mean?' I -am not in a position yet to utter any condemnation of this people -or, to a certain extent, of myself, either in our Christ-like -relations to this man or the numbers that he represents in the -world. But all that does not prevent me from feeling that much that -the man said was so vitally true that we must face it in an attempt -to answer it or else stand condemned as Christian disciples. A good -deal that was said here last Sunday was in the nature of a challenge -to Christianity as it is seen and felt in our churches. I have felt -this with increasing emphasis every day since. - -"And I do not know that any time is more appropriate than the -present for me to propose a plan, or a purpose, which has been -forming in my mind as a satisfactory reply to much that was said -here last Sunday." - -Again Henry Maxwell paused and looked into the faces of his people. -There were some strong, earnest men and women in the First Church. - -He could see Edward Norman, editor of the Raymond DAILY NEWS. He had -been a member of the First Church for ten years. - -No man was more honored in the community. There was Alexander -Powers, superintendent of the great railroad shops in Raymond, a -typical railroad man, one who had been born into the business. There -sat Donald Marsh, president of Lincoln College, situated in the -suburbs of Raymond. There was Milton Wright, one of the great -merchants of Raymond, having in his employ at least one hundred men -in various shops. There was Dr. West who, although still -comparatively young, was quoted as authority in special surgical -cases. There was young Jasper Chase the author, who had written one -successful book and was said to be at work on a new novel. There was -Miss Virginia Page the heiress, who through the recent death of her -father had inherited a million at least, and was gifted with unusual -attractions of person and intellect. And not least of all, Rachel -Winslow, from her seat in the choir, glowed with her peculiar beauty -of light this morning because she was so intensely interested in the -whole scene. - -There was some reason, perhaps, in view of such material in the -First Church, for Henry Maxwell's feeling of satisfaction whenever -he considered his parish as he had the previous Sunday. There was an -unusually large number of strong, individual characters who claimed -membership there. But as he noted their faces this morning he was -simply wondering how many of them would respond to the strange -proposition he was about to make. He continued slowly, taking time -to choose his words carefully, and giving the people an impression -they had never felt before, even when he was at his best with his -most dramatic delivery. - -"What I am going to propose now is something which ought not to -appear unusual or at all impossible of execution. Yet I am aware -that it will be so regarded by a large number, perhaps, of the -members of this church. But in order that we may have a thorough -understanding of what we are considering, I will put my proposition -very plainly, perhaps bluntly. I want volunteers from the First -Church who will pledge themselves, earnestly and honestly for an -entire year, not to do anything without first asking the question, -'What would Jesus do?' And after asking that question, each one will -follow Jesus as exactly as he knows how, no matter what the result -may be. I will of course include myself in this company of -volunteers, and shall take for granted that my church here will not -be surprised at my future conduct, as based upon this standard of -action, and will not oppose whatever is done if they think Christ -would do it. Have I made my meaning clear? At the close of the -service I want all those members who are willing to join such a -company to remain and we will talk over the details of the plan. Our -motto will be, 'What would Jesus do?' Our aim will be to act just as -He would if He was in our places, regardless of immediate results. -In other words, we propose to follow Jesus' steps as closely and as -literally as we believe He taught His disciples to do. And those who -volunteer to do this will pledge themselves for an entire year, -beginning with today, so to act." - -Henry Maxwell paused again and looked out over his people. It is not -easy to describe the sensation that such a simple proposition -apparently made. Men glanced at one another in astonishment. It was -not like Henry Maxwell to define Christian discipleship in this way. -There was evident confusion of thought over his proposition. It was -understood well enough, but there was, apparently, a great -difference of opinion as to the application of Jesus' teaching and -example. - -He calmly closed the service with a brief prayer. The organist began -his postlude immediately after the benediction and the people began -to go out. There was a great deal of conversation. Animated groups -stood all over the church discussing the minister's proposition. It -was evidently provoking great discussion. After several minutes he -asked all who expected to remain to pass into the lecture-room which -joined the large room on the side. He was himself detained at the -front of the church talking with several persons there, and when he -finally turned around, the church was empty. He walked over to the -lecture-room entrance and went in. He was almost startled to see the -people who were there. He had not made up his mind about any of his -members, but he had hardly expected that so many were ready to enter -into such a literal testing of their Christian discipleship as now -awaited him. There were perhaps fifty present, among them Rachel -Winslow and Virginia Page, Mr. Norman, President Marsh, Alexander -Powers the railroad superintendent, Milton Wright, Dr. West and -Jasper Chase. - -He closed the door of the lecture-room and went and stood before the -little group. His face was pale and his lips trembled with genuine -emotion. It was to him a genuine crisis in his own life and that of -his parish. No man can tell until he is moved by the Divine Spirit -what he may do, or how he may change the current of a lifetime of -fixed habits of thought and speech and action. Henry Maxwell did -not, as we have said, yet know himself all that he was passing -through, but he was conscious of a great upheaval in his definition -of Christian discipleship, and he was moved with a depth of feeling -he could not measure as he looked into the faces of those men and -women on this occasion. - -It seemed to him that the most fitting word to be spoken first was -that of prayer. He asked them all to pray with him. And almost with -the first syllable he uttered there was a distinct presence of the -Spirit felt by them all. As the prayer went on, this presence grew -in power. They all felt it. The room was filled with it as plainly -as if it had been visible. When the prayer closed there was a -silence that lasted several moments. All the heads were bowed. Henry -Maxwell's face was wet with tears. If an audible voice from heaven -had sanctioned their pledge to follow the Master's steps, not one -person present could have felt more certain of the divine blessing. -And so the most serious movement ever started in the First Church of -Raymond was begun. - -"We all understand," said he, speaking very quietly, "what we have -undertaken to do. We pledge ourselves to do everything in our daily -lives after asking the question, 'What would Jesus do?' regardless -of what may be the result to us. Some time I shall be able to tell -you what a marvelous change has come over my life within a week's -time. I cannot now. But the experience I have been through since -last Sunday has left me so dissatisfied with my previous definition -of Christian discipleship that I have been compelled to take this -action. I did not dare begin it alone. I know that I am being led by -the hand of divine love in all this. The same divine impulse must -have led you also. - -"Do we understand fully what we have undertaken?" - -"I want to ask a question," said Rachel Winslow. Every one turned -towards her. Her face glowed with a beauty that no physical -loveliness could ever create. - -"I am a little in doubt as to the source of our knowledge concerning -what Jesus would do. Who is to decide for me just what He would do -in my case? It is a different age. There are many perplexing -questions in our civilization that are not mentioned in the -teachings of Jesus. How am I going to tell what He would do?" - -"There is no way that I know of," replied the pastor, "except as we -study Jesus through the medium of the Holy Spirit. You remember what -Christ said speaking to His disciples about the Holy Spirit: -"Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he shall guide you -into all the truth: for he shall not speak from himself; but what -things soever he shall hear, these shall he speak: and he shall -declare unto you the things that are to come. He shall glorify me; -for he shall take of mine, and shall declare it unto you. All things -whatsoever the Father hath are mine: therefore said I, that he -taketh of mine, and shall declare it unto you.' There is no other -test that I know of. We shall all have to decide what Jesus would do -after going to that source of knowledge." - -"What if others say of us, when we do certain things, that Jesus -would not do so?" asked the superintendent of railroads. - -"We cannot prevent that. But we must be absolutely honest with -ourselves. The standard of Christian action cannot vary in most of -our acts." - -"And yet what one church member thinks Jesus would do, another -refuses to accept as His probable course of action. What is to -render our conduct uniformly Christ-like? Will it be possible to -reach the same conclusions always in all cases?" asked President -Marsh. - -Mr. Maxwell was silent some time. Then he answered, "No; I don't -know that we can expect that. But when it comes to a genuine, -honest, enlightened following of Jesus' steps, I cannot believe -there will be any confusion either in our own minds or in the -judgment of others. We must be free from fanaticism on one hand and -too much caution on the other. If Jesus' example is the example for -the world to follow, it certainly must be feasible to follow it. But -we need to remember this great fact. After we have asked the Spirit -to tell us what Jesus would do and have received an answer to it, we -are to act regardless of the results to ourselves. Is that -understood?" - -All the faces in the room were raised towards the minister in solemn -assent. There was no misunderstanding that proposition. Henry -Maxwell's face quivered again as he noted the president of the -Endeavor Society with several members seated back of the older men -and women. - - - - - - -Chapter Three - - - - - -"He that saith he abideth in Him ought himself also to walk even as -He walked." - -EDWARD NORMAN, editor Of the Raymond DAILY NEWS, sat in his office -room Monday morning and faced a new world of action. He had made his -pledge in good faith to do everything after asking "What would Jesus -do?" and, as he supposed, with his eyes open to all the possible -results. But as the regular life of the paper started on another -week's rush and whirl of activity, he confronted it with a degree of -hesitation and a feeling nearly akin to fear. - -He had come down to the office very early, and for a few minutes was -by himself. He sat at his desk in a growing thoughtfulness that -finally became a desire which he knew was as great as it was -unusual. He had yet to learn, with all the others in that little -company pledged to do the Christlike thing, that the Spirit of Life -was moving in power through his own life as never before. He rose -and shut his door, and then did what he had not done for years. He -kneeled down by his desk and prayed for the Divine Presence and -wisdom to direct him. - -He rose with the day before him, and his promise distinct and clear -in his mind. "Now for action," he seemed to say. But he would be led -by events as fast as they came on. - -He opened his door and began the routine of the office work. The -managing editor had just come in and was at his desk in the -adjoining room. One of the reporters there was pounding out -something on a typewriter. Edward Norman began to write an -editorial. The DAILY NEWS was an evening paper, and Norman usually -completed his leading editorial before nine o'clock. - -He had been writing for fifteen minutes when the managing editor -called out: "Here's this press report of yesterday's prize fight at -the Resort. It will make up three columns and a half. I suppose it -all goes in?" - -Norman was one of those newspaper men who keep an eye on every -detail of the paper. The managing editor always consulted his chief -in matters of both small and large importance. Sometimes, as in this -case, it was merely a nominal inquiry. - -"Yes--No. Let me see it." - -He took the type-written matter just as it came from the telegraph -editor and ran over it carefully. Then he laid the sheets down on -his desk and did some very hard thinking. - -"We won't run this today," he said finally. - -The managing editor was standing in the doorway between the two -rooms. He was astounded at his chief's remark, and thought he had -perhaps misunderstood him. - -"What did you say?" - -"Leave it out. We won't use it." - -"But" The managing editor was simply dumbfounded. He stared at -Norman as if the man was out of his mind. - -"I don't think, Clark, that it ought to be printed, and that's the -end of it," said Norman, looking up from his desk. - -Clark seldom had any words with the chief. His word had always been -law in the office and he had seldom been known to change his mind. -The circumstances now, however, seemed to be so extraordinary that -Clark could not help expressing himself. - -"Do you mean that the paper is to go to press without a word of the -prize fight in it?" - -"Yes. That's what I mean." - -"But it's unheard of. All the other papers will print it. What will -our subscribers say? Why, it is simply--" Clark paused, unable to -find words to say what he thought. - -Norman looked at Clark thoughtfully. The managing editor was a -member of a church of a different denomination from that of -Norman's. The two men had never talked together on religious matters -although they had been associated on the paper for several years. - -"Come in here a minute, Clark, and shut the door," said Norman. - -Clark came in and the two men faced each other alone. Norman did not -speak for a minute. Then he said abruptly: "Clark, if Christ was -editor of a daily paper, do you honestly think He would print three -columns and a half of prize fight in it?" - -"No, I don't suppose He would." - -"Well, that's my only reason for shutting this account out of the -NEWS. I have decided not to do a thing in connection with the paper -for a whole year that I honestly believe Jesus would not do." - -Clark could not have looked more amazed if the chief had suddenly -gone crazy. In fact, he did think something was wrong, though Mr. -Norman was one of the last men in the world, in his judgment, to -lose his mind. - -"What effect will that have on the paper?" he finally managed to ask -in a faint voice. - -"What do you think?" asked Norman with a keen glance. - -"I think it will simply ruin the paper," replied Clark promptly. He -was gathering up his bewildered senses, and began to remonstrate, -"Why, it isn't feasible to run a paper nowadays on any such basis. -It's too ideal. The world isn't ready for it. You can't make it pay. -Just as sure as you live, if you shut out this prize fight report -you will lose hundreds of subscribers. It doesn't take a prophet to -see that. The very best people in town are eager to read it. They -know it has taken place, and when they get the paper this evening -they will expect half a page at least. Surely, you can't afford to -disregard the wishes of the public to such an extent. It will be a -great mistake if you do, in my opinion." - -Norman sat silent a minute. Then he spoke gently but firmly. - -"Clark, what in your honest opinion is the right standard for -determining conduct? Is the only right standard for every one, the -probable action of Jesus Christ? Would you say that the highest, -best law for a man to live by was contained in asking the question, -What would Jesus do?' And then doing it regardless of results? In -other words, do you think men everywhere ought to follow Jesus' -example as closely as they can in their daily lives?" Clark turned -red, and moved uneasily in his chair before he answered the editor's -question. - -"Why--yes--I suppose if you put it on the ground of what men ought -to do there is no other standard of conduct. But the question is, -What is feasible? Is it possible to make it pay? To succeed in the -newspaper business we have got to conform to custom and the -recognized methods of society. We can't do as we would in an ideal -world." - -"Do you mean that we can't run the paper strictly on Christian -principles and make it succeed?" - -"Yes, that's just what I mean. It can't be done. We'll go bankrupt -in thirty days." - -Norman did not reply at once. He was very thoughtful. - -"We shall have occasion to talk this over again, Clark. Meanwhile I -think we ought to understand each other frankly. I have pledged -myself for a year to do everything connected with the paper after -answering the question, What would Jesus do?' as honestly as -possible. I shall continue to do this in the belief that not only -can we succeed but that we can succeed better than we ever did." - -Clark rose. "The report does not go in?" - -"It does not. There is plenty of good material to take its place, -and you know what it is." - -Clark hesitated. "Are you going to say anything about the absence of -the report?" - -"No, let the paper go to press as if there had been no such thing as -a prize fight yesterday." - -Clark walked out of the room to his own desk feeling as if the -bottom had dropped out of everything. He was astonished, bewildered, -excited and considerably angered. His great respect for Norman -checked his rising indignation and disgust, but with it all was a -feeling of growing wonder at the sudden change of motive which had -entered the office of the DAILY NEWS and threatened, as he firmly -believed, to destroy it. - -Before noon every reporter, pressman and employee on the DAILY NEWS -was informed of the remarkable fact that the paper was going to -press without a word in it about the famous prize fight of Sunday. -The reporters were simply astonished beyond measure at the -announcement of the fact. Every one in the stereotyping and -composing rooms had something to say about the unheard of omission. -Two or three times during the day when Mr. Norman had occasion to -visit the composing rooms the men stopped their work or glanced -around their cases looking at him curiously. He knew that he was -being observed, but said nothing and did not appear to note it. - -There had been several minor changes in the paper, suggested by the -editor, but nothing marked. He was waiting and thinking deeply. - -He felt as if he needed time and considerable opportunity for the -exercise of his best judgment in several matters before he answered -his ever present question in the right way. It was not because there -were not a great many things in the life of the paper that were -contrary to the spirit of Christ that he did not act at once, but -because he was yet honestly in doubt concerning what action Jesus -would take. - -When the DAILY NEWS came out that evening it carried to its -subscribers a distinct sensation. - -The presence of the report of the prize fight could not have -produced anything equal to the effect of its omission. Hundreds of -men in the hotels and stores down town, as well as regular -subscribers, eagerly opened the paper and searched it through for -the account of the great fight; not finding it, they rushed to the -NEWS stands and bought other papers. Even the newsboys had not a -understood the fact of omission. One of them was calling out "DAILY -NEWS! Full 'count great prize fight 't Resort. NEWS, sir?" - -A man on the corner of the avenue close by the NEWS office bought -the paper, looked over its front page hurriedly and then angrily -called the boy back. - -"Here, boy! What's the matter with your paper? There's no prize -fight here! What do you mean by selling old papers?" - -"Old papers nuthin'!" replied the boy indignantly. "Dat's today's -paper. What's de matter wid you?" - -"But there is no account of the prize fight here! Look!" - -The man handed back the paper and the boy glanced at k hurriedly. -Then he whistled, while a bewildered look crept over his face. -Seeing another boy running by with papers he called out "Say, Sam, -le'me see your pile." A hasty examination revealed the remarkable -fact that all the copies of the NEWS were silent on the subject of -the prize fight. - -"Here, give me another paper!" shouted the customer; "one with the -prize fight account." - -He received it and walked off, while the two boys remained comparing -notes and lost in wonder at the result. "Sump'n slipped a cog in the -Newsy, sure," said the first boy. But he couldn't tell why, and ran -over to the NEWS office to find out. - -There were several other boys at the delivery room and they were all -excited and disgusted. The amount of slangy remonstrance hurled at -the clerk back of the long counter would have driven any one else to -despair. - -He was used to more or less of it all the time, and consequently -hardened to it. Mr. Norman was just coming downstairs on his way -home, and he paused as he went by the door of the delivery room and -looked in. - -"What's the matter here, George?" he asked the clerk as he noted the -unusual confusion. - -"The boys say they can't sell any copies of the NEWS tonight because -the prize fight isn't in it," replied George, looking curiously at -the editor as so many of the employees had done during the day. Mr. -Norman hesitated a moment, then walked into the room and confronted -the boys. - -"How many papers are there here? Boys, count them out, and I'll buy -them tonight." - -There was a combined stare and a wild counting of papers on the part -of the boys. - -"Give them their money, George, and if any of the other boys come in -with the same complaint buy their unsold copies. Is that fair?" he -asked the boys who were smitten into unusual silence by the unheard -of action on the part of the editor. - -"Fair! Well, I should--But will you keep this up? Will dis be a -continual performance for the benefit of de fraternity?" - -Mr. Norman smiled slightly but he did not think it was necessary to -answer the question. - -He walked out of the office and went home. On the way he could not -avoid that constant query, "Would Jesus have done it?" It was not so -much with reference to this last transaction as to the entire motive -that had urged him on since he had made the promise. - -The newsboys were necessarily sufferers through the action he had -taken. Why should they lose money by it? They were not to blame. He -was a rich man and could afford to put a little brightness into -their lives if he chose to do it. He believed, as he went on his way -home, that Jesus would have done either what he did or something -similar in order to be free from any possible feeling of injustice. - - - - - - -Chapter Four - - - - - -DURING the week he was in receipt of numerous letters commenting on -the absence from the News of the account of the prize fight. Two or -three of these letters may be of interest. - -Editor of the News: - -Dear Sir--I have been thinking for some time of changing my paper. I -want a journal that is up to the times, progressive and -enterprising, supplying the public demand at all points. The recent -freak of your paper in refusing to print the account of the famous -contest at the Resort has decided me finally to change my paper. - -Please discontinue it. - -Very truly yours,------- - -Here followed the name of a business man who had been a subscriber -for many years. - -Edward Norman, - -Editor of the Daily News, Raymond: - -Dear Ed.--What is this sensation you have given the people of your -burg? What new policy have you taken up? Hope you don't intend to -try the "Reform Business" through the avenue of the press. It's -dangerous to experiment much along that line. Take my advice and -stick to the enterprising modern methods you have made so successful -for the News. The public wants prize fights and such. Give it what -it wants, and let some one else do the reforming business. - -Yours,------- - -Here followed the name of one of Norman's old friends, the editor of -a daily in an adjoining town. - -My Dear Mr. Norman: - -I hasten to write you a note of appreciation for the evident -carrying out of your promise. It is a splendid beginning and no one -feels the value of it more than I do. I know something of what it -will cost you, but not all. Your pastor, - -HENRY MAXWELL. - -One other letter which he opened immediately after reading this from -Maxwell revealed to him something of the loss to his business that -possibly awaited him. - -Mr. Edward Norman, - -Editor of the Daily News: - -Dear Sir--At the expiration of my advertising limit, you will do me -the favor not to continue it as you have done heretofore. I enclose -check for payment in full and shall consider my account with your -paper closed after date. - -Very truly yours,------- - -Here followed the name of one of the largest dealers in tobacco in -the city. He had been in the habit of inserting a column of -conspicuous advertising and paying for it a very large price. - -Norman laid this letter down thoughtfully, and then after a moment -he took up a copy of his paper and looked through the advertising -columns. There was no connection implied in the tobacco merchant's -letter between the omission of the prize fight and the withdrawal of -the advertisement, but he could not avoid putting the two together. -In point of fact, he afterward learned that the tobacco dealer -withdrew his advertisement because he had heard that the editor of -the NEWS was about to enter upon some queer reform policy that would -be certain to reduce its subscription list. - -But the letter directed Norman's attention to the advertising phase -of his paper. He had not considered this before. - -As he glanced over the columns he could not escape the conviction -that his Master could not permit some of them in his paper. - -What would He do with that other long advertisement of choice -liquors and cigars? As a member of a church and a respected citizen, -he had incurred no special censure because the saloon men advertised -in his columns. No one thought anything about it. It was all -legitimate business. Why not? Raymond enjoyed a system of high -license, and the saloon and the billiard hall and the beer garden -were a part of the city's Christian civilization. He was simply -doing what every other business man in Raymond did. And it was one -of the best paying sources of revenue. What would the paper do if it -cut these out? Could it live? That was the question. But was that -the question after all? "What would Jesus do?" That was the question -he was answering, or trying to answer, this week. Would Jesus -advertise whiskey and tobacco in his paper? - -Edward Norman asked it honestly, and after a prayer for help and -wisdom he asked Clark to come into the office. - -Clark came in, feeling that the paper was at a crisis, and prepared -for almost anything after his Monday morning experience. This was -Thursday. - -"Clark," said Norman, speaking slowly and carefully, "I have been -looking at our advertising columns and have decided to dispense with -some of the matter as soon as the contracts run out. I wish you -would notify the advertising agent not to solicit or renew the ads -that I have marked here." - -He handed the paper with the marked places over to Clark, who took -it and looked over the columns with a very serious air. - -"This will mean a great loss to the NEWS. How long do you think you -can keep this sort of thing up?" Clark was astounded at the editor's -action and could not understand it. - -"Clark, do you think if Jesus was the editor and proprietor of a -daily paper in Raymond He would permit advertisements of whiskey and -tobacco in it?" - -"Well no--I--don't suppose He would. But what has that to do with -us? We can't do as He would. Newspapers can't be run on any such -basis." - -"Why not?" asked Norman quietly. - -"Why not? Because they will lose more money than they make, that's -all!" Clark spoke out with an irritation that he really felt. "We -shall certainly bankrupt the paper with this sort of business -policy." - -"Do you think so?" Norman asked the question not as if he expected -an answer, but simply as if he were talking with himself. After a -pause he said: - -"You may direct Marks to do as I have said. I believe it is what -Christ would do, and as I told you, Clark, that is what I have -promised to try to do for a year, regardless of what the results may -be to me. I cannot believe that by any kind of reasoning we could -reach a conclusion justifying our Lord in the advertisement, in this -age, of whiskey and tobacco in a newspaper. There are some other -advertisements of a doubtful character I shall study into. -Meanwhile, I feel a conviction in regard to these that cannot be -silenced." - -Clark went back to his desk feeling as if he had been in the -presence of a very peculiar person. He could not grasp the meaning -of it all. He felt enraged and alarmed. He was sure any such policy -would ruin the paper as soon as it became generally known that the -editor was trying to do everything by such an absurd moral standard. -What would become of business if this standard was adopted? It would -upset every custom and introduce endless confusion. It was simply -foolishness. It was downright idiocy. So Clark said to himself, and -when Marks was informed of the action he seconded the managing -editor with some very forcible ejaculations. What was the matter -with the chief? Was he insane? Was he going to bankrupt the whole -business? - -But Edward Norman had not yet faced his most serious problem. When -he came down to the office Friday morning he was confronted with the -usual program for the Sunday morning edition. The NEWS was one one -of the few evening papers in Raymond to issue a Sunday edition, and -it had always been remarkably successful financially. There was an -average of one page of literary and religious items to thirty or -forty pages of sport, theatre, gossip, fashion, society and -political material. This made a very interesting magazine of all -sorts of reading matter, and had always been welcomed by all the -subscribers, church members and all, as a Sunday morning necessity. -Edward Norman now faced this fact and put to himself the question: -"What would Jesus do?" If He was editor of a paper, would he -deliberately plan to put into the homes of all the church people and -Christians of Raymond such a collection of reading matter on the one -day in the week which ought to be given up to something better -holier? He was of course familiar with the regular arguments of the -Sunday paper, that the public needed something of the sort; and the -working man especially, who would not go to church any way, ought to -have something entertaining and instructive on Sunday, his only day -of rest. But suppose the Sunday morning paper did not pay? Suppose -there was no money in it? How eager would the editor or publisher be -then to supply this crying need of the poor workman? Edward Norman -communed honestly with himself over the subject. - -Taking everything into account, would Jesus probably edit a Sunday -morning paper? No matter whether it paid. That was not the question. -As a matter of fact, the Sunday NEWS paid so well that it would be a -direct loss of thousands of dollars to discontinue it. Besides, the -regular subscribers had paid for a seven-day paper. Had he any right -now to give them less than they supposed they had paid for? - -He was honestly perplexed by the question. So much was involved in -the discontinuance of the Sunday edition that for the first time he -almost decided to refuse to be guided by the standard of Jesus' -probable action. He was sole proprietor of the paper; it was his to -shape as he chose. He had no board of directors to consult as to -policy. But as he sat there surrounded by the usual quantity of -material for the Sunday edition he reached some definite -conclusions. And among them was a determination to call in the force -of the paper and frankly state his motive and purpose. He sent word -for Clark and the other men it the office, including the few -reporters who were in the building and the foreman, with what men -were in the composing room (it was early in the morning and they -were not all in) to come into the mailing room. This was a large -room, and the men came in curiously and perched around on the tables -and counters. It was a very unusual proceeding, but they all agreed -that the paper was being run on new principles anyhow, and they all -watched Mr. Norman carefully as he spoke. - -"I called you in here to let you know my further plans for the NEWS. -I propose certain changes which I believe are necessary. I -understand very well that some things I have already done are -regarded by the men as very strange. I wish to state my motive in -doing what I have done." - -Here he told the men what he had already told Clark, and they stared -as Clark had done, and looked as painfully conscious. - -"Now, in acting on this standard of conduct I have reached a -conclusion which will, no doubt, cause some surprise. - -"I have decided that the Sunday morning edition of the NEWS shall be -discontinued after next Sunday's issue. I shall state in that issue -my reasons for discontinuing. In order to make up to the subscribers -the amount of reading matter they may suppose themselves entitled -to, we can issue a double number on Saturday, as is done by many -evening papers that make no attempt at a Sunday edition. I am -convinced that from a Christian point of view more harm than good -has been done by our Sunday morning paper. I do not believe that -Jesus would be responsible for it if He were in my place today. It -will occasion some trouble to arrange the details caused by this -change with the advertisers and subscribers. That is for me to look -after. The change itself is one that will take place. So far as I -can see, the loss will fall on myself. Neither the reporters nor the -pressmen need make any particular changes in their plans." - -He looked around the room and no one spoke. He was struck for the -first time in his life with the fact that in all the years of his -newspaper life he had never had the force of the paper together in -this way. Would Jesus do that? That is, would He probably run a -newspaper on some loving family plan, where editors, reporters, -pressmen and all meet to discuss and devise and plan for the making -of a paper that should have in view-- - -He caught himself drawing almost away from the facts of -typographical unions and office rules and reporters' enterprise and -all the cold, businesslike methods that make a great daily -successful. But still the vague picture that came up in the mailing -room would not fade away when he had gone into his office and the -men had gone back to their places with wonder in their looks and -questions of all sorts on their tongues as they talked over the -editor's remarkable actions. - -Clark came in and had a long, serious talk with his chief. He was -thoroughly roused, and his protest almost reached the point of -resigning his place. Norman guarded himself carefully. Every minute -of the interview was painful to him, but he felt more than ever the -necessity of doing the Christ-like thing. Clark was a very valuable -man. It would be difficult to fill his place. But he was not able to -give any reasons for continuing the Sunday paper that answered the -question, "What would Jesus do?" by letting Jesus print that -edition. - -"It comes to this, then," said Clark frankly, "you will bankrupt the -paper in thirty days. We might as well face that future fact." - -"I don't think we shall. Will you stay by the NEWS until it is -bankrupt?" asked Norman with a strange smile. - -"Mr. Norman, I don't understand you. You are not the same man this -week that I always knew before." - -"I don't know myself either, Clark. Something remarkable has caught -me up and borne me on. But I was never more convinced of final -success and power for the paper. You have not answered my question. -Will you stay with me?" - - - - - - -Chapter Five - - - - - -SUNDAY morning dawned again on Raymond, and Henry Maxwell's church -was again crowded. Before the service began Edward Norman attracted -great attention. He sat quietly in his usual place about three seats -from the pulpit. The Sunday morning issue of the NEWS containing the -statement of its discontinuance had been expressed in such -remarkable language that every reader was struck by it. No such -series of distinct sensations had ever disturbed the usual business -custom of Raymond. The events connected with the NEWS were not all. -People were eagerly talking about strange things done during the -week by Alexander Powers at the railroad shops, and Milton Wright in -his stores on the avenue. The service progressed upon a distinct -wave of excitement in the pews. Henry Maxwell faced it all with a -calmness which indicated a strength and purpose more than usual. His -prayers were very helpful. His sermon was not so easy to describe. -How would a minister be apt to preach to his people if he came -before them after an entire week of eager asking, "How would Jesus -preach? What would He probably say?" It is very certain that he did -not preach as he had done two Sundays before. Tuesday of the past -week he had stood by the grave of the dead stranger and said the -words, "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust," and still he -was moved by the spirit of a deeper impulse than he could measure as -he thought of his people and yearned for the Christ message when he -should be in his pulpit again. - -Now that Sunday had come and the people were there to hear, what -would the Master tell them? He agonized over his preparation for -them, and yet he knew he had not been able to fit his message into -his ideal of the Christ. Nevertheless no one in the First Church -could remember ever hearing such a sermon before. There was in it -rebuke for sin, especially hypocrisy, there was definite rebuke of -the greed of wealth and the selfishness of fashion, two things that -First Church never heard rebuked this way before, and there was a -love of his people that gathered new force as the sermon went on. -When it was finished there were those who were saying in their -hearts, "The Spirit moved that sermon." And they were right. - -Then Rachel Winslow rose to sing, this time after the sermon, by Mr. -Maxwell's request. Rachel's singing did not provoke applause this -time. What deeper feeling carried the people's hearts into a -reverent silence and tenderness of thought? Rachel was beautiful. -But her consciousness of her remarkable loveliness had always marred -her singing with those who had the deepest spiritual feeling. It had -also marred her rendering of certain kinds of music with herself. -Today this was all gone. There was no lack of power in her grand -voice. But there was an actual added element of humility and purity -which the audience distinctly felt and bowed to. - -Before service closed Mr. Maxwell asked those who had remained the -week before to stay again for a few moments of consultation, and any -others who were willing to make the pledge taken at that time. When -he was at liberty he went into the lecture-room. To his astonishment -it was almost filled. This time a large proportion of young people -had come, but among them were a few business men and officers of the -church. - -As before, he, Maxwell, asked them to pray with him. And, as before, -a distinct answer came from the presence of the divine Spirit. There -was no doubt in the minds of any present that what they purposed to -do was so clearly in line with the divine will, that a blessing -rested upon it in a very special manner. - -They remained some time to ask questions and consult together. There -was a feeling of fellowship such as they had never known in their -church membership. Mr. Norman's action was well understood by them -all, and he answered several questions. - -"What will be the probable result of your discontinuance of the -Sunday paper?" asked Alexander Powers, who sat next to him. - -"I don't know yet. I presume it will result in the falling off of -subscriptions and advertisements. I anticipate that." - -"Do you have any doubts about your action. I mean, do you regret it, -or fear it is not what Jesus would do?" asked Mr. Maxwell. - -"Not in the least. But I would like to ask, for my own satisfaction, -if any of you here think Jesus would issue a Sunday morning paper?" - -No one spoke for a minute. Then Jasper Chase said, "We seem to think -alike on that, but I have been puzzled several times during the week -to know just what He would do. It is not always an easy question to -answer." - -"I find that trouble," said Virginia Page. She sat by Rachel -Winslow. Every one who knew Virginia Page was wondering how she -would succeed in keeping her promise. "I think perhaps I find it -specially difficult to answer that question on account of my money. -Our Lord never owned any property, and there is nothing in His -example to guide me in the use of mine. I am studying and praying. I -think I see clearly a part of what He would do, but not all. What -would He do with a million dollars? is my question really. I confess -I am not yet able to answer it to my satisfaction. - -"I could tell you what you could do with a part of it, said Rachel, -turning her face toward Virginia. "That does not trouble me," -replied Virginia with a slight smile. "What I am trying to discover -is a principle that will enable me to come to the nearest possible -to His action as it ought to influence the entire course of my life -so far as my wealth and its use are concerned." - -"That will take time," said the minister slowly. All the rest of the -room were thinking hard of the same thing. Milton Wright told -something of his experience. He was gradually working out a plan for -his business relations with his employees, and it was opening up a -new world to him and to them. A few of the young men told of special -attempts to answer the question. There was almost general consent -over the fact that the application of the Christ spirit and practice -to the everyday life was the serious thing. It required a knowledge -of Him and an insight into His motives that most of them did not yet -possess. - -When they finally adjourned after a silent prayer that marked with -growing power the Divine Presence, they went away discussing -earnestly their difficulties and seeking light from one another. - -Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page went out together. Edward Norman -and Milton Wright became so interested in their mutual conference -that they walked on past Norman's house and came back together. -Jasper Chase and the president of the Endeavor Society stood talking -earnestly in one corner of the room. Alexander Powers and Henry -Maxwell remained, even after the others had gone. - -"I want you to come down to the shops tomorrow and see my plan and -talk to the men. Somehow I feel as if you could get nearer to them -than any one else just now." - -"I don't know about that, but I will come," replied Mr. Maxwell a -little sadly. How was he fitted to stand before two or three hundred -working men and give them a message? Yet in the moment of his -weakness, as he asked the question, he rebuked himself for it. What -would Jesus do? That was an end to the discussion. - -He went down the next day and found Mr. Powers in his office. It -lacked a few minutes of twelve and the superintendent said, "Come -upstairs, and I'll show you what I've been trying to do." - -They went through the machine shop, climbed a long flight of stairs -and entered a very large, empty room. It had once been used by the -company for a store room. - -"Since making that promise a week ago I have had a good many things -to think of," said the superintendent, "and among them is this: The -company gives me the use of this room, and I am going to fit it up -with tables and a coffee plant in the corner there where those steam -pipes are. My plan is to provide a good place where the men can come -up and eat their noon lunch, and give them, two or three times a -week, the privilege of a fifteen minutes' talk on some subject that -will be a real help to them in their lives." - -Maxwell looked surprised and asked if the men would come for any -such purpose. - -"Yes, they'll come. After all, I know the men pretty well. They are -among the most intelligent working men in the country today. But -they are, as a whole, entirely removed from church influence. I -asked, 'What would Jesus do?' and among other things it seemed to me -He would begin to act in some way to add to the lives of these men -more physical and spiritual comfort. It is a very little thing, this -room and what it represents, but I acted on the first impulse, to do -the first thing that appealed to my good sense, and I want to work -out this idea. I want you to speak to the men when they come up at -noon. I have asked them to come up and see the place and I'll tell -them something about it." - -Maxwell was ashamed to say how uneasy he felt at being asked to -speak a few words to a company of working men. How could he speak -without notes, or to such a crowd? He was honestly in a condition of -genuine fright over the prospect. He actually felt afraid of facing -those men. He shrank from the ordeal of confronting such a crowd, so -different from the Sunday audiences he was familiar with. - -There were a dozen rude benches and tables in the room, and when the -noon whistle sounded the men poured upstairs from the machine shops -below and, seating themselves at the tables, began to cat their -lunch. There were present about three hundred of them. They had read -the superintendent's notice which he had posted up in various -places, and came largely out of curiosity. - -They were favorably impressed. The room was large and airy, free -from smoke and dust, and well warmed from the steam pipes. At about -twenty minutes to one Mr. Powers told the men what he had in mind. -He spoke very simply, like one who understands thoroughly the -character of his audience, and then introduced the Rev. Henry -Maxwell of the First Church, his pastor, who had consented to speak -a few minutes. - -Maxwell will never forget the feeling with which for the first time -he stood before the grimy-faced audience of working men. Like -hundreds of other ministers, he had never spoken to any gatherings -except those made up of people of his own class in the sense that -they were familiar in their dress and education and habits. This was -a new world to him, and nothing but his new rule of conduct could -have made possible his message and its effect. He spoke on the -subject of satisfaction with life; what caused it, what its real -sources were. He had the great good sense on this his first -appearance not to recognize the men as a class distinct from -himself. He did not use the term working man, and did not say a word -to suggest any difference between their lives and his own. - -The men were pleased. A good many of them shook hands with him -before going down to their work, and the minister telling it all to -his wife when he reached home, said that never in all his life had -he known the delight he then felt in having the handshake from a man -of physical labor. The day marked an important one in his Christian -experience, more important than he knew. It was the beginning of a -fellowship between him and the working world. It was the first plank -laid down to help bridge the chasm between the church and labor in -Raymond. - -Alexander Powers went back to his desk that afternoon much pleased -with his plan and seeing much help in it for the men. He knew where -he could get some good tables from an abandoned eating house at one -of the stations down the road, and he saw how the coffee arrangement -could be made a very attractive feature. The men had responded even -better than he anticipated, and the whole thing could not help being -a great benefit to them. - -He took up the routine of his work with a glow of satisfaction. -After all, he wanted to do as Jesus would, he said to himself. - -It was nearly four o'clock when he opened one of the company's long -envelopes which he supposed contained orders for the purchasing of -stores. He ran over the first page of typewritten matter in his -usual quick, business-like manner, before he saw that what he was -reading was not intended for his office but for the superintendent -of the freight department. - -He turned over a page mechanically, not meaning to read what was not -addressed to him, but before he knew it, he was in possession of -evidence which conclusively proved that the company was engaged in a -systematic violation of the Interstate Commerce Laws of the United -States. It was as distinct and unequivocal a breaking of law as if a -private citizen should enter a house and rob the inmates. The -discrimination shown in rebates was in total contempt of all the -statutes. Under the laws of the state it was also a distinct -violation of certain provisions recently passed by the legislature -to prevent railroad trusts. There was no question that he had in his -hands evidence sufficient to convict the company of willful, -intelligent violation of the law of the commission and the law of -the state also. - -He dropped the papers on his desk as if they were poison, and -instantly the question flashed across his mind, "What would Jesus -do?" He tried to shut the question out. He tried to reason with -himself by saying it was none of his business. He had known in a -more or less definite way, as did nearly all the officers of the -company, that this had been going on right along on nearly all the -roads. He was not in a position, owing to his place in the shops, to -prove anything direct, and he had regarded it as a matter which did -not concern him at all. The papers now before him revealed the -entire affair. They had through some carelessness been addressed to -him. What business of his was it? If he saw a man entering his -neighbor's house to steal, would it not be his duty to inform the -officers of the law? Was a railroad company such a different thing? -Was it under a different rule of conduct, so that it could rob the -public and defy law and be undisturbed because it was such a great -organization? What would Jesus do? Then there was his family. Of -course, if he took any steps to inform the commission it would mean -the loss of his position. His wife and daughter had always enjoyed -luxury and a good place in society. If he came out against this -lawlessness as a witness it would drag him into courts, his motives -would be misunderstood, and the whole thing would end in his -disgrace and the loss of his position. Surely it was none of his -business. He could easily get the papers back to the freight -department and no one be the wiser. Let the iniquity go on. Let the -law be defied. What was it to him? He would work out his plans for -bettering the condition just before him. What more could a man do in -this railroad business when there was so much going on anyway that -made it impossible to live by the Christian standard? But what would -Jesus do if He knew the facts? That was the question that confronted -Alexander Powers as the day wore into evening. - -The lights in the office had been turned on. The whirr of the great -engine and the clash of the planers in the big shop continued until -six o'clock. Then the whistle blew, the engine slowed up, the men -dropped their tools and ran for the block house. - -Powers heard the familiar click, click, of the clocks as the men -filed past the window of the block house just outside. He said to -his clerks, "I'm not going just yet. I have something extra -tonight." He waited until he heard the last man deposit his block. -The men behind the block case went out. The engineer and his -assistants had work for half an hour but they went out by another -door. - - - - - - -Chapter Six - - - - - -"If any man cometh unto me and hateth not his own father and mother -and wife and children and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own -life also, he cannot be my disciple." - -"And whosoever forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my -disciple." - -WHEN Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page separated after the meeting at -the First Church on Sunday they agreed to continue their -conversation the next day. Virginia asked Rachel to come and lunch -with her at noon, and Rachel accordingly rang the bell at the Page -mansion about half-past eleven. Virginia herself met her and the two -were soon talking earnestly. - -"The fact is," Rachel was saying, after they had been talking a few -moments, "I cannot reconcile it with my judgment of what Christ -would do. I cannot tell another person what to do, but I feel that I -ought not to accept this offer." - -"What will you do then?" asked Virginia with great interest. - -"I don't know yet, but I have decided to refuse this offer." - -Rachel picked up a letter that had been lying in her lap and ran -over its contents again. It was a letter from the manager of a comic -opera offering her a place with a large traveling company of the -season. The salary was a very large figure, and the prospect held -out by the manager was flattering. He had heard Rachel sing that -Sunday morning when the stranger had interrupted the service. He had -been much impressed. There was money in that voice and it ought to -be used in comic opera, so said the letter, and the manager wanted a -reply as soon as possible. - -"There's no great virtue in saying 'No' to this offer when I have -the other one," Rachel went on thoughtfully. "That's harder to -decide. But I've about made up my mind. To tell the, truth, -Virginia, I'm completely convinced in the first case that Jesus -would never use any talent like a good voice just to make money. But -now, take this concert offer. Here is a reputable company, to travel -with an impersonator and a violinist and a male quartet, all people -of good reputation. I'm asked to go as one of the company and sing -leading soprano. The salary--I mentioned it, didn't I?--is -guaranteed to be $200 a month for the season. But I don't feel -satisfied that Jesus would go. What do you think?" - -"You mustn't ask me to decide for you," replied Virginia with a sad -smile. "I believe Mr. Maxwell was right when he said we must each -one of us decide according to the judgment we feel for ourselves to -be Christ-like. I am having a harder time than you are, dear, to -decide what He would do." - -"Are you?" Rachel asked. She rose and walked over to the window and -looked out. Virginia came and stood by her. The street was crowded -with life and the two young women looked at it silently for a -moment. Suddenly Virginia broke out as Rachel had never heard her -before: - -"Rachel, what does all this contrast in conditions mean to you as -you ask this question of what Jesus would do? It maddens me to think -that the society in which I have been brought up, the same to which -we are both said to belong, is satisfied year after year to go on -dressing and eating and having a good time, giving and receiving -entertainments, spending its money on houses and luxuries and, -occasionally, to ease its conscience, donating, without any personal -sacrifice, a little money to charity. I have been educated, as you -have, in one of the most expensive schools in America; launched into -society as an heiress; supposed to be in a very enviable position. -I'm perfectly well; I can travel or stay at home. I can do as I -please. I can gratify almost any want or desire; and yet when I -honestly try to imagine Jesus living the life I have lived and am -expected to live, and doing for the rest of my life what thousands -of other rich people do, I am under condemnation for being one of -the most wicked, selfish, useless creatures in all the world. I have -not looked out of this window for weeks without a feeling of horror -toward myself as I see the humanity that passes by this house." - -Virginia turned away and walked up and down the room. Rachel watched -her and could not repress the rising tide of her own growing -definition of discipleship. Of what Christian use was her own talent -of song? Was the best she could do to sell her talent for so much a -month, go on a concert company's tour, dress beautifully, enjoy the -excitement of public applause and gain a reputation as a great -singer? Was that what Jesus would do? - -She was not morbid. She was in sound health, was conscious of her -great powers as a singer, and knew that if she went out into public -life she could make a great deal of money and become well known. It -is doubtful if she overestimated her ability to accomplish all she -thought herself capable of. And Virginia--what she had just said -smote Rachel with great force because of the similar position in -which the two friends found themselves. - -Lunch was announced and they went out and were joined by Virginia's -grandmother, Madam Page, a handsome, stately woman of sixty-five, -and Virginia's brother Rollin, a young man who spent most of his -time at one of the clubs and had no ambition for anything but a -growing admiration for Rachel Winslow, and whenever she dined or -lunched at the Page's, if he knew of it he always planned to be at -home. - -These three made up the Page family. Virginia's father had been a -banker and grain speculator. Her mother had died ten years before, -her father within the past year. The grandmother, a Southern woman -in birth and training, had all the traditions and feelings that -accompany the possession of wealth and social standing that have -never been disturbed. She was a shrewd, careful business woman of -more than average ability. The family property and wealth were -invested, in large measure, under her personal care. Virginia's -portion was, without any restriction, her own. She had been trained -by her father to understand the ways of the business world, and even -the grandmother had been compelled to acknowledge the girl's -capacity for taking care of her own money. - -Perhaps two persons could not be found anywhere less capable of -understanding a girl like Virginia than Madam Page and Rollin. -Rachel, who had known the family since she was a girl playmate of -Virginia's, could not help thinking of what confronted Virginia in -her own home when she once decided on the course which she honestly -believed Jesus would take. Today at lunch, as she recalled -Virginia's outbreak in the front room, she tried to picture the -scene that would at some time occur between Madam Page and her -granddaughter. - -"I understand that you are going on the stage, Miss Winslow. We -shall all be delighted, I'm sure," said Rollin during the -conversation, which had not been very animated. - -Rachel colored and felt annoyed. "Who told you?" she asked, while -Virginia, who had been very silent and reserved, suddenly roused -herself and appeared ready to join in the talk. - -"Oh! we hear a thing or two on the street. Besides, every one saw -Crandall the manager at church two weeks ago. He doesn't go to -church to hear the preaching. In fact, I know other people who don't -either, not when there's something better to hear." - -Rachel did not color this time, but she answered quietly, "You're -mistaken. I'm not going on the stage." - -"It's a great pity. You'd make a hit. Everybody is talking about -your singing." - -This time Rachel flushed with genuine anger. Before she could say -anything, Virginia broke in: "Whom do you mean by 'everybody?'" - -"Whom? I mean all the people who hear Miss Winslow on Sundays. What -other time do they hear her? It's a great pity, I say, that the -general public outside of Raymond cannot hear her voice." - -"Let us talk about something else," said Rachel a little sharply. -Madam Page glanced at her and spoke with a gentle courtesy. - -"My dear, Rollin never could pay an indirect compliment. He is like -his father in that. But we are all curious to know something of your -plans. We claim the right from old acquaintance, you know; and -Virginia has already told us of your concert company offer." - -"I supposed of course that was public property," said Virginia, -smiling across the table. "I was in the NEWS office day before -yesterday." - -"Yes, yes," replied Rachel hastily. "I understand that, Madam Page. -Well, Virginia and I have been talking about it. I have decided not -to accept, and that is as far as I have gone at present." - -Rachel was conscious of the fact that the conversation had, up to -this point, been narrowing her hesitation concerning the concert -company's offer down to a decision that would absolutely satisfy her -own judgment of Jesus' probable action. It had been the last thing -in the world, however, that she had desired, to have her decision -made in any way so public as this. Somehow what Rollin Page had said -and his manner in saying it had hastened her decision in the matter. - -"Would you mind telling us, Rachel, your reasons for refusing the -offer? It looks like a great opportunity for a young girl like you. -Don't you think the general public ought to hear you? I feel like -Rollin about that. A voice like yours belongs to a larger audience -than Raymond and the First Church." - -Rachel Winslow was naturally a girl of great reserve. She shrank -from making her plans or her thoughts public. But with all her -repression there was possible in her an occasional sudden breaking -out that was simply an impulsive, thoroughly frank, truthful -expression of her most inner personal feeling. She spoke now in -reply to Madam Page in one of those rare moments of unreserve that -added to the attractiveness of her whole character. - -"I have no other reason than a conviction that Jesus Christ would do -the same thing," she said, looking into Madam Page's eyes with a -clear, earnest gaze. - -Madam Page turned red and Rollin stared. Before her grandmother -could say anything, Virginia spoke. Her rising color showed how she -was stirred. Virginia's pale, clear complexion was that of health, -but it was generally in marked contrast with Rachel's tropical type -of beauty. - -"Grandmother, you know we promised to make that the standard of our -conduct for a year. Mr. Maxwell's proposition was plain to all who -heard it. We have not been able to arrive at our decisions very -rapidly. The difficulty in knowing what Jesus would do has perplexed -Rachel and me a good deal." - -Madam Page looked sharply at Virginia before she said anything. - -"Of course I understand Mr. Maxwell's statement. It is perfectly -impracticable to put it into practice. I felt confident at the time -that those who promised would find it out after a trial and abandon -it as visionary and absurd. I have nothing to say about Miss -Winslow's affairs, but," she paused and continued with a sharpness -that was new to Rachel, "I hope you have no foolish notions in this -matter, Virginia." - -"I have a great many notions," replied Virginia quietly. "Whether -they are foolish or not depends upon my right understanding of what -He would do. As soon as I find out I shall do it." - -"Excuse me, ladies," said Rollin, rising from the table. "The -conversation is getting beyond my depth. I shall retire to the -library for a cigar." - -He went out of the dining-room and there was silence for a moment. -Madam Page waited until the servant had brought in something and -then asked her to go out. She was angry and her anger was -formidable, although checked I m some measure by the presence of -Rachel. - -"I am older by several years than you, young ladies," she said, and -her traditional type of bearing seemed to Rachel to rise up like a -great frozen wall between her and every conception of Jesus as a -sacrifice. "What you have promised, in a spirit of false emotion I -presume, is impossible of performance." - -"Do you mean, grandmother, that we cannot possibly act as our Lord -would? or do you mean that, if we try to, we shall offend the -customs and prejudices of society?" asked Virginia. - -"It is not required! It is not necessary! Besides how can you act -with any--" Madam Page paused, broke off her sentence, and then -turned to Rachel. "What will your mother say to your decision? My -dear, is it not foolish? What do you expect to do with your voice -anyway?" - -"I don't know what mother will say yet," Rachel answered, with a -great shrinking from trying to give her mother's probable answer. If -there was a woman in all Raymond with great ambitions for her -daughter's success as a singer, Mrs. Winslow was that woman. - -"Oh! you will see it in a different light after wiser thought of it. -My dear," continued Madam Page rising from the table, "you will live -to regret it if you do not accept the concert company's offer or -something like it." - - - - - - -Chapter Seven - - - - - -RACHEL was glad to escape and be by herself. A plan was slowly -forming in her mind, and she wanted to be alone and think it out -carefully. But before she had walked two blocks she was annoyed to -find Rollin Page walking beside her. - -"Sorry to disturb your thoughts, Miss Winslow, but I happened to be -going your way and had an idea you might not object. In fact, I've -been walking here for a whole block and you haven't objected." - -"I did not see you," said Rachel briefly. - -"I wouldn't mind that if you only thought of me once in a while," -said Rollin suddenly. He took one last nervous puff on his cigar, -tossed it into the street and walked along with a pale look on his -face. - -Rachel was surprised, but not startled. She had known Rollin as a -boy, and there had been a time when they had used each other's first -name familiarly. Lately, however, something in Rachel's manner had -put an end to that. She was used to his direct attempts at -compliments and was sometimes amused by them. Today she honestly -wished him anywhere else. - -"Do you ever think of me, Miss Winslow?" asked Rollin after a pause. - -"Oh, yes, quite often!" said Rachel with a smile. - -"Are you thinking of me now?" - -"Yes. That is--yes--I am." - -"What?" - -"Do you want me to be absolutely truthful?" - -"Of course." - -"Then I was thinking that I wished you were not here." Rollin bit -his lip and looked gloomy. - -"Now look here, Rachel--oh, I know that's forbidden, but I've got to -speak some time!--you know how I feel. What makes you treat me so? -You used to like me a little, you know." - -"Did I? Of course we used to get on very well as boy and girl. But -we are older now." - -Rachel still spoke in the light, easy way she had used since her -first annoyance at seeing him. She was still somewhat preoccupied -with her plan which had been disturbed by Rollin's sudden -appearance. - -They walked along in silence a little way. The avenue was full of -people. Among the persons passing was Jasper Chase. He saw Rachel -and Rollin and bowed as they went by. Rollin was watching Rachel -closely. - -"I wish I was Jasper Chase. Maybe I would stand some chance then," -he said moodily. - -Rachel colored in spite of herself. She did not say anything and -quickened her pace a little. Rollin seemed determined to say -something, and Rachel seemed helpless to prevent him. After all, she -thought, he might as well know the truth one time as another. - -"You know well enough, Rachel, how I feel toward you. Isn't there -any hope? I could make you happy. I've loved you a good many -years--" - -"Why, how old do you think I am?" broke in Rachel with a nervous -laugh. She was shaken out of her usual poise of manner. - -"You know what I mean," went on Rollin doggedly. "And you have no -right to laugh at me just because I want you to marry me." - -"I'm not! But it is useless for you to speak, Rollin," said Rachel -after a little hesitation, and then using his name in such a frank, -simple way that he could attach no meaning to it beyond the -familiarity of the old family acquaintance. "It is impossible." She -was still a little agitated by the fact of receiving a proposal of -marriage on the avenue. But the noise on the street and sidewalk -made the conversation as private as if they were in the house. - -"Would that is--do you think--if you gave me time I would." - -"No!" said Rachel. She spoke firmly; perhaps, she thought afterward, -although she did not mean to, she spoke harshly. - -They walked on for some time without a word. They were nearing -Rachel's home and she was anxious to end the scene. - -As they turned off the avenue into one of the quieter streets Rollin -spoke suddenly and with more manliness than he had yet shown. There -was a distinct note of dignity in his voice that was new to Rachel. - -"Miss Winslow, I ask you to be my wife. Is there any hope for me -that you will ever consent?" - -"None in the least." Rachel spoke decidedly. - -"Will you tell me why?" He asked the question as if he had a right -to a truthful answer. - -"Because I do not feel toward you as a woman ought to feel toward -the man she marries." - -"In other words, you do not love me?" - -"I do not and I cannot." - -"Why?" That was another question, and Rachel was a little surprised -that he should ask it. - -"Because--" she hesitated for fear she might say too much in an -attempt to speak the exact truth. - -"Tell me just why. You can't hurt me more than you have already." - -"Well, I do not and I cannot love you because you have no purpose in -life. What do you ever do to make the world better? You spend your -time in club life, in amusements, in travel, in luxury. What is -there in such a life to attract a woman?" - -"Not much, I guess," said Rollin with a bitter laugh. "Still, I -don't know that I'm any worse than the rest of the men around me. -I'm not so bad as some. I'm glad to know your reasons." - -He suddenly stopped, took off his hat, bowed gravely and turned -back. Rachel went on home and hurried into her room, disturbed in -many ways by the event which had so unexpectedly thrust itself into -her experience. - -When she had time to think it all over she found herself condemned -by the very judgment she had passed on Rollin Page. What purpose had -she in life? She had been abroad and studied music with one of the -famous teachers of Europe. She had come home to Raymond and had been -singing in the First Church choir now for a year. She was well paid. -Up to that Sunday two weeks ago she had been quite satisfied with -herself and with her position. She had shared her mother's ambition, -and anticipated growing triumphs in the musical world. What possible -career was before her except the regular career of every singer? - -She asked the question again and, in the light of her recent reply -to Rollin, asked again, if she had any very great purpose in life -herself. What would Jesus do? There was a fortune in her voice. She -knew it, not necessarily as a matter of personal pride or -professional egotism, but simply as a fact. And she was obliged to -acknowledge that until two weeks ago she had purposed to use her -voice to make money and win admiration and applause. Was that a much -higher purpose, after all, than Rollin Page lived for? - -She sat in her room a long time and finally went downstairs, -resolved to have a frank talk with her mother about the concert -company's offer and the new plan which was gradually shaping in her -mind. She had already had one talk with her mother and knew that she -expected Rachel to accept the offer and enter on a successful career -as a public singer. - -"Mother," Rachel said, coming at once to the point, much as she -dreaded the interview, "I have decided not to go out with the -company. I have a good reason for it." - -Mrs. Winslow was a large, handsome woman, fond of much company, -ambitious for distinction in society and devoted, according to her -definitions of success, to the success of her children. Her youngest -boy, Louis, two years younger than Rachel, was ready to graduate -from a military academy in the summer. Meanwhile she and Rachel were -at home together. Rachel's father, like Virginia's, had died while -the family was abroad. Like Virginia she found herself, under her -present rule of conduct, in complete antagonism with her own -immediate home circle. Mrs. Winslow waited for Rachel to go on. - -"You know the promise I made two weeks ago, mother?" - -"Mr. Maxwell's promise?" - -"No, mine. You know what it was, do you not, mother?" - -"I suppose I do. Of course all the church members mean to imitate -Christ and follow Him, as far as is consistent with our present day -surroundings. But what has that to do with your decision in the -concert company matter?" - -"It has everything to do with it. After asking, 'What would Jesus -do?' and going to the source of authority for wisdom, I have been -obliged to say that I do not believe He would, in my case, make that -use of my voice." - -"Why? Is there anything wrong about such a career?" - -"No, I don't know that I can say there is." - -"Do you presume to sit in judgment on other people who go out to -sing in this way? Do you presume to say they are doing what Christ -would not do?" - -"Mother, I wish you to understand me. I judge no one else; I condemn -no other professional singer. I simply decide my own course. As I -look at it, I have a conviction that Jesus would do something else." - -"What else?" Mrs. Winslow had not yet lost her temper. She did not -understand the situation nor Rachel in the midst of it, but she was -anxious that her daughter's course should be as distinguished as her -natural gifts promised. And she felt confident that when the present -unusual religious excitement in the First Church had passed away -Rachel would go on with her public life according to the wishes of -the family. She was totally unprepared for Rachel's next remark. - -"What? Something that will serve mankind where it most needs the -service of song. Mother, I have made up my mind to use my voice in -some way so as to satisfy my own soul that I am doing something -better than pleasing fashionable audiences, or making money, or even -gratifying my own love of singing. I am going to do something that -will satisfy me when I ask: 'What would Jesus do?' I am not -satisfied, and cannot be, when I think of myself as singing myself -into the career of a concert company performer." - -Rachel spoke with a vigor and earnestness that surprised her mother. -But Mrs. Winslow was angry now; and she never tried to conceal her -feelings. - -"It is simply absurd! Rachel, you are a fanatic! What can you do?" - -"The world has been served by men and women who have given it other -things that were gifts. Why should I, because I am blessed with a -natural gift, at once proceed to put a market price on it and make -all the money I can out of it? You know, mother, that you have -taught me to think of a musical career always in the light of -financial and social success. I have been unable, since I made my -promise two weeks ago, to imagine Jesus joining a concert company to -do what I should do and live the life I should have to live if I -joined it." - -Mrs. Winslow rose and then sat down again. With a great effort she -composed herself. - -"What do you intend to do then? You have not answered my question." - -"I shall continue to sing for the time being in the church. I am -pledged to sing there through the spring. During the week I am going -to sing at the White Cross meetings, down in the Rectangle." - -"What! Rachel Winslow! Do you know what you are saying? Do you know -what sort of people those are down there?" - -Rachel almost quailed before her mother. For a moment she shrank -back and was silent. Then she spoke firmly: "I know very well. That -is the reason I am going. Mr. and Mrs. Gray have been working there -several weeks. I learned only this morning that they want singers -from the churches to help them in their meetings. They use a tent. -It is in a part of the city where Christian work is most needed. I -shall offer them my help. Mother!" Rachel cried out with the first -passionate utterance she had yet used, "I want to do something that -will cost me something in the way of sacrifice. I know you will not -understand me. But I am hungry to suffer for something. What have we -done all our lives for the suffering, sinning side of Raymond? How -much have we denied ourselves or given of our personal ease and -pleasure to bless the place in which we live or imitate the life of -the Savior of the world? Are we always to go on doing as society -selfishly dictates, moving on its little narrow round of pleasures -and entertainments, and never knowing the pain of things that cost?" - -"Are you preaching at me?" asked Mrs. Winslow slowly. Rachel rose, -and understood her mother's words. - -"No. I am preaching at myself," she replied gently. She paused a -moment as if she thought her mother would say something more, and -then went out of the room. When she reached her own room she felt -that so far as her own mother was concerned she could expect no -sympathy, nor even a fair understanding from her. - -She kneeled. It is safe to say that within the two weeks since Henry -Maxwell's church had faced that shabby figure with the faded hat -more members of his parish had been driven to their knees in prayer -than during all the previous term of his pastorate. - -She rose, and her face was wet with tears. She sat thoughtfully a -little while and then wrote a note to Virginia Page. She sent it to -her by a messenger and then went downstairs and told her mother that -she and Virginia were going down to the Rectangle that evening to -see Mr. and Mrs. Gray, the evangelists. - -"Virginia's uncle, Dr. West, will go with us, if she goes. I have -asked her to call him up by telephone and go with us. The Doctor is -a friend of the Grays, and attended some of their meetings last -winter." - -Mrs. Winslow did not say anything. Her manner showed her complete -disapproval of Rachel's course, and Rachel felt her unspoken -bitterness. - -About seven o'clock the Doctor and Virginia appeared, and together -the three started for the scene of the White Cross meetings. - -The Rectangle was the most notorious district in Raymond. It was on -the territory close by the railroad shops and the packing houses. -The great slum and tenement district of Raymond congested its worst -and most wretched elements about the Rectangle. This was a barren -field used in the summer by circus companies and wandering showmen. -It was shut in by rows of saloons, gambling hells and cheap, dirty -boarding and lodging houses. - -The First Church of Raymond had never touched the Rectangle problem. -It was too dirty, too coarse, too sinful, too awful for close -contact. Let us be honest. There had been an attempt to cleanse this -sore spot by sending down an occasional committee of singers or -Sunday-school teachers or gospel visitors from various churches. But -the First Church of Raymond, as an institution, had never really -done anything to make the Rectangle any less a stronghold of the -devil as the years went by. - -Into this heart of the coarse part of the sin of Raymond the -traveling evangelist and his brave little wife had pitched a -good-sized tent and begun meetings. It was the spring of the year -and the evenings were beginning to be pleasant. The evangelists had -asked for the help of Christian people, and had received more than -the usual amount of encouragement. But they felt a great need of -more and better music. During the meetings on the Sunday just gone -the assistant at the organ had been taken ill. The volunteers from -the city were few and the voices were of ordinary quality. - -"There will be a small meeting tonight, John," said his wife, as -they entered the tent a little after seven o'clock and began to -arrange the chairs and light up. - -"Yes, I fear so." Mr. Gray was a small, energetic man, with a -pleasant voice and the courage of a high-born fighter. He had -already made friends in the neighborhood and one of his converts, a -heavy-faced man who had just come in, began to help in the arranging -of seats. - -It was after eight o'clock when Alexander Powers opened the door of -his office and started for home. He was going to take a car at the -corner of the Rectangle. But he was roused by a voice coming from -the tent. - -It was the voice of Rachel Winslow. It struck through his -consciousness of struggle over his own question that had sent him -into the Divine Presence for an answer. He had not yet reached a -conclusion. He was tortured with uncertainty. His whole previous -course of action as a railroad man was the poorest possible -preparation for anything sacrificial. And he could not yet say what -he would do in the matter. - -Hark! What was she singing? How did Rachel Winslow happen to be down -here? Several windows near by went up. Some men quarreling near a -saloon stopped and listened. Other figures were walking rapidly in -the direction of the Rectangle and the tent. Surely Rachel Winslow -had never sung like that in the First Church. It was a marvelous -voice. What was it she was singing? Again Alexander Powers, -Superintendent of the machine shops, paused and listened, - - "Where He leads me I will follow, - Where He leads me I will follow, - Where He leads me I will follow, - I'll go with Him, with Him. - All the way!" - -The brutal, coarse, impure life of the Rectangle stirred itself into -new life as the song, as pure as the surroundings were vile, floated -out and into saloon and den and foul lodging. Some one stumbled -hastily by Alexander Powers and said in answer to a question: "De -tent's beginning to run over tonight. That's what the talent calls -music, eh?" - - - - - - -Chapter Eight - - - - - -"If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up -his cross daily and follow me." - -HENRY MAXWELL paced his study back and forth. It was Wednesday and -he had started to think out the subject of his evening service which -fell upon that night. Out of one of his study windows he could see -the tall chimney of the railroad shops. The top of the evangelist's -tent just showed over the buildings around the Rectangle. He looked -out of his window every time he turned in his walk. After a while he -sat down at his desk and drew a large piece of paper toward him. -After thinking several moments he wrote in large letters the -following: - -A NUMBER OF THINGS THAT JESUS WOULD PROBABLY DO IN THIS PARISH - -Live in a simple, plain manner, without needless luxury on the one -hand or undue asceticism on the other. Preach fearlessly to the -hypocrites in the church, no matter what their social importance or -wealth. Show in some practical form His sympathy and love for the -common people as well as for the well-to-do, educated, refined -people who make up the majority of the parish. Identify Himself with -the great causes of humanity in some personal way that would call -for self-denial and suffering. Preach against the saloon in Raymond. -Become known as a friend and companion of the sinful people in the -Rectangle. Give up the summer trip to Europe this year. (I have been -abroad twice and cannot claim any special need of rest. I am well, -and could forego this pleasure, using the money for some one who -needs a vacation more than I do. There are probably plenty of such -people in the city.) - -He was conscious, with a humility that was once a stranger to him, -that his outline of Jesus' probable action was painfully lacking in -depth and power, but he was seeking carefully for concrete shapes -into which he might cast his thought of Jesus' conduct. Nearly every -point he had put down, meant, for him, a complete overturning of the -custom and habit of years in the ministry. In spite of that, he -still searched deeper for sources of the Christ-like spirit. He did -not attempt to write any more, but sat at his desk absorbed in his -effort to catch more and more the spirit of Jesus in his own life. -He had forgotten the particular subject for his prayer meeting with -which he had begun his morning study. - -He was so absorbed over his thought that he did not hear the bell -ring; he was roused by the servant who announced a caller. He had -sent up his name, Mr. Gray. - -Maxwell stepped to the head of the stairs and asked Gray to come up. -So Gray came up and stated the reason for his call. - -"I want your help, Mr. Maxwell. Of course you have heard what a -wonderful meeting we had Monday night and last night. Miss Winslow -has done more with her voice than I could do, and the tent won't -hold the people." - -"I've heard of that. It is the first time the people there have -heard her. It is no wonder they are attracted." - -"It has been a wonderful revelation to us, and a most encouraging -event in our work. But I came to ask if you could not come down -tonight and preach. I am suffering from a severe cold. I do not dare -trust my voice again. I know it is asking a good deal from such a -busy man. But, if you can't come, say so frankly, and I'll try -somewhere else." - -"I'm sorry, but it's my regular prayer meeting night," began Henry -Maxwell. Then he flushed and added, "I shall be able to arrange it -in some way so as to come down. You can count on me." - -Gray thanked him earnestly and rose to go. - -"Won't you stay a minute, Gray, and let us have a prayer together?" - -"Yes," said Gray simply. - -So the two men kneeled together in the study. Henry Maxwell prayed -like a child. Gray was touched to tears as he knelt there. There was -something almost pitiful in the way this man who had lived his -ministerial life in such a narrow limit of exercise now begged for -wisdom and strength to speak a message to the people in the -Rectangle. - -Gray rose and held out his hand. "God bless you, Mr. Maxwell. I'm -sure the Spirit will give you power tonight." - -Henry Maxwell made no answer. He did not even trust himself to say -that he hoped so. But he thought of his promise and it brought him a -certain peace that was refreshing to his heart and mind alike. - -So that is how it came about that when the First Church audience -came into the lecture room that evening it met with another -surprise. There was an unusually large number present. The prayer -meetings ever since that remarkable Sunday morning had been attended -as never before in the history of the First Church. Mr. Maxwell came -at once to the point. - -"I feel that I am called to go down to the Rectangle tonight, and I -will leave it with you to say whether you will go on with this -meeting here. I think perhaps the best plan would be for a few -volunteers to go down to the Rectangle with me prepared to help in -the after-meeting, if necessary, and the rest to remain here and -pray that the Spirit power may go with us." - -So half a dozen of the men went with the pastor, and the rest of the -audience stayed in the lecture room. Maxwell could not escape the -thought as he left the room that probably in his entire church -membership there might not be found a score of disciples who were -capable of doing work that would successfully lead needy, sinful men -into the knowledge of Christ. The thought did not linger in his mind -to vex him as he went his way, but it was simply a part of his whole -new conception of the meaning of Christian discipleship. - -When he and his little company of volunteers reached the Rectangle, -the tent was already crowded. They had difficulty in getting to the -platform. Rachel was there with Virginia and Jasper Chase who had -come instead of the Doctor tonight. - -When the meeting began with a song in which Rachel sang the solo and -the people were asked to join in the chorus, not a foot of standing -room was left in the tent. The night was mild and the sides of the -tent were up and a great border of faces stretched around, looking -in and forming part of the audience. After the singing, and a prayer -by one of the city pastors who was present, Gray stated the reason -for his inability to speak, and in his simple manner turned the -service over to "Brother Maxwell of the First Church." - -"Who's de bloke?" asked a hoarse voice near the outside of the tent. - -"De Fust Church parson. We've got de whole high-tone swell outfit -tonight." - -"Did you say Fust Church? I know him. My landlord's got a front pew -up there," said another voice, and there was a laugh, for the -speaker was a saloon keeper. - -"Trow out de life line 'cross de dark wave!" began a drunken man -near by, singing in such an unconscious imitation of a local -traveling singer's nasal tone that roars of laughter and jeers of -approval rose around him. The people in the tent turned in the -direction of the disturbance. There were shouts of "Put him out!" -"Give the Fust Church a chance!" "Song! Song! Give us another song!" - -Henry Maxwell stood up, and a great wave of actual terror went over -him. This was not like preaching to the well-dressed, respectable, -good-mannered people up on the boulevard. He began to speak, but the -confusion increased. Gray went down into the crowd, but did not seem -able to quiet it. Maxwell raised his arm and his voice. The crowd in -the tent began to pay some attention, but the noise on the outside -increased. In a few minutes the audience was beyond his control. He -turned to Rachel with a sad smile. - -"Sing something, Miss Winslow. They will listen to you," he said, -and then sat down and covered his face with his hands. - -It was Rachel's opportunity, and she was fully equal to it. Virginia -was at the organ and Rachel asked her to play a few notes of the -hymn. - - "Savior, I follow on, - Guided by Thee, - Seeing not yet the hand - That leadeth me. - Hushed be my heart and still - Fear I no farther ill, - Only to meet Thy will, - My will shall be." - -Rachel had not sung the first line before the people in the tent -were all turned toward her, hushed and reverent. Before she had -finished the verse the Rectangle was subdued and tamed. It lay like -some wild beast at her feet, and she sang it into harmlessness. Ah! -What were the flippant, perfumed, critical audiences in concert -halls compared with this dirty, drunken, impure, besotted mass of -humanity that trembled and wept and grew strangely, sadly thoughtful -under the touch of this divine ministry of this beautiful young -woman! Mr. Maxwell, as he raised his head and saw the transformed -mob, had a glimpse of something that Jesus would probably do with a -voice like Rachel Winslow's. Jasper Chase sat with his eyes on the -singer, and his greatest longing as an ambitious author was -swallowed up in his thought of what Rachel Winslow's love might -sometimes mean to him. And over in the shadow outside stood the last -person any one might have expected to see at a gospel tent -service--Rollin Page, who, jostled on every side by rough men and -women who stared at the swell in fine clothes, seemed careless of -his surroundings and at the same time evidently swayed by the power -that Rachel possessed. He had just come over from the club. Neither -Rachel nor Virginia saw him that night. - -The song was over. Maxwell rose again. This time he felt calmer. -What would Jesus do? He spoke as he thought once he never could -speak. Who were these people? They were immortal souls. What was -Christianity? A calling of sinners, not the righteous, to -repentance. How would Jesus speak? What would He say? He could not -tell all that His message would include, but he felt sure of a part -of it. And in that certainty he spoke on. Never before had he felt -"compassion for the multitude." What had the multitude been to him -during his ten years in the First Church but a vague, dangerous, -dirty, troublesome factor in society, outside of the church and of -his reach, an element that caused him occasionally an unpleasant -twinge of conscience, a factor in Raymond that was talked about at -associations as the "masses," in papers written by the brethren in -attempts to show why the "masses" were not being reached. But -tonight as he faced the masses he asked himself whether, after all, -this was not just about such a multitude as Jesus faced oftenest, -and he felt the genuine emotion of love for a crowd which is one of -the best indications a preacher ever has that he is living close to -the heart of the world's eternal Life. It is easy to love an -individual sinner, especially if he is personally picturesque or -interesting. To love a multitude of sinners is distinctively a -Christ-like quality. - -When the meeting closed, there was no special interest shown. No one -stayed to the after-meeting. The people rapidly melted away from the -tent, and the saloons, which had been experiencing a dull season -while the meetings progressed, again drove a thriving trade. The -Rectangle, as if to make up for lost time, started in with vigor on -its usual night debauch. Maxwell and his little party, including -Virginia, Rachel and Jasper Chase, walked down past the row of -saloons and dens until they reached the corner where the cars -passed. - -"This is a terrible spot," said the minister as he stood waiting for -their car. "I never realized that Raymond had such a festering sore. -It does not seem possible that this is a city full of Christian -disciples." - -"Do you think any one can ever remove this great curse of drink?" -asked Jasper Chase. - -"I have thought lately as never before of what Christian people -might do to remove the curse of the saloon. Why don't we all act -together against it? Why don't the Christian pastors and the church -members of Raymond move as one man against the traffic? What would -Jesus do? Would He keep silent? Would He vote to license these -causes of crime and death?" - -He was talking to himself more than to the others. He remembered -that he had always voted for license, and so had nearly all his -church members. What would Jesus do? Could he answer that question? -Would the Master preach and act against the saloon if He lived -today? How would He preach and act? Suppose it was not popular to -preach against license? Suppose the Christian people thought it was -all that could be done to license the evil and so get revenue from -the necessary sin? Or suppose the church members themselves owned -the property where the saloons stood--what then? He knew that those -were the facts in Raymond. What would Jesus do? - -He went up into his study the next morning with that question only -partly answered. He thought of it all day. He was still thinking of -it and reaching certain real conclusions when the EVENING NEWS came. -His wife brought it up and sat down a few minutes while he read to -her. - -The EVENING NEWS was at present the most sensational paper in -Raymond. That is to say, it was being edited in such a remarkable -fashion that its subscribers had never been so excited over a -newspaper before. First they had noticed the absence of the prize -fight, and gradually it began to dawn upon them that the NEWS no -longer printed accounts of crime with detailed descriptions, or -scandals in private life. Then they noticed that the advertisements -of liquor and tobacco were dropped, together with certain others of -a questionable character. The discontinuance of the Sunday paper -caused the greatest comment of all, and now the character of the -editorials was creating the greatest excitement. A quotation from -the Monday paper of this week will show what Edward Norman was doing -to keep his promise. The editorial was headed: - -THE MORAL SIDE OF POLITICAL QUESTIONS - -The editor of the News has always advocated the principles of the -great political party at present in power, and has heretofore -discussed all political questions from the standpoint of expediency, -or of belief in the party as opposed to other political -organizations. Hereafter, to be perfectly honest with all our -readers, the editor will present and discuss all political questions -from the standpoint of right and wrong. In other words, the first -question asked in this office about any political question will not -be, "Is it in the interests of our party?" or, "Is it according to -the principles laid down by our party in its platform?" but the -question first asked will be, "Is this measure in accordance with -the spirit and teachings of Jesus as the author of the greatest -standard of life known to men?" That is, to be perfectly plain, the -moral side of every political question will be considered its most -important side, and the ground will be distinctly taken that nations -as well as individuals are under the same law to do all things to -the glory of God as the first rule of action. - -The same principle will be observed in this office toward candidates -for places of responsibility and trust in the republic. Regardless -of party politics the editor of the News will do all in his power to -bring the best men into power, and will not knowingly help to -support for office any candidate who is unworthy, no matter how much -he may be endorsed by the party. The first question asked about the -man and about the measures will be, "Is he the right man for the -place?" "Is he a good man with ability?" "Is the measure right?" - -There had been more of this, but we have quoted enough to show the -character of the editorial. Hundreds of men in Raymond had read it -and rubbed their eyes in amazement. A good many of them had promptly -written to the NEWS, telling the editor to stop their paper. The -paper still came out, however, and was eagerly read all over the -city. At the end of a week Edward Norman knew very well that he was -fast losing a large number of subscribers. He faced the conditions -calmly, although Clark, the managing editor, grimly anticipated -ultimate bankruptcy, especially since Monday's editorial. - -Tonight, as Maxwell read to his wife, he could see in almost every -column evidences of Norman's conscientious obedience to his promise. -There was an absence of slangy, sensational scare heads. The reading -matter under the head lines was in perfect keeping with them. He -noticed in two columns that the reporters' name appeared signed at -the bottom. And there was a distinct advance in the dignity and -style of their contributions. - -"So Norman is beginning to get his reporters to sign their work. He -has talked with me about that. It is a good thing. It fixes -responsibility for items where it belongs and raises the standard of -work done. A good thing all around for the public and the writers." - -Maxwell suddenly paused. His wife looked up from some work she was -doing. He was reading something with the utmost interest. "Listen to -this, Mary," he said, after a moment while his lip trembled: - -This morning Alexander Powers, Superintendent of the L. and T. R. R. -shops in this city, handed in his resignation to the road, and gave -as his reason the fact that certain proofs had fallen into his hands -of the violation of the Interstate Commerce Law, and also of the -state law which has recently been framed to prevent and punish -railroad pooling for the benefit of certain favored shippers. Mr. -Powers states in his resignation that he can no longer consistently -withhold the information he possesses against the road. He will be a -witness against it. He has placed his evidence against the company -in the hands of the Commission and it is now for them to take action -upon it. - -The News wishes to express itself on this action of Mr. Powers. In -the first place he has nothing to gain by it. He has lost a very -valuable place voluntarily, when by keeping silent he might have -retained it. In the second place, we believe his action ought to -receive the approval of all thoughtful, honest citizens who believe -in seeing law obeyed and lawbreakers brought to justice. In a case -like this, where evidence against a railroad company is generally -understood to be almost impossible to obtain, it is the general -belief that the officers of the road are often in possession of -criminating facts but do not consider it to be any of their business -to inform the authorities that the law is being defied. The entire -result of this evasion of responsibility on the part of those who -are responsible is demoralizing to every young man connected with -the road. The editor of the News recalls the statement made by a -prominent railroad official in this city a little while ago, that -nearly every clerk in a certain department of the road understood -that large sums of money were made by shrewd violations of the -Interstate Commerce Law, was ready to admire the shrewdness with -which it was done, and declared that they would all do the same -thing if they were high enough in railroad circles to attempt it." - - - - - - -Chapter Nine - - - - - -HENRY MAXWELL finished reading and dropped the paper. - -"I must go and see Powers. This is the result of his promise." - -He rose, and as he was going out, his wife said: "Do you think, -Henry, that Jesus would have done that?" - -Maxwell paused a moment. Then he answered slowly, "Yes, I think He -would. At any rate, Powers has decided so and each one of us who -made the promise understands that he is not deciding Jesus' conduct -for any one else, only for himself." - -"How about his family? How will Mrs. Powers and Celia be likely to -take it?" - -"Very hard, I've no doubt. That will be Powers' cross in this -matter. They will not understand his motive." - -Maxwell went out and walked over to the next block where -Superintendent Powers lived. To his relief, Powers himself came to -the door. - -The two men shook hands silently. They instantly understood each -other without words. There had never before been such a bond of -union between the minister and his parishioner. - -"What are you going to do?" Henry Maxwell asked after they had -talked over the facts in the case. - -"You mean another position? I have no plans yet. I can go back to my -old work as a telegraph operator. My family will not suffer, except -in a social way." - -Powers spoke calmly and sadly. Henry Maxwell did not need to ask him -how the wife and daughter felt. He knew well enough that the -superintendent had suffered deepest at that point. - -"There is one matter I wish you would see to," said Powers after -awhile, "and that is, the work begun at the shops. So far as I know, -the company will not object to that going on. It is one of the -contradictions of the railroad world that Y. M. C. A.'s and other -Christian influences are encouraged by the roads, while all the time -the most un-Christian and lawless acts may be committed in the -official management of the roads themselves. Of course it is well -understood that it pays a railroad to have in its employ men who are -temperate, honest and Christian. So I have no doubt the master -mechanic will have the same courtesy shown him in the use of the -room. But what I want you to do, Mr. Maxwell, is to see that my plan -is carried out. Will you? You understand what it was in general. You -made a very favorable impression on the men. Go down there as often -as you can. Get Milton Wright interested to provide something for -the furnishing and expense of the coffee plant and reading tables. -Will you do it?" - -"Yes," replied Henry Maxwell. He stayed a little longer. Before he -went away, he and the superintendent had a prayer together, and they -parted with that silent hand grasp that seemed to them like a new -token of their Christian discipleship and fellowship. - -The pastor of the First Church went home stirred deeply by the -events of the week. Gradually the truth was growing upon him that -the pledge to do as Jesus would was working out a revolution in his -parish and throughout the city. Every day added to the serious -results of obedience to that pledge. Maxwell did not pretend to see -the end. He was, in fact, only now at the very beginning of events -that were destined to change the history of hundreds of families not -only in Raymond but throughout the entire country. As he thought of -Edward Norman and Rachel and Mr. Powers, and of the results that had -already come from their actions, he could not help a feeling of -intense interest in the probable effect if all the persons in the -First Church who had made the pledge, faithfully kept it. Would they -all keep it, or would some of them turn back when the cross became -too heavy? - -He was asking this question the next morning as he sat in his study -when the President of the Endeavor Society of his church called to -see him. - -"I suppose I ought not to trouble you with my case," said young -Morris coming at once to his errand, "but I thought, Mr. Maxwell, -that you might advise me a little." - -"I'm glad you came. Go on, Fred." He had known the young man ever -since his first year in the pastorate, and loved and honored him for -his consistent, faithful service in the church. - -"Well, the fact is, I am out of a job. You know I've been doing -reporter work on the morning SENTINEL since I graduated last year. -Well, last Saturday Mr. Burr asked me to go down the road Sunday -morning and get the details of that train robbery at the Junction, -and write the thing up for the extra edition that came out Monday -morning, just to get the start of the NEWS. I refused to go, and -Burr gave me my dismissal. He was in a bad temper, or I think -perhaps he would not have done it. He has always treated me well -before. Now, do you think Jesus would have done as I did? I ask -because the other fellows say I was a fool not to do the work. I -want to feel that a Christian acts from motives that may seem -strange to others sometimes, but not foolish. What do you think?" - -"I think you kept your promise, Fred. I cannot believe Jesus would -do newspaper reporting on Sunday as you were asked to do it." - -"Thank you, Mr. Maxwell. I felt a little troubled over it, but the -longer I think it over the better I feel." - -Morris rose to go, and his pastor rose and laid a loving hand on the -young man's shoulder. "What are you going to do, Fred?" - -"I don't know yet. I have thought some of going to Chicago or some -large city ." - -"Why don't you try the NEWS?" - -"They are all supplied. I have not thought of applying there." - -Maxwell thought a moment. "Come down to the NEWS office with me, and -let us see Norman about it." - -So a few minutes later Edward Norman received into his room the -minister and young Morris, and Maxwell briefly told the cause of the -errand. - -"I can give you a place on the NEWS," said Norman with his keen look -softened by a smile that made it winsome. "I want reporters who -won't work Sundays. And what is more, I am making plans for a -special kind of reporting which I believe you can develop because -you are in sympathy with what Jesus would do." - -He assigned Morris a definite task, and Maxwell started back to his -study, feeling that kind of satisfaction (and it is a very deep -kind) which a man feels when he has been even partly instrumental in -finding an unemployed person a remunerative position. - -He had intended to go right to his study, but on his way home he -passed by one of Milton Wright's stores. He thought he would simply -step in and shake hands with his parishioner and bid him God-speed -in what he had heard he was doing to put Christ into his business. -But when he went into the office, Wright insisted on detaining him -to talk over some of his new plans. Maxwell asked himself if this -was the Milton Wright he used to know, eminently practical, -business-like, according to the regular code of the business world, -and viewing every thing first and foremost from the standpoint of, -"Will it pay?" - -"There is no use to disguise the fact, Mr. Maxwell, that I have been -compelled to revolutionize the entire method of my business since I -made that promise. I have been doing a great many things during the -last twenty years in this store that I know Jesus would not do. But -that is a small item compared with the number of things I begin to -believe Jesus would do. My sins of commission have not been as many -as those of omission in business relations." - -"What was the first change you made?" He felt as if his sermon could -wait for him in his study. As the interview with Milton Wright -continued, he was not so sure but that he had found material for a -sermon without going back to his study. - -"I think the first change I had to make was in my thought of my -employees. I came down here Monday morning after that Sunday and -asked myself, 'What would Jesus do in His relation to these clerks, -bookkeepers, office-boys, draymen, salesmen? Would He try to -establish some sort of personal relation to them different from that -which I have sustained all these years?' I soon answered this by -saying, 'Yes.' Then came the question of what that relation would be -and what it would lead me to do. I did not see how I could answer it -to my satisfaction without getting all my employees together and -having a talk with them. So I sent invitations to all of them, and -we had a meeting out there in the warehouse Tuesday night. A good -many things came out of that meeting. I can't tell you all. I tried -to talk with the men as I imagined Jesus might. It was hard work, -for I have not been in the habit of it, and must have made some -mistakes. But I can hardly make you believe, Mr. Maxwell, the effect -of that meeting on some of the men. Before it closed I saw more than -a dozen of them with tears on their faces. I kept asking, 'What -would Jesus do?' and the more I asked it the farther along it pushed -me into the most intimate and loving relations with the men who have -worked for me all these years. Every day something new is coming up -and I am right now in the midst of a reconstruction of the entire -business so far as its motive for being conducted is concerned. I am -so practically ignorant of all plans for co-operation and its -application to business that I am trying to get information from -every possible source. I have lately made a special study of the -life of Titus Salt, the great mill-owner of Bradford, England, who -afterward built that model town on the banks of the Aire. There is a -good deal in his plans that will help me. But I have not yet reached -definite conclusions in regard to all the details. I am not enough -used to Jesus' methods. But see here." - -Wright eagerly reached up into one of the pigeon holes of his desk -and took out a paper. - -"I have sketched out what seems to me like a program such as Jesus -might go by in a business like mine. I want you to tell me what you -think of it: - -"WHAT JESUS WOULD PROBABLY DO IN MILTON WRIGHT'S PLACE AS A BUSINESS -MAN" - -He would engage in the, business first of all for the purpose of -glorifying God, and not for the primary purpose of making money. All -money that might be made he would never regard as his own, but as -trust funds to be used for the good of humanity. His relations with -all the persons in his employ would be the most loving and helpful. -He could not help thinking of all of them in the light of souls to -be saved. This thought would always be greater than his thought of -making money in the business. He would never do a single dishonest -or questionable thing or try in any remotest way to get the -advantage of any one else in the same business. The principle of -unselfishness and helpfulness in the business would direct all its -details. Upon this principle he would shape the entire plan of his -relations to his employees, to the people who were his customers and -to the general business world with which he was connected. - -Henry Maxwell read this over slowly. It reminded him of his own -attempts the day before to put into a concrete form his thought of -Jesus' probable action. He was very thoughtful as he looked up and -met Wright's eager gaze. - -"Do you believe you can continue to make your business pay on these -lines?" - -"I do. Intelligent unselfishness ought to be wiser than intelligent -selfishness, don't you think? If the men who work as employees begin -to feel a personal share in the profits of the business and, more -than that, a personal love for themselves on the part of the firm, -won't the result be more care, less waste, more diligence, more -faithfulness?" - -"Yes, I think so. A good many other business men don't, do they? I -mean as a general thing. How about your relations to the selfish -world that is not trying to make money on Christian principles?" - -"That complicates my action, of course." - -"Does your plan contemplate what is coming to be known as -co-operation?" - -"Yes, as far as I have gone, it does. As I told you, I am studying -out my details carefully. I am absolutely convinced that Jesus in my -place would be absolutely unselfish. He would love all these men in -His employ. He would consider the main purpose of all the business -to be a mutual helpfulness, and would conduct it all so that God's -kingdom would be evidently the first object sought. On those general -principles, as I say, I am working. I must have time to complete the -details." - -When Maxwell finally left he was profoundly impressed with the -revolution that was being wrought already in the business. As he -passed out of the store he caught something of the new spirit of the -place. There was no mistaking the fact that Milton Wright's new -relations to his employees were beginning even so soon, after less -than two weeks, to transform the entire business. This was apparent -in the conduct and faces of the clerks. - -"If he keeps on he will be one of the most influential preachers in -Raymond," said Maxwell to himself when he reached his study. The -question rose as to his continuance in this course when he began to -lose money by it, as was possible. He prayed that the Holy Spirit, -who had shown Himself with growing power in the company of First -Church disciples, might abide long with them all. And with that -prayer on his lips and in his heart he began the preparation of a -sermon in which he was going to present to his people on Sunday the -subject of the saloon in Raymond, as he now believed Jesus would do. -He had never preached against the saloon in this way before. He knew -that the things he should say would lead to serious results. -Nevertheless, he went on with his work, and every sentence he wrote -or shaped was preceded with the question, "Would Jesus say that?" -Once in the course of his study, he went down on his knees. No one -except himself could know what that meant to him. When had he done -that in his preparation of sermons, before the change that had come -into his thought of discipleship? As he viewed his ministry now, he -did not dare preach without praying long for wisdom. He no longer -thought of his dramatic delivery and its effect on his audience. The -great question with him now was, "What would Jesus do?" - -Saturday night at the Rectangle witnessed some of the most -remarkable scenes that Mr. Gray and his wife had ever known. The -meetings had intensified with each night of Rachel's singing. A -stranger passing through the Rectangle in the day-time might have -heard a good deal about the meetings in one way and another. It -cannot be said that up to that Saturday night there was any -appreciable lack of oaths and impurity and heavy drinking. The -Rectangle would not have acknowledged that it was growing any better -or that even the singing had softened its outward manner. It had too -much local pride in being "tough." But in spite of itself there was -a yielding to a power it had never measured and did not know we -enough to resist beforehand. - -Gray had recovered his voice so that by Saturday he was able to -speak. The fact that he was obliged to use his voice carefully made -it necessary for the people to be very quiet if they wanted to hear. -Gradually they had come to understand that this man was talking -these many weeks and giving his time and strength to give them a -knowledge of a Savior, all out of a perfectly unselfish love for -them. Tonight the great crowd was as quiet as Henry Maxwell's -decorous audience ever was. The fringe around the tent was deeper -and the saloons were practically empty. The Holy Spirit had come at -last, and Gray knew that one of the great prayers of his life was -going to be answered. - -And Rachel her singing was the best, most wonderful, that Virginia -or Jasper Chase had ever known. They came together again tonight, -this time with Dr. West, who had spent all his spare time that week -in the Rectangle with some charity cases. Virginia was at the organ, -Jasper sat on a front seat looking up at Rachel, and the Rectangle -swayed as one man towards the platform as she sang: - - "Just as I am, without one plea, - But that Thy blood was shed for me, - And that Thou bidst me come to Thee, - O Lamb of God, I come, I come." - -Gray hardly said a word. He stretched out his hand with a gesture of -invitation. And down the two aisles of the tent, broken, sinful -creatures, men and women, stumbled towards the platform. One woman -out of the street was near the organ. Virginia caught the look of -her face, and for the first time in the life of the rich girl the -thought of what Jesus was to the sinful woman came with a suddenness -and power that was like nothing but a new birth. Virginia left the -organ, went to her, looked into her face and caught her hands in her -own. The other girl trembled, then fell on her knees sobbing, with -her head down upon the back of the rude bench in front of her, still -clinging to Virginia. And Virginia, after a moment's hesitation, -kneeled down by her and the two heads were bowed close together. - -But when the people had crowded in a double row all about the -platform, most of them kneeling and crying, a man in evening dress, -different from the others, pushed through the seats and came and -kneeled down by the side of the drunken man who had disturbed the -meeting when Maxwell spoke. He kneeled within a few feet of Rachel -Winslow, who was still singing softly. And as she turned for a -moment and looked in his direction, she was amazed to see the face -of Rollin Page! For a moment her voice faltered. Then she went on: - - "Just as I am, thou wilt receive, - Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve, - Because Thy promise I believe, - O Lamb of God, I come, I come." - - - - - - -Chapter Ten - - - - - -"If any man serve me, let him follow me." - -IT was nearly midnight before the services at the Rectangle closed. -Gray stayed up long into Sunday morning, praying and talking with a -little group of converts who in the great experiences of their new -life, clung to the evangelist with a personal helplessness that made -it as impossible for him to leave them as if they had been depending -upon him to save them from physical death. Among these converts was -Rollin Page. - -Virginia and her uncle had gone home about eleven o'clock, and -Rachel and Jasper Chase had gone with them as far as the avenue -where Virginia lived. Dr. West had walked on a little way with them -to his own home, and Rachel and Jasper had then gone on together to -her mother's. - -That was a little after eleven. It was now striking midnight, and -Jasper Chase sat in his room staring at the papers on his desk and -going over the last half hour with painful persistence. - -He had told Rachel Winslow of his love for her, and she had not -given him her love in return. It would be difficult to know what was -most powerful in the impulse that had moved him to speak to her -tonight. He had yielded to his feelings without any special thought -of results to himself, because he had felt so certain that Rachel -would respond to his love. He tried to recall the impression she -made on him when he first spoke to her. - -Never had her beauty and her strength influenced him as tonight. -While she was singing he saw and heard no one else. The tent swarmed -with a confused crowd of faces and he knew he was sitting there -hemmed in by a mob of people, but they had no meaning to him. He -felt powerless to avoid speaking to her. He knew he should speak -when they were alone. - -Now that he had spoken, he felt that he had misjudged either Rachel -or the opportunity. He knew, or thought he knew, that she had begun -to care something for him. It was no secret between them that the -heroine of Jasper's first novel had been his own ideal of Rachel, -and the hero in the story was himself and they had loved each other -in the book, and Rachel had not objected. No one else knew. The -names and characters had been drawn with a subtle skill that -revealed to Rachel, when she received a copy of the book from -Jasper, the fact of his love for her, and she had not been offended. -That was nearly a year ago. - -Tonight he recalled the scene between them with every inflection and -movement unerased from his memory. He even recalled the fact that he -began to speak just at that point on the avenue where, a few days -before, he had met Rachel walking with Rollin Page. He had wondered -at the time what Rollin was saying. - -"Rachel," Jasper had said, and it was the first time he had ever -spoken her first name, "I never knew till tonight how much I loved -you. Why should I try to conceal any longer what you have seen me -look? You know I love you as my life. I can no longer hide it from -you if I would." - -The first intimation he had of a repulse was the trembling of -Rachel's arm in his. She had allowed him to speak and had neither -turned her face toward him nor away from him. She had looked -straight on and her voice was sad but firm and quiet when she spoke. - -"Why do you speak to me now? I cannot bear it--after what we have -seen tonight." - -"Why--what--" he had stammered and then was silent. - -Rachel withdrew her arm from his but still walked near him. Then he -had cried out with the anguish of one who begins to see a great loss -facing him where he expected a great joy. - -"Rachel! Do you not love me? Is not my love for you as sacred as -anything in all of life itself?" - -She had walked silent for a few steps after that. They passed a -street lamp. Her face was pale and beautiful. He had made a movement -to clutch her arm and she had moved a little farther from him. - -"No," she had replied. "There was a time I--cannot answer for that -you--should not have spoken to me--now." - -He had seen in these words his answer. He was extremely sensitive. -Nothing short of a joyous response to his own love would ever have -satisfied him. He could not think of pleading with her. - -"Some time--when I am more worthy?" he had asked in a low voice, but -she did not seem to hear, and they had parted at her home, and he -recalled vividly the fact that no good-night had been said. - -Now as he went over the brief but significant scene he lashed -himself for his foolish precipitancy. He had not reckoned on -Rachel's tense, passionate absorption of all her feeling in the -scenes at the tent which were so new in her mind. But he did not -know her well enough even yet to understand the meaning of her -refusal. When the clock in the First Church struck one he was still -sitting at his desk staring at the last page of manuscript of his -unfinished novel. - -Rachel went up to her room and faced her evening's experience with -conflicting emotions. Had she ever loved Jasper Chase? Yes. No. One -moment she felt that her life's happiness was at stake over the -result of her action. Another, she had a strange feeling of relief -that she had spoken as she had. There was one great, overmastering -feeling in her. The response of the wretched creatures in the tent -to her singing, the swift, powerful, awesome presence of the Holy -Spirit had affected her as never in all her life before. The moment -Jasper had spoken her name and she realized that he was telling her -of his love she had felt a sudden revulsion for him, as if he should -have respected the supernatural events they had just witnessed. She -felt as if it was not the time to be absorbed in anything less than -the divine glory of those conversions. The thought that all the time -she was singing, with the one passion of her soul to touch the -conscience of that tent full of sin, Jasper Chase had been unmoved -by it except to love her for herself, gave her a shock as of -irreverence on her part as well as on his. She could not tell why -she felt as she did, only she knew that if he had not told her -tonight she would still have felt the same toward him as she always -had. What was that feeling? What had he been to her? Had she made a -mistake? She went to her book case and took out the novel which -Jasper had given her. Her face deepened in color as she turned to -certain passages which she had read often and which she knew Jasper -had written for her. She read them again. Somehow they failed to -touch her strongly. She closed the book and let it lie on the table. -She gradually felt that her thought was busy with the sights she had -witnessed in the tent. Those faces, men and women, touched for the -first time with the Spirit's glory--what a wonderful thing life was -after all! The complete regeneration revealed in the sight of -drunken, vile, debauched humanity kneeling down to give itself to a -life of purity and Christlikeness--oh, it was surely a witness to -the superhuman in the world! And the face of Rollin Page by the side -of that miserable wreck out of the gutter! She could recall as if -she now saw it, Virginia crying with her arms about her brother just -before she left the tent, and Mr. Gray kneeling close by, and the -girl Virginia had taken into her heart while she whispered something -to her before she went out. All these pictures drawn by the Holy -Spirit in the human tragedies brought to a climax there in the most -abandoned spot in all Raymond, stood out in Rachel's memory now, a -memory so recent that her room seemed for the time being to contain -all the actors and their movements. - -"No! No!" she said aloud. "He had no right to speak after all that! -He should have respected the place where our thoughts should have -been. I am sure I do not love him--not enough to give him my life!" - -And after she had thus spoken, the evening's experience at the tent -came crowding in again, thrusting out all other things. It is -perhaps the most striking evidence of the tremendous spiritual -factor which had now entered the Rectangle that Rachel felt, even -when the great love of a strong man had come very near to her, that -the spiritual manifestation moved her with an agitation far greater -than anything Jasper had felt for her personally or she for him. - -The people of Raymond awoke Sunday morning to a growing knowledge of -events which were beginning to revolutionize many of the regular, -customary habits of the town. Alexander Powers' action in the matter -of the railroad frauds had created a sensation not only in Raymond -but throughout the country. Edward Norman's daily changes of policy -in the conduct of his paper had startled the community and caused -more comment than any recent political event. Rachel Winslow's -singing at the Rectangle meetings had made a stir in society and -excited the wonder of all her friends. - -Virginia's conduct, her presence every night with Rachel, her -absence from the usual circle of her wealthy, fashionable -acquaintances, had furnished a great deal of material for gossip and -question. In addition to these events which centered about these -persons who were so well known, there had been all through the city -in very many homes and in business and social circles strange -happenings. Nearly one hundred persons in Henry Maxwell's church had -made the pledge to do everything after asking: "What would Jesus -do?" and the result had been, in many cases, unheard-of actions. The -city was stirred as it had never been before. As a climax to the -week's events had come the spiritual manifestation at the Rectangle, -and the announcement which came to most people before church time of -the actual conversion at the tent of nearly fifty of the worst -characters in that neighborhood, together with the con version of -Rollin Page, the well-known society and club man. - -It is no wonder that under the pressure of all this the First Church -of Raymond came to the morning service in a condition that made it -quickly sensitive to any large truth. Perhaps nothing had astonished -the people more than the great change that had come over the -minister, since he had proposed to them the imitation of Jesus in -conduct. The dramatic delivery of his sermons no longer impressed -them. The self-satisfied, contented, easy attitude of the fine -figure and refined face in the pulpit had been displaced by a manner -that could not be compared with the old style of his delivery. The -sermon had become a message. It was no longer delivered. It was -brought to them with a love, an earnestness, a passion, a desire, a -humility that poured its enthusiasm about the truth and made the -speaker no more prominent than he had to be as the living voice of -God. His prayers were unlike any the people had heard before. They -were often broken, even once or twice they had been actually -ungrammatical in a phrase or two. When had Henry Maxwell so far -forgotten himself in a prayer as to make a mistake of that sort? He -knew that he had often taken as much pride in the diction and -delivery of his prayers as of his sermons. Was it possible he now so -abhorred the elegant refinement of a formal public petition that he -purposely chose to rebuke himself for his previous precise manner of -prayer? It is more likely that he had no thought of all that. His -great longing to voice the needs and wants of his people made him -unmindful of an occasional mistake. It is certain that he had never -prayed so effectively as he did now. - -There are times when a sermon has a value and power due to -conditions in the audience rather than to anything new or startling -or eloquent in the words said or arguments presented. Such -conditions faced Henry Maxwell this morning as he preached against -the saloon, according to his purpose determined on the week before. -He had no new statements to make about the evil influence of the -saloon in Raymond. What new facts were there? He had no startling -illustrations of the power of the saloon in business or politics. -What could he say that had not been said by temperance orators a -great many times? The effect of his message this morning owed its -power to the unusual fact of his preaching about the saloon at all, -together with the events that had stirred the people. He had never -in the course of his ten years' pastorate mentioned the saloon as -something to be regarded in the light of an enemy, not only to the -poor and tempted, but to the business life of the place and the -church itself. He spoke now with a freedom that seemed to measure -his complete sense of conviction that Jesus would speak so. At the -close he pleaded with the people to remember the new life that had -begun at the Rectangle. The regular election of city officers was -near at hand. The question of license would be an issue in the -election. What of the poor creatures surrounded by the hell of drink -while just beginning to feel the joy of deliverance from sin? Who -could tell what depended on their environment? Was there one word to -be said by the Christian disciple, business man, citizen, in favor -of continuing the license to crime and shame-producing institutions? -Was not the most Christian thing they could do to act as citizens in -the matter, fight the saloon at the polls, elect good men to the -city offices, and clean the municipality? How much had prayers -helped to make Raymond better while votes and actions had really -been on the side of the enemies of Jesus? Would not Jesus do this? -What disciple could imagine Him refusing to suffer or to take up His -cross in this matter? How much had the members of the First Church -ever suffered in an attempt to imitate Jesus? Was Christian -discipleship a thing of conscience simply, of custom, of tradition? -Where did the suffering come in? Was it necessary in order to follow -Jesus' steps to go up Calvary as well as the Mount of -Transfiguration? - -His appeal was stronger at this point than he knew. It is not too -much to say that the spiritual tension of the people reached its -highest point right there. The imitation of Jesus which had begun -with the volunteers in the church was working like leaven in the -organization, and Henry Maxwell would even thus early in his life -have been amazed if he could have measured the extent of desire on -the part of his people to take up the cross. While he was speaking -this morning, before he closed with a loving appeal to the -discipleship of two thousand years' knowledge of the Master, many a -man and woman in the church was saying as Rachel had said so -passionately to her mother: "I want to do something that will cost -me something in the way of sacrifice." "I am hungry to suffer -something." Truly, Mazzini was right when he said that no appeal is -quite so powerful in the end as the call: "Come and suffer." - -The service was over, the great audience had gone, and Maxwell again -faced the company gathered in the lecture room as on the two -previous Sundays. He had asked all to remain who had made the pledge -of discipleship, and any others who wished to be included. The after -service seemed now to be a necessity. As he went in and faced the -people there his heart trembled. There were at least one hundred -present. The Holy Spirit was never before so manifest. He missed -Jasper Chase. But all the others were present. He asked Milton -Wright to pray. The very air was charged with divine possibilities. -What could resist such a baptism of power? How had they lived all -these years without it? - - - - - - -Chapter Eleven - - - - - -DONALD MARSH, President of Lincoln College, walked home with Mr. -Maxwell. - -"I have reached one conclusion, Maxwell," said Marsh, speaking -slowly. "I have found my cross and it is a heavy one, but I shall -never be satisfied until I take it up and carry it." Maxwell was -silent and the President went on. - -"Your sermon today made clear to me what I have long been feeling I -ought to do. 'What would Jesus do in my place?' I have asked the -question repeatedly since I made my promise. I have tried to satisfy -myself that He would simply go on as I have done, attending to the -duties of my college work, teaching the classes in Ethics and -Philosophy. But I have not been able to avoid the feeling that He -would do something more. That something is what I do not want to do. -It will cause me genuine suffering to do it. I dread it with all my -soul. You may be able to guess what it is." - -"Yes, I think I know. It is my cross too. I would almost rather do -any thing else." - -Donald Marsh looked surprised, then relieved. Then he spoke sadly -but with great conviction: "Maxwell, you and I belong to a class of -professional men who have always avoided the duties of citizenship. -We have lived in a little world of literature and scholarly -seclusion, doing work we have enjoyed and shrinking from the -disagreeable duties that belong to the life of the citizen. I -confess with shame that I have purposely avoided the responsibility -that I owe to this city personally. I understand that our city -officials are a corrupt, unprincipled set of men, controlled in -large part by the whiskey element and thoroughly selfish so far as -the affairs of city government are concerned. Yet all these years I, -with nearly every teacher in the college, have been satisfied to let -other men run the municipality and have lived in a little world of -my own, out of touch and sympathy with the real world of the people. -'What would Jesus do?' I have even tried to avoid an honest answer. -I can no longer do so. My plain duty is to take a personal part in -this coming election, go to the primaries, throw the weight of my -influence, whatever it is, toward the nomination and election of -good men, and plunge into the very depths of the entire horrible -whirlpool of deceit, bribery, political trickery and saloonism as it -exists in Raymond today. I would sooner walk up to the mouth of a -cannon any time than do this. I dread it because I hate the touch of -the whole matter. I would give almost any thing to be able to say, -'I do not believe Jesus would do anything of the sort.' But I am -more and more persuaded that He would. This is where the suffering -comes for me. It would not hurt me half so much to lose my position -or my home. I loathe the contact with this municipal problem. I -would so much prefer to remain quietly in my scholastic life with my -classes in Ethics and Philosophy. But the call has come to me so -plainly that I cannot escape. 'Donald Marsh, follow me. Do your duty -as a citizen of Raymond at the point where your citizenship will -cost you something. Help to cleanse this municipal stable, even if -you do have to soil your aristocratic feelings a little.' Maxwell, -this is my cross, I must take it up or deny my Lord." - -"You have spoken for me also," replied Maxwell with a sad smile. -"Why should I, simply because I am a minister, shelter myself behind -my refined, sensitive feelings, and like a coward refuse to touch, -except in a sermon possibly, the duty of citizenship? I am unused to -the ways of the political life of the city. I have never taken an -active part in any nomination of good men. There are hundreds of -ministers like me. As a class we do not practice in the municipal -life the duties and privileges we preach from the pulpit. 'What -would Jesus do?' I am now at a point where, like you, I am driven to -answer the question one way. My duty is plain. I must suffer. All my -parish work, all my little trials or self-sacrifices are as nothing -to me compared with the breaking into my scholarly, intellectual, -self-contained habits, of this open, coarse, public fight for a -clean city life. I could go and live at the Rectangle the rest of my -life and work in the slums for a bare living, and I could enjoy it -more than the thought of plunging into a fight for the reform of -this whiskey-ridden city. It would cost me less. But, like you, I -have been unable to shake off my responsibility. The answer to the -question 'What would Jesus do?' in this case leaves me no peace -except when I say, Jesus would have me act the part of a Christian -citizen. Marsh, as you say, we professional men, ministers, -professors, artists, literary men, scholars, have almost invariably -been political cowards. We have avoided the sacred duties of -citizenship either ignorantly or selfishly. Certainly Jesus in our -age would not do that. We can do no less than take up this cross, -and follow Him." - -The two men walked on in silence for a while. Finally President -Marsh said: "We do not need to act alone in this matter. With all -the men who have made the promise we certainly can have -companionship, and strength even, of numbers. Let us organize the -Christian forces of Raymond for the battle against rum and -corruption. We certainly ought to enter the primaries with a force -that will be able to do more than enter a protest. It is a fact that -the saloon element is cowardly and easily frightened in spite of its -lawlessness and corruption. Let us plan a campaign that will mean -something because it is organized righteousness. Jesus would use -great wisdom in this matter. He would employ means. He would make -large plans. Let us do so. If we bear this cross let us do it -bravely, like men." - -They talked over the matter a long time and met again the next day -in Maxwell's study to develop plans. The city primaries were called -for Friday. Rumors of strange and unknown events to the average -citizen were current that week in political circles throughout -Raymond. The Crawford system of balloting for nominations was not in -use in the state, and the primary was called for a public meeting at -the court house. - -The citizens of Raymond will never forget that meeting. It was so -unlike any political meeting ever held in Raymond before, that there -was no attempt at comparison. The special officers to be nominated -were mayor, city council, chief of police, city clerk and city -treasurer. - -The evening NEWS in its Saturday edition gave a full account of the -primaries, and in the editorial columns Edward Norman spoke with a -directness and conviction that the Christian people of Raymond were -learning to respect deeply, because it was so evidently sincere and -unselfish. A part of that editorial is also a part of this history. -We quote the following: - -"It is safe to say that never before in the history of Raymond was -there a primary like the one in the court house last night. It was, -first of all, a complete surprise to the city politicians who have -been in the habit of carrying on the affairs of the city as if they -owned them, and every one else was simply a tool or a cipher. The -overwhelming surprise of the wire pullers last night consisted in -the fact that a large number of the citizens of Raymond who have -heretofore taken no part in the city's affairs, entered the primary -and controlled it, nominating some of the best men for all the -offices to be filled at the coming election. - -"It was a tremendous lesson in good citizenship. President Marsh of -Lincoln College, who never before entered a city primary, and whose -face was not even known to the ward politicians, made one of the -best speeches ever made in Raymond. It was almost ludicrous to see -the faces of the men who for years have done as they pleased, when -President Marsh rose to speak. Many of them asked, 'Who is he?' The -consternation deepened as the primary proceeded and it became -evident that the oldtime ring of city rulers was outnumbered. Rev. -Henry Maxwell of the First Church, Milton Wright, Alexander Powers, -Professors Brown, Willard and Park of Lincoln College, Dr. West, -Rev. George Main of the Pilgrim Church, Dean Ward of the Holy -Trinity, and scores of well-known business men and professional men, -most of them church members, were present, and it did not take long -to see that they had all come with the one direct and definite -purpose of nominating the best men possible. Most of those men had -never before been seen in a primary. They were complete strangers to -the politicians. But they had evidently profited by the politician's -methods and were able by organized and united effort to nominate the -entire ticket. - -"As soon as it became plain that the primary was out of their -control the regular ring withdrew in disgust and nominated another -ticket. The NEWS simply calls the attention of all decent citizens -to the fact that this last ticket contains the names of whiskey men, -and the line is sharply and distinctly drawn between the saloon and -corrupt management such as we have known for years, and a clean, -honest, capable, business-like city administration, such as every -good citizen ought to want. It is not necessary to remind the people -of Raymond that the question of local option comes up at the -election. That will be the most important question on the ticket. -The crisis of our city affairs has been reached. The issue is -squarely before us. Shall we continue the rule of rum and boodle and -shameless incompetency, or shall we, as President Marsh said in his -noble speech, rise as good citizens and begin a new order of things, -cleansing our city of the worst enemy known to municipal honesty, -and doing what lies in our power to do with the ballot to purify our -civic life? - -"The NEWS is positively and without reservation on the side of the -new movement. We shall henceforth do all in our power to drive out -the saloon and destroy its political strength. We shall advocate the -election of the men nominated by the majority of citizens met in the -first primary and we call upon all Christians, church members, -lovers of right, purity, temperance, and the home, to stand by -President Marsh and the rest of the citizens who have thus begun a -long-needed reform in our city." - -President Marsh read this editorial and thanked God for Edward -Norman. At the same time he understood well enough that every other -paper in Raymond was on the other side. He did not underestimate the -importance and seriousness of the fight which was only just begun. -It was no secret that the NEWS had lost enormously since it had been -governed by the standard of "What would Jesus do?" And the question -was, Would the Christian people of Raymond stand by it? Would they -make it possible for Norman to conduct a daily Christian paper? Or -would the desire for what is called news in the way of crime, -scandal, political partisanship of the regular sort, and a dislike -to champion so remarkable a reform in journalism, influence them to -drop the paper and refuse to give it their financial support? That -was, in fact, the question Edward Norman was asking even while he -wrote that Saturday editorial. He knew well enough that his actions -expressed in that editorial would cost him very heavily from the -hands of many business men in Raymond. And still, as he drove his -pen over the paper, he asked another question, "What would Jesus -do?" That question had become a part of this whole life now. It was -greater than any other. - -But for the first time in its history Raymond had seen the -professional men, the teachers, the college professors, the doctors, -the ministers, take political action and put themselves definitely -and sharply in public antagonism to the evil forces that had so long -controlled the machine of municipal government. The fact itself was -astounding. President Marsh acknowledged to himself with a feeling -of humiliation, that never before had he known what civic -righteousness could accomplish. From that Friday night's work he -dated for himself and his college a new definition of the worn -phrase "the scholar in politics." Education for him and those who -were under his influence ever after meant some element of suffering. -Sacrifice must now enter into the factor of development. - -At the Rectangle that week the tide of spiritual life rose high, and -as yet showed no signs of flowing back. Rachel and Virginia went -every night. Virginia was rapidly reaching a conclusion with respect -to a large part of her money. She had talked it over with Rachel and -they had been able to agree that if Jesus had a vast amount of money -at His disposal He might do with some of it as Virginia planned. At -any rate they felt that whatever He might do in such case would have -as large an element of variety in it as the differences in persons -and circumstances. There could be no one fixed Christian way of -using money. The rule that regulated its use was unselfish utility. - -But meanwhile the glory of the Spirit's power possessed all their -best thought. Night after night that week witnessed miracles as -great as walking on the sea or feeding the multitude with a few -loaves and fishes. For what greater miracle is there than a -regenerate humanity? The transformation of these coarse, brutal, -sottish lives into praying, rapturous lovers of Christ, struck -Rachel and Virginia every time with the feeling that people may have -had when they saw Lazarus walk out of the tomb. It was an experience -full of profound excitement for them. - -Rollin Page came to all the meetings. There was no doubt of the -change that had come over him. Rachel had not yet spoken much with -him. He was wonderfully quiet. It seemed as if he was thinking all -the time. Certainly he was not the same person. He talked more with -Gray than with any one else. He did not avoid Rachel, but he seemed -to shrink from any appearance of seeming to renew the acquaintance -with her. Rachel found it even difficult to express to him her -pleasure at the new life he had begun to know. He seemed to be -waiting to adjust himself to his previous relations before this new -life began. He had not forgotten those relations. But he was not yet -able to fit his consciousness into new ones. - -The end of the week found the Rectangle struggling hard between two -mighty opposing forces. The Holy Spirit was battling with all His -supernatural strength against the saloon devil which had so long -held a jealous grasp on its slaves. If the Christian people of -Raymond once could realize what the contest meant to the souls newly -awakened to a purer life it did not seem possible that the election -could result in the old system of license. But that remained yet to -be seen. The horror of the daily surroundings of many of the -converts was slowly burning its way into the knowledge of Virginia -and Rachel, and every night as they went uptown to their luxurious -homes they carried heavy hearts. - -"A good many of these poor creatures will go back again," Gray would -say with sadness too deep for tears. "The environment does have a -good deal to do with the character. It does not stand to reason that -these people can always resist the sight and smell of the devilish -drink about them. O Lord, how long shall Christian people continue -to support by their silence and their ballots the greatest form of -slavery known in America?" - -He asked the question, and did not have much hope of an immediate -answer. There was a ray of hope in the action of Friday night's -primary, but what the result would be he did not dare to anticipate. -The whiskey forces were organized, alert, aggressive, roused into -unusual hatred by the events of the last week at the tent and in the -city. Would the Christian forces act as a unit against the saloon? -Or would they be divided on account of their business interests or -because they were not in the habit of acting all together as the -whiskey power always did? That remained to be seen. Meanwhile the -saloon reared itself about the Rectangle like some deadly viper -hissing and coiling, ready to strike its poison into any unguarded -part. - -Saturday afternoon as Virginia was just stepping out of her house to -go and see Rachel to talk over her new plans, a carriage drove up -containing three of her fashionable friends. Virginia went out to -the drive-way and stood there talking with them. They had not come -to make a formal call but wanted Virginia to go driving with them up -on the boulevard. There was a band concert in the park. The day was -too pleasant to be spent indoors. - -"Where have you been all this time, Virginia?" asked one of the -girls, tapping her playfully on the shoulder with a red silk -parasol. "We hear that you have gone into the show business. Tell us -about it." - -Virginia colored, but after a moment's hesitation she frankly told -something of her experience at the Rectangle. The girls in the -carriage began to be really interested. - -"I tell you, girls, let's go 'slumming' with Virginia this afternoon -instead of going to the band concert. I've never been down to the -Rectangle. I've heard it's an awful wicked place and lots to see. -Virginia will act as guide, and it would be"--"real fun" she was -going to say, but Virginia's look made her substitute the word -"interesting." - -Virginia was angry. At first thought she said to herself she would -never go under such circumstances. The other girls seemed to be of -the same mind with the speaker. They chimed in with earnestness and -asked Virginia to take them down there. - -Suddenly she saw in the idle curiosity of the girls an opportunity. -They had never seen the sin and misery of Raymond. Why should they -not see it, even if their motive in going down there was simply to -pass away an afternoon. - - - - - - -Chapter Twelve - - - - - -"For I come to set a man at variance against his father, and the -daughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her -mother-in-law; and a man's foes shall be they of his own household." - -"Be ye therefore imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in -love, even as Christ also loved you." - -"HADN'T we better take a policeman along?" said one of the girls -with a nervous laugh. "It really isn't safe down there, you know." - -"There's no danger," said Virginia briefly. - -"Is it true that your brother Rollin has been converted?" asked the -first speaker, looking at Virginia curiously. It impressed her -during the drive to the Rectangle that all three of her friends were -regarding her with close attention as if she were peculiar. - -"Yes, he certainly is." - -"I understand he is going around to the clubs talking with his old -friends there, trying to preach to them. Doesn't that seem funny?" -said the girl with the red silk parasol. - -Virginia did not answer, and the other girls were beginning to feel -sober as the carriage turned into a street leading to the Rectangle. -As they neared the district they grew more and more nervous. The -sights and smells and sounds which had become familiar to Virginia -struck the senses of these refined, delicate society girls as -something horrible. As they entered farther into the district, the -Rectangle seemed to stare as with one great, bleary, beer-soaked -countenance at this fine carriage with its load of fashionably -dressed young women. "Slumming" had never been a fad with Raymond -society, and this was perhaps the first time that the two had come -together in this way. The girls felt that instead of seeing the -Rectangle they were being made the objects of curiosity. They were -frightened and disgusted. - -"Let's go back. I've seen enough," said the girl who was sitting -with Virginia. - -They were at that moment just opposite a notorious saloon and -gambling house. The street was narrow and the sidewalk crowded. -Suddenly, out of the door of this saloon a young woman reeled. She -was singing in a broken, drunken sob that seemed to indicate that -she partly realized her awful condition, "Just as I am, without one -plea"--and as the carriage rolled past she leered at it, raising her -face so that Virginia saw it very close to her own. It was the face -of the girl who had kneeled sobbing, that night with Virginia -kneeling beside her and praying for her. - -"Stop!" cried Virginia, motioning to the driver who was looking -around. The carriage stopped, and in a moment she was out and had -gone up to the girl and taken her by the arm. "Loreen!" she said, -and that was all. The girl looked into her face, and her own changed -into a look of utter horror. The girls in the carriage were smitten -into helpless astonishment. The saloon-keeper had come to the door -of the saloon and was standing there looking on with his hands on -his hips. And the Rectangle from its windows, its saloon steps, its -filthy sidewalk, gutter and roadway, paused, and with undisguised -wonder stared at the two girls. Over the scene the warm sun of -spring poured its mellow light. A faint breath of music from the -band-stand in the park floated into the Rectangle. The concert had -begun, and the fashion and wealth of Raymond were displaying -themselves up town on the boulevard. - -When Virginia left the carriage and went up to Loreen she had no -definite idea as to what she would do or what the result of her -action would be. She simply saw a soul that had tasted of the joy of -a better life slipping back again into its old hell of shame and -death. And before she had touched the drunken girl's arm she had -asked only one question, "What would Jesus do?" That question was -becoming with her, as with many others, a habit of life. - -She looked around now as she stood close by Loreen, and the whole -scene was cruelly vivid to her. She thought first of the girls in -the carriage. - -"Drive on; don't wait for me. I am going to see my friend home," she -said calmly enough. - -The girl with the red parasol seemed to gasp at the word "friend," -when Virginia spoke it. She did not say anything. - -The other girls seemed speechless. - -"Go on. I cannot go back with you," said Virginia. The driver -started the horses slowly. One of the girls leaned a little out of -the carriage. - -"Can't we--that is--do you want our help? Couldn't you--" - -"No, no!" exclaimed Virginia. "You cannot be of any help to me." - -The carriage moved on and Virginia was alone with her charge. She -looked up and around. Many faces in the crowd were sympathetic. They -were not all cruel or brutal. The Holy Spirit had softened a good -deal of the Rectangle. - -"Where does she live?" asked Virginia. - -No one answered. It occurred to Virginia afterward when she had time -to think it over, that the Rectangle showed a delicacy in its sad -silence that would have done credit to the boulevard. For the first -time it flashed across her that the immortal being who was flung -like wreckage upon the shore of this early hell called the saloon, -had no place that could be called home. The girl suddenly wrenched -her arm from Virginia's grasp. In doing so she nearly threw Virginia -down. - -"You shall not touch me! Leave me! Let me go to hell! That's where I -belong! The devil is waiting for me. See him!" she exclaimed -hoarsely. She turned and pointed with a shaking finger at the -saloon-keeper. The crowd laughed. Virginia stepped up to her and put -her arm about her. - -"Loreen," she said firmly, "come with me. You do not belong to hell. -You belong to Jesus and He will save you. Come." - -The girl suddenly burst into tears. She was only partly sobered by -the shock of meeting Virginia. - -Virginia looked around again. "Where does Mr. Gray live?" she asked. -She knew that the evangelist boarded somewhere near the tent. A -number of voices gave the direction. - -"Come, Loreen, I want you to go with me to Mr. Gray's," she said, -still keeping her hold of the swaying, trembling creature who moaned -and sobbed and now clung to her as firmly as before she had repulsed -her. - -So the two moved on through the Rectangle toward the evangelist's -lodging place. The sight seemed to impress the Rectangle seriously. -It never took itself seriously when it was drunk, but this was -different. The fact that one of the richest, most -beautifully-dressed girls in all Raymond was taking care of one of -the Rectangle's most noted characters, who reeled along under the -influence of liquor, was a fact astounding enough to throw more or -less dignity and importance about Loreen herself. The event of -Loreen's stumbling through the gutter dead-drunk always made the -Rectangle laugh and jest. But Loreen staggering along with a young -lady from the society circles uptown supporting her, was another -thing. The Rectangle viewed it with soberness and more or less -wondering admiration. - -When they finally reached Mr. Gray's lodging place the woman who -answered Virginia's knock said that both Mr. and Mrs. Gray were out -somewhere and would not be back until six o'clock. - -Virginia had not planned anything farther than a possible appeal to -the Grays, either to take charge of Loreen for a while or find some -safe place for her until she was sober. She stood now at the door -after the woman had spoken, and she was really at a loss to know -what to do. Loreen sank down stupidly on the steps and buried her -face in her arms. Virginia eyed the miserable figure of the girl -with a feeling that she was afraid would grow into disgust. - -Finally a thought possessed her that she could not escape. What was -to hinder her from taking Loreen home with her? Why should not this -homeless, wretched creature, reeking with the fumes of liquor, be -cared for in Virginia's own home instead of being consigned to -strangers in some hospital or house of charity? Virginia really knew -very little about any such places of refuge. As a matter of fact, -there were two or three such institutions in Raymond, but it is -doubtful if any of them would have taken a person like Loreen in her -present condition. But that was not the question with Virginia just -now. "What would Jesus do with Loreen?" That was what Virginia -faced, and she finally answered it by touching the girl again. - -"Loreen, come. You are going home with me. We will take the car here -at the corner." - -Loreen staggered to her feet and, to Virginia's surprise, made no -trouble. She had expected resistance or a stubborn refusal to move. -When they reached the corner and took the car it was nearly full of -people going uptown. Virginia was painfully conscious of the stare -that greeted her and her companion as they entered. But her thought -was directed more and more to the approaching scene with her -grandmother. What would Madam Page say? - -Loreen was nearly sober now. But she was lapsing into a state of -stupor. Virginia was obliged to hold fast to her arm. Several times -the girl lurched heavily against her, and as the two went up the -avenue a curious crowd of so-called civilized people turned and -gazed at them. When she mounted the steps of her handsome house -Virginia breathed a sigh of relief, even in the face of the -interview with the grandmother, and when the door shut and she was -in the wide hall with her homeless outcast, she felt equal to -anything that might now come. - -Madam Page was in the library. Hearing Virginia come in, she came -into the hall. Virginia stood there supporting Loreen, who stared -stupidly at the rich magnificence of the furnishings around her. - -"Grandmother," Virginia spoke without hesitation and very clearly, -"I have brought one of my friends from the Rectangle. She is in -trouble and has no home. I am going to care for her here a little -while." - -Madam Page glanced from her granddaughter to Loreen in astonishment. - -"Did you say she is one of your friends?" she asked in a cold, -sneering voice that hurt Virginia more than anything she had yet -felt. - -"Yes, I said so." Virginia's face flushed, but she seemed to recall -a verse that Mr. Gray had used for one of his recent sermons, "A -friend of publicans and sinners." Surely, Jesus would do this that -she was doing. - -"Do you know what this girl is?" asked Madam Page, in an angry -whisper, stepping near Virginia. - -"I know very well. She is an outcast. You need not tell me, -grandmother. I know it even better than you do. She is drunk at this -minute. But she is also a child of God. I have seen her on her -knees, repentant. And I have seen hell reach out its horrible -fingers after her again. And by the grace of Christ I feel that the -least that I can do is to rescue her from such peril. Grandmother, -we call ourselves Christians. Here is a poor, lost human creature -without a home, slipping back into a life of misery and possibly -eternal loss, and we have more than enough. I have brought her here, -and I shall keep her." - -Madam Page glared at Virginia and clenched her hands. All this was -contrary to her social code of conduct. How could society excuse -familiarity with the scum of the streets? What would Virginia's -action cost the family in the way of criticism and loss of standing, -and all that long list of necessary relations which people of wealth -and position must sustain to the leaders of society? To Madam Page -society represented more than the church or any other institution. -It was a power to be feared and obeyed. The loss of its good-will -was a loss more to be dreaded than anything except the loss of -wealth itself. - -She stood erect and stern and confronted Virginia, fully roused and -determined. Virginia placed her arm about Loreen and calmly looked -her grandmother in the face. - -"You shall not do this, Virginia! You can send her to the asylum for -helpless women. We can pay all the expenses. We cannot afford for -the sake of our reputations to shelter such a person." - -"Grandmother, I do not wish to do anything that is displeasing to -you, but I must keep Loreen here tonight, and longer if it seems -best." - -"Then you can answer for the consequences! I do not stay in the same -house with a miserable--" Madam Page lost her self-control. Virginia -stopped her before she could speak the next word. - -"Grandmother, this house is mine. It is your home with me as long as -you choose to remain. But in this matter I must act as I fully -believe Jesus would in my place. I am willing to bear all that -society may say or do. Society is not my God. By the side of this -poor soul I do not count the verdict of society as of any value." - -"I shall not stay here, then!" said Madam Page. She turned suddenly -and walked to the end of the hall. She then came back, and going up -to Virginia said, with an emphasis that revealed her intensive -excitement of passion: "You can always remember that you have driven -your grandmother out of your house in favor of a drunken woman;" -then, without waiting for Virginia to reply, she turned again and -went upstairs. Virginia called a servant and soon had Loreen cared -for. She was fast lapsing into a wretched condition. During the -brief scene in the hall she had clung to Virginia so hard that her -arm was sore from the clutch of the girl's fingers. - - - - - - -Chapter Thirteen - - - - - -WHEN the bell rang for tea she went down and her grandmother did not -appear. She sent a servant to her room who brought back word that -Madam Page was not there. A few minutes later Rollin came in. He -brought word that his grandmother had taken the evening train for -the South. He had been at the station to see some friends off, and -had by chance met his grandmother as he was coming out. She had told -him her reason for going. - -Virginia and Rollin comforted each other at the tea table, looking -at each other with earnest, sad faces. - -"Rollin," said Virginia, and for the first time, almost, since his -conversion she realized what a wonderful thing her brother's changed -life meant to her, "do you blame me? Am I wrong?" - -"No, dear, I cannot believe you are. This is very painful for us. -But if you think this poor creature owes her safety and salvation to -your personal care, it was the only thing for you to do. O Virginia, -to think that we have all these years enjoyed our beautiful home and -all these luxuries selfishly, forgetful of the multitudes like this -woman! Surely Jesus in our places would do what you have done." - -And so Rollin comforted Virginia and counseled with her that -evening. And of all the wonderful changes that she henceforth was to -know on account of her great pledge, nothing affected her so -powerfully as the thought of Rollin's change of life. Truly, this -man in Christ was a new creature. Old things were passed away. -Behold, all things in him had become new. - -Dr. West came that evening at Virginia's summons and did everything -necessary for the outcast. She had drunk herself almost into -delirium. The best that could be done for her now was quiet nursing -and careful watching and personal love. So, in a beautiful room, -with a picture of Christ walking by the sea hanging on the wall, -where her bewildered eyes caught daily something more of its hidden -meaning, Loreen lay, tossed she hardly knew how into this haven, and -Virginia crept nearer the Master than she had ever been, as her -heart went out towards this wreck which had thus been flung torn and -beaten at her feet. - -Meanwhile the Rectangle awaited the issue of the election with more -than usual interest; and Mr. Gray and his wife wept over the poor, -pitiful creatures who, after a struggle with surroundings that daily -tempted them, too often wearied of the struggle and, like Loreen, -threw up their arms and went whirling over the cataract into the -boiling abyss of their previous condition. - -The after-meeting at the First Church was now eagerly established. -Henry Maxwell went into the lecture-room on the Sunday succeeding -the week of the primary, and was greeted with an enthusiasm that -made him tremble at first for its reality. He noted again the -absence of Jasper Chase, but all the others were present, and they -seemed drawn very close together by a bond of common fellowship that -demanded and enjoyed mutual confidences. It was the general feeling -that the spirit of Jesus was the spirit of very open, frank -confession of experience. It seemed the most natural thing in the -world, therefore, for Edward Norman to be telling all the rest of -the company about the details of his newspaper. - -"The fact is, I have lost a great deal of money during the last -three weeks. I cannot tell just how much. I am losing a great many -subscribers every day." - -"What do the subscribers give as their reason for dropping the -paper?" asked Mr. Maxwell. All the rest were listening eagerly. - -"There are a good many different reasons. Some say they want a paper -that prints all the news; meaning, by that, the crime details, -sensations like prize fights, scandals and horrors of various kinds. -Others object to the discontinuance of the Sunday edition. I have -lost hundreds of subscribers by that action, although I have made -satisfactory arrangements with many of the old subscribers by giving -them even more in the extra Saturday edition than they formerly had -in the Sunday issue. My greatest loss has come from a falling off in -advertisements, and from the attitude I have felt obliged to take on -political questions. The last action has really cost me more than -any other. The bulk of my subscribers are intensely partisan. I may -as well tell you all frankly that if I continue to pursue the plan -which I honestly believe Jesus would pursue in the matter of -political issues and their treatment from a non-partisan and moral -standpoint, the NEWS will not be able to pay its operating expenses -unless one factor in Raymond can be depended on." - -He paused a moment and the room was very quiet. Virginia seemed -specially interested. Her face glowed with interest. It was like the -interest of a person who had been thinking hard of the same thing -which Norman went on to mention. - -"That one factor is the Christian element in Raymond. Say the NEWS -has lost heavily from the dropping off of people who do not care for -a Christian daily, and from others who simply look upon a newspaper -as a purveyor of all sorts of material to amuse or interest them, -are there enough genuine Christian people in Raymond who will rally -to the support of a paper such as Jesus would probably edit? or are -the habits of the church people so firmly established in their -demand for the regular type of journalism that they will not take a -paper unless it is stripped largely of the Christian and moral -purpose? I may say in this fellowship gathering that owing to recent -complications in my business affairs outside of my paper I have been -obliged to lose a large part of my fortune. I had to apply the same -rule of Jesus' probable conduct to certain transactions with other -men who did not apply it to their conduct, and the result has been -the loss of a great deal of money. As I understand the promise we -made, we were not to ask any question about 'Will it pay?' but all -our action was to be based on the one question, 'What would Jesus -do?' Acting on that rule of conduct, I have been obliged to lose -nearly all the money I have accumulated in my paper. It is not -necessary for me to go into details. There is no question with me -now, after the three weeks' experience I have had, that a great many -men would lose vast sums of money under the present system of -business if this rule of Jesus was honestly applied. I mention my -loss here because I have the fullest faith in the final success of a -daily paper conducted on the lines I have recently laid down, and I -had planned to put into it my entire fortune in order to win final -success. As it is now, unless, as I said, the Christian people of -Raymond, the church members and professing disciples, will support -the paper with subscriptions and advertisements, I cannot continue -its publication on the present basis." - -Virginia asked a question. She had followed Mr. Norman's confession -with the most intense eagerness. - -"Do you mean that a Christian daily ought to be endowed with a large -sum like a Christian college in order to make it pay?" - -"That is exactly what I mean. I had laid out plans for putting into -the NEWS such a variety of material in such a strong and truly -interesting way that it would more than make up for whatever was -absent from its columns in the way of un-Christian matter. But my -plans called for a very large output of money. I am very confident -that a Christian daily such as Jesus would approve, containing only -what He would print, can be made to succeed financially if it is -planned on the right lines. But it will take a large sum of money to -work out the plans." - -"How much, do you think?" asked Virginia quietly. - -Edward Norman looked at her keenly, and his face flushed a moment as -an idea of her purpose crossed his mind. He had known her when she -was a little girl in the Sunday-school, and he had been on intimate -business relations with her father. - -"I should say half a million dollars in a town like Raymond could be -well spent in the establishment of a paper such as we have in mind," -he answered. His voice trembled a little. The keen look on his -grizzled face flashed out with a stern but thoroughly Christian -anticipation of great achievements in the world of newspaper life, -as it had opened up to him within the last few seconds. - -"Then," said Virginia, speaking as if the thought was fully -considered, "I am ready to put that amount of money into the paper -on the one condition, of course, that it be carried on as it has -been begun." - -"Thank God!" exclaimed Mr. Maxwell softly. Norman was pale. The rest -were looking at Virginia. She had more to say. - -"Dear friends," she went on, and there was a sadness in her voice -that made an impression on the rest that deepened when they thought -it over afterwards, "I do not want any of you to credit me with an -act of great generosity. I have come to know lately that the money -which I have called my own is not mine, but God's. If I, as steward -of His, see some wise way to invest His money, it is not an occasion -for vainglory or thanks from any one simply because I have proved in -my administration of the funds He has asked me to use for His glory. -I have been thinking of this very plan for some time. The fact is, -dear friends, that in our coming fight with the whiskey power in -Raymond--and it has only just begun--we shall need the NEWS to -champion the Christian side. You all know that all the other papers -are for the saloon. As long as the saloon exists, the work of -rescuing dying souls at the Rectangle is carried on at a terrible -disadvantage. What can Mr. Gray do with his gospel meetings when -half his converts are drinking people, daily tempted and enticed by -the saloon on every corner? It would be giving up to the enemy to -allow the NEWS to fail. I have great confidence in Mr. Norman's -ability. I have not seen his plans, but I have the same confidence -that he has in making the paper succeed if it is carried forward on -a large enough scale. I cannot believe that Christian intelligence -in journalism will be inferior to un-Christian intelligence, even -when it comes to making the paper pay financially. So that is my -reason for putting this money--God's, not mine--into this powerful -agent for doing as Jesus would do. If we can keep such a paper going -for one year, I shall be willing to see that amount of money used in -that experiment. Do not thank me. Do not consider my doing it a -wonderful thing. What have I done with God's money all these years -but gratify my own selfish personal desires? What can I do with the -rest of it but try to make some reparation for what I have stolen -from God? That is the way I look at it now. I believe it is what -Jesus would do." - -Over the lecture-room swept that unseen yet distinctly felt wave of -Divine Presence. No one spoke for a while. Mr. Maxwell standing -there, where the faces lifted their intense gaze into his, felt what -he had already felt--a strange setting back out of the nineteenth -century into the first, when the disciples had all things in common, -and a spirit of fellowship must have flowed freely between them such -as the First Church of Raymond had never before known. How much had -his church membership known of this fellowship in daily interests -before this little company had begun to do as they believed Jesus -would do? It was with difficulty that he thought of his present age -and surroundings. The same thought was present with all the rest, -also. There was an unspoken comradeship such as they had never -known. It was present with them while Virginia was speaking, and -during the silence that followed. If it had been defined by any of -them it would perhaps have taken some such shape as this: "If I -shall, in the course of my obedience to my promise, meet with loss -or trouble in the world, I can depend upon the genuine, practical -sympathy and fellowship of any other Christian in this room who has, -with me, made the pledge to do all things by the rule, 'What would -Jesus do?'" - -All this, the distinct wave of spiritual power emphasized. It had -the effect that a physical miracle may have had on the early -disciples in giving them a feeling of confidence in the Lord that -helped them to face loss and martyrdom with courage and even joy. - -Before they went away this time there were several confidences like -those of Edward Norman's. Some of the young men told of loss of -places owing to their honest obedience to their promise. Alexander -Powers spoke briefly of the fact that the Commission had promised to -take action on his evidence at the earliest date possible. - - - - - - -Chapter Fourteen - - - - - -BUT more than any other feeling at this meeting rose the tide of -fellowship for one another. Maxwell watched it, trembling for its -climax which he knew was not yet reached. When it was, where would -it lead them? He did not know, but he was not unduly alarmed about -it. Only he watched with growing wonder the results of that simple -promise as it was being obeyed in these various lives. Those results -were already being felt all over the city. Who could measure their -influence at the end of a year? - -One practical form of this fellowship showed itself in the -assurances which Edward Norman received of support for his paper. -There was a general flocking toward him when the meeting closed, and -the response to his appeal for help from the Christian disciples in -Raymond was fully understood by this little company. The value of -such a paper in the homes and in behalf of good citizenship, -especially at the present crisis in the city, could not be measured. -It remained to be seen what could be done now that the paper was -endowed so liberally. But it still was true, as Norman insisted, -that money alone could not make the paper a power. It must receive -the support and sympathy of the Christians in Raymond before it -could be counted as one of the great forces of the city. - -The week that followed this Sunday meeting was one of great -excitement in Raymond. It was the week of the election. President -Marsh, true to his promise, took up his cross and bore it manfully, -but with shuddering, with groans and even tears, for his deepest -conviction was touched, and he tore himself out of the scholarly -seclusion of years with a pain and anguish that cost him more than -anything he had ever done as a follower of Christ. With him were a -few of the college professors who had made the pledge in the First -Church. Their experience and suffering were the same as his; for -their isolation from all the duties of citizenship had been the -same. The same was also true of Henry Maxwell, who plunged into the -horror of this fight against whiskey and its allies with a sickening -dread of each day's new encounter with it. For never before had he -borne such a cross. He staggered under it, and in the brief -intervals when he came in from the work and sought the quiet of his -study for rest, the sweat broke out on his forehead, and he felt the -actual terror of one who marches into unseen, unknown horrors. -Looking back on it afterwards he was amazed at his experience. He -was not a coward, but he felt the dread that any man of his habits -feels when confronted suddenly with a duty which carries with it the -doing of certain things so unfamiliar that the actual details -connected with it betray his ignorance and fill him with the shame -of humiliation. - -When Saturday, the election day, came, the excitement rose to its -height. An attempt was made to close all the saloons. It was only -partly successful. There was a great deal of drinking going on all -day. The Rectangle boiled and heaved and cursed and turned its worst -side out to the gaze of the city. Gray had continued his meetings -during the week, and the results had been even greater than he had -dared to hope. When Saturday came, it seemed to him that the crisis -in his work had been reached. The Holy Spirit and the Satan of rum -seemed to rouse up to a desperate conflict. The more interest in the -meetings, the more ferocity and vileness outside. The saloon men no -longer concealed their feelings. Open threats of violence were made. -Once during the week Gray and his little company of helpers were -assailed with missiles of various kinds as they left the tent late -at night. The police sent down a special force, and Virginia and -Rachel were always under the protection of either Rollin or Dr. -West. Rachel's power in song had not diminished. Rather, with each -night, it seemed to add to the intensity and reality of the Spirit's -presence. - -Gray had at first hesitated about having a meeting that night. But -he had a simple rule of action, and was always guided by it. The -Spirit seemed to lead him to continue the meeting, and so Saturday -night he went on as usual. - -The excitement all over the city had reached its climax when the -polls closed at six o'clock. Never before had there been such a -contest in Raymond. The issue of license or no-license had never -been an issue under such circumstances. Never before had such -elements in the city been arrayed against each other. It was an -unheard-of thing that the President of Lincoln College, the pastor -of the First Church, the Dean of the Cathedral, the professional men -living in fine houses on the boulevard, should come personally into -the wards, and by their presence and their example represent the -Christian conscience of the place. The ward politicians were -astonished at the sight. However, their astonishment did not prevent -their activity. The fight grew hotter every hour, and when six -o'clock came neither side could have guessed at the result with any -certainty. Every one agreed that never before had there been such an -election in Raymond, and both sides awaited the announcement of the -result with the greatest interest. - -It was after ten o'clock when the meeting at the tent was closed. It -had been a strange and, in some respects, a remarkable meeting. -Maxwell had come down again at Gray's request. He was completely -worn out by the day's work, but the appeal from Gray came to him in -such a form that he did not feel able to resist it. President Marsh -was also present. He had never been to the Rectangle, and his -curiosity was aroused from what he had noticed of the influence of -the evangelist in the worst part of the city. Dr. West and Rollin -had come with Rachel and Virginia; and Loreen, who still stayed with -Virginia, was present near the organ, in her right mind, sober, with -a humility and dread of herself that kept her as close to Virginia -as a faithful dog. All through the service she sat with bowed head, -weeping a part of the time, sobbing when Rachel sang the song, "I -was a wandering sheep," clinging with almost visible, tangible -yearning to the one hope she had found, listening to prayer and -appeal and confession all about her like one who was a part of a new -creation, yet fearful of her right to share in it fully. - -The tent had been crowded. As on some other occasions, there was -more or less disturbance on the outside. This had increased as the -night advanced, and Gray thought it wise not to prolong the service. - -Once in a while a shout as from a large crowd swept into the tent. -The returns from the election were beginning to come in, and the -Rectangle had emptied every lodging house, den and hovel into the -streets. - -In spite of these distractions Rachel's singing kept the crowd in -the tent from dissolving. There were a dozen or more conversions. -Finally the people became restless and Gray closed the service, -remaining a little while with the converts. - -Rachel, Virginia, Loreen, Rollin and the Doctor, President Marsh, -Mr. Maxwell and Dr. West went out together, intending to go down to -the usual waiting place for their car. As they came out of the tent -they were at once aware that the Rectangle was trembling on the -verge of a drunken riot, and as they pushed through the gathering -mobs in the narrow streets they began to realize that they -themselves were objects of great attention. - -"There he is--the bloke in the tall hat! He's the leader! shouted a -rough voice. President Marsh, with his erect, commanding figure, was -conspicuous in the little company. - -"How has the election gone? It is too early to know the result yet, -isn't it?" He asked the question aloud, and a man answered: - -"They say second and third wards have gone almost solid for -no-license. If that is so, the whiskey men have been beaten." - -"Thank God! I hope it is true!" exclaimed Maxwell. "Marsh, we are in -danger here. Do you realize our situation? We ought to get the -ladies to a place of safety." - -"That is true," said Marsh gravely. At that moment a shower of -stones and other missiles fell over them. The narrow street and -sidewalk in front of them was completely choked with the worst -elements of the Rectangle. - -"This looks serious," said Maxwell. With Marsh and Rollin and Dr. -West he started to go forward through a small opening, Virginia, -Rachel, and Loreen following close and sheltered by the men, who now -realized something of their danger. The Rectangle was drunk and -enraged. It saw in Marsh and Maxwell two of the leaders in the -election contest which had perhaps robbed them of their beloved -saloon. - -"Down with the aristocrats!" shouted a shrill voice, more like a -woman's than a man's. A shower of mud and stones followed. Rachel -remembered afterwards that Rollin jumped directly in front of her -and received on his head and chest a number of blows that would -probably have struck her if he had not shielded her from them. - -And just then, before the police reached them, Loreen darted forward -in front of Virginia and pushed her aside, looking up and screaming. -It was so sudden that no one had time to catch the face of the one -who did it. But out of the upper window of a room, over the very -saloon where Loreen had come out a week before, someone had thrown a -heavy bottle. It struck Loreen on the head and she fell to the -ground. Virginia turned and instantly kneeled down by her. The -police officers by that time had reached the little company. - -President Marsh raised his arm and shouted over the howl that was -beginning to rise from the wild beast in the mob. - -"Stop! You've killed a woman!" The announcement partly sobered the -crowd. - -"Is it true?" Maxwell asked it, as Dr. West kneeled on the other -side of Loreen, supporting her. - -"She's dying!" said Dr. West briefly. - -Loreen opened her eyes and smiled at Virginia, who wiped the blood -from her face and then bent over and kissed her. Loreen smiled -again, and the next minute her soul was in Paradise. - - - - - - -Chapter Fifteen - - - - - -"He that followeth me shall not walk in darkness." - -THE body of Loreen lay in state at the Page mansion on the avenue. -It was Sunday morning and the clear sweet spring air, just beginning -to breathe over the city the perfume of early blossoms in the woods -and fields, swept over the casket from one of the open windows at -the end of the grand hall. The church bells were ringing and people -on the avenue going by to service turned curious, inquiring looks up -at the great house and then went on, talking of the recent events -which had so strangely entered into and made history in the city. - -At the First Church, Mr. Maxwell, bearing on his face marks of the -scene he had been through, confronted an immense congregation, and -spoke to it with a passion and a power that came so naturally out of -the profound experiences of the day before that his people felt for -him something of the old feeling of pride they once had in his -dramatic delivery. Only this was with a different attitude. And all -through his impassioned appeal this morning, there was a note of -sadness and rebuke and stern condemnation that made many of the -members pale with self-accusation or with inward anger. - -For Raymond had awakened that morning to the fact that the city had -gone for license after all. The rumor at the Rectangle that the -second and third wards had gone no-license proved to be false. It -was true that the victory was won by a very meager majority. But the -result was the same as if it had been overwhelming. Raymond had -voted to continue for another year the saloon. The Christians of -Raymond stood condemned by the result. More than a hundred -professing Christian disciples had failed to go to the polls, and -many more than that number had voted with the whiskey men. If all -the church members of Raymond had voted against the saloon, it would -today be outlawed instead of crowned king of the municipality. For -that had been the fact in Raymond for years. The saloon ruled. No -one denied that. What would Jesus do? And this woman who had been -brutally struck down by the very hand that had assisted so eagerly -to work her earthly ruin what of her? Was it anything more than the -logical sequence of the whole horrible system of license, that for -another year the very saloon that received her so often and -compassed her degradation, from whose very spot the weapon had been -hurled that struck her dead, would, by the law which the Christian -people of Raymond voted to support, perhaps open its doors tomorrow -and damn a hundred Loreens before the year had drawn to its bloody -close? - -All this, with a voice that rang and trembled and broke in sobs of -anguish for the result, did Henry Maxwell pour out upon his people -that Sunday morning. And men and women wept as he spoke. President -Marsh sat there, his usual erect, handsome, firm, bright -self-confident bearing all gone; his head bowed upon his breast, the -great tears rolling down his cheeks, unmindful of the fact that -never before had he shown outward emotion in a public service. -Edward Norman near by sat with his clear-cut, keen face erect, but -his lip trembled and he clutched the end of the pew with a feeling -of emotion that struck deep into his knowledge of the truth as -Maxwell spoke it. No man had given or suffered more to influence -public opinion that week than Norman. The thought that the Christian -conscience had been aroused too late or too feebly, lay with a -weight of accusation upon the heart of the editor. What if he had -begun to do as Jesus would have done, long ago? Who could tell what -might have been accomplished by this time! And up in the choir, -Rachel Winslow, with her face bowed on the railing of the oak -screen, gave way to a feeling which she had not allowed yet to -master her, but it so unfitted her for her part that when Mr. -Maxwell finished and she tried to sing the closing solo after the -prayer, her voice broke, and for the first time in her life she was -obliged to sit down, sobbing, and unable to go on. - -Over the church, in the silence that followed this strange scene, -sobs and the noise of weeping arose. When had the First Church -yielded to such a baptism of tears? What had become of its regular, -precise, conventional order of service, undisturbed by any vulgar -emotion and unmoved by any foolish excitement? But the people had -lately had their deepest convictions touched. They had been living -so long on their surface feelings that they had almost forgotten the -deeper wells of life. Now that they had broken the surface, the -people were convicted of the meaning of their discipleship. - -Mr. Maxwell did not ask, this morning, for volunteers to join those -who had already pledged to do as Jesus would. But when the -congregation had finally gone, and he had entered the lecture-room, -it needed but a glance to show him that the original company of -followers had been largely increased. The meeting was tender; it -glowed with the Spirit's presence; it was alive with strong and -lasting resolve to begin a war on the whiskey power in Raymond that -would break its reign forever. Since the first Sunday when the first -company of volunteers had pledged themselves to do as Jesus would -do, the different meetings had been characterized by distinct -impulses or impressions. Today, the entire force of the gathering -seemed to be directed to this one large purpose. It was a meeting -full of broken prayers of contrition, of confession, of strong -yearning for a new and better city life. And all through it ran one -general cry for deliverance from the saloon and its awful curse. - -But if the First Church was deeply stirred by the events of the last -week, the Rectangle also felt moved strangely in its own way. The -death of Loreen was not in itself so remarkable a fact. It was her -recent acquaintance with the people from the city that lifted her -into special prominence and surrounded her death with more than -ordinary importance. Every one in the Rectangle knew that Loreen was -at this moment lying in the Page mansion up on the avenue. -Exaggerated reports of the magnificence of the casket had already -furnished material for eager gossip. The Rectangle was excited to -know the details of the funeral. Would it be public? What did Miss -Page intend to do? The Rectangle had never before mingled even in -this distant personal manner with the aristocracy on the boulevard. -The opportunities for doing so were not frequent. Gray and his wife -were besieged by inquirers who wanted to know what Loreen's friends -and acquaintances were expected to do in paying their last respects -to her. For her acquaintance was large and many of the recent -converts were among her friends. - -So that is how it happened that Monday afternoon, at the tent, the -funeral service of Loreen was held before an immense audience that -choked the tent and overflowed beyond all previous bounds. Gray had -gone up to Virginia's and, after talking it over with her and -Maxwell, the arrangement had been made. - -"I am and always have been opposed to large public funerals," said -Gray, whose complete wholesome simplicity of character was one of -its great sources of strength; "but the cry of the poor creatures -who knew Loreen is so earnest that I do not know how to refuse this -desire to see her and pay her poor body some last little honor. What -do you think, Mr. Maxwell? I will be guided by your judgment in the -matter. I am sure that whatever you and Miss Page think best, will -be right." - -"I feel as you do," replied Mr. Maxwell. "Under the circumstances I -have a great distaste for what seems like display at such times. But -this seems different. The people at the Rectangle will not come here -to service. I think the most Christian thing will be to let them -have the service at the tent. Do you think so, Miss Virginia?" - -"Yes," said Virginia. "Poor soul! I do not know but that some time I -shall know she gave her life for mine. We certainly cannot and will -not use the occasion for vulgar display. Let her friends be allowed -the gratification of their wishes. I see no harm in it." - -So the arrangements were made, with some difficulty, for the service -at the tent; and Virginia with her uncle and Rollin, accompanied by -Maxwell, Rachel and President Marsh, and the quartet from the First -Church, went down and witnessed one of the strange things of their -lives. - -It happened that that afternoon a somewhat noted newspaper -correspondent was passing through Raymond on his way to an editorial -convention in a neighboring city. He heard of the contemplated -service at the tent and went down. His description of it was written -in a graphic style that caught the attention of very many readers -the next day. A fragment of his account belongs to this part of the -history of Raymond: - -"There was a very unique and unusual funeral service held here this -afternoon at the tent of an evangelist, Rev. John Gray, down in the -slum district known as the Rectangle. The occasion was caused by the -killing of a woman during an election riot last Saturday night. It -seems she had been recently converted during the evangelist's -meetings, and was killed while returning from one of the meetings in -company with other converts and some of her friends. She was a -common street drunkard, and yet the services at the tent were as -impressive as any I ever witnessed in a metropolitan church over the -most distinguished citizen. - -"In the first place, a most exquisite anthem was sung by a trained -choir. It struck me, of course--being a stranger in the place--with -considerable astonishment to hear voices like those one naturally -expects to hear only in great churches or concerts, at such a -meeting as this. But the most remarkable part of the music was a -solo sung by a strikingly beautiful young woman, a Miss Winslow who, -if I remember right, is the young singer who was sought for by -Crandall the manager of National Opera, and who for some reason -refused to accept his offer to go on the stage. She had a most -wonderful manner in singing, and everybody was weeping before she -had sung a dozen words. That, of course, is not so strange an effect -to be produced at a funeral service, but the voice itself was one of -thousands. I understand Miss Winslow sings in the First Church of -Raymond and could probably command almost any salary as a public -singer. She will probably be heard from soon. Such a voice could win -its way anywhere. - -"The service aside from the singing was peculiar. The evangelist, a -man of apparently very simple, unassuming style, spoke a few words, -and he was followed by a fine-looking man, the Rev. Henry Maxwell, -pastor of the First Church of Raymond. Mr. Maxwell spoke of the fact -that the dead woman had been fully prepared to go, but he spoke in a -peculiarly sensitive manner of the effect of the liquor business on -the lives of men and women like this one. Raymond, of course, being -a railroad town and the centre of the great packing interests for -this region, is full of saloons. I caught from the minister's -remarks that he had only recently changed his views in regard to -license. He certainly made a very striking address, and yet it was -in no sense inappropriate for a funeral. - -"Then followed what was perhaps the queer part of this strange -service. The women in the tent, at least a large part of them up -near the coffin, began to sing in a soft, tearful way, 'I was a -wandering sheep.' Then while the singing was going on, one row of -women stood up and walked slowly past the casket, and as they went -by, each one placed a flower of some kind upon it. Then they sat -down and another row filed past, leaving their flowers. All the time -the singing continued softly like rain on a tent cover when the wind -is gentle. It was one of the simplest and at the same time one of -the most impressive sights I ever witnessed. The sides of the tent -were up, and hundreds of people who could not get in, stood outside, -all as still as death itself, with wonderful sadness and solemnity -for such rough looking people. There must have been a hundred of -these women, and I was told many of them had been converted at the -meetings just recently. I cannot describe the effect of that -singing. Not a man sang a note. All women's voices, and so soft, and -yet so distinct, that the effect was startling. - -"The service closed with another solo by Miss Winslow, who sang, -'There were ninety and nine.' And then the evangelist asked them all -to bow their heads while he prayed. I was obliged in order to catch -my train to leave during the prayer, and the last view I caught of -the service as the train went by the shops was a sight of the great -crowd pouring out of the tent and forming in open ranks while the -coffin was borne out by six of the women. It is a long time since I -have seen such a picture in this unpoetic Republic." - -If Loreen's funeral impressed a passing stranger like this, it is -not difficult to imagine the profound feelings of those who had been -so intimately connected with her life and death. Nothing had ever -entered the Rectangle that had moved it so deeply as Loreen's body -in that coffin. And the Holy Spirit seemed to bless with special -power the use of this senseless clay. For that night He swept more -than a score of lost souls, mostly women, into the fold of the Good -Shepherd. - - - - - - -Chapter Sixteen - - - - - -No one in all Raymond, including the Rectangle, felt Loreen's death -more keenly than Virginia. It came like a distinct personal loss to -her. That short week while the girl had been in her home had opened -Virginia's heart to a new life. She was talking it over with Rachel -the day after the funeral. Thee were sitting in the hall of the Page -mansion. - -"I am going to do something with my money to help those women to a -better life." Virginia looked over to the end of the hall where, the -day before, Loreen's body had lain. "I have decided on a good plan, -as it seems to me. I have talked it over with Rollin. He will devote -a large part of his money also to the same plan." - -"How much money have you, Virginia, to give in this way?" asked -Rachel. Once, she would never have asked such a personal question. -Now, it seemed as natural to talk frankly about money as about -anything else that belonged to God. - -"I have available for use at least four hundred and fifty-thousand -dollars. Rollin has as much more. It is one of his bitter regrets -now that his extravagant habits of life before his conversion -practically threw away half that father left him. We are both eager -to make all the reparation in our power. 'What would Jesus do with -this money?' We want to answer that question honestly and wisely. -The money I shall put into the NEWS is, I am confident, in a line -with His probable action. It is as necessary that we have a -Christian daily paper in Raymond, especially now that we have the -saloon influence to meet, as it is to have a church or a college. So -I am satisfied that the five hundred thousand dollars that Mr. -Norman will know how to use so well will be a powerful factor in -Raymond to do as Jesus would. - -"About my other plan, Rachel, I want you to work with me. Rollin and -I are going to buy up a large part of the property in the Rectangle. -The field where the tent now is, has been in litigation for years. -We mean to secure the entire tract as soon as the courts have -settled the title. For some time I have been making a special study -of the various forms of college settlements and residence methods of -Christian work and Institutional church work in the heart of great -city slums. I do not know that I have yet been able to tell just -what is the wisest and most effective kind of work that can be done -in Raymond. But I do know this much. My money--I mean God's, which -he wants me to use--can build wholesome lodging-houses, refuges for -poor women, asylums for shop girls, safety for many and many a lost -girl like Loreen. And I do not want to be simply a dispenser of this -money. God help me! I do want to put myself into the problem. But -you know, Rachel, I have a feeling all the time that all that -limitless money and limitless personal sacrifice can possibly do, -will not really lessen very much the awful condition at the -Rectangle as long as the saloon is legally established there. I -think that is true of any Christian work now being carried on in any -great city. The saloon furnishes material to be saved faster than -the settlement or residence or rescue mission work can save it." - -Virginia suddenly rose and paced the hall. Rachel answered sadly, -and yet with a note of hope in her voice: - -"It is true. But, Virginia, what a wonderful amount of good can be -done with this money! And the saloon cannot always remain here. The -time must come when the Christian forces in the city will triumph." - -Virginia paused near Rachel, and her pale, earnest face lighted up. - -"I believe that too. The number of those who have promised to do as -Jesus would is increasing. If we once have, say, five hundred such -disciples in Raymond, the saloon is doomed. But now, dear, I want -you to look at your part in this plan for capturing and saving the -Rectangle. Your voice is a power. I have had many ideas lately. Here -is one of them. You could organize among the girls a Musical -Institute; give them the benefit of your training. There are some -splendid voices in the rough there. Did any one ever hear such -singing as that yesterday by those women? Rachel, what a beautiful -opportunity! You shall have the best of material in the way of -organs and orchestras that money can provide, and what cannot be -done with music to win souls there into higher and purer and better -living?" - -Before Virginia had ceased speaking Rachel's face was perfectly -transformed with the thought of her life work. It flowed into her -heart and mind like a flood, and the torrent of her feeling -overflowed in tears that could not be restrained. It was what she -had dreamed of doing herself. It represented to her something that -she felt was in keeping with a right use of her talent. - -"Yes," she said, as she rose and put her arm about Virginia, while -both girls in the excitement of their enthusiasm paced the hall. -"Yes, I will gladly put my life into that kind of service. I do -believe that Jesus would have me use my life in this way. Virginia, -what miracles can we not accomplish in humanity if we have such a -lever as consecrated money to move things with!" - -"Add to it consecrated personal enthusiasm like yours, and it -certainly can accomplish great things," said Virginia smiling. And -before Rachel could reply, Rollin came in. - -He hesitated a moment, and then was passing out of the hall into the -library when Virginia called him back and asked some questions about -his work. - -Rollin came back and sat down, and together the three discussed -their future plans. Rollin was apparently entirely free from -embarrassment in Rachel's presence while Virginia was with them, -only his manner with her was almost precise, if not cold. The past -seemed to have been entirely absorbed in his wonderful conversion. -He had not forgotten it, but he seemed to be completely caught up -for this present time in the purpose of his new life. After a while -Rollin was called out, and Rachel and Virginia began to talk of -other things. - -"By the way, what has become of Jasper Chase?" Virginia asked the -question innocently, but Rachel flushed and Virginia added with a -smile, "I suppose he is writing another book. Is he going to put you -into this one, Rachel? You know I always suspected Jasper Chase of -doing that very thing in his first story." - -"Virginia," Rachel spoke with the frankness that had always existed -between the two friends, "Jasper Chase told me the other night that -he--in fact--he proposed to me--or he would, if--" - -Rachel stopped and sat with her hands clasped on her lap, and there -were tears in her eyes. - -"Virginia, I thought a little while ago I loved him, as he said he -loved me. But when he spoke, my heart felt repelled, and I said what -I ought to say. I told him no. I have not seen him since. That was -the night of the first conversions at the Rectangle." - -"I am glad for you," said Virginia quietly. - -"Why?" asked Rachel a little startled. - -"Because, I have never really liked Jasper Chase. He is too cold -and--I do not like to judge him, but I have always distrusted his -sincerity in taking the pledge at the church with the rest." - -Rachel looked at Virginia thoughtfully. - -"I have never given my heart to him I am sure. He touched my -emotions, and I admired his skill as a writer. I have thought at -times that I cared a good deal for him. I think perhaps if he had -spoken to me at any other time than the one he chose, I could easily -have persuaded myself that I loved him. But not now." - -Again Rachel paused suddenly, and when she looked up at Virginia -again there were tears on her face. Virginia came to her and put her -arm about her tenderly. - -When Rachel had left the house, Virginia sat in the hall thinking -over the confidence her friend had just shown her. There was -something still to be told, Virginia felt sure from Rachel's manner, -but she did not feel hurt that Rachel had kept back something. She -was simply conscious of more on Rachel's mind than she had revealed. - -Very soon Rollin came back, and he and Virginia, arm in arm as they -had lately been in the habit of doing, walked up and down the long -hall. It was easy for their talk to settle finally upon Rachel -because of the place she was to occupy in the plans which were being -made for the purchase of property at the Rectangle. - -"Did you ever know of a girl of such really gifted powers in vocal -music who was willing to give her life to the people as Rachel is -going to do? She is going to give music lessons in the city, have -private pupils to make her living, and then give the people in the -Rectangle the benefit of her culture and her voice." - -"It is certainly a very good example of self-sacrifice," replied -Rollin a little stiffly. - -Virginia looked at him a little sharply. "But don't you think it is -a very unusual example? Can you imagine--" here Virginia named half -a dozen famous opera singers--"doing anything of this sort?" - -"No, I cannot," Rollin answered briefly. "Neither can I imagine -Miss--" he spoke the name of the girl with the red parasol who had -begged Virginia to take the girls to the Rectangle--" doing what you -are doing, Virginia." - -"Any more than I can imagine Mr.--" Virginia spoke the name of a -young society leader "going about to the clubs doing your work, -Rollin." The two walked on in silence for the length of the hall. - -"Coming back to Rachel," began Virginia, "Rollin, why do you treat -her with such a distinct, precise manner? I think, Rollin--pardon me -if I hurt you--that she is annoyed by it. You need to be on easy -terms. I don't think Rachel likes this change." - -Rollin suddenly stopped. He seemed deeply agitated. He took his arm -from Virginia's and walked alone to the end of the hall. Then he -returned, with his hands behind him, and stopped near his sister and -said, "Virginia, have you not learned my secret?" - -Virginia looked bewildered, then over her face the unusual color -crept, showing that she understood. - -"I have never loved any one but Rachel Winslow." Rollin spoke calmly -enough now. "That day she was here when you talked about her refusal -to join the concert company, I asked her to be my wife; out there on -the avenue. She refused me, as I knew she would. And she gave as her -reason the fact that I had no purpose in life, which was true -enough. Now that I have a purpose, now that I am a new man, don't -you see, Virginia, how impossible it is for me to say anything? I -owe my very conversion to Rachel's singing. And yet that night while -she sang I can honestly say that, for the time being, I never -thought of her voice except as God's message. I believe that all my -personal love for her was for the time merged into a personal love -to my God and my Saviour." Rollin was silent, then he went on with -more emotion. "I still love her, Virginia. But I do not think she -ever could love me." He stopped and looked his sister in the face -with a sad smile. - -"I don't know about that," said Virginia to herself. She was noting -Rollin's handsome face, his marks of dissipation nearly all gone -now, the firm lips showing manhood and courage, the clear eyes -looking into hers frankly, the form strong and graceful. Rollin was -a man now. Why should not Rachel come to love him in time? Surely -the two were well fitted for each other, especially now that their -purpose in life was moved by the same Christian force. - - - - - - -Chapter Seventeen - - - - - -THE next day she went down to the NEWS office to see Edward Norman -and arrange the details of her part in the establishment of the -paper on its new foundation. Mr. Maxwell was present at this -conference, and the three agreed that whatever Jesus would do in -detail as editor of a daily paper, He would be guided by the same -general principles that directed His conduct as the Saviour of the -world. - -"I have tried to put down here in concrete form some of the things -that it has seemed to me Jesus would do," said Edward Norman. He -read from a paper lying on his desk, and Maxwell was reminded again -of his own effort to put into written form his own conception of -Jesus' probable action, and also of Milton Wright's same attempt in -his business. - -"I have headed this, 'What would Jesus do as Edward Norman, editor -of a daily newspaper in Raymond?' - -"1. He would never allow a sentence or a picture in his paper that -could be called bad or coarse or impure in any way. - -"2. He would probably conduct the political part of the paper from -the standpoint of non-partisan patriotism, always looking upon all -political questions in the light of their relation to the Kingdom of -God, and advocating measures from the standpoint of their relation -to the welfare of the people, always on the basis of 'What is -right?' never on the basis of 'What is for the best interests of -this or that party?' In other words, He would treat all political -questions as he would treat every other subject, from the standpoint -of the advancement of the Kingdom of God on earth." - -Edward Norman looked up from the reading a moment. "You understand -that is my opinion of Jesus' probable action on political matters in -a daily paper. I am not passing judgment on other newspaper men who -may have a different conception of Jesus' probable action from mine. -I am simply trying to answer honestly, 'What would Jesus do as -Edward Norman?' And the answer I find is what I have put down.' - -"3. The end and aim of a daily paper conducted by Jesus would be to -do the will of God. That is, His main purpose in carrying on a -newspaper would not be to make money, or gain political influence; -but His first and ruling purpose would be to so conduct his paper -that it would be evident to all his subscribers that He was trying -to seek first the Kingdom of God by means of His paper. This purpose -would be as distinct and unquestioned as the purpose of a minister -or a missionary or any unselfish martyr in Christian work anywhere. - -"4. All questionable advertisements would be impossible. - -"5. The relations of Jesus to the employees on the paper would be of -the most loving character." - -"So far as I have gone," said Norman again looking up, "I am of -opinion that Jesus would employ practically some form of -co-operation that would represent the idea of a mutual interest in a -business where all were to move together for the same great end. I -am working out such a plan, and I am confident it will be -successful. At any rate, once introduce the element of personal love -into a business like this, take out the selfish principle of doing -it for personal profits to a man or company, and I do not see any -way except the most loving personal interest between editors, -reporters, pressmen, and all who contribute anything to the life of -the paper. And that interest would be expressed not only in the -personal love and sympathy but in a sharing with the profits of the -business." - -"6. As editor of a daily paper today, Jesus would give large space -to the work of the Christian world. He would devote a page possibly -to the facts of Reform, of sociological problems, of institutional -church work and similar movements. - -"7. He would do all in His power in His paper to fight the saloon as -an enemy of the human race and an unnecessary part of our -civilization. He would do this regardless of public sentiment in the -matter and, of course, always regardless of its effect upon His -subscription list." - -Again Edward Norman looked up. "I state my honest conviction on this -point. Of course, I do not pass judgment on the Christian men who -are editing other kinds of papers today. But as I interpret Jesus, I -believe He would use the influence of His paper to remove the saloon -entirely from the political and social life of the nation." - -"8. Jesus would not issue a Sunday edition. - -"9. He would print the news of the world that people ought to know. -Among the things they do not need to know, and which would not be -published, would be accounts of brutal prize-fights, long accounts -of crimes, scandals in private families, or any other human events -which in any way would conflict with the first point mentioned in -this outline. - -"10. If Jesus had the amount of money to use on a paper which we -have, He would probably secure the best and strongest Christian men -and women to co-operate with him in the matter of contributions. -That will be my purpose, as I shall be able to show you in a few -days. - -"11. Whatever the details of the paper might demand as the paper -developed along its definite plan, the main principle that guided it -would always be the establishment of the Kingdom of God in the -world. This large general principle would necessarily shape all the -detail." - -Edward Norman finished reading the plan. He was very thoughtful. - -"I have merely sketched a faint outline. I have a hundred ideas for -making the paper powerful that I have not thought out fully as yet. -This is simply suggestive. I have talked it over with other -newspaper men. Some of them say I will have a weak, namby-pamby -Sunday-school sheet. If I get out something as good as a -Sunday-school it will be pretty good. Why do men, when they want to -characterize something as particularly feeble, always use a -Sunday-school as a comparison, when they ought to know that the -Sunday-school is one of the strongest, most powerful influences in -our civilization in this country today? But the paper will not -necessarily be weak because it is good. Good things are more -powerful than bad. The question with me is largely one of support -from the Christian people of Raymond. There are over twenty thousand -church members here in this city. If half of them will stand by the -NEWS its life is assured. What do you think, Maxwell, of the -probability of such support?" - -"I don't know enough about it to give an intelligent answer. I -believe in the paper with all my heart. If it lives a year, as Miss -Virginia said, there is no telling what it can do. The great thing -will be to issue such a paper, as near as we can judge, as Jesus -probably would, and put into it all the elements of Christian -brains, strength, intelligence and sense; and command respect for -freedom from bigotry, fanaticism, narrowness and anything else that -is contrary to the spirit of Jesus. Such a paper will call for the -best that human thought and action is capable of giving. The -greatest minds in the world would have their powers taxed to the -utmost to issue a Christian daily." - -"Yes," Edward Norman spoke humbly. "I shall make a great many -mistakes, no doubt. I need a great deal of wisdom. But I want to do -as Jesus would. 'What would He do?' I have asked it, and shall -continue to do so, and abide by the results." - -"I think we are beginning to understand," said Virginia, "the -meaning of that command, 'Grow in the grace and knowledge of our -Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' I am sure I do not know all that He -would do in detail until I know Him better." - -"That is very true," said Henry Maxwell. "I am beginning to -understand that I cannot interpret the probable action of Jesus -until I know better what His spirit is. The greatest question in all -of human life is summed up when we ask, 'What would Jesus do?' if, -as we ask it, we also try to answer it from a growth in knowledge of -Jesus himself. We must know Jesus before we can imitate Him." - -When the arrangement had been made between Virginia an Edward -Norman, he found himself in possession of the sum of five hundred -thousand dollars to use for the establishment of a Christian daily -paper. When Virginia and Maxwell had gone, Norman closed his door -and, alone with the Divine Presence, asked like a child for help -from his all-powerful Father. All through his prayer as he kneeled -before his desk ran the promise, "If any man lack wisdom, let him -ask of God who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not, and -it shall be given him." Surely his prayer would be answered, and the -kingdom advanced through this instrument of God's power, this mighty -press, which had become so largely degraded to the base uses of -man's avarice and ambition. - -Two months went by. They were full of action and of results in the -city of Raymond and especially in the First Church. In spite of the -approaching heat of the summer season, the after-meeting of the -disciples who had made the pledge to do as Jesus would do, continued -with enthusiasm and power. Gray had finished his work at the -Rectangle, and an outward observer going through the place could not -have seen any difference in the old conditions, although there was -an actual change in hundreds of lives. But the saloons, dens, -hovels, gambling houses, still ran, overflowing their vileness into -the lives of fresh victims to take the place of those rescued by the -evangelist. And the devil recruited his ranks very fast. - -Henry Maxwell did not go abroad. Instead of that, he took the money -he had been saving for the trip and quietly arranged for a summer -vacation for a whole family living down in the Rectangle, who had -never gone outside of the foul district of the tenements. The pastor -of the First Church will never forget the week he spent with this -family making the arrangements. He went down into the Rectangle one -hot day when something of the terrible heat in the horrible -tenements was beginning to be felt, and helped the family to the -station, and then went with them to a beautiful spot on the coast -where, in the home of a Christian woman, the bewildered city tenants -breathed for the first time in years the cool salt air, and felt -blow about them the pine-scented fragrance of a new lease of life. - -There was a sickly babe with the mother, and three other children, -one a cripple. The father, who had been out of work until he had -been, as he afterwards confessed to Maxwell, several times on the -edge of suicide, sat with the baby in his arms during the journey, -and when Maxwell started back to Raymond, after seeing the family -settled, the man held his hand at parting, and choked with his -utterance, and finally broke down, to Maxwell's great confusion. The -mother, a wearied, worn-out woman who had lost three children the -year before from a fever scourge in the Rectangle, sat by the car -window all the way and drank in the delights of sea and sky and -field. It all seemed a miracle to her. And Maxwell, coming back into -Raymond at the end of that week, feeling the scorching, sickening -heat all the more because of his little taste of the ocean breezes, -thanked God for the joy he had witnessed, and entered upon his -discipleship with a humble heart, knowing for almost the first time -in his life this special kind of sacrifice. For never before had he -denied himself his regular summer trip away from the heat of -Raymond, whether he felt in any great need of rest or not. - -"It is a fact," he said in reply to several inquiries on the part of -his church, "I do not feel in need of a vacation this year. I am -very well and prefer to stay here." It was with a feeling of relief -that he succeeded in concealing from every one but his wife what he -had done with this other family. He felt the need of doing anything -of that sort without display or approval from others. - -So the summer came on, and Maxwell grew into a large knowledge of -his Lord. The First Church was still swayed by the power of the -Spirit. Maxwell marveled at the continuance of His stay. He knew -very well that from the beginning nothing but the Spirit's presence -had kept the church from being torn asunder by the remarkable -testing it had received of its discipleship. Even now there were -many of the members among those who had not taken the pledge, who -regarded the whole movement as Mrs. Winslow did, in the nature of a -fanatical interpretation of Christian duty, and looked for the -return of the old normal condition. Meanwhile the whole body of -disciples was under the influence of the Spirit, and the pastor went -his way that summer, doing his parish work in great joy, keeping up -his meetings with the railroad men as he had promised Alexander -Powers, and daily growing into a better knowledge of the Master. - -Early one afternoon in August, after a day of refreshing coolness -following a long period of heat, Jasper Chase walked to his window -in the apartment house on the avenue and looked out. - -On his desk lay a pile of manuscript. Since that evening when he had -spoken to Rachel Winslow he had not met her. His singularly -sensitive nature--sensitive to the point of extreme irritability -when he was thwarted--served to thrust him into an isolation that -was intensified by his habits as an author. - -All through the heat of summer he had been writing. His book was -nearly done now. He had thrown himself into its construction with a -feverish strength that threatened at any moment to desert him and -leave him helpless. He had not forgotten his pledge made with the -other church members at the First Church. It had forced itself upon -his notice all through his writing, and ever since Rachel had said -no to him, he had asked a thousand times, "Would Jesus do this? -Would He write this story?" It was a social novel, written in a -style that had proved popular. It had no purpose except to amuse. -Its moral teaching was not bad, but neither was it Christian in any -positive way. Jasper Chase knew that such a story would probably -sell. He was conscious of powers in this way that the social world -petted and admired. "What would Jesus do?" He felt that Jesus would -never write such a book. The question obtruded on him at the most -inopportune times. He became irascible over it. The standard of -Jesus for an author was too ideal. Of course, Jesus would use His -powers to produce something useful or helpful, or with a purpose. -What was he, Jasper Chase, writing this novel for? Why, what nearly -every writer wrote for--money, money, and fame as a writer. There -was no secret with him that he was writing this new story with that -object. He was not poor, and so had no great temptation to write for -money. But he was urged on by his desire for fame as much as -anything. He must write this kind of matter. But what would Jesus -do? The question plagued him even more than Rachel's refusal. Was he -going to break his promise? "Did the promise mean much after all?" -he asked. - -As he stood at the window, Rollin Page came out of the club house -just opposite. Jasper noted his handsome face and noble figure as he -started down the street. He went back to his desk and turned over -some papers there. Then he came back to the window. Rollin was -walking down past the block and Rachel Winslow was walking beside -him. Rollin must have overtaken her as she was coming from -Virginia's that afternoon. - -Jasper watched the two figures until they disappeared in the crowd -on the walk. Then he turned to his desk and began to write. When he -had finished the last page of the last chapter of his book it was -nearly dark. "What would Jesus do?" He had finally answered the -question by denying his Lord. It grew darker in his room. He had -deliberately chosen his course, urged on by his disappointment and -loss. - - - - - - -Chapter Eighteen - - - - - -"What is that to thee? Follow thou me." - -WHEN Rollin started down the street the afternoon that Jasper stood -looking out of his window he was not thinking of Rachel Winslow and -did not expect to see her anywhere. He had come suddenly upon her as -he turned into the avenue and his heart had leaped up at the sight -of her. He walked along by her now, rejoicing after all in a little -moment of this earthly love he could not drive out of his life. - -"I have just been over to see Virginia," said Rachel. "She tells me -the arrangements are nearly completed for the transfer of the -Rectangle property." - -"Yes. It has been a tedious case in the courts. Did Virginia show -you all the plans and specifications for building?" - -"We looked over a good many. It is astonishing to me where Virginia -has managed to get all her ideas about this work." - -"Virginia knows more now about Arnold Toynbee and East End London -and Institutional Church work in America than a good many -professional slum workers. She has been spending nearly all summer -in getting information." Rollin was beginning to feel more at ease -as they talked over this coming work of humanity. It was safe, -common ground. - -"What have you been doing all summer? I have not seen much of you," -Rachel suddenly asked, and then her face warmed with its quick flush -of tropical color as if she might have implied too much interest in -Rollin or too much regret at not seeing him oftener. - -"I have been busy," replied Rollin briefly. - -"Tell me something about it," persisted Rachel. "You say so little. -Have I a right to ask?" - -She put the question very frankly, turning toward Rollin in real -earnest. - -"Yes, certainly," he replied, with a graceful smile. "I am not so -certain that I can tell you much. I have been trying to find some -way to reach the men I once knew and win them into more useful -lives." - -He stopped suddenly as if he were almost afraid to go on. Rachel did -not venture to suggest anything. - -"I have been a member of the same company to which you and Virginia -belong," continued Rollin, beginning again. "I have made the pledge -to do as I believe Jesus would do, and it is in trying to answer -this question that I have been doing my work." - -"That is what I do not understand. Virginia told me about the other. -It seems wonderful to think that you are trying to keep that pledge -with us. But what can you do with the club men?" - -"You have asked me a direct question and I shall have to answer it -now," replied Rollin, smiling again. "You see, I asked myself after -that night at the tent, you remember" (he spoke hurriedly and his -voice trembled a little), "what purpose I could now have in my life -to redeem it, to satisfy my thought of Christian discipleship? And -the more I thought of it, the more I was driven to a place where I -knew I must take up the cross. Did you ever think that of all the -neglected beings in our social system none are quite so completely -left alone as the fast young men who fill the clubs and waste their -time and money as I used to? The churches look after the poor, -miserable creatures like those in the Rectangle; they make some -effort to reach the working man, they have a large constituency -among the average salary-earning people, they send money and -missionaries to the foreign heathen, but the fashionable, dissipated -young men around town, the club men, are left out of all plans for -reaching and Christianizing. And yet no class of people need it -more. I said to myself: 'I know these men, their good and their bad -qualities. I have been one of them. I am not fitted to reach the -Rectangle people. I do not know how. But I think I could possibly -reach some of the young men and boys who have money and time to -spend.' So that is what I have been trying to do. When I asked as -you did, What would Jesus do?' that was my answer. It has been also -my cross." - -Rollin's voice was so low on this last sentence that Rachel had -difficulty in hearing him above the noise around them, But she knew -what he had said. She wanted to ask what his methods were. But she -did not know how to ask him. Her interest in his plan was larger -than mere curiosity. Rollin Page was so different now from the -fashionable young man who had asked her to be his wife that she -could not help thinking of him and talking with him as if he were an -entirely new acquaintance. - -They had turned off the avenue and were going up the street to -Rachel's home. It was the same street where Rollin had asked Rachel -why she could not love him. They were both stricken with a sudden -shyness as they went on. Rachel had not forgotten that day and -Rollin could not. She finally broke a long silence by asking what -she had not found words for before. - -"In your work with the club men, with your old acquaintances, what -sort of reception do they give you? How do you approach them? What -do they say?" - -Rollin was relieved when Rachel spoke. He answered quickly: "Oh, it -depends on the man. A good many of them think I am a crank. I have -kept my membership up and am in good standing in that way. I try to -be wise and not provoke any unnecessary criticism. But you would be -surprised to know how many of the men have responded to my appeal. I -could hardly make you believe that only a few nights ago a dozen men -became honestly and earnestly engaged in a conversation over -religious matters. I have had the great joy of seeing some of the -men give up bad habits and begin a new life. 'What would Jesus do?' -I keep asking it. The answer comes slowly, for I am feeling my way -slowly. One thing I have found out. The men are not fighting shy of -me. I think that is a good sign. Another thing: I have actually -interested some of them in the Rectangle work, and when it is -started up they will give something to help make it more powerful. -And in addition to all the rest, I have found a way to save several -of the young fellows from going to the bad in gambling." - -Rollin spoke with enthusiasm. His face was transformed by his -interest in the subject which had now become a part of his real -life. Rachel again noted the strong, manly tone of his speech. With -it all she knew there was a deep, underlying seriousness which felt -the burden of the cross even while carrying it with joy. The next -time she spoke it was with a swift feeling of justice due to Rollin -and his new life. - -"Do you remember I reproached you once for not having any purpose -worth living for?" she asked, while her beautiful face seemed to -Rollin more beautiful than ever when he had won sufficient -self-control to look up. "I want to say, I feel the need of saying, -in justice to you now, that I honor you for your courage and your -obedience to the promise you have made as you interpret the promise. -The life you are living is a noble one." - -Rollin trembled. His agitation was greater than he could control. -Rachel could not help seeing it. They walked along in silence. At -last Rollin said: "I thank you. It has been worth more to me than I -can tell you to hear you say that." He looked into her face for one -moment. She read his love for her in that look, but he did not -speak. - -When they separated Rachel went into the house and, sitting down in -her room, she put her face in her hands and said to herself: "I am -beginning to know what it means to be loved by a noble man. I shall -love Rollin Page after all. What am I saying! Rachel Winslow, have -you forgotten--" - -She rose and walked back and forth. She was deeply moved. -Nevertheless, it was evident to herself that her emotion was not -that of regret or sorrow. Somehow a glad new joy had come to her. -She had entered another circle of experience, and later in the day -she rejoiced with a very strong and sincere gladness that her -Christian discipleship found room in this crisis for her feeling. It -was indeed a part of it, for if she was beginning to love Rollin -Page it was the Christian man she had begun to love; the other never -would have moved her to this great change. - -And Rollin, as he went back, treasured a hope that had been a -stranger to him since Rachel had said no that day. In that hope he -went on with his work as the days sped on, and at no time was he -more successful in reaching and saving his old acquaintances than in -the time that followed that chance meeting with Rachel Winslow. - -The summer had gone and Raymond was once more facing the rigor of -her winter season. Virginia had been able to accomplish a part of -her plan for "capturing the Rectangle," as she called it. But the -building of houses in the field, the transforming of its bleak, bare -aspect into an attractive park, all of which was included in her -plan, was a work too large to be completed that fall after she had -secured the property. But a million dollars in the hands of a person -who truly wants to do with it as Jesus would, ought to accomplish -wonders for humanity in a short time, and Henry Maxwell, going over -to the scene of the new work one day after a noon hour with the shop -men, was amazed to see how much had been done outwardly. - -Yet he walked home thoughtfully, and on his way he could not avoid -the question of the continual problem thrust upon his notice by the -saloon. How much had been done for the Rectangle after all? Even -counting Virginia's and Rachel's work and Mr. Gray's, where had it -actually counted in any visible quantity? Of course, he said to -himself, the redemptive work begun and carried on by the Holy Spirit -in His wonderful displays of power in the First Church and in the -tent meetings had had its effect upon the life of Raymond. But as he -walked past saloon after saloon and noted the crowds going in and -coming out of them, as he saw the wretched dens, as many as ever -apparently, as he caught the brutality and squalor and open misery -and degradation on countless faces of men and women and children, he -sickened at the sight. He found himself asking how much cleansing -could a million dollars poured into this cesspool accomplish? Was -not the living source of nearly all the human misery they sought to -relieve untouched as long as the saloons did their deadly but -legitimate work? What could even such unselfish Christian -discipleship as Virginia's and Rachel's do to lessen the stream of -vice and crime so long as the great spring of vice and crime flowed -as deep and strong as ever? Was it not a practical waste of -beautiful lives for these young women to throw themselves into this -earthly hell, when for every soul rescued by their sacrifice the -saloon made two more that needed rescue? - -He could not escape the question. It was the same that Virginia had -put to Rachel in her statement that, in her opinion, nothing really -permanent would ever be done until the saloon was taken out of the -Rectangle. Henry Maxwell went back to his parish work that afternoon -with added convictions on the license business. - -But if the saloon was a factor in the problem of the life of -Raymond, no less was the First Church and its little company of -disciples who had pledged to do as Jesus would do. Henry Maxwell, -standing at the very centre of the movement, was not in a position -to judge of its power as some one from the outside might have done. -But Raymond itself felt the touch in very many ways, not knowing all -the reasons for the change. - -The winter was gone and the year was ended, the year which Henry -Maxwell had fixed as the time during which the pledge should be kept -to do as Jesus would do. Sunday, the anniversary of that one a year -ago, was in many ways the most remarkable day that the First Church -ever knew. It was more important than the disciples in the First -Church realized. The year had made history so fast and so serious -that the people were not yet able to grasp its significance. And the -day itself which marked the completion of a whole year of such -discipleship was characterized by such revelations and confessions -that the immediate actors in the events themselves could not -understand the value of what had been done, or the relation of their -trial to the rest of the churches and cities of the country. - - - - - - -Chapter Nineteen - - - - - -[Letter from Rev. Calvin Bruce, D.D., of the Nazareth Avenue Church, -Chicago, to Rev. Philip A. Caxton, D.D., New York City.] - -"My Dear Caxton: - -"It is late Sunday night, but I am so intensely awake and so -overflowing with what I have seen and heard that I feel driven to -write you now some account of the situation in Raymond as I have -been studying it, and as it has apparently come to a climax today. -So this is my only excuse for writing so extended a letter at this -time. - -"You remember Henry Maxwell in the Seminary. I think you said the -last time I visited you in New York that you had not seen him since -we graduated. He was a refined, scholarly fellow, you remember, and -when he was called to the First Church of Raymond within a year -after leaving the Seminary, I said to my wife, 'Raymond has made a -good choice. Maxwell will satisfy them as a sermonizer.' He has been -here eleven years, and I understand that up to a year ago he had -gone on in the regular course of the ministry, giving good -satisfaction and drawing good congregations. His church was counted -the largest and wealthiest church in Raymond. All the best people -attended it, and most of them belonged. The quartet choir was famous -for its music, especially for its soprano, Miss Winslow, of whom I -shall have more to say; and, on the whole, as I understand the -facts, Maxwell was in a comfortable berth, with a very good salary, -pleasant surroundings, a not very exacting parish of refined, rich, -respectable people--such a church and parish as nearly all the young -men of the seminary in our time looked forward to as very desirable. - -"But a year ago today Maxwell came into his church on Sunday -morning, and at the close of the service made the astounding -proposition that the members of his church volunteer for a year not -to do anything without first asking the question, 'What would Jesus -do?' and, after answering it, to do what in their honest judgment He -would do, regardless of what the result might be to them. - -"The effect of this proposition, as it has been met and obeyed by a -number of members of the church, has been so remarkable that, as you -know, the attention of the whole country has been directed to the -movement. I call it a 'movement' because from the action taken -today, it seems probable that what has been tried here will reach -out into the other churches and cause a revolution in methods, but -more especially in a new definition of Christian discipleship. - -"In the first place, Maxwell tells me he was astonished at the -response to his proposition. Some of the most prominent members in -the church made the promise to do as Jesus would. Among them were -Edward Norman, editor of the DAILY NEWS, which has made such a -sensation in the newspaper world; Milton Wright, one of the leading -merchants in Raymond; Alexander Powers, whose action in the matter -of the railroads against the interstate commerce laws made such a -stir about a year ago; Miss Page, one of Raymond's leading society -heiresses, who has lately dedicated her entire fortune, as I -understand, to the Christian daily paper and the work of reform in -the slum district known as the Rectangle; and Miss Winslow, whose -reputation as a singer is now national, but who in obedience to what -she has decided to be Jesus' probable action, has devoted her talent -to volunteer work among the girls and women who make up a large part -of the city's worst and most abandoned population. - -"In addition to these well-known people has been a gradually -increasing number of Christians from the First Church and lately -from other churches of Raymond. A large proportion of these -volunteers who pledged themselves to do as Jesus would do comes from -the Endeavor societies. The young people say that they have already -embodied in their society pledge the same principle in the words, 'I -promise Him that I will strive to do whatever He would have me do.' -This is not exactly what is included in Maxwell's proposition, which -is that the disciple shall try to do what Jesus would probably do in -the disciple's place. But the result of an honest obedience to -either pledge, he claims, will be practically the same, and he is -not surprised that the largest numbers have joined the new -discipleship from the Endeavor Society. - -"I am sure the first question you will ask is, 'What has been the -result of this attempt? What has it accomplished or how has it -changed in any way the regular life of the church or the community?' - -"You already know something, from reports of Raymond that have gone -over the country, what the events have been. But one needs to come -here and learn something of the changes in individual lives, and -especially the change in the church life, to realize all that is -meant by this following of Jesus' steps so literally. To tell all -that would be to write a long story or series of stories. I am not -in a position to do that, but I can give you some idea perhaps of -what has been done as told me by friends here and by Maxwell -himself. - -"The result of the pledge upon the First Church has been two-fold. -It has brought upon a spirit of Christian fellowship which Maxwell -tells me never before existed, and which now impresses him as being -very nearly what the Christian fellowship of the apostolic churches -must have been; and it has divided the church into two distinct -groups of members. Those who have not taken the pledge regard the -others as foolishly literal in their attempt to imitate the example -of Jesus. Some of them have drawn out of the church and no longer -attend, or they have removed their membership entirely to other -churches. Some are an element of internal strife, and I heard rumors -of an attempt on their part to force Maxwell's resignation. I do not -know that this element is very strong in the church. It has been -held in check by a wonderful continuance of spiritual power, which -dates from the first Sunday the pledge was taken a year ago, and -also by the fact that so many of the most prominent members have -been identified with the movement. - -"The effect on Maxwell is very marked. I heard him preach in our -State Association four years ago. He impressed me at the time as -having considerable power in dramatic delivery, of which he himself -was somewhat conscious. His sermon was well written and abounded in -what the Seminary students used to call 'fine passages.' The effect -of it was what an average congregation would call 'pleasing.' This -morning I heard Maxwell preach again, for the first time since then. -I shall speak of that farther on. He is not the same man. He gives -me the impression of one who has passed through a crisis of -revolution. He tells me this revolution is simply a new definition -of Christian discipleship. He certainly has changed many of his old -habits and many of his old views. His attitude on the saloon -question is radically opposite to the one he entertained a year ago. -And in his entire thought of the ministry, his pulpit and parish -work, I find he has made a complete change. So far as I can -understand, the idea that is moving him on now is the idea that the -Christianity of our times must represent a more literal imitation of -Jesus, and especially in the element of suffering. He quoted to me -in the course of our conversation several times the verses in Peter: -'For even hereunto were ye called, because Christ also suffered for -you, leaving you an example, that ye would follow His steps'; and he -seems filled with the conviction that what our churches need today -more than anything else is this factor of joyful suffering for Jesus -in some form. I do not know as I agree with him, altogether; but, my -dear Caxton, it is certainly astonishing to note the results of this -idea as they have impressed themselves upon this city and this -church. - -"You ask how about the results on the individuals who have made this -pledge and honestly tried to be true to it. Those results are, as I -have said, a part of individual history and cannot be told in -detail. Some of them I can give you so that you may see that this -form of discipleship is not merely sentiment or fine posing for -effect. - -"For instance, take the case of Mr. Powers, who was superintendent -of the machine shops of the L. and T. R. R. here. When he acted upon -the evidence which incriminated the road he lost his position, and -more than that, I learn from my friends here, his family and social -relations have become so changed that he and his family no longer -appear in public. They have dropped out of the social circle where -once they were so prominent. By the way, Caxton, I understand in -this connection that the Commission, for one reason or another, -postponed action on this case, and it is now rumored that the L. and -T. R. R. will pass into a receiver's hands very soon. The president -of the road who, according to the evidence submitted by Powers, was -the principal offender, has resigned, and complications which have -risen since point to the receivership. Meanwhile, the superintendent -has gone back to his old work as a telegraph operator. I met him at -the church yesterday. He impressed me as a man who had, like -Maxwell, gone through a crisis in character. I could not help -thinking of him as being good material for the church of the first -century when the disciples had all things in common. - -"Or take the case of Mr. Norman, editor of the DAILY NEWS. He risked -his entire fortune in obedience to what he believed was Jesus' -action, and revolutionized his entire conduct of the paper at the -risk of a failure. I send you a copy of yesterday's paper. I want -you to read it carefully. To my mind it is one of the most -interesting and remarkable papers ever printed in the United States. -It is open to criticism, but what could any mere man attempt in this -line that would be free from criticism. Take it all in all, it is so -far above the ordinary conception of a daily paper that I am amazed -at the result. He tells me that the paper is beginning to be read -more and more by the Christian people of the city. He was very -confident of its final success. Read his editorial on the money -questions, also the one on the coming election in Raymond when the -question of license will again be an issue. Both articles are of the -best from his point of view. He says he never begins an editorial -or, in fact, any part of his newspaper work, without first asking, -'What would Jesus do?' The result is certainly apparent. - -"Then there is Milton Wright, the merchant. He has, I am told, so -revolutionized his business that no man is more beloved today in -Raymond. His own clerks and employees have an affection for him that -is very touching. During the winter, while he was lying dangerously -ill at his home, scores of clerks volunteered to watch and help in -any way possible, and his return to his store was greeted with -marked demonstrations. All this has been brought about by the -element of personal love introduced into the business. This love is -not mere words, but the business itself is carried on under a system -of co-operation that is not a patronizing recognition of inferiors, -but a real sharing in the whole business. Other men on the street -look upon Milton Wright as odd. It is a fact, however, that while he -has lost heavily in some directions, he has increased his business, -and is today respected and honored as one of the best and most -successful merchants in Raymond. - -"And there is Miss Winslow. She has chosen to give her great talent -to the poor of the city. Her plans include a Musical Institute where -choruses and classes in vocal music shall be a feature. She is -enthusiastic over her life work. In connection with her friend Miss -Page she has planned a course in music which, if carried out, will -certainly do much to lift up the lives of the people down there. I -am not too old, dear Caxton, to be interested in the romantic side -of much that has also been tragic here in Raymond, and I must tell -you that it is well understood here that Miss Winslow expects to be -married this spring to a brother of Miss Page who was once a society -leader and club man, and who was converted in a tent where his -wife-that-is-to-be took an active part in the service. I don't know -all the details of this little romance, but I imagine there is a -story wrapped up in it, and it would make interesting reading if we -only knew it all. - -"These are only a few illustrations of results in individual lives -owing to obedience to the pledge. I meant to have spoken of -President Marsh of Lincoln College. He is a graduate of my alma -mater and I knew him slightly when I was in the senior year. He has -taken an active part in the recent municipal campaign, and his -influence in the city is regarded as a very large factor in the -coming election. He impressed me, as did all the other disciples in -this movement, as having fought out some hard questions, and as -having taken up some real burdens that have caused and still do -cause that suffering of which Henry Maxwell speaks, a suffering that -does not eliminate, but does appear to intensify, a positive and -practical joy." - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty - - - - - -"BUT I am prolonging this letter, possibly to your weariness. I am -unable to avoid the feeling of fascination which my entire stay here -has increased. I want to tell you something of the meeting in the -First Church today. - -"As I said, I heard Maxwell preach. At his earnest request I had -preached for him the Sunday before, and this was the first time I -had heard him since the Association meeting four years ago. His -sermon this morning was as different from his sermon then as if it -had been thought out and preached by some one living on another -planet. I was profoundly touched. I believe I actually shed tears -once. Others in the congregation were moved like myself. His text -was: 'What is that to thee? Follow thou Me.' It was a most unusually -impressive appeal to the Christians of Raymond to obey Jesus' -teachings and follow in His steps regardless of what others might -do. I cannot give you even the plan of the sermon. It would take too -long. At the close of the service there was the usual after meeting -that has become a regular feature of the First Church. Into this -meeting have come all those who made the pledge to do as Jesus would -do, and the time is spent in mutual fellowship, confession, question -as to what Jesus would do in special cases, and prayer that the one -great guide of every disciple's conduct may be the Holy Spirit. - -"Maxwell asked me to come into this meeting. Nothing in all my -ministerial life, Caxton, has so moved me as that meeting. I never -felt the Spirit's presence so powerfully. It was a meeting of -reminiscences and of the most loving fellowship. I was irresistibly -driven in thought back to the first years of Christianity. There was -something about all this that was apostolic in its simplicity and -Christ imitation. - -"I asked questions. One that seemed to arouse more interest than any -other was in regard to the extent of the Christian disciple's -sacrifice of personal property. Maxwell tells me that so far no one -has interpreted the spirit of Jesus in such a way as to abandon his -earthly possessions, give away of his wealth, or in any literal way -imitate the Christians of the order, for example, of St. Francis of -Assisi. It was the unanimous consent, however, that if any disciple -should feel that Jesus in his own particular case would do that, -there could be only one answer to the question. Maxwell admitted -that he was still to a certain degree uncertain as to Jesus' -probable action when it came to the details of household living, the -possession of wealth, the holding of certain luxuries. It is, -however, very evident that many of these disciples have repeatedly -carried their obedience to Jesus to the extreme limit, regardless of -financial loss. There is no lack of courage or consistency at this -point. - -"It is also true that some of the business men who took the pledge -have lost great sums of money in this imitation of Jesus, and many -have, like Alexander Powers, lost valuable positions owing to the -impossibility of doing what they had been accustomed to do and at -the same time what they felt Jesus would do in the same place. In -connection with these cases it is pleasant to record the fact that -many who have suffered in this way have been at once helped -financially by those who still have means. In this respect I think -it is true that these disciples have all things in common. Certainly -such scenes as I witnessed at the First Church at that after service -this morning I never saw in my church or in any other. I never -dreamed that such Christian fellowship could exist in this age of -the world. I was almost incredulous as to the witness of my own -senses. I still seem to be asking myself if this is the close of the -nineteenth century in America. - -"But now, dear friend, I come to the real cause of this letter, the -real heart of the whole question as the First Church of Raymond has -forced it upon me. Before the meeting closed today steps were taken -to secure the co-operation of all other Christian disciples in this -country. I think Maxwell took this step after long deliberation. He -said as much to me one day when we were discussing the effect of -this movement upon the church in general. - -"'Why,' he said, 'suppose that the church membership generally in -this country made this pledge and lived up to it! What a revolution -it would cause in Christendom! But why not? Is it any more than the -disciple ought to do? Has he followed Jesus, unless he is willing to -do this? Is the test of discipleship any less today than it was in -Jesus' time?' - -"I do not know all that preceded or followed his thought of what -ought to be done outside of Raymond, but the idea crystallized today -in a plan to secure the fellowship of all the Christians in America. -The churches, through their pastors, will be asked to form disciple -gatherings like the one in the First Church. Volunteers will be -called for in the great body of church members in the United States, -who will promise to do as Jesus would do. Maxwell spoke particularly -of the result of such general action on the saloon question. He is -terribly in earnest over this. He told me that there was no question -in his mind that the saloon would be beaten in Raymond at the -election now near at hand. If so, they could go on with some courage -to do the redemptive work begun by the evangelist and now taken up -by the disciples in his own church. If the saloon triumphs again -there will be a terrible and, as he thinks, unnecessary waste of -Christian sacrifice. But, however we differ on that point, he -convinced his church that the time had come for a fellowship with -other Christians. Surely, if the First Church could work such -changes in society and its surroundings, the church in general if -combining such a fellowship, not of creed but of conduct, ought to -stir the entire nation to a higher life and a new conception of -Christian following. - -"This is a grand idea, Caxton, but right here is where I find my -self hesitating. I do not deny that the Christian disciple ought to -follow Christ's steps as closely as these here in Raymond have tried -to do. But I cannot avoid asking what the result would be if I ask -my church in Chicago to do it. I am writing this after feeling the -solemn, profound touch of the Spirit's presence, and I confess to -you, old friend, that I cannot call up in my church a dozen -prominent business or professional men who would make this trial at -the risk of all they hold dear. Can you do any better in your -church? What are we to say? That the churches would not respond to -the call: 'Come and suffer?' Is our standard of Christian -discipleship a wrong one? Or are we possibly deceiving ourselves, -and would we be agreeably disappointed if we once asked our people -to take such a pledge faithfully? The actual results of the pledge -as obeyed here in Raymond are enough to make any pastor tremble, and -at the same time long with yearning that they might occur in his own -parish. Certainly never have I seen a church so signally blessed by -the Spirit as this one. But--am I myself ready to take this pledge? -I ask the question honestly, and I dread to face an honest answer. I -know well enough that I should have to change very much in my life -if I undertook to follow His steps so closely. I have called myself -a Christian for many years. For the past ten years I have enjoyed a -life that has had comparatively little suffering in it. I am, -honestly I say it, living at a long distance from municipal problems -and the life of the poor, the degraded and the abandoned. What would -the obedience to this pledge demand of me? I hesitate to answer. My -church is wealthy, full of well-to-do, satisfied people. The -standard of their discipleship is, I am aware, not of a nature to -respond to the call of suffering or personal loss. I say: 'I am -aware.' I may be mistaken. I may have erred in not stirring their -deeper life. Caxton, my friend, I have spoken my inmost thought to -you. Shall I go back to my people next Sunday and stand up before -them in my large city church and say: 'Let us follow Jesus closer; -let us walk in His steps where it will cost us something more than -it is costing us now; let us pledge not to do anything without first -asking: 'What would Jesus do?' If I should go before them with that -message, it would be a strange and startling one to them. But why? -Are we not ready to follow Him all the way? What is it to be a -follower of Jesus? What does it mean to imitate Him? What does it -mean to walk in His steps?" - -The Rev. Calvin Bruce, D. D., of the Nazareth Avenue Church, -Chicago, let his pen fall on the table. He had come to the parting -of the ways, and his question, he felt sure, was the question of -many and many a man in the ministry and in the church. He went to -his window and opened it. He was oppressed with the weight of his -convictions and he felt almost suffocated with the air in the room. -He wanted to see the stars and feel the breath of the world. - -The night was very still. The clock in the First Church was just -striking midnight. As it finished a clear, strong voice down in the -direction of the Rectangle came floating up to him as if borne on -radiant pinions. - -It was a voice of one of Gray's old converts, a night watchman at -the packing houses, who sometimes solaced his lonesome hours by a -verse or two of some familiar hymn: - - "Must Jesus bear the cross alone - And all the world go free? - No, there's a cross for every one, - And there's a cross for me." - -The Rev. Calvin Bruce turned away from the window and, after a -little hesitation, he kneeled. "What would Jesus do?" That was the -burden of his prayer. Never had he yielded himself so completely to -the Spirit's searching revealing of Jesus. He was on his knees a -long time. He retired and slept fitfully with many awakenings. He -rose before it was clear dawn, and threw open his window again. As -the light in the east grew stronger he repeated to himself: "What -would Jesus do? Shall I follow His steps?" - -The sun rose and flooded the city with its power. When shall the -dawn of a new discipleship usher in the conquering triumph of a -closer walk with Jesus? When shall Christendom tread more closely -the path he made? - -"It is the way the Master trod; Shall not the servant tread it -still?" - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-one - - - - - -"Master, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest." - -THE Saturday afternoon matinee at the Auditorium in Chicago was just -over and the usual crowd was struggling to get to its carriage -before any one else. The Auditorium attendant was shouting out the -numbers of different carriages and the carriage doors were slamming -as the horses were driven rapidly up to the curb, held there -impatiently by the drivers who had shivered long in the raw east -wind, and then let go to plunge for a few minutes into the river of -vehicles that tossed under the elevated railway and finally went -whirling off up the avenue. - -"Now then, 624," shouted the Auditorium attendant; "624!" he -repeated, and there dashed up to the curb a splendid span of black -horses attached to a carriage having the monogram, "C. R. S." in -gilt letters on the panel of the door. - -Two girls stepped out of the crowd towards the carriage. The older -one had entered and taken her seat and the attendant was still -holding the door open for the younger, who stood hesitating on the -curb. - -"Come, Felicia! What are you waiting for! I shall freeze to death!" -called the voice from the carriage. - -The girl outside of the carriage hastily unpinned a bunch of English -violets from her dress and handed them to a small boy who was -standing shivering on the edge of the sidewalk almost under the -horses' feet. He took them, with a look of astonishment and a "Thank -ye, lady!" and instantly buried a very grimy face in the bunch of -perfume. The girl stepped into the carriage, the door shut with the -incisive bang peculiar to well-made carriages of this sort, and in a -few moments the coachman was speeding the horses rapidly up one of -the boulevards. - -"You are always doing some queer thing or other, Felicia," said the -older girl as the carriage whirled on past the great residences -already brilliantly lighted. - -"Am I? What have I done that is queer now, Rose?" asked the other, -looking up suddenly and turning her head towards her sister. - -"Oh, giving those violets to that boy! He looked as if he needed a -good hot supper more than a bunch of violets. It's a wonder you -didn't invite him home with us. I shouldn't have been surprised if -you had. You are always doing such queer things." - -"Would it be queer to invite a boy like that to come to the house -and get a hot supper?" Felicia asked the question softly and almost -as if she were alone. - -"'Queer' isn't just the word, of course," replied Rose -indifferently. "It would be what Madam Blanc calls 'outre.' -Decidedly. Therefore you will please not invite him or others like -him to hot suppers because I suggested it. Oh, dear! I'm awfully -tired." - -She yawned, and Felicia silently looked out of the window in the -door. - -"The concert was stupid and the violinist was simply a bore. I don't -see how you could sit so still through it all," Rose exclaimed a -little impatiently. - -"I liked the music," answered Felicia quietly. - -"You like anything. I never saw a girl with so little critical -taste." - -Felicia colored slightly, but would not answer. Rose yawned again, -and then hummed a fragment of a popular song. Then she exclaimed -abruptly: "I'm sick of 'most everything. I hope the 'Shadows of -London' will be exciting tonight." - -"The 'Shadows of Chicago,'" murmured Felicia. "The 'Shadows of -Chicago!' The 'Shadows of London,' the play, the great drama with -its wonderful scenery, the sensation of New York for two months. You -know we have a box with the Delanos tonight." - -Felicia turned her face towards her sister. Her great brown eyes -were very expressive and not altogether free from a sparkle of -luminous heat. - -"And yet we never weep over the real thing on the actual stage of -life. What are the 'Shadows of London' on the stage to the shadows -of London or Chicago as they really exist? Why don't we get excited -over the facts as they are?" - -"Because the actual people are dirty and disagreeable and it's too -much bother, I suppose," replied Rose carelessly. "Felicia, you can -never reform the world. What's the use? We're not to blame for the -poverty and misery. There have always been rich and poor; and there -always will be. We ought to be thankful we're rich." - -"Suppose Christ had gone on that principle," replied Felicia, with -unusual persistence. "Do you remember Dr. Bruce's sermon on that -verse a few Sundays ago: 'For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus -Christ, that though he was rich yet for our sakes he became poor, -that ye through his poverty might become rich'?" - -"I remember it well enough," said Rose with some petulance, "and -didn't Dr. Bruce go on to say that there is no blame attached to -people who have wealth if they are kind and give to the needs of the -poor? And I am sure that he himself is pretty comfortably settled. -He never gives up his luxuries just because some people go hungry. -What good would it do if he did? I tell you, Felicia, there will -always be poor and rich in spite of all we can do. Ever since Rachel -Winslow has written about those queer doings in Raymond you have -upset the whole family. People can't live at that concert pitch all -the time. You see if Rachel doesn't give it up soon. It's a great -pity she doesn't come to Chicago and sing in the Auditorium -concerts. She has received an offer. I'm going to write and urge her -to come. I'm just dying to hear her sing." - -Felicia looked out of the window and was silent. The carriage rolled -on past two blocks of magnificent private residences and turned into -a wide driveway under a covered passage, and the sisters hurried -into the house. It was an elegant mansion of gray stone furnished -like a palace, every corner of it warm with the luxury of paintings, -sculpture, art and modern refinement. - -The owner of it all, Mr. Charles R. Sterling, stood before an open -grate fire smoking a cigar. He had made his money in grain -speculation and railroad ventures, and was reputed to be worth -something over two millions. His wife was a sister of Mrs. Winslow -of Raymond. She had been an invalid for several years. The two -girls, Rose and Felicia, were the only children. Rose was twenty-one -years old, fair, vivacious, educated in a fashionable college, just -entering society and already somewhat cynical and indifferent. A -very hard young lady to please, her father said, sometimes -playfully, sometimes sternly. Felicia was nineteen, with a tropical -beauty somewhat like her cousin, Rachel Winslow, with warm, generous -impulses just waking into Christian feeling, capable of all sorts of -expression, a puzzle to her father, a source of irritation to her -mother and with a great unsurveyed territory of thought and action -in herself, of which she was more than dimly conscious. There was -that in Felicia that would easily endure any condition in life if -only the liberty to act fully on her conscientious convictions were -granted her. - -"Here's a letter for you, Felicia," said Mr. Sterling, handing it to -her. - -Felicia sat down and instantly opened the letter, saying as she did -so: "It's from Rachel." - -"Well, what's the latest news from Raymond?" asked Mr. Sterling, -taking his cigar out of his mouth and looking at Felicia with -half-shut eyes, as if he were studying her. - -"Rachel says Dr. Bruce has been staying in Raymond for two Sundays -and has seemed very much interested in Mr. Maxwell's pledge in the -First Church." - -"What does Rachel say about herself?" asked Rose, who was lying on a -couch almost buried under elegant cushions. - -"She is still singing at the Rectangle. Since the tent meetings -closed she sings in an old hall until the new buildings which her -friend, Virginia Page, is putting up are completed. - -"I must write Rachel to come to Chicago and visit us. She ought not -to throw away her voice in that railroad town upon all those people -who don't appreciate her." - -Mr. Sterling lighted a new cigar and Rose exclaimed: "Rachel is so -queer. She might set Chicago wild with her voice if she sang in the -Auditorium. And there she goes on throwing it away on people who -don't know what they are hearing." - -"Rachel won't come here unless she can do it and keep her pledge at -the same time," said Felicia, after a pause. - -"What pledge?" Mr. Sterling asked the question and then added -hastily: "Oh, I know, yes! A very peculiar thing that. Alexander -Powers used to be a friend of mine. We learned telegraphy in the -same office. Made a great sensation when he resigned and handed over -that evidence to the Interstate Commerce Commission. And he's back -at his telegraph again. There have been queer doings in Raymond -during the past year. I wonder what Dr. Bruce thinks of it on the -whole. I must have a talk with him about it." - -"He is at home and will preach tomorrow," said Felicia. "Perhaps he -will tell us something about it." - -There was silence for a minute. Then Felicia said abruptly, as if -she had gone on with a spoken thought to some invisible hearer: "And -what if he should propose the same pledge to the Nazareth Avenue -Church?" - -"Who? What are you talking about?" asked her father a little -sharply. - -"About Dr. Bruce. I say, what if he should propose to our church -what Mr. Maxwell proposed to his, and ask for volunteers who would -pledge themselves to do everything after asking the question, 'What -would Jesus do?'" - -"There's no danger of it," said Rose, rising suddenly from the couch -as the tea-bell rang. - -"It's a very impracticable movement, to my mind," said Mr. Sterling -shortly. - -"I understand from Rachel's letter that the Raymond church is going -to make an attempt to extend the idea of the pledge to other -churches. If it succeeds it will certainly make great changes in the -churches and in people's lives," said Felicia. - -"Oh, well, let's have some tea first!" said Rose, walking into the -dining-room. Her father and Felicia followed, and the meal proceeded -in silence. Mrs. Sterling had her meals served in her room. Mr. -Sterling was preoccupied. He ate very little and excused himself -early, and although it was Saturday night, he remarked as he went -out that he should be down town on some special business. - -"Don't you think father looks very much disturbed lately?" asked -Felicia a little while after he had gone out. - -"Oh, I don't know! I hadn't noticed anything unusual," replied Rose. -After a silence she said: "Are you going to the play tonight, -Felicia? Mrs. Delano will be here at half past seven. I think you -ought to go. She will feel hurt if you refuse." - -"I'll go. I don't care about it. I can see shadows enough without -going to the play." - -"That's a doleful remark for a girl nineteen years old to make," -replied Rose. "But then you're queer in your ideas anyhow, Felicia. -If you are going up to see mother, tell her I'll run in after the -play if she is still awake." - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-two - - - - - -FELICIA started off to the play not very happy, but she was familiar -with that feeling, only sometimes she was more unhappy than at -others. Her feeling expressed itself tonight by a withdrawal into -herself. When the company was seated in the box and the curtain had -gone up Felicia was back of the others and remained for the evening -by herself. Mrs. Delano, as chaperon for half a dozen young ladies, -understood Felicia well enough to know that she was "queer," as Rose -so often said, and she made no attempt to draw her out of her -corner. And so the girl really experienced that night by herself one -of the feelings that added to the momentum that was increasing the -coming on of her great crisis. - -The play was an English melodrama, full of startling situations, -realistic scenery and unexpected climaxes. There was one scene in -the third act that impressed even Rose Sterling. - -It was midnight on Blackfriars Bridge. The Thames flowed dark and -forbidden below. St. Paul's rose through the dim light imposing, its -dome seeming to float above the buildings surrounding it. The figure -of a child came upon the bridge and stood there for a moment peering -about as if looking for some one. Several persons were crossing the -bridge, but in one of the recesses about midway of the river a woman -stood, leaning out over the parapet, with a strained agony of face -and figure that told plainly of her intention. Just as she was -stealthily mounting the parapet to throw herself into the river, the -child caught sight of her, ran forward with a shrill cry more animal -than human, and seizing the woman's dress dragged back upon it with -all her little strength. Then there came suddenly upon the scene two -other characters who had already figured in the play, a tall, -handsome, athletic gentleman dressed in the fashion, attended by a -slim-figured lad who was as refined in dress and appearance as the -little girl clinging to her mother, who was mournfully hideous in -her rags and repulsive poverty. These two, the gentleman and the -lad, prevented the attempted suicide, and after a tableau on the -bridge where the audience learned that the man and woman were -brother and sister, the scene was transferred to the interior of one -of the slum tenements in the East Side of London. Here the scene -painter and carpenter had done their utmost to produce an exact copy -of a famous court and alley well known to the poor creatures who -make up a part of the outcast London humanity. The rags, the -crowding, the vileness, the broken furniture, the horrible animal -existence forced upon creatures made in God's image were so -skilfully shown in this scene that more than one elegant woman in -the theatre, seated like Rose Sterling in a sumptuous box surrounded -with silk hangings and velvet covered railing, caught herself -shrinking back a little as if contamination were possible from the -nearness of this piece of scenery. It was almost too realistic, and -yet it had a horrible fascination for Felicia as she sat there -alone, buried back in a cushioned seat and absorbed in thoughts that -went far beyond the dialogue on the stage. - -From the tenement scene the play shifted to the interior of a -nobleman's palace, and almost a sigh of relief went up all over the -house at the sight of the accustomed luxury of the upper classes. -The contrast was startling. It was brought about by a clever piece -of staging that allowed only a few moments to elapse between the -slum and the palace scene. The dialogue went on, the actors came and -went in their various roles, but upon Felicia the play made but one -distinct impression. In realty the scenes on the bridge and in the -slums were only incidents in the story of the play, but Felicia -found herself living those scenes over and over. She had never -philosophized about the causes of human misery, she was not old -enough she had not the temperament that philosophizes. But she felt -intensely, and this was not the first time she had felt the contrast -thrust into her feeling between the upper and the lower conditions -of human life. It had been growing upon her until it had made her -what Rose called "queer," and other people in her circle of wealthy -acquaintances called very unusual. It was simply the human problem -in its extreme of riches and poverty, its refinement and its -vileness, that was, in spite of her unconscious attempts to struggle -against the facts, burning into her life the impression that would -in the end either transform her into a woman of rare love and -self-sacrifice for the world, or a miserable enigma to herself and -all who knew her. - -"Come, Felicia, aren't you going home?" said Rose. The play was -over, the curtain down, and people were going noisily out, laughing -and gossiping as if "The Shadows of London" were simply good -diversion, as they were, put on the stage so effectively. - -Felicia rose and went out with the rest quietly, and with the -absorbed feeling that had actually left her in her seat oblivious of -the play's ending. She was never absent-minded, but often thought -herself into a condition that left her alone in the midst of a -crowd. - -"Well, what did you think of it?" asked Rose when the sisters had -reached home and were in the drawing-room. Rose really had -considerable respect for Felicia's judgment of a play. - -"I thought it was a pretty fair picture of real life." - -"I mean the acting," said Rose, annoyed. - -"The bridge scene was well acted, especially the woman's part. I -thought the man overdid the sentiment a little." - -"Did you? I enjoyed that. And wasn't the scene between the two -cousins funny when they first learned they were related? But the -slum scene was horrible. I think they ought not to show such things -in a play. They are too painful." - -"They must be painful in real life, too," replied Felicia. - -"Yes, but we don't have to look at the real thing. It's bad enough -at the theatre where we pay for it." - -Rose went into the dining-room and began to eat from a plate of -fruit and cakes on the sideboard. - -"Are you going up to see mother?" asked Felicia after a while. She -had remained in front of the drawing-room fireplace. - -"No," replied Rose from the other room. "I won't trouble her -tonight. If you go in tell her I am too tired to be agreeable." - -So Felicia turned into her mother's room, as she went up the great -staircase and down the upper hall. The light was burning there, and -the servant who always waited on Mrs. Sterling was beckoning Felicia -to come in. - -"Tell Clara to go out," exclaimed Mrs. Sterling as Felicia came up -to the bed. - -Felicia was surprised, but she did as her mother bade her, and then -inquired how she was feeling. - -"Felicia," said her mother, "can you pray?" - -The question was so unlike any her mother had ever asked before that -she was startled. But she answered: "Why, yes, mother. Why do you -ask such a question?" - -"Felicia, I am frightened. Your father--I have had such strange -fears about him all day. Something is wrong with him. I want you to -pray--." - -"Now, here, mother?" - -"Yes. Pray, Felicia." - -Felicia reached out her hand and took her mother's. It was -trembling. Mrs. Sterling had never shown such tenderness for her -younger daughter, and her strange demand now was the first real sign -of any confidence in Felicia's character. - -The girl kneeled, still holding her mother's trembling hand, and -prayed. It is doubtful if she had ever prayed aloud before. She must -have said in her prayer the words that her mother needed, for when -it was silent in the room the invalid was weeping softly and her -nervous tension was over. - -Felicia stayed some time. When she was assured that her mother would -not need her any longer she rose to go. - -"Good night, mother. You must let Clara call me if you feel badly in -the night." - -"I feel better now." Then as Felicia was moving away, Mrs. Sterling -said: "Won't you kiss me, Felicia?" - -Felicia went back and bent over her mother. The kiss was almost as -strange to her as the prayer had been. When Felicia went out of the -room her cheeks were wet with tears. She had not often cried since -she was a little child. - -Sunday morning at the Sterling mansion was generally very quiet. The -girls usually went to church at eleven o'clock service. Mr. Sterling -was not a member but a heavy contributor, and he generally went to -church in the morning. This time he did not come down to breakfast, -and finally sent word by a servant that he did not feel well enough -to go out. So Rose and Felicia drove up to the door of the Nazareth -Avenue Church and entered the family pew alone. - -When Dr. Bruce walked out of the room at the rear of the platform -and went up to the pulpit to open the Bible as his custom was, those -who knew him best did not detect anything unusual in his manner or -his expression. He proceeded with the service as usual. He was calm -and his voice was steady and firm. His prayer was the first -intimation the people had of anything new or strange in the service. -It is safe to say that the Nazareth Avenue Church had not heard Dr. -Bruce offer such a prayer before during the twelve years he had been -pastor there. How would a minister be likely to pray who had come -out of a revolution in Christian feeling that had completely changed -his definition of what was meant by following Jesus? No one in -Nazareth Avenue Church had any idea that the Rev. Calvin Bruce, D. -D., the dignified, cultured, refined Doctor of Divinity, had within -a few days been crying like a little child on his knees, asking for -strength and courage and Christlikeness to speak his Sunday message; -and yet the prayer was an unconscious involuntary disclosure of his -soul's experience such as the Nazareth Avenue people had seldom -heard, and never before from that pulpit. - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-three - - - - - -"I AM just back from a visit to Raymond," Dr. Bruce began, "and I -want to tell you something of my impressions of the movement there." - -He paused and his look went out over his people with yearning for -them and at the same time with a great uncertainty at his heart. How -many of his rich, fashionable, refined, luxury-loving members would -understand the nature of the appeal he was soon to make to them? He -was altogether in the dark as to that. Nevertheless he had been -through his desert, and had come out of it ready to suffer. He went -on now after that brief pause and told them the story of his stay in -Raymond. The people already knew something of that experiment in the -First Church. The whole country had watched the progress of the -pledge as it had become history in so many lives. Mr. Maxwell had at -last decided that the time had come to seek the fellowship of other -churches throughout the country. The new discipleship in Raymond had -proved to be so valuable in its results that he wished the churches -in general to share with the disciples in Raymond. Already there had -begun a volunteer movement in many churches throughout the country, -acting on their own desire to walk closer in the steps of Jesus. The -Christian Endeavor Society had, with enthusiasm, in many churches -taken the pledge to do as Jesus would do, and the result was already -marked in a deeper spiritual life and a power in church influence -that was like a new birth for the members. - -All this Dr. Bruce told his people simply and with a personal -interest that evidently led the way to the announcement which now -followed. Felicia had listened to every word with strained -attention. She sat there by the side of Rose, in contrast like fire -beside snow, although even Rose was alert and as excited as she -could be. - -"Dear friends," he said, and for the first time since his prayer the -emotion of the occasion was revealed in his voice and gesture, "I am -going to ask that Nazareth Avenue Church take the same pledge that -Raymond Church has taken. I know what this will mean to you and me. -It will mean the complete change of very many habits. It will mean, -possibly, social loss. It will mean very probably, in many cases, -loss of money. It will mean suffering. It will mean what following -Jesus meant in the first century, and then it meant suffering, loss, -hardship, separation from everything un-Christian. But what does -following Jesus mean? The test of discipleship is the same now as -then. Those of us who volunteer in this church to do as Jesus would -do, simply promise to walk in His steps as He gave us commandment." - -Again he paused, and now the result of his announcement was plainly -visible in the stir that went up over the, congregation. He added in -a quiet voice that all who volunteered to make the pledge to do as -Jesus would do, were asked to remain after the morning service. - -Instantly he proceeded with his sermon. His text was, "Master, I -will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest." It was a sermon that -touched the deep springs of conduct; it was a revelation to the -people of the definition their pastor had been learning; it took -them back to the first century of Christianity; above all, it -stirred them below the conventional thought of years as to the -meaning and purpose of church membership. It was such a sermon as a -man can preach once in a lifetime, and with enough in it for people -to live on all through the rest of their lifetime. - -The service closed in a hush that was slowly broken. People rose -here and there, a few at a time. There was a reluctance in the -movements of some that was very striking. Rose, however, walked -straight out of the pew, and as she reached the aisle she turned her -head and beckoned to Felicia. By that time the congregation was -rising all over the church. "I am going to stay," she said, and Rose -had heard her speak in the same manner on other occasions, and knew -that her resolve could not be changed. Nevertheless she went back -into the pew two or three steps and faced her. - -"Felicia," she whispered, and there was a flush of anger on her -cheeks, "this is folly. What can you do? You will bring some -disgrace on the family. What will father say? Come!" - -Felicia looked at her but did not answer at once. Her lips were -moving with a petition that came from the depth of feeling that -measured a new life for her. She shocked her head. - -"No, I am going to stay. I shall take the pledge. I am ready to obey -it. You do not know why I am doing this." - -Rose gave her one look and then turned and went out of the pew, and -down the aisle. She did not even stop to talk with her -acquaintances. Mrs. Delano was going out of the church just as Rose -stepped into the vestibule. - -"So you are not going to join Dr. Bruce's volunteer company?" Mrs. -Delano asked, in a queer tone that made Rose redden. - -"No, are you? It is simply absurd. I have always regarded that -Raymond movement as fanatical. You know cousin Rachel keeps us -posted about it." - -"Yes, I understand it is resulting in a great deal of hardship in -many cases. For my part, I believe Dr. Bruce has simply provoked -disturbance here. It will result in splitting our church. You see if -it isn't so. There are scores of people in the church who are so -situated that they can't take such a pledge and keep it. I am one of -them," added Mrs. Delano as she went out with Rose. - -When Rose reached home, her father was standing in his usual -attitude before the open fireplace, smoking a cigar. - -"Where is Felicia?" he asked as Rose came in. - -"She stayed to an after-meeting," replied Rose shortly. She threw -off her wraps and was going upstairs when Mr. Sterling called after -her. - -"An after-meeting? What do you mean?" - -"Dr. Bruce asked the church to take the Raymond pledge." - -Mr. Sterling took his cigar out of his mouth and twirled it -nervously between his fingers. - -"I didn't expect that of Dr. Bruce. Did many of the members stay?" - -"I don't know. I didn't," replied Rose, and she went upstairs -leaving her father standing in the drawing-room. - -After a few moments he went to the window and stood there looking -out at the people driving on the boulevard. His cigar had gone out, -but he still fingered it nervously. Then he turned from the window -and walked up and down the room. A servant stepped across the hall -and announced dinner and he told her to wait for Felicia. Rose came -downstairs and went into the library. And still Mr. Sterling paced -the drawing-room restlessly. - -He had finally wearied of the walking apparently, and throwing -himself into a chair was brooding over something deeply when Felicia -came in. - -He rose and faced her. Felicia was evidently very much moved by the -meeting from which she had just come. At the same time she did not -wish to talk too much about it. Just as she entered the -drawing-room, Rose came in from the library. - -"How many stayed?" she asked. Rose was curious. At the same time she -was skeptical of the whole movement in Raymond. - -"About a hundred," replied Felicia gravely. Mr. Sterling looked -surprised. Felicia was going out of the room, but he called to her: -"Do you really mean to keep the pledge?" he asked. - -Felicia colored. Over her face and neck the warm blood flowed and -she answered, "You would not ask such a question, father, if you had -been at the meeting." She lingered a moment in the room, then asked -to be excused from dinner for a while and went up to see her mother. - -No one but they two ever knew what that interview between Felicia -and her mother was. It is certain that she must have told her mother -something of the spiritual power that had awed every person present -in the company of disciples who faced Dr. Bruce in that meeting -after the morning service. It is also certain that Felicia had never -before known such an experience, and would never have thought of -sharing it with her mother if it had not been for the prayer the -evening before. Another fact is also known of Felicia's experience -at this time. When she finally joined her father and Rose at the -table she seemed unable to tell them much about the meeting. There -was a reluctance to speak of it as one might hesitate to attempt a -description of a wonderful sunset to a person who never talked about -anything but the weather. - -When that Sunday in the Sterling mansion was drawing to a close and -the soft, warm lights throughout the dwelling were glowing through -the great windows, in a corner of her room, where the light was -obscure, Felicia kneeled, and when she raised her face and turned it -towards the light, it was the face of a woman who had already -defined for herself the greatest issues of earthly life. - -That same evening, after the Sunday evening service, Dr. Bruce was -talking over the events of the day with his wife. They were of one -heart and mind in the matter, and faced their new future with all -the faith and courage of new disciples. Neither was deceived as to -the probable results of the pledge to themselves or to the church. - -They had been talking but a little while when the bell rang and Dr. -Bruce going to the door exclaimed, as he opened it: "It is you, -Edward! Come in." - -There came into the hall a commanding figure. The Bishop was of -extraordinary height and breadth of shoulder, but of such good -proportions that there was no thought of ungainly or even of unusual -size. The impression the Bishop made on strangers was, first, that -of great health, and then of great affection. - -He came into the parlor and greeted Mrs. Bruce, who after a few -moments was called out of the room, leaving the two men together. -The Bishop sat in a deep, easy chair before the open fire. There was -just enough dampness in the early spring of the year to make an open -fire pleasant. - -"Calvin, you have taken a very serious step today," he finally said, -lifting his large dark eyes to his old college classmate's face. "I -heard of it this afternoon. I could not resist the desire to see you -about it tonight." - -"I'm glad you came." Dr. Bruce laid a hand on the Bishop's shoulder. -"You understand what this means, Edward?" - -"I think I do. Yes, I am sure." The Bishop spoke very slowly and -thoughtfully. He sat with his hands clasped together. Over his face, -marked with lines of consecration and service and the love of men, a -shadow crept, a shadow not caused by the firelight. Once more he -lifted his eyes toward his old friend. - -"Calvin, we have always understood each other. Ever since our paths -led us in different ways in church life we have walked together in -Christian fellowship--." - -"It is true," replied Dr. Bruce with an emotion he made no attempt -to conceal or subdue. "Thank God for it. I prize your fellowship -more than any other man's. I have always known what it meant, though -it has always been more than I deserve." - -The Bishop looked affectionately at his friend. But the shadow still -rested on his face. After a pause he spoke again: "The new -discipleship means a crisis for you in your work. If you keep this -pledge to do all things as Jesus would do--as I know you will--it -requires no prophet to predict some remarkable changes in your -parish." The Bishop looked wistfully at his friend and then -continued: "In fact, I do not see how a perfect upheaval of -Christianity, as we now know it, can be prevented if the ministers -and churches generally take the Raymond pledge and live it out." He -paused as if he were waiting for his friend to say something, to ask -some question. But Bruce did not know of the fire that was burning -in the Bishop's heart over the very question that Maxwell and -himself had fought out. - -"Now, in my church, for instance," continued the Bishop, "it would -be rather a difficult matter, I fear, to find very many people who -would take a pledge like that and live up to it. Martyrdom is a lost -art with us. Our Christianity loves its ease and comfort too well to -take up anything so rough and heavy as a cross. And yet what does -following Jesus mean? What is it to walk in His steps?" - -The Bishop was soliloquizing now and it is doubtful if he thought, -for the moment, of his friend's presence. For the first time there -flashed into Dr. Bruce's mind a suspicion of the truth. What if the -Bishop would throw the weight of his great influence on the side of -the Raymond movement? He had the following of the most aristocratic, -wealthy, fashionable people, not only in Chicago, but in several -large cities. What if the Bishop should join this new discipleship! - -The thought was about to be followed by the word. Dr. Bruce had -reached out his hand and with the familiarity of lifelong friendship -had placed it on the Bishop's shoulder and was about to ask a very -important question, when they were both startled by the violent -ringing of the bell. Mrs. Bruce had gone to the door and was talking -with some one in the hall. There was a loud exclamation and then, as -the Bishop rose and Bruce was stepping toward the curtain that hung -before the entrance to the parlor, Mrs. Bruce pushed it aside. Her -face was white and she was trembling. - -"O Calvin! Such terrible news! Mr. Sterling--oh, I cannot tell it! -What a blow to those girls!" "What is it?" Mr. Bruce advanced with -the Bishop into the hall and confronted the messenger, a servant -from the Sterlings. The man was without his hat and had evidently -run over with the news, as Dr. Bruce lived nearest of any intimate -friends of the family. - -"Mr. Sterling shot himself, sir, a few minutes ago. He killed -himself in his bed-room. Mrs. Sterling--" - -"I will go right over, Edward. Will you go with me? The Sterlings -are old friends of yours."' - -The Bishop was very pale, but calm as always. He looked his friend -in the face and answered: "Aye, Calvin, I will go with you not only -to this house of death, but also the whole way of human sin and -sorrow, please God." - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-four - - - - - -These are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth. - -WHEN Dr. Bruce and the Bishop entered the Sterling mansion -everything in the usually well appointed household was in the -greatest confusion and terror. The great rooms downstairs were -empty, but overhead were hurried footsteps and confused noises. One -of the servants ran down the grand staircase with a look of horror -on her face just as the Bishop and Dr. Bruce were starting to go up. - -"Miss Felicia is with Mrs. Sterling," the servant stammered in -answer to a question, and then burst into a hysterical cry and ran -through the drawing-room and out of doors. - -At the top of the staircase the two men were met by Felicia. She -walked up to Dr. Bruce at once and put both hands in his. The Bishop -then laid his hand on her head and the three stood there a moment in -perfect silence. The Bishop had known Felicia since she was a little -child. He was the first to break the silence. - -"The God of all mercy be with you, Felicia, in this dark hour. Your -mother--" - -The Bishop hesitated. Out of the buried past he had, during his -hurried passage from his friend's to this house of death, -irresistibly drawn the one tender romance of his young manhood. Not -even Bruce knew that. But there had been a time when the Bishop had -offered the incense of a singularly undivided affection upon the -altar of his youth to the beautiful Camilla Rolfe, and she had -chosen between him and the millionaire. The Bishop carried no -bitterness with his memory; but it was still a memory. - -For answer to the Bishop's unfinished query, Felicia turned and went -back into her mother's room. She had not said a word yet, but both -men were struck with her wonderful calm. She returned to the hall -door and beckoned to them, and the two ministers, with a feeling -that they were about to behold something very unusual, entered. - -Rose lay with her arms outstretched upon the bed. Clara, the nurse, -sat with her head covered, sobbing in spasms of terror. And Mrs. -Sterling with "the light that never was on sea or land" luminous on -her face, lay there so still that even the Bishop was deceived at -first. Then, as the great truth broke upon him and Dr. Bruce, he -staggered, and the sharp agony of the old wound shot through him. It -passed, and left him standing there in that chamber of death with -the eternal calmness and strength that the children of God have a -right to possess. And right well he used that calmness and strength -in the days that followed. - -The next moment the house below was in a tumult. Almost at the same -time the doctor who had been sent for at once, but lived some -distance away, came in, together with police officers, who had been -summoned by frightened servants. With them were four or five -newspaper correspondents and several neighbors. Dr. Bruce and the -Bishop met this miscellaneous crowd at the head of the stairs and -succeeded in excluding all except those whose presence was -necessary. With these the two friends learned all the facts ever -known about the "Sterling tragedy," as the papers in their -sensational accounts next day called it. - -Mr. Sterling had gone into his room that evening about nine o'clock -and that was the last seen of him until, in half an hour, a shot was -heard in the room, and a servant who was in the hall ran into the -room and found him dead on the floor, killed by his own hand. -Felicia at the time was sitting by her mother. Rose was reading in -the library. She ran upstairs, saw her father as he was being lifted -upon the couch by the servants, and then ran screaming into her -mother's room, where she flung herself down at the foot of the bed -in a swoon. Mrs. Sterling had at first fainted at the shock, then -rallied with a wonderful swiftness and sent for Dr. Bruce. She had -then insisted on seeing her husband. In spite of Felicia's efforts, -she had compelled Clara to support her while she crossed the hall -and entered the room where her husband lay. She had looked upon him -with a tearless face, had gone back to her own room, was laid on her -bed, and as Dr. Bruce and the Bishop entered the house she, with a -prayer of forgiveness for herself and for her husband on her -quivering lips, had died, with Felicia bending over her and Rose -still lying senseless at her feet. - -So great and swift had been the entrance of grim Death into that -palace of luxury that Sunday night! But the full cause of his coming -was not learned until the facts in regard to Mr. Sterling's business -affairs were finally disclosed. - -Then it was learned that for some time he had been facing financial -ruin owing to certain speculations that had in a month's time swept -his supposed wealth into complete destruction. With the cunning and -desperation of a man who battles for his very life when he saw his -money, which was all the life he ever valued, slipping from him, he -had put off the evil day to the last moment. Sunday afternoon, -however, he had received news that proved to him beyond a doubt the -fact of his utter ruin. The very house that he called his, the -chairs in which he sat, his carriage, the dishes from which he ate, -had all been bought with money for which he himself had never really -done an honest stroke of pure labor. - -It had all rested on a tissue of deceit and speculation that had no -foundation in real values. He knew that fact better than any one -else, but he had hoped, with the hope such men always have, that the -same methods that brought him the money would also prevent the loss. -He had been deceived in this as many others have been. As soon as -the truth that he was practically a beggar had dawned upon him, he -saw no escape from suicide. It was the irresistible result of such a -life as he had lived. He had made money his god. As soon as that god -was gone out of his little world there was nothing more to worship; -and when a man's object of worship is gone he has no more to live -for. Thus died the great millionaire, Charles R. Sterling. And, -verily, he died as the fool dieth, for what is the gain or the loss -of money compared with the unsearchable riches of eternal life which -are beyond the reach of speculation, loss or change? - -Mrs. Sterling's death was the result of the shock. She had not been -taken into her husband's confidence for years, but she knew that the -source of his wealth was precarious. Her life for several years had -been a death in life. The Rolfes always gave an impression that they -could endure more disaster unmoved than any one else. Mrs. Sterling -illustrated the old family tradition when she was carried into the -room where her husband lay. But the feeble tenement could not hold -the spirit and it gave up the ghost, torn and weakened by long years -of suffering and disappointment. - -The effect of this triple blow, the death of father and mother, and -the loss of property, was instantly apparent in the sisters. The -horror of events stupefied Rose for weeks. She lay unmoved by -sympathy or any effort to rally. She did not seem yet to realize -that the money which had been so large a part of her very existence -was gone. Even when she was told that she and Felicia must leave the -house and be dependent on relatives and friends, she did not seem to -understand what it meant. - -Felicia, however, was fully conscious of the facts. She knew just -what had happened and why. She was talking over her future plans -with her cousin Rachel a few days after the funerals. Mrs. Winslow -and Rachel had left Raymond and come to Chicago at once as soon as -the terrible news had reached them, and with other friends of the -family were planning for the future of Rose and Felicia. - -"Felicia, you and Rose must come to Raymond with us. That is -settled. Mother will not hear to any other plan at present," Rachel -had said, while her beautiful face glowed with love for her cousin, -a love that had deepened day by day, and was intensified by the -knowledge that they both belonged to the new discipleship. - -"Unless I can find something to do here," answered Felicia. She -looked wistfully at Rachel, and Rachel said gently: - -"What could you do, dear?" - -"Nothing. I was never taught to do anything except a little music, -and I do not know enough about it to teach it or earn my living at -it. I have learned to cook a little," Felicia added with a slight -smile. - -"Then you can cook for us. Mother is always having trouble with her -kitchen," said Rachel, understanding well enough she was now -dependent for her very food and shelter upon the kindness of family -friends. It is true the girls received a little something out of the -wreck of their father's fortune, but with a speculator's mad folly -he had managed to involve both his wife's and his children's portion -in the common ruin. - -"Can I? Can I?" Felicia responded to Rachel's proposition as if it -were to be considered seriously. "I am ready to do anything -honorable to make my living and that of Rose. Poor Rose! She will -never be able to get over the shock of our trouble." - -"We will arrange the details when we get to Raymond," Rachel said, -smiling through her tears at Felicia's eager willingness to care for -herself. - -So in a few weeks Rose and Felicia found themselves a part of the -Winslow family in Raymond. It was a bitter experience for Rose, but -there was nothing else for her to do and she accepted the -inevitable, brooding over the great change in her life and in many -ways adding to the burden of Felicia and her cousin Rachel. - -Felicia at once found herself in an atmosphere of discipleship that -was like heaven to her in its revelation of companionship. It is -true that Mrs. Winslow was not in sympathy with the course that -Rachel was taking, but the remarkable events in Raymond since the -pledge was taken were too powerful in their results not to impress -even such a woman as Mrs. Winslow. With Rachel, Felicia found a -perfect fellowship. She at once found a part to take in the new work -at the Rectangle. In the spirit of her new life she insisted upon -helping in the housework at her aunt's, and in a short time -demonstrated her ability as a cook so clearly that Virginia -suggested that she take charge of the cooking at the Rectangle. - -Felicia entered upon this work with the keenest pleasure. For the -first time in her life she had the delight of doing something of -value for the happiness of others. Her resolve to do everything -after asking, "What would Jesus do?" touched her deepest nature. She -began to develop and strengthen wonderfully. Even Mrs. Winslow was -obliged to acknowledge the great usefulness and beauty of Felicia's -character. The aunt looked with astonishment upon her niece, this -city-bred girl, reared in the greatest luxury, the daughter of a -millionaire, now walking around in her kitchen, her arms covered -with flour and occasionally a streak of it on her nose, for Felicia -at first had a habit of rubbing her nose forgetfully when she was -trying to remember some recipe, mixing various dishes with the -greatest interest in their results, washing up pans and kettles and -doing the ordinary work of a servant in the Winslow kitchen and at -the rooms at the Rectangle Settlement. At first Mrs. Winslow -remonstrated. - -"Felicia, it is not your place to be out here doing this common -work. I cannot allow it." - -"Why, Aunt? Don't you like the muffins I made this morning?" Felicia -would ask meekly, but with a hidden smile, knowing her aunt's -weakness for that kind of muffin. - -"They were beautiful, Felicia. But it does not seem right for you to -be doing such work for us." - -"Why not? What else can I do?" - -Her aunt looked at her thoughtfully, noting her remarkable beauty of -face and expression. - -"You do not always intend to do this kind of work, Felicia?" - -"Maybe I shall. I have had a dream of opening an ideal cook shop in -Chicago or some large city and going around to the poor families in -some slum district like the Rectangle, teaching the mothers how to -prepare food properly. I remember hearing Dr. Bruce say once that he -believed one of the great miseries of comparative poverty consisted -in poor food. He even went so far as to say that he thought some -kinds of crime could be traced to soggy biscuit and tough beefsteak. -I'm sure I would be able to make a living for Rose and myself and at -the same time help others." - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-five - - - - - -THREE months had gone by since the Sunday morning when Dr. Bruce -came into his pulpit with the message of the new discipleship. They -were three months of great excitement in Nazareth Avenue Church. -Never before had Rev. Calvin Bruce realized how deep the feeling of -his members flowed. He humbly confessed that the appeal he had made -met with an unexpected response from men and women who, like -Felicia, were hungry for something in their lives that the -conventional type of church membership and fellowship had failed to -give them. - -But Dr. Bruce was not yet satisfied for himself. He cannot tell what -his feeling was or what led to the movement he finally made, to the -great astonishment of all who knew him, better than by relating a -conversation between him and the Bishop at this time in the history -of the pledge in Nazareth Avenue Church. The two friends were as -before in Dr. Bruce's house, seated in his study. - -"You know what I have come in this evening for?" the Bishop was -saying after the friends had been talking some time about the -results of the pledge with the Nazareth Avenue people. - -Dr. Bruce looked over at the Bishop and shook his head. - -"I have come to confess that I have not yet kept my promise to walk -in His steps in the way that I believe I shall be obliged to if I -satisfy my thought of what it means to walk in His steps." - -Dr. Bruce had risen and was pacing his study. The Bishop remained in -the deep easy chair with his hands clasped, but his eye burned with -the blow that belonged to him before he made some great resolve. - -"Edward," Dr. Bruce spoke abruptly, "I have not yet been able to -satisfy myself, either, in obeying my promise. But I have at last -decided on my course. In order to follow it I shall be obliged to -resign from Nazareth Avenue Church." - -"I knew you would," replied the Bishop quietly. "And I came in this -evening to say that I shall be obliged to do the same thing with my -charge." - -Dr. Bruce turned and walked up to his friend. They were both -laboring under a repressed excitement. - -"Is it necessary in your case?" asked Bruce. - -"Yes. Let me state my reasons. Probably they are the same as yours. -In fact, I am sure they are." The Bishop paused a moment, then went -on with increasing feeling: - -"Calvin, you know how many years I have been doing the work of my -position, and you know something of the responsibility and care of -it. I do not mean to say that my life has been free from -burden-bearing or sorrow. But I have certainly led what the poor and -desperate of this sinful city would call a very comfortable, yes, a -very luxurious life. I have had a beautiful house to live in, the -most expensive food, clothing and physical pleasures. I have been -able to go abroad at least a dozen times, and have enjoyed for years -the beautiful companionship of art and letters and music and all the -rest, of the very best. I have never known what it meant to be -without money or its equivalent. And I have been unable to silence -the question of late: 'What have I suffered for the sake of Christ?' -Paul was told what great things he must suffer for the sake of his -Lord. Maxwell's position at Raymond is well taken when he insists -that to walk in the steps of Christ means to suffer. Where has my -suffering come in? The petty trials and annoyances of my clerical -life are not worth mentioning as sorrows or sufferings. Compared -with Paul or any of the Christian martyrs or early disciples I have -lived a luxurious, sinful life, full of ease and pleasure. I cannot -endure this any longer. I have that within me which of late rises in -overwhelming condemnation of such a following of Jesus. I have not -been walking in His steps. Under the present system of church and -social life I see no escape from this condemnation except to give -the most of my life personally to the actual physical and soul needs -of the wretched people in the worst part of this city." - -The Bishop had risen now and walked over to the window. The street -in front of the house was as light as day, and he looked out at the -crowds passing, then turned and with a passionate utterance that -showed how deep the volcanic fire in him burned, he exclaimed: - -"Calvin, this is a terrible city in which we live! Its misery, its -sin, its selfishness, appall my heart. And I have struggled for -years with the sickening dread of the time when I should be forced -to leave the pleasant luxury of my official position to put my life -into contact with the modern paganism of this century. The awful -condition of the girls in some great business places, the brutal -selfishness of the insolent society fashion and wealth that ignores -all the sorrow of the city, the fearful curse of the drink and -gambling hell, the wail of the unemployed, the hatred of the church -by countless men who see in it only great piles of costly stone and -upholstered furniture and the minister as a luxurious idler, all the -vast tumult of this vast torrent of humanity with its false and its -true ideas, its exaggeration of evils in the church and its -bitterness and shame that are the result of many complex causes, all -this as a total fact in its contrast with the easy, comfortable life -I have lived, fills me more and more with a sense of mingled terror -and self accusation. I have heard the words of Jesus many times -lately: 'Inasmuch as ye did it not unto one of these least My -brethren, ye did it not unto Me.' And when have I personally visited -the prisoner or the desperate or the sinful in any way that has -actually caused me suffering? Rather, I have followed the -conventional soft habits of my position and have lived in the -society of the rich, refined, aristocratic members of my -congregations. Where has the suffering come in? What have I suffered -for Jesus' sake? Do you know, Calvin," he turned abruptly toward his -friend, "I have been tempted of late to lash myself with a scourge. -If I had lived in Martin Luther's time I should have bared my back -to a self-inflicted torture." - -Dr. Bruce was very pale. Never had he seen the Bishop or heard him -when under the influence of such a passion. There was a sudden -silence in the room. The Bishop sat down again and bowed his head. - -Dr. Bruce spoke at last: "Edward, I do not need to say that you have -expressed my feelings also. I have been in a similar position for -years. My life has been one of comparative luxury. I do not, of -course, mean to say that I have not had trials and discouragements -and burdens in my church ministry. But I cannot say that I have -suffered any for Jesus. That verse in Peter constantly haunts me: -'Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that ye should -follow His steps.' I have lived in luxury. I do not know what it -means to want. I also have had my leisure for travel and beautiful -companionship. I have been surrounded by the soft, easy comforts of -civilization. The sin and misery of this great city have beaten like -waves against the stone walls of my church and of this house in -which I live, and I have hardly heeded them, the walls have been so -thick. I have reached a point where I cannot endure this any longer. -I am not condemning the Church. I love her. I am not forsaking the -Church. I believe in her mission and have no desire to destroy. -Least of all, in the step I am about to take do I desire to be -charged with abandoning the Christian fellowship. But I feel that I -must resign my place as pastor of Nazareth Church in order to -satisfy myself that I am walking as I ought to walk in His steps. In -this action I judge no other minister and pass no criticism on -others' discipleship. But I feel as you do. Into a close contact -with the sin and shame and degradation of this great city I must -come personally. And I know that to do that I must sever my -immediate connection with Nazareth Avenue Church. I do not see any -other way for myself to suffer for His sake as I feel that I ought -to suffer." - -Again that sudden silence fell over those two men. It was no -ordinary action they were deciding. They had both reached the same -conclusion by the same reasoning, and they were too thoughtful, too -well accustomed to the measuring of conduct, to underestimate the -seriousness of their position. - -"What is your plan?" The Bishop at last spoke gently, looking with -the smile that always beautified his face. The Bishop's face grew in -glory now every day. - -"My plan," replied Dr. Bruce slowly, "is, in brief, the putting of -myself into the centre of the greatest human need I can find in this -city and living there. My wife is fully in accord with me. We have -already decided to find a residence in that part of the city where -we can make our personal lives count for the most." - -"Let me suggest a place." The Bishop was on fire now. His fine face -actually glowed with the enthusiasm of the movement in which he and -his friend were inevitably embarked. He went on and unfolded a plan -of such far-reaching power and possibility that Dr. Bruce, capable -and experienced as he was, felt amazed at the vision of a greater -soul than his own. - -They sat up late, and were as eager and even glad as if they were -planning for a trip together to some rare land of unexplored travel. -Indeed, the Bishop said many times afterward that the moment his -decision was reached to live the life of personal sacrifice he had -chosen he suddenly felt an uplifting as if a great burden were taken -from him. He was exultant. So was Dr. Bruce from the same cause. - -Their plan as it finally grew into a workable fact was in reality -nothing more than the renting of a large building formerly used as a -warehouse for a brewery, reconstructing it and living in it -themselves in the very heart of a territory where the saloon ruled -with power, where the tenement was its filthiest, where vice and -ignorance and shame and poverty were congested into hideous forms. -It was not a new idea. It was an idea started by Jesus Christ when -He left His Father's House and forsook the riches that were His in -order to get nearer humanity and, by becoming a part of its sin, -helping to draw humanity apart from its sin. The University -Settlement idea is not modern. It is as old as Bethlehem and -Nazareth. And in this particular case it was the nearest approach to -anything that would satisfy the hunger of these two men to suffer -for Christ. - -There had sprung up in them at the same time a longing that amounted -to a passion, to get nearer the great physical poverty and spiritual -destitution of the mighty city that throbbed around them. How could -they do this except as they became a part of it as nearly as one man -can become a part of another's misery? Where was the suffering to -come in unless there was an actual self-denial of some sort? And -what was to make that self-denial apparent to themselves or any one -else, unless it took this concrete, actual, personal form of trying -to share the deepest suffering and sin of the city? - -So they reasoned for themselves, not judging others. They were -simply keeping their own pledge to do as Jesus would do, as they -honestly judged He would do. That was what they had promised. How -could they quarrel with the result if they were irresistibly -compelled to do what they were planning to do? - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-six - - - - - -MEANWHILE, Nazareth Avenue Church was experiencing something never -known before in all its history. The simple appeal on the part of -its pastor to his members to do as Jesus would do had created a -sensation that still continued. The result of that appeal was very -much the same as in Henry Maxwell's church in Raymond, only this -church was far more aristocratic, wealthy and conventional. -Nevertheless when, one Sunday morning in early summer, Dr. Bruce -came into his pulpit and announced his resignation, the sensation -deepened all over the city, although he had advised with his board -of trustees, and the movement he intended was not a matter of -surprise to them. But when it become publicly known that the Bishop -had also announced his resignation and retirement from the position -he had held so long, in order to go and live himself in the centre -of the worst part of Chicago, the public astonishment reached its -height. - -"But why?" the Bishop replied to one valued friend who had almost -with tears tried to dissuade him from his purpose. "Why should what -Dr. Bruce and I propose to do seem so remarkable a thing, as if it -were unheard of that a Doctor of Divinity and a Bishop should want -to save lost souls in this particular manner? If we were to resign -our charge for the purpose of going to Bombay or Hong Kong or any -place in Africa, the churches and the people would exclaim at the -heroism of missions. Why should it seem so great a thing if we have -been led to give our lives to help rescue the heathen and the lost -of our own city in the way we are going to try it? Is it then such a -tremendous event that two Christian ministers should be not only -willing but eager to live close to the misery of the world in order -to know it and realize it? Is it such a rare thing that love of -humanity should find this particular form of expression in the -rescue of souls?" - -And however the Bishop may have satisfied himself that there ought -to be nothing so remarkable about it at all, the public continued to -talk and the churches to record their astonishment that two such -men, so prominent in the ministry, should leave their comfortable -homes, voluntarily resign their pleasant social positions and enter -upon a life of hardship, of self-denial and actual suffering. -Christian America! Is it a reproach on the form of our discipleship -that the exhibition of actual suffering for Jesus on the part of -those who walk in His steps always provokes astonishment as at the -sight of something very unusual? - -Nazareth Avenue Church parted from its pastor with regret for the -most part, although the regret was modified with a feeling of relief -on the part of those who had refused to take the pledge. Dr. Bruce -carried with him the respect of men who, entangled in business in -such a way that obedience to the pledge would have ruined them, -still held in their deeper, better natures a genuine admiration for -courage and consistency. They had known Dr. Bruce many years as a -kindly, conservative, safe man, but the thought of him in the light -of sacrifice of this sort was not familiar to them. As fast as they -understood it, they gave their pastor the credit of being absolutely -true to his recent convictions as to what following Jesus meant. -Nazareth Avenue Church never lost the impulse of that movement -started by Dr. Bruce. Those who went with him in making the promise -breathed into the church the very breath of divine life, and are -continuing that life-giving work at this present time. - -* * * * * * - -It was fall again, and the city faced another hard winter. The -Bishop one afternoon came out of the Settlement and walked around -the block, intending to go on a visit to one of his new friends in -the district. He had walked about four blocks when he was attracted -by a shop that looked different from the others. The neighborhood -was still quite new to him, and every day he discovered some strange -spot or stumbled upon some unexpected humanity. - -The place that attracted his notice was a small house close by a -Chinese laundry. There were two windows in the front, very clean, -and that was remarkable to begin with. Then, inside the window, was -a tempting display of cookery, with prices attached to the various -articles that made him wonder somewhat, for he was familiar by this -time with many facts in the life of the people once unknown to him. -As he stood looking at the windows, the door between them opened and -Felicia Sterling came out. - -"Felicia!" exclaimed the Bishop. "When did you move into my parish -without my knowledge?" - -"How did you find me so soon?" inquired Felicia. - -"Why, don't you know? These are the only clean windows in the -block." - -"I believe they are," replied Felicia with a laugh that did the -Bishop good to hear. - -"But why have you dared to come to Chicago without telling me, and -how have you entered my diocese without my knowledge?" asked the -Bishop. And Felicia looked so like that beautiful, clean, educated, -refined world he once knew, that he might be pardoned for seeing in -her something of the old Paradise. Although, to speak truth for him, -he had no desire to go back to it. - -"Well, dear Bishop," said Felicia, who had always called him so, "I -knew how overwhelmed you were with your work. I did not want to -burden you with my plans. And besides, I am going to offer you my -services. Indeed, I was just on my way to see you and ask your -advice. I am settled here for the present with Mrs. Bascom, a -saleswoman who rents our three rooms, and with one of Rachel's music -pupils who is being helped to a course in violin by Virginia Page. -She is from the people," continued Felicia, using the words "from -the people" so gravely and unconsciously that her hearer smiled, -"and I am keeping house for her and at the same time beginning an -experiment in pure food for the masses. I am an expert and I have a -plan I want you to admire and develop. Will you, dear Bishop?" - -"Indeed I will," he replied. The sight of Felicia and her remarkable -vitality, enthusiasm and evident purpose almost bewildered him. - -"Martha can help at the Settlement with her violin and I will help -with my messes. You see, I thought I would get settled first and -work out something, and then come with some real thing to offer. I'm -able to earn my own living now." - -"You are?" the Bishop said a little incredulously. "How? Making -those things?" - -"Those things!" said Felicia with a show of indignation. "I would -have you know, sir, that 'those things' are the best-cooked, purest -food products in this whole city." - -"I don't doubt it," he replied hastily, while his eyes twinkled, -"Still, 'the proof of the pudding'--you know the rest." - -"Come in and try some!" she exclaimed. "You poor Bishop! You look as -if you hadn't had a good meal for a month." - -She insisted on his entering the little front room where Martha, a -wide-awake girl with short, curly hair, and an unmistakable air of -music about her, was busy with practice. - -"Go right on, Martha. This is the Bishop. You have heard me speak of -him so often. Sit down there and let me give you a taste of the -fleshpots of Egypt, for I believe you have been actually fasting." - -So they had an improvised lunch, and the Bishop who, to tell the -truth, had not taken time for weeks to enjoy his meals, feasted on -the delight of his unexpected discovery and was able to express his -astonishment and gratification at the quality of the cookery. - -"I thought you would at least say it is as good as the meals you -used to get at the Auditorium at the big banquets," said Felicia -slyly. - -"As good as! The Auditorium banquets were simply husks compared with -this one, Felicia. But you must come to the Settlement. I want you -to see what we are doing. And I am simply astonished to find you -here earning your living this way. I begin to see what your plan is. -You can be of infinite help to us. You don't really mean that you -will live here and help these people to know the value of good -food?" - -"Indeed I do," she answered gravely. "That is my gospel. Shall I not -follow it?" - -"Aye, Aye! You're right. Bless God for sense like yours! When I left -the world," the Bishop smiled at the phrase, "they were talking a -good deal about the 'new woman.' If you are one of them, I am a -convert right now and here." - -"Flattery! Still is there no escape from it, even in the slums of -Chicago?" Felicia laughed again. And the man's heart, heavy though -it had grown during several months of vast sin-bearing, rejoiced to -hear it! It sounded good. It was good. It belonged to God. - -Felicia wanted to visit the Settlement, and went back with him. She -was amazed at the results of what considerable money an a good deal -of consecrated brains had done. As they walked through the building -they talked incessantly. She was the incarnation of vital -enthusiasm, and he wondered at the exhibition of it as it bubbled up -and sparkled over. - -They went down into the basement and the Bishop pushed open a door -from behind which came the sound of a carpenter's plane. It was a -small but well equipped carpenter's shop. A young man with a paper -cap on his head and clad in blouse and overalls was whistling and -driving the plane as he whistled. He looked up as the two entered, -and took off his cap. As he did so, his little finger carried a -small curling shaving up to his hair and it caught there. - -"Miss Sterling, Mr. Stephen Clyde," said the Bishop. "Clyde is one -of our helpers here two afternoons in the week." - -Just then the bishop was called upstairs and he excused himself a -moment, leaving Felicia and the young carpenter together. - -"We have met before," said Felicia looking at Clyde frankly. - -"Yes, 'back in the world,' as the Bishop says," replied the young -man, and his fingers trembled a little as they lay on the board he -had been planing. - -"Yes." Felicia hesitated. "I am very glad to see you." - -"Are you?" The flush of pleasure mounted to the young carpenter's -forehead. "You have had a great deal of trouble since--since--then," -he said, and then he was afraid he had wounded her, or called up -painful memories. But she had lived over all that. - -"Yes, and you also. How is it that you're working here?" - -"It is a long story, Miss Sterling. My father lost his money and I -was obliged to go to work. A very good thing for me. The Bishop says -I ought to be very grateful. I am. I am very happy now. I learned -the trade, hoping some time to be of use, I am night clerk at one of -the hotels. That Sunday morning when you took the pledge at Nazareth -Avenue Church, I took it with the others." - -"Did you?" said Felicia slowly. "I am glad." - -Just then the Bishop came back, and very soon he and Felicia went -away leaving the young carpenter at his work. Some one noticed that -he whistled louder than ever as he planed. - -"Felicia," said the Bishop, "did you know Stephen Clyde before?" - -"Yes, 'back in the world,' dear Bishop. He was one of my -acquaintances in Nazareth Avenue Church." - -"Ah!" said the Bishop. - -"We were very good friends," added Felicia. - -"But nothing more?" the Bishop ventured to ask. - -Felicia's face glowed for an instant. Then she looked her companion -in the eyes frankly and answered: "Truly and truly, nothing more." - -"It would be just the way of the world for these two people to come -to like each other, though," thought the man to himself, and somehow -the thought made him grave. It was almost like the old pang over -Camilla. But it passed, leaving him afterwards, when Felicia had -gone back, with tears in his eyes and a feeling that was almost hope -that Felicia and Stephen would like each other. "After all," he -said, like the sensible, good man that he was, "is not romance a -part of humanity? Love is older than I am, and wiser." - -The week following, the Bishop had an experience that belongs to -this part of the Settlement history. He was coming back to the -Settlement very late from some gathering of the striking tailors, -and was walking along with his hands behind him, when two men jumped -out from behind an old fence that shut off an abandoned factory from -the street, and faced him. One of the men thrust a pistol in his -face, and the other threatened him with a ragged stake that had -evidently been torn from the fence. - -"Hold up your hands, and be quick about it!" said the man with the -pistol. - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-seven - - - - - -"Righteousness shall go before him and shall set us in the way of -his steps." - -THE Bishop was not in the habit of carrying much money with him, and -the man with the stake who was searching him uttered an oath at the -small amount of change he found. As he uttered it, the man with the -pistol savagely said, "Jerk out his watch! We might as well get all -we can out of the job!" - -The man with the stake was on the point of laying hold of the chain -where there was a sound of footsteps coming towards him. - -"Get behind the fence! We haven't half searched him yet! Mind you -keep shut now, if you don't want--" - -The man with the pistol made a significant gesture with it and, with -his companion, pulled and pushed the Bishop down the alley and -through a ragged, broken opening in the fence. The three stood still -there in the shadow until the footsteps passed. - -"Now, then, have you got the watch?" asked the man with the pistol. - -"No, the chain is caught somewhere!" and the other man swore again. - -"Break it then!" - -"No, don't break it," the Bishop said, and it was the first time he -had spoken. "The chain is the gift of a very dear friend. I should -be sorry to have it broken." - -At the sound of the Bishop's voice the man with the pistol started -as if he had been suddenly shot by his own weapon. With a quick -movement of his other hand he turned the Bishop's head toward's what -little light was shining from the alleyway, at the same time taking -a step nearer. Then, to the amazement of his companion, he said -roughly: "Leave the watch alone! We've got the money. That's -enough!" - -"Enough! Fifty cents! You don't reckon--" - -Before the man with the stake could say another word he was -confronted with the muzzle of the pistol turned from the Bishop's -head towards his own. - -"Leave that watch be! And put back the money too. This is the Bishop -we've held up--the Bishop--do you hear?" - -"And what of it! The President of the United States wouldn't be too -good to hold up, if--" - -"I say, you put the money back, or in five seconds I'll blow a hole -through your head that'll let in more sense than you have to spare -now!" said the other. - -For a second the man with the stake seemed to hesitate at this -strange turn in events, as if measuring his companion's intention. -Then he hastily dropped the money back into the rifled pocket. - -"You can take your hands down, sir." The man lowered his weapon -slowly, still keeping an eye on the other man, and speaking with -rough respect. The Bishop slowly brought his arms to his side, and -looked earnestly at the two men. In the dim light it was difficult -to distinguish features. He was evidently free to go his way now, -but he stood there making no movement. - -"You can go on. You needn't stay any longer on our account." The man -who had acted as spokesman turned and sat down on a stone. The other -man stood viciously digging his stake into the ground. - -"That's just what I am staying for," replied the Bishop. He sat down -on a board that projected from the broken fence. - -"You must like our company. It is hard sometimes for people to tear -themselves away from us," and the man standing up laughed coarsely. - -"Shut up!" exclaimed the other. "We're on the road to hell, though, -that's sure enough. We need better company than ourselves and the -devil." - -"If you would only allow me to be of any help," the Bishop spoke -gently, even lovingly. The man on the stone stared at the Bishop -through the darkness. After a moment of silence he spoke slowly like -one who had finally decided upon a course he had at first rejected. - -"Do you remember ever seeing me before?" - -"No," said the Bishop. "The light is not very good and I have really -not had a good look at you." - -"Do you know me now?" The man suddenly took off his hat and getting -up from the stone walked over to the Bishop until they were near -enough to touch each other. - -The man's hair was coal black except one spot on the top of his head -about as large as the palm of the hand, which was white. - -The minute the Bishop saw that, he started. The memory of fifteen -years ago began to stir in him. The man helped him. - -"Don't you remember one day back in '81 or '82 a man came to your -house and told a story about his wife and child having been burned -to death in a tenement fire in New York?" - -"Yes, I begin to remember now." The other man seemed to be -interested. He ceased digging his stake in the ground and stood -still listening. - -"Do you remember how you took me into your own house that night and -spent all next day trying to find me a job? And how when you -succeeded in getting me a place in a warehouse as foreman, I -promised to quit drinking because you asked me to?" - -"I remember it now. I hope you have kept your promise." - -The man laughed savagely. Then he struck his hand against the fence -with such sudden passion that he drew blood. - -"Kept it! I was drunk inside of a week! I've been drinking ever -since. But I've never forgotten you nor your prayer. Do you remember -the morning after I came to your house, after breakfast you had -prayers and asked me to come in and sit with the rest? That got me! -But my mother used to pray! I can see her now kneeling down by my -bed when I was a lad. Father came in one night and kicked her while -she was kneeling there by me. But I never forgot that prayer of -yours that morning. You prayed for me just as mother used to, and -you didn't seem to take 'count of the fact that I was ragged and -tough-looking and more than half drunk when I rang your door bell. -Oh, what a life I've lived! The saloon has housed me and homed me -and made hell on earth for me. But that prayer stuck to me all the -time. My promise not to drink was broken into a thousand pieces -inside of two Sundays, and I lost the job you found for me and -landed in a police station two days later, but I never forgot you -nor your prayer. I don't know what good it has done me, but I never -forgot it. And I won't do any harm to you nor let any one else. So -you're free to go. That's why." - -The Bishop did not stir. Somewhere a church clock struck one. The -man had put on his hat and gone back to his seat on the stone. The -Bishop was thinking hard. - -"How long is it since you had work?" he asked, and the man standing -up answered for the other. - -"More'n six months since either of us did anything to tell of; -unless you count 'holding up' work. I call it pretty wearing kind of -a job myself, especially when we put in a night like this and don't -make nothin'." - -"Suppose I found good jobs for both of you? Would you quit this and -begin all over?" - -"What's the use?" the man on the stone spoke sullenly. "I've -reformed a hundred times. Every time I go down deeper. The devil's -begun to foreclose on me already. It's too late." - -"No!" said the Bishop. And never before the most entranced audience -had he felt the desire for souls burn up in him so strongly. All the -time he sat there during the remarkable scene he prayed, "O Lord -Jesus, give me the souls of these two for Thee! I am hungry for -them. Give them to me!" - -"No!" the Bishop repeated. "What does God want of you two men? It -doesn't so much matter what I want. But He wants just what I do in -this case. You two men are of infinite value to Him." And then his -wonderful memory came to his aid in an appeal such as no one on -earth among men could make under such circumstances. He had -remembered the man's name in spite of the wonderfully busy years -that lay between his coming to the house and the present moment. - -"Burns," he said, and he yearned over the men with an unspeakable -longing for them both, "if you and your friend here will go home -with me tonight I will find you both places of honorable employment. -I will believe in you and trust you. You are both comparatively -young men. Why should God lose you? It is a great thing to win the -love of the Great Father. It is a small thing that I should love -you. But if you need to feel again that there is love in the world, -you will believe me when I say, my brothers, that I love you, and in -the name of Him who was crucified for our sins I cannot bear to see -you miss the glory of the human life. Come, be men! Make another try -for it, God helping you. No one but God and you and myself need ever -know anything of this tonight. He has forgiven it the minute you ask -Him to. You will find that true. Come! We'll fight it out together, -you two and I. It's worth fighting for, everlasting life is. It was -the sinner that Christ came to help. I'll do what I can for you. O -God, give me the souls of these two men!" and he broke into a prayer -to God that was a continuation of his appeal to the men. His pent-up -feeling had no other outlet. Before he had prayed many moments Burns -was sitting with his face buried in his hands, sobbing. Where were -his mother's prayers now? They were adding to the power of the -Bishop's. And the other man, harder, less moved, without a previous -knowledge of the Bishop, leaned back against the fence, stolid at -first. But as the prayer went on, he was moved by it. What force of -the Holy Spirit swept over his dulled, brutal, coarsened life, -nothing but the eternal records of the recording angel can ever -disclose. But the same supernatural Presence that smote Paul on the -road to Damascus, and poured through Henry Maxwell's church the -morning he asked disciples to follow in Jesus' steps, and had again -broken irresistibly over the Nazareth Avenue congregation, now -manifested Himself in this foul corner of the mighty city and over -the natures of these two sinful sunken men, apparently lost to all -the pleadings of conscience and memory and God. The prayer seemed to -red open the crust that for years had surrounded them and shut them -off from divine communication. And they themselves were thoroughly -startled by it. - -The Bishop ceased, and at first he himself did not realize what had -happened. Neither did they. Burns still sat with his head bowed -between his knees. The man leaning against the fence looked at the -Bishop with a face in which new emotions of awe, repentance, -astonishment and a broken gleam of joy struggled for expression. The -Bishop rose. - -"Come, my brothers. God is good. You shall stay at the Settlement -tonight, and I will make good my promise as to the work." - -The two men followed him in silence. When they reached the -Settlement it was after two o'clock. He let them in and led them to -a room. At the door he paused a moment. His tall, commanding figure -stood in the doorway and his pale face was illuminated with the -divine glory. - -"God bless you, my brothers!" he said, and leaving them his -benediction he went away. - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-eight - - - - - -IT WAS the afternoon of that morning when Burns was installed in his -new position as assistant janitor that he was cleaning off the front -steps of the Settlement, when he paused a moment and stood up to -look about him. The first thing he noticed was a beer sign just -across the alley. He could almost touch it with his broom from where -he stood. Over the street immediately opposite were two large -saloons, and a little farther down were three more. - -Suddenly the door of the nearest saloon opened and a man came out. -At the same time two more went in. A strong odor of beer floated up -to Burns as he stood on the steps. He clutched his broom handle -tightly and began to sweep again. He had one foot on the porch and -another on the steps just below. He took another step down, still -sweeping. The sweat stood on his forehead although the day was -frosty and the air chill. The saloon door opened again and three or -four men came out. A child went in with a pail, and came out a -moment later with a quart of beer. The child went by on the sidewalk -just below him, and the odor of the beer came up to him. He took -another step down, still sweeping desperately. His fingers were -purple as he clutched the handle of the broom. - -Then suddenly he pulled himself up one step and swept over the spot -he had just cleaned. He then dragged himself by a tremendous effort -back to the floor of the porch and went over into the corner of it -farthest from the saloon and began to sweep there. "O God!" he -cried, "if the Bishop would only come back!" The Bishop had gone out -with Dr. Bruce somewhere, and there was no one about that he knew. -He swept in the corner for two or three minutes. His face was drawn -with the agony of his conflict. Gradually he edged out again towards -the steps and began to go down them. He looked towards the sidewalk -and saw that he had left one step unswept. The sight seemed to give -him a reasonable excuse for going down there to finish his sweeping. - -He was on the sidewalk now, sweeping the last step, with his face -towards the Settlement and his back turned partly on the saloon -across the alley. He swept the step a dozen times. The sweat rolled -over his face and dropped down at his feet. By degrees he felt that -he was drawn over towards that end of the step nearest the saloon. -He could smell the beer and rum now as the fumes rose around him. It -was like the infernal sulphur of the lowest hell, and yet it dragged -him as by a giant's hand nearer its source. - -He was down in the middle of the sidewalk now, still sweeping. He -cleared the space in front of the Settlement and even went out into -the gutter and swept that. He took off his hat and rubbed his sleeve -over his face. His lips were pallid and his teeth chattered. He -trembled all over like a palsied man and staggered back and forth as -if he was already drunk. His soul shook within him. - -He had crossed over the little piece of stone flagging that measured -the width of the alley, and now he stood in front of the saloon, -looking at the sign, and staring into the window at the pile of -whiskey and beer bottles arranged in a great pyramid inside. He -moistened his lips with his tongue and took a step forward, looking -around him stealthily. The door suddenly opened again and someone -came out. Again the hot, penetrating smell of liquor swept out into -the cold air, and he took another step towards the saloon door which -had shut behind the customer. As he laid his fingers on the door -handle, a tall figure came around the corner. It was the Bishop. - -He seized Burns by the arm and dragged him back upon the sidewalk. -The frenzied man, now mad for a drink, shrieked out a curse and -struck at his friend savagely. It is doubtful if he really knew at -first who was snatching him away from his ruin. The blow fell upon -the Bishop's face and cut a gash in his cheek. He never uttered a -word. But over his face a look of majestic sorrow swept. He picked -Burns up as if he had been a child and actually carried him up the -steps and into the house. He put him down in the hall and then shut -the door and put his back against it. - -Burns fell on his knees sobbing and praying. The Bishop stood there -panting with his exertion, although Burns was a slightly-built man -and had not been a great weight for a man of his strength to carry. -He was moved with unspeakable pity. - -"Pray, Burns--pray as you never prayed before! Nothing else will -save you!" - -"O God! Pray with me. Save me! Oh, save me from my hell!" cried -Burns. And, the Bishop knelt by him in the hall and prayed as only -he could pray. - -After that they rose and Burns went to his room. He came out of it -that evening like a humble child. And the Bishop went his way older -from that experience, bearing on his body the marks of the Lord -Jesus. Truly he was learning something of what it means to walk in -His steps. - -But the saloon! It stood there, and all the others lined the street -like so many traps set for Burns. How long would the man be able to -resist the smell of the damnable stuff? The Bishop went out on the -porch. The air of the whole city seemed to be impregnated with the -odor of beer. "How long, O Lord, how long?" he prayed. Dr. Bruce -came out, and the two friends talked about Burns and his temptation. - -"Did you ever make any inquiries about the ownership of this -property adjoining us?" the Bishop asked. - -"No, I haven't taken time for it. I will now if you think it would -be worth while. But what can we do, Edward, against the saloon in -this great city? It is as firmly established as the churches or -politics. What power can ever remove it?" - -"God will do it in time, as He has removed slavery," was the grave -reply. "Meanwhile I think we have a right to know who controls this -saloon so near the Settlement." - -"I'll find out," said Dr. Bruce. - -Two days later he walked into the business office of one of the -members of Nazareth Avenue Church and asked to see him a few -moments. He was cordially received by his old parishioner, who -welcomed him into his room and urged him to take all the time he -wanted. - -"I called to see you about that property next the Settlement where -the Bishop and myself now are, you know. I am going to speak -plainly, because life is too short and too serious for us both to -have any foolish hesitation about this matter. Clayton, do you think -it is right to rent that property for a saloon?" - -Dr. Bruce's question was as direct and uncompromising as he had -meant it to be. The effect of it on his old parishioner was -instantaneous. - -The hot blood mounted to the face of the man who sat there beneath a -picture of business activity in a great city. Then he grew pale, -dropped his head on his hands, and when he raised it again Dr. Bruce -was amazed to see a tear roll over his face. - -"Doctor, did you know that I took the pledge that morning with the -others?" - -"Yes, I remember." - -"But you never knew how I have been tormented over my failure to -keep it in this instance. That saloon property has been the -temptation of the devil to me. It is the best paying investment at -present that I have. And yet it was only a minute before you came in -here that I was in an agony of remorse to think how I was letting a -little earthly gain tempt me into a denial of the very Christ I had -promised to follow. I knew well enough that He would never rent -property for such a purpose. There is no need, Dr. Bruce, for you to -say a word more." - -Clayton held out his hand and Dr. Bruce grasped it and shook it -hard. After a little he went away. But it was a long time afterwards -that he learned all the truth about the struggle that Clayton had -known. It was only a part of the history that belonged to Nazareth -Avenue Church since that memorable morning when the Holy Spirit -sanctioned the Christ-like pledge. Not even the Bishop and Dr. -Bruce, moving as they now did in the very presence itself of divine -impulses, knew yet that over the whole sinful city the Spirit was -brooding with mighty eagerness, waiting for the disciples to arise -to the call of sacrifice and suffering, touching hearts long dull -and cold, making business men and money-makers uneasy in their -absorption by the one great struggle for more wealth, and stirring -through the church as never in all the city's history the church had -been moved. The Bishop and Dr. Bruce had already seen some wonderful -things in their brief life at the Settlement. They were to see far -greater soon, more astonishing revelations of the divine power than -they had supposed possible in this age of the world. - -Within a month the saloon next the Settlement was closed. The -saloon-keeper's lease had expired, and Clayton not only closed the -property to the whiskey men, but offered the building to the Bishop -and Dr. Bruce to use for the Settlement work, which had now grown so -large that the building they had first rented was not sufficient for -the different industries that were planned. - -One of the most important of these was the pure-food department -suggested by Felicia. It was not a month after Clayton turned the -saloon property over to the Settlement that Felicia found herself -installed in the very room where souls had been lost, as head of the -department not only of cooking but of a course of housekeeping for -girls who wished to go out to service. She was now a resident of the -Settlement, and found a home with Mrs. Bruce and the other young -women from the city who were residents. Martha, the violinist, -remained at the place where the Bishop had first discovered the two -girls, and came over to the Settlement certain evenings to give -lessons in music. - -"Felicia, tell us your plan in full now," said the Bishop one -evening when, in a rare interval of rest from the great pressure of -work, he was with Dr. Bruce, and Felicia had come in from the other -building. - -"Well, I have long thought of the hired girl problem," said Felicia -with an air of wisdom that made Mrs. Bruce smile as she looked at -the enthusiastic, vital beauty of this young girl, transformed into -a new creature by the promise she had made to live the Christ-like -life. "And I have reached certain conclusions in regard to it that -you men are not yet able to fathom, but Mrs. Bruce will understand -me." - -"We acknowledge our infancy, Felicia. Go on," said the Bishop -humbly. - -"Then this is what I propose to do. The old saloon building is large -enough to arrange into a suite of rooms that will represent an -ordinary house. My plan is to have it so arranged, and then teach -housekeeping and cooking to girls who will afterwards go out to -service. The course will be six months' long; in that time I will -teach plain cooking, neatness, quickness, and a love of good work." - -"Hold on, Felicia!" the Bishop interrupted, "this is not an age of -miracles!" - -"Then we will make it one," replied Felicia. "I know this seems like -an impossibility, but I want to try it. I know a score of girls -already who will take the course, and if we can once establish -something like an esprit de corps among the girls themselves, I am -sure it will be of great value to them. I know already that the pure -food is working a revolution in many families." - -"Felicia, if you can accomplish half what you propose it will bless -this community," said Mrs. Bruce. "I don't see how you can do it, -but I say, God bless you, as you try." - -"So say we all!" cried Dr. Bruce and the Bishop, and Felicia plunged -into the working out of her plan with the enthusiasm of her -discipleship which every day grew more and more practical and -serviceable. - -It must be said here that Felicia's plan succeeded beyond all -expectations. She developed wonderful powers of persuasion, and -taught her girls with astonishing rapidity to do all sorts of -housework. In time, the graduates of Felicia's cooking school came -to be prized by housekeepers all over the city. But that is -anticipating our story. The history of the Settlement has never yet -been written. When it is Felicia's part will be found of very great -importance. - -The depth of winter found Chicago presenting, as every great city of -the world presents to the eyes of Christendom the marked contrast -between riches and poverty, between culture, refinement, luxury, -ease, and ignorance, depravity, destitution and the bitter struggle -for bread. It was a hard winter but a gay winter. Never had there -been such a succession of parties, receptions, balls, dinners, -banquets, fetes, gayeties. Never had the opera and the theatre been -so crowded with fashionable audiences. Never had there been such a -lavish display of jewels and fine dresses and equipages. And on the -other hand, never had the deep want and suffering been so cruel, so -sharp, so murderous. Never had the winds blown so chilling over the -lake and through the thin shells of tenements in the neighborhood of -the Settlement. Never had the pressure for food and fuel and clothes -been so urgently thrust up against the people of the city in their -most importunate and ghastly form. Night after night the Bishop and -Dr. Bruce with their helpers went out and helped save men and women -and children from the torture of physical privation. Vast quantities -of food and clothing and large sums of money were donated by the -churches, the charitable societies, the civic authorities and the -benevolent associations. But the personal touch of the Christian -disciple was very hard to secure for personal work. Where was the -discipleship that was obeying the Master's command to go itself to -the suffering and give itself with its gift in order to make the -gift of value in time to come? The Bishop found his heart sing -within him as he faced this fact more than any other. Men would give -money who would not think of giving themselves. And the money they -gave did not represent any real sacrifice because they did not miss -it. They gave what was the easiest to give, what hurt them the -least. Where did the sacrifice come in? Was this following Jesus? -Was this going with Him all the way? He had been to members of his -own aristocratic, splendidly wealthy congregations, and was appalled -to find how few men and women of that luxurious class in the -churches would really suffer any genuine inconvenience for the sake -of suffering humanity. Is charity the giving of worn-out garments? -Is it a ten-dollar bill given to a paid visitor or secretary of some -benevolent organization in the church? Shall the man never go and -give his gift himself? Shall the woman never deny herself her -reception or her party or her musicale, and go and actually touch, -herself, the foul, sinful sore of diseased humanity as it festers in -the great metropolis? Shall charity be conveniently and easily done -through some organization? Is it possible to organize the affections -so that love shall work disagreeable things by proxy? - -All this the Bishop asked as he plunged deeper into the sin and -sorrow of that bitter winter. He was bearing his cross with joy. But -he burned and fought within over the shifting of personal love by -the many upon the hearts of the few. And still, silently, -powerfully, resistlessly, the Holy Spirit was moving through the -churches, even the aristocratic, wealthy, ease-loving members who -shunned the terrors of the social problem as they would shun a -contagious disease. - - - - - - -Chapter Twenty-nine - - - - - -THE breakfast hour at the settlement was the one hour in the day -when the whole family found a little breathing space to fellowship -together. It was an hour of relaxation. There was a great deal of -good-natured repartee and much real wit and enjoyable fun at this -hour. The Bishop told his best stories. Dr. Bruce was at his best in -anecdote. This company of disciples was healthily humorous in spite -of the atmosphere of sorrow that constantly surrounded them. In -fact, the Bishop often said the faculty of humor was as God-given as -any other and in his own case it was the only safety valve he had -for the tremendous pressure put upon him. - -This particular morning he was reading extracts from a morning paper -for the benefit of the others. Suddenly he paused and his face -instantly grew stern and sad. The rest looked up and a hush fell -over the table. - -"Shot and killed while taking a lump of coal from a car! His family -was freezing and he had had no work for six months. Six children and -a wife all packed into a cabin with three rooms, on the West Side. -One child wrapped in rags in a closet!" - -These were headlines that he read slowly. He then went on and read -the detailed account of the shooting and the visit of the reporter -to the tenement where the family lived. He finished, and there was -silence around the table. The humor of the hour was swept out of -existence by this bit of human tragedy. The great city roared about -the Settlement. The awful current of human life was flowing in a -great stream past the Settlement House, and those who had work were -hurrying to it in a vast throng. But thousands were going down in -the midst of that current, clutching at last hopes, dying literally -in a land of plenty because the boon of physical toil was denied -them. - -There were various comments on the part of the residents. One of the -new-comers, a young man preparing for the ministry, said: "Why don't -the man apply to one of the charity organizations for help? Or to -the city? It certainly is not true that even at its worst this city -full of Christian people would knowingly allow any one to go without -food or fuel." - -"No, I don't believe it would," replied Dr. Bruce. "But we don't -know the history of this man's case. He may have asked for help so -often before that, finally, in a moment of desperation he determined -to help himself. I have known such cases this winter." - -"That is not the terrible fact in this case," said the Bishop. "The -awful thing about it is the fact that the man had not had any work -for six months." - -"Why don't such people go out into the country?" asked the divinity -student. - -Some one at the table who had made a special study of the -opportunities for work in the country answered the question. -According to the investigator the places that were possible for work -in the country were exceedingly few for steady employment, and in -almost every case they were offered only to men without families. -Suppose a man's wife or children were ill. How would he move or get -into the country? How could he pay even the meager sum necessary to -move his few goods? There were a thousand reasons probably why this -particular man did not go elsewhere. - -"Meanwhile there are the wife and children," said Mrs. Bruce. "How -awful! Where is the place, did you say?" - -"Why, it is only three blocks from here. This is the 'Penrose -district.' I believe Penrose himself owns half of the houses in that -block. They are among the worst houses in this part of the city. And -Penrose is a church member." - -"Yes, he belongs to the Nazareth Avenue Church," replied Dr. Bruce -in a low voice. - -The Bishop rose from the table the very figure of divine wrath. He -had opened his lips to say what seldom came from him in the way of -denunciation, when the bell rang and one of the residents went to -the door. - -"Tell Dr. Bruce and the Bishop I want to see them. Penrose is the -name--Clarence Penrose. Dr. Bruce knows me." - -The family at the breakfast table heard every word. The Bishop -exchanged a significant look with Dr. Bruce and the two men -instantly left the table and went out into the hall. - -"Come in here, Penrose," said Dr. Bruce, and they ushered the -visitor into the reception room, closed the door and were alone. - -Clarence Penrose was one of the most elegant looking men in Chicago. -He came from an aristocratic family of great wealth and social -distinction. He was exceedingly wealthy and had large property -holdings in different parts of the city. He had been a member of Dr. -Bruce's church many years. He faced the two ministers with a look of -agitation on his face that showed plainly the mark of some unusual -experience. He was very pale and his lips trembled as he spoke. When -had Clarence Penrose ever before yielded to such a strange emotion? - -"This affair of the shooting! You understand? You have read it? The -family lived in one of my houses. It is a terrible event. But that -is not the primary cause of my visit." He stammered and looked -anxiously into the faces of the two men. The Bishop still looked -stern. He could not help feeling that this elegant man of leisure -could have done a great deal to alleviate the horrors in his -tenements, possibly have prevented this tragedy if he had sacrificed -some of his personal ease and luxury to better the conditions of the -people in his district. - -Penrose turned toward Dr. Bruce. "Doctor!" he exclaimed, and there -was almost a child's terror in his voice. "I came to say that I have -had an experience so unusual that nothing but the supernatural can -explain it. You remember I was one of those who took the pledge to -do as Jesus would do. I thought at the time, poor fool that I was, -that I had all along been doing the Christian thing. I gave -liberally out of my abundance to the church and charity. I never -gave myself to cost me any suffering. I have been living in a -perfect hell of contradictions ever since I took that pledge. My -little girl, Diana you remember, also took the pledge with me. She -has been asking me a great many questions lately about the poor -people and where they live. I was obliged to answer her. One of her -questions last night touched my sore! 'Do you own any houses where -these poor people live? Are they nice and warm like ours?' You know -how a child will ask questions like these. I went to bed tormented -with what I now know to be the divine arrows of conscience. I could -not sleep. I seemed to see the judgment day. I was placed before the -Judge. I was asked to give an account of my deeds done in the body. -'How many sinful souls had I visited in prison? What had I done with -my stewardship? How about those tenements where people froze in -winter and stifled in summer? Did I give any thought to them except -to receive the rentals from them? Where did my suffering come in? -Would Jesus have done as I had done and was doing? Had I broken my -pledge? How had I used the money and the culture and the social -influence I possessed? Had I used it to bless humanity, to relieve -the suffering, to bring joy to the distressed and hope to the -desponding? I had received much. How much had I given?' - -"All this came to me in a waking vision as distinctly as I see you -two men and myself now. I was unable to see the end of the vision. I -had a confused picture in my mind of the suffering Christ pointing a -condemning finger at me, and the rest was shut out by mist and -darkness. I have not slept for twenty-four hours. The first thing I -saw this morning was the account of the shooting at the coal yards. -I read the account with a feeling of horror I have not been able to -shake off. I am a guilty creature before God." - -Penrose paused suddenly. The two men looked at him solemnly. What -power of the Holy Spirit moved the soul of this hitherto -self-satisfied, elegant, cultured man who belonged to the social -life that was accustomed to go its way placidly, unmindful of the -great sorrows of a great city and practically ignorant of what it -means to suffer for Jesus' sake? Into that room came a breath such -as before swept over Henry Maxwell's church and through Nazareth -avenue. The Bishop laid his hand on the shoulder of Penrose and -said: "My brother, God has been very near to you. Let us thank Him." - -"Yes! yes!" sobbed Penrose. He sat down on a chair and covered his -face. The Bishop prayed. Then Penrose quietly said: "Will you go -with me to that house?" - -For answer the two men put on their overcoats and went with him to -the home of the dead man's family. - -That was the beginning of a new and strange life for Clarence -Penrose. From the moment he stepped into that wretched hovel of a -home and faced for the first time in his life a despair and -suffering such as he had read of but did not know by personal -contact, he dated a new life. It would be another long story to tell -how, in obedience to his pledge he began to do with his tenement -property as he knew Jesus would do. What would Jesus do with -tenement property if He owned it in Chicago or any other great city -of the world? Any man who can imagine any true answers to this -question can easily tell what Clarence Penrose began to do. - -Now before that winter reached its bitter climax many things -occurred in the city which concerned the lives of all the characters -in this history of the disciples who promised to walk in His steps. - -It chanced by one of those coincidences that seem to occur -preternaturally that one afternoon just as Felicia came out of the -Settlement with a basket of food which she was going to leave as a -sample with a baker in the Penrose district, Stephen Clyde opened -the door of the carpenter shop in the basement and came out in time -to meet her as she reached the sidewalk. - -"Let me carry your basket, please," he said. - -"Why do you say 'please'?" asked Felicia, handing over the basket -while they walked along. - -"I would like to say something else," replied Stephen, glancing at -her shyly and yet with a boldness that frightened him, for he had -been loving Felicia more every day since he first saw her and -especially since she stepped into the shop that day with the Bishop, -and for weeks now they had been thrown in each other's company. - -"What else?" asked Felicia, innocently falling into the trap. - -"Why--" said Stephen, turning his fair, noble face full toward her -and eyeing her with the look of one who would have the best of all -things in the universe, "I would like to say: 'Let me carry your -basket, dear Felicia'." - -Felicia never looked so beautiful in her life. She walked on a -little way without even turning her face toward him. It was no -secret with her own heart that she had given it to Stephen some time -ago. Finally she turned and said shyly, while her face grew rosy and -her eyes tender: "Why don't you say it, then?" - -"May I?" cried Stephen, and he was so careless for a minute of the -way he held the basket, that Felicia exclaimed: - -"Yes! But oh, don't drop my goodies!" - -"Why, I wouldn't drop anything so precious for all the world, dear -Felicia," said Stephen, who now walked on air for several blocks, -and what was said during that walk is private correspondence that we -have no right to read. Only it is a matter of history that day that -the basket never reached its destination, and that over in the other -direction, late in the afternoon, the Bishop, walking along quietly -from the Penrose district, in rather a secluded spot near the -outlying part of the Settlement district, heard a familiar voice -say: - -"But tell me, Felicia, when did you begin to love me?" - -"I fell in love with a little pine shaving just above your ear that -day when I saw you in the shop!" said the other voice with a laugh -so clear, so pure, so sweet that it did one good to hear it. - -"Where are you going with that basket?" he tried to say sternly. - -"We are taking it to--where are we taking it, Felicia?" - -"Dear Bishop, we are taking it home to begin--" - -"To begin housekeeping with," finished Stephen, coming to the -rescue. - -"Are you?" said the Bishop. "I hope you will invite me to share. I -know what Felicia's cooking is." - -"Bishop, dear Bishop!" said Felicia, and she did not pretend to hide -her happiness; "indeed, you shall be the most honored guest. Are you -glad?" - -"Yes, I am," he replied, interpreting Felicia's words as she wished. -Then he paused a moment and said gently: "God bless you both!" and -went his way with a tear in his eye and a prayer in his heart, and -left them to their joy. - -Yes. Shall not the same divine power of love that belongs to earth -be lived and sung by the disciples of the Man of Sorrows and the -Burden-bearer of sins? Yea, verily! And this man and woman shall -walk hand in hand through this great desert of human woe in this -city, strengthening each other, growing more loving with the -experience of the world's sorrows, walking in His steps even closer -yet because of their love for each other, bringing added blessing to -thousands of wretched creatures because they are to have a home of -their own to share with the homeless. "For this cause," said our -Lord Jesus Christ, "shall a man leave his father and mother and -cleave unto his wife." And Felicia and Stephen, following the -Master, love him with a deeper, truer service and devotion because -of the earthly affection which Heaven itself sanctions with its -solemn blessing. - -But it was a little after the love story of the Settlement became a -part of its glory that Henry Maxwell of Raymond came to Chicago with -Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page and Rollin and Alexander Powers and -President Marsh, and the occasion was a remarkable gathering at the -hall of the Settlement arranged by the Bishop and Dr. Bruce, who had -finally persuaded Mr. Maxwell and his fellow disciples in Raymond to -come on to be present at this meeting. - -There were invited into the Settlement Hall, meeting for that night -men out of work, wretched creatures who had lost faith in God and -man, anarchists and infidels, free-thinkers and no-thinkers. The -representation of all the city's worst, most hopeless, most -dangerous, depraved elements faced Henry Maxwell and the other -disciples when the meeting began. And still the Holy Spirit moved -over the great, selfish, pleasure-loving, sin-stained city, and it -lay in God's hand, not knowing all that awaited it. Every man and -woman at the meeting that night had seen the Settlement motto over -the door blazing through the transparency set up by the divinity -student: "What would Jesus do?" - -And Henry Maxwell, as for the first time he stepped under the -doorway, was touched with a deeper emotion than he had felt in a -long time as he thought of the first time that question had come to -him in the piteous appeal of the shabby young man who had appeared -in the First Church of Raymond at the morning service. - - - - - - -Chapter Thirty - - - - - -"Now, when Jesus heard these things, He said unto him, Yet lackest -thou one thing: sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the -poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow Me." - -WHEN Henry Maxwell began to speak to the souls crowded into the -Settlement Hall that night it is doubtful if he ever faced such an -audience in his life. It is quite certain that the city of Raymond -did not contain such a variety of humanity. Not even the Rectangle -at its worst could furnish so many men and women who had fallen -entirely out of the reach of the church and of all religious and -even Christian influences. - -What did he talk about? He had already decided that point. He told -in the simplest language he could command some of the results of -obedience to the pledge as it had been taken in Raymond. Every man -and woman in that audience knew something about Jesus Christ. They -all had some idea of His character, and however much they had grown -bitter toward the forms of Christian ecclesiasticism or the social -system, they preserved some standard of right and truth, and what -little some of them still retained was taken from the person of the -Peasant of Galilee. - -So they were interested in what Maxwell said. "What would Jesus do?" -He began to apply the question to the social problem in general, -after finishing the story of Raymond. The audience was respectfully -attentive. It was more than that. It was genuinely interested. As -Mr. Maxwell went on, faces all over the hall leaned forward in a way -seldom seen in church audiences or anywhere except among workingmen -or the people of the street when once they are thoroughly aroused. -"What would Jesus do?" Suppose that were the motto not only of the -churches but of the business men, the politicians, the newspapers, -the workingmen, the society people--how long would it take under -such a standard of conduct to revolutionize the world? What was the -trouble with the world? It was suffering from selfishness. No one -ever lived who had succeeded in overcoming selfishness like Jesus. -If men followed Him regardless of results the world would at once -begin to enjoy a new life. - -Maxwell never knew how much it meant to hold the respectful -attention of that hall full of diseased and sinful humanity. The -Bishop and Dr. Bruce, sitting there, looking on, seeing many faces -that represented scorn of creeds, hatred of the social order, -desperate narrowness and selfishness, marveled that even so soon -under the influence of the Settlement life, the softening process -had begun already to lessen the bitterness of hearts, many of which -had grown bitter from neglect and indifference. - -And still, in spite of the outward show of respect to the speaker, -no one, not even the Bishop, had any true conception of the feeling -pent up in that room that night. Among those who had heard of the -meeting and had responded to the invitation were twenty or thirty -men out of work who had strolled past the Settlement that afternoon, -read the notice of the meeting, and had come in out of curiosity and -to escape the chill east wind. It was a bitter night and the saloons -were full. But in that whole district of over thirty thousand souls, -with the exception of the saloons, there was not a door open except -the clean, pure Christian door of the Settlement. Where would a man -without a home or without work or without friends naturally go -unless to the saloon? - -It had been the custom at the Settlement for a free discussion to -follow any open meeting of this kind, and when Mr. Maxwell finished -and sat down, the Bishop, who presided that night, rose and made the -announcement that any man in the hall was at liberty to ask -questions, to speak out his feelings or declare his convictions, -always with the understanding that whoever took part was to observe -the simple rules that governed parliamentary bodies and obey the -three-minute rule which, by common consent, would be enforced on -account of the numbers present. - -Instantly a number of voices from men who had been at previous -meetings of this kind exclaimed, "Consent! consent!" - -The Bishop sat down, and immediately a man near the middle of the -hall rose and began to speak. - -"I want to say that what Mr. Maxwell has said tonight comes pretty -close to me. I knew Jack Manning, the fellow he told about who died -at his house. I worked on the next case to his in a printer's shop -in Philadelphia for two years. Jack was a good fellow. He loaned me -five dollars once when I was in a hole and I never got a chance to -pay him back. He moved to New York, owing to a change in the -management of the office that threw him out, and I never saw him -again. When the linotype machines came in I was one of the men to go -out, just as he did. I have been out most of the time since. They -say inventions are a good thing. I don't always see it myself; but I -suppose I'm prejudiced. A man naturally is when he loses a steady -job because a machine takes his place. About this Christianity he -tells about, it's all right. But I never expect to see any such -sacrifices on the part of the church people. So far as my -observation goes they're just as selfish and as greedy for money and -worldly success as anybody. I except the Bishop and Dr. Bruce and a -few others. But I never found much difference between men of the -world, as they are called, and church members when it came to -business and money making. One class is just as bad as another -there." - -Cries of "That's so!" "You're right!" "Of course!" interrupted the -speaker, and the minute he sat down two men who were on the floor -for several seconds before the first speaker was through began to -talk at once. - -The Bishop called them to order and indicated which was entitled to -the floor. The man who remained standing began eagerly: - -"This is the first time I was ever in here, and may be it'll be the -last. Fact is, I am about at the end of my string. I've tramped this -city for work till I'm sick. I'm in plenty of company. Say! I'd like -to ask a question of the minister, if it's fair. May I?" - -"That's for Mr. Maxwell to say," said the Bishop. - -"By all means," replied Mr. Maxwell quickly. "Of course, I will not -promise to answer it to the gentleman's satisfaction." - -"This is my question." The man leaned forward and stretched out a -long arm with a certain dramatic force that grew naturally enough -out of his condition as a human being. "I want to know what Jesus -would do in my case. I haven't had a stroke of work for two months. -I've got a wife and three children, and I love them as much as if I -was worth a million dollars. I've been living off a little earnings -I saved up during the World's Fair jobs I got. I'm a carpenter by -trade, and I've tried every way I know to get a job. You say we -ought to take for our motto, 'What would Jesus do?' What would He do -if He was out of work like me? I can't be somebody else and ask the -question. I want to work. I'd give anything to grow tired of working -ten hours a day the way I used to. Am I to blame because I can't -manufacture a job for myself? I've got to live, and my wife and my -children have got to live. But how? What would Jesus do? You say -that's the question we ought to ask." - -Mr. Maxwell sat there staring at the great sea of faces all intent -on his, and no answer to this man's question seemed for the time -being to be possible. "O God!" his heart prayed; "this is a question -that brings up the entire social problem in all its perplexing -entanglement of human wrongs and its present condition contrary to -every desire of God for a human being's welfare. Is there any -condition more awful than for a man in good health, able and eager -to work, with no means of honest livelihood unless he does work, -actually unable to get anything to do, and driven to one of three -things: begging or charity at the hands of friends or strangers, -suicide or starvation? 'What would Jesus do?'" It was a fair -question for the man to ask. It was the only question he could ask, -supposing him to be a disciple of Jesus. But what a question for any -man to be obliged to answer under such conditions? - -All this and more did Henry Maxwell ponder. All the others were -thinking in the same way. The Bishop sat there with a look so stern -and sad that it was not hard to tell how the question moved him. Dr. -Bruce had his head bowed. The human problem had never seemed to him -so tragical as since he had taken the pledge and left his church to -enter the Settlement. What would Jesus do? It was a terrible -question. And still the man stood there, tall and gaunt and almost -terrible, with his arm stretched out in an appeal which grew every -second in meaning. At length Mr. Maxwell spoke. - -"Is there any man in the room, who is a Christian disciple, who has -been in this condition and has tried to do as Jesus would do? If so, -such a man can answer this question better than I can." - -There was a moment's hush over the room and then a man near the -front of the hall slowly rose. He was an old man, and the hand he -laid on the back of the bench in front of him trembled as he spoke. - -"I think I can safely say that I have many times been in just such a -condition, and I have always tried to be a Christian under all -conditions. I don't know as I have always asked this question, 'What -would Jesus do?' when I have been out of work, but I do know I have -tried to be His disciple at all times. Yes," the man went on, with a -sad smile that was more pathetic to the Bishop and Mr. Maxwell than -the younger man's grim despair; "yes, I have begged, and I have been -to charity institutions, and I have done everything when out of a -job except steal and lie in order to get food and fuel. I don't know -as Jesus would have done some of the things I have been obliged to -do for a living, but I know I have never knowingly done wrong when -out of work. Sometimes I think maybe He would have starved sooner -than beg. I don't know." - -The old man's voice trembled and he looked around the room timidly. -A silence followed, broken by a fierce voice from a large, -black-haired, heavily-bearded man who sat three seats from the -Bishop. The minute he spoke nearly every man in the hall leaned -forward eagerly. The man who had asked the question, "What would -Jesus do in my case?" slowly sat down and whispered to the man next -to him: "Who's that?" - -"That's Carlsen, the Socialist leader. Now you'll hear something." - -"This is all bosh, to my mind," began Carlsen, while his great -bristling beard shook with the deep inward anger of the man. "The -whole of our system is at fault. What we call civilization is rotten -to the core. There is no use trying to hide it or cover it up. We -live in an age of trusts and combines and capitalistic greed that -means simply death to thousands of innocent men, women and children. -I thank God, if there is a God--which I very much doubt--that I, for -one, have never dared to marry and make a home. Home! Talk of hell! -Is there any bigger one than this man and his three children has on -his hands right this minute? And he's only one out of thousands. And -yet this city, and every other big city in this country, has its -thousands of professed Christians who have all the luxuries and -comforts, and who go to church Sundays and sing their hymns about -giving all to Jesus and bearing the cross and following Him all the -way and being saved! I don't say that there aren't good men and -women among them, but let the minister who has spoken to us here -tonight go into any one of a dozen aristocratic churches I could -name and propose to the members to take any such pledge as the one -he's mentioned here tonight, and see how quick the people would -laugh at him for a fool or a crank or a fanatic. Oh, no! That's not -the remedy. That can't ever amount to anything. We've got to have a -new start in the way of government. The whole thing needs -reconstructing. I don't look for any reform worth anything to come -out of the churches. They are not with the people. They are with the -aristocrats, with the men of money. The trusts and monopolies have -their greatest men in the churches. The ministers as a class are -their slaves. What we need is a system that shall start from the -common basis of socialism, founded on the rights of the common -people--" - -Carlsen had evidently forgotten all about the three-minutes rule and -was launching himself into a regular oration that meant, in his -usual surroundings before his usual audience, an hour at least, when -the man just behind him pulled him down unceremoniously and arose. -Carlsen was angry at first and threatened a little disturbance, but -the Bishop reminded him of the rule, and he subsided with several -mutterings in his beard, while the next speaker began with a very -strong eulogy on the value of the single tax as a genuine remedy for -all the social ills. He was followed by a man who made a bitter -attack on the churches and ministers, and declared that the two -great obstacles in the way of all true reform were the courts and -the ecclesiastical machines. - -When he sat down a man who bore every mark of being a street laborer -sprang to his feet and poured a perfect torrent of abuse against the -corporations, especially the railroads. The minute his time was up a -big, brawny fellow, who said he was a metal worker by trade, claimed -the floor and declared that the remedy for the social wrongs was -Trades Unionism. This, he said, would bring on the millennium for -labor more surely than anything else. The next man endeavored to -give some reasons why so many persons were out of employment, and -condemned inventions as works of the devil. He was loudly applauded -by the rest. - -Finally the Bishop called time on the "free for all," and asked -Rachel to sing. - -Rachel Winslow had grown into a very strong, healthful, humble -Christian during that wonderful year in Raymond dating from the -Sunday when she first took the pledge to do as Jesus would do, and -her great talent for song had been fully consecrated to the service -of the Master. When she began to sing tonight at this Settlement -meeting, she had never prayed more deeply for results to come from -her voice, the voice which she now regarded as the Master's, to be -used for Him. - -Certainly her prayer was being answered as she sang. She had chosen -the words, - -"Hark! The voice of Jesus calling, Follow me, follow me!" - -Again Henry Maxwell, sitting there, was reminded of his first night -at the Rectangle in the tent when Rachel sang the people into quiet. -The effect was the same here. What wonderful power a good voice -consecrated to the Master's service always is! Rachel's great -natural ability would have made her one of the foremost opera -singers of the age. Surely this audience had never heard such a -melody. How could it? The men who had drifted in from the street sat -entranced by a voice which "back in the world," as the Bishop said, -never could be heard by the common people because the owner of it -would charge two or three dollars for the privilege. The song poured -out through the hall as free and glad as if it were a foretaste of -salvation itself. Carlsen, with his great, black-bearded face -uplifted, absorbed the music with the deep love of it peculiar to -his nationality, and a tear ran over his cheek and glistened in his -beard as his face softened and became almost noble in its aspect. -The man out of work who had wanted to know what Jesus would do in -his place sat with one grimy hand on the back of the bench in front -of him, with his mouth partly open, his great tragedy for the moment -forgotten. The song, while it lasted, was food and work and warmth -and union with his wife and babies once more. The man who had spoken -so fiercely against the churches and ministers sat with his head -erect, at first with a look of stolid resistance, as if he -stubbornly resisted the introduction into the exercises of anything -that was even remotely connected with the church or its forms of -worship. But gradually he yielded to the power that was swaying the -hearts of all the persons in that room, and a look of sad -thoughtfulness crept over his face. - -The Bishop said that night while Rachel was singing that if the -world of sinful, diseased, depraved, lost humanity could only have -the gospel preached to it by consecrated prima donnas and -professional tenors and altos and bassos, he believed it would -hasten the coming of the Kingdom quicker than any other one force. -"Why, oh why," he cried in his heart as he listened, "has the -world's great treasure of song been so often held far from the poor -because the personal possessor of voice or fingers, capable of -stirring divinest melody, has so often regarded the gift as -something with which to make money? Shall there be no martyrs among -the gifted ones of the earth? Shall there be no giving of this great -gift as well as of others?" - -And Henry Maxwell, again as before, called up that other audience at -the Rectangle with increasing longing for a larger spread of the new -discipleship. What he had seen and heard at the Settlement burned -into him deeper the belief that the problem of the city would be -solved if the Christians in it should once follow Jesus as He gave -commandment. But what of this great mass of humanity, neglected and -sinful, the very kind of humanity the Savior came to save, with all -its mistakes and narrowness, its wretchedness and loss of hope, -above all its unqualified bitterness towards the church? That was -what smote him deepest. Was the church then so far from the Master -that the people no longer found Him in the church? Was it true that -the church had lost its power over the very kind of humanity which -in the early ages of Christianity it reached in the greatest -numbers? How much was true in what the Socialist leader said about -the uselessness of looking to the church for reform or redemption, -because of the selfishness and seclusion and aristocracy of its -members? - -He was more and more impressed with the appalling fact that the -comparatively few men in that hall, now being held quiet for a while -by Rachel's voice, represented thousands of others just like them, -to whom a church and a minister stood for less than a saloon or a -beer garden as a source of comfort or happiness. Ought it to be so? -If the church members were all doing as Jesus would do, could it -remain true that armies of men would walk the streets for jobs and -hundreds of them curse the church and thousands of them find in the -saloon their best friend? How far were the Christians responsible -for this human problem that was personally illustrated right in this -hall tonight? Was it true that the great city churches would as a -rule refuse to walk in Jesus' steps so closely as to -suffer--actually suffer--for His sake? - - - - - - -Chapter Thirty-one - - - - - -HE had planned when he came to the city to return to Raymond and be -in his own pulpit on Sunday. But Friday morning he had received at -the Settlement a call from the pastor of one of the largest churches -in Chicago, and had been invited to fill the pulpit for both morning -and evening service. - -At first he hesitated, but finally accepted, seeing in it the hand -of the Spirit's guiding power. He would test his own question. He -would prove the truth or falsity of the charge made against the -church at the Settlement meeting. How far would it go in its -self-denial for Jesus' sake? How closely would it walk in His steps? -Was the church willing to suffer for its Master? - -Saturday night he spent in prayer, nearly the whole night. There had -never been so great a wrestling in his soul, not even during his -strongest experiences in Raymond. He had in fact entered upon -another new experience. The definition of his own discipleship was -receiving an added test at this time, and he was being led into a -larger truth of the Lord. - -Sunday morning the great church was filled to its utmost. Henry -Maxwell, coming into the pulpit from that all-night vigil, felt the -pressure of a great curiosity on the part of the people. They had -heard of the Raymond movement, as all the churches had, and the -recent action of Dr. Bruce had added to the general interest in the -pledge. With this curiosity was something deeper, more serious. Mr. -Maxwell felt that also. And in the knowledge that the Spirit's -presence was his living strength, he brought his message and gave it -to that church that day. - -He had never been what would be called a great preacher. He had not -the force nor the quality that makes remarkable preachers. But ever -since he had promised to do as Jesus would do, he had grown in a -certain quality of persuasiveness that had all the essentials of -true eloquence. This morning the people felt the complete sincerity -and humility of a man who had gone deep into the heart of a great -truth. - -After telling briefly of some results in his own church in Raymond -since the pledge was taken, he went on to ask the question he had -been asking since the Settlement meeting. He had taken for his theme -the story of the young man who came to Jesus asking what he must do -to obtain eternal life. Jesus had tested him. "Sell all that thou -hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; -and come follow me." But the young man was not willing to suffer to -that extent. If following Jesus meant suffering in that way, he was -not willing. He would like to follow Jesus, but not if he had to -give so much. - -"Is it true," continued Henry Maxwell, and his fine, thoughtful face -glowed with a passion of appeal that stirred the people as they had -seldom been stirred, "is it true that the church of today, the -church that is called after Christ's own name, would refuse to -follow Him at the expense of suffering, of physical loss, of -temporary gain? The statement was made at a large gathering in the -Settlement last week by a leader of workingmen that it was hopeless -to look to the church for any reform or redemption of society. On -what was that statement based? Plainly on the assumption that the -church contains for the most part men and women who think more 'of -their own ease and luxury' than of the sufferings and needs and sins -of humanity. How far is that true? Are the Christians of America -ready to have their discipleship tested? How about the men who -possess large wealth? Are they ready to take that wealth and use it -as Jesus would? How about the men and women of great talent? Are -they ready to consecrate that talent to humanity as Jesus -undoubtedly would do? - -"Is it not true that the call has come in this age for a new -exhibition of Christian discipleship? You who live in this great -sinful city must know that better than I do. Is it possible you can -go your ways careless or thoughtless of the awful condition of men -and women and children who are dying, body and soul, for need of -Christian help? Is it not a matter of concern to you personally that -the saloon kills its thousands more surely than war? Is it not a -matter of personal suffering in some form for you that thousands of -able-bodied, willing men tramp the streets of this city and all -cities, crying for work and drifting into crime and suicide because -they cannot find it? Can you say that this is none of your business? -Let each man look after himself? Would it not be true, think you, -that if every Christian in America did as Jesus would do, society -itself, the business world, yes, the very political system under -which our commercial and governmental activity is carried on, would -be so changed that human suffering would be reduced to a minimum? - -"What would be the result if all the church members of this city -tried to do as Jesus would do? It is not possible to say in detail -what the effect would be. But it is easy to say, and it is true, -that instantly the human problem would begin to find an adequate -answer. - -"What is the test of Christian discipleship? Is it not the same as -in Christ's own time? Have our surroundings modified or changed the -test? If Jesus were here today would He not call some of the members -of this very church to do just what He commanded the young man, and -ask them to give up their wealth and literally follow Him? I believe -He would do that if He felt certain that any church member thought -more of his possessions than of the Savior. The test would be the -same today as then. I believe Jesus would demand He does demand -now--as close a following, as much suffering, as great self-denial -as when He lived in person on the earth and said, 'Except a man -renounce all that he hath he cannot be my disciple.' That is, unless -he is willing to do it for my sake, he cannot be my disciple. - -"What would be the result if in this city every church member should -begin to do as Jesus would do? It is not easy to go into details of -the result. But we all know that certain things would be impossible -that are now practiced by church members. - -"What would Jesus do in the matter of wealth? How would He spend it? -What principle would regulate His use of money? Would He be likely -to live in great luxury and spend ten times as much on personal -adornment and entertainment as He spent to relieve the needs of -suffering humanity? How would Jesus be governed in the making of -money? Would He take rentals from saloons and other disreputable -property, or even from tenement property that was so constructed -that the inmates had no such things as a home and no such -possibility as privacy or cleanliness? - -"What would Jesus do about the great army of unemployed and -desperate who tramp the streets and curse the church, or are -indifferent to it, lost in the bitter struggle for the bread that -tastes bitter when it is earned on account of the desperate conflict -to get it? Would Jesus care nothing for them? Would He go His way in -comparative ease and comfort? Would He say that it was none of His -business? Would He excuse Himself from all responsibility to remove -the causes of such a condition? - -"What would Jesus do in the center of a civilization that hurries so -fast after money that the very girls employed in great business -houses are not paid enough to keep soul and body together without -fearful temptations so great that scores of them fall and are swept -over the great boiling abyss; where the demands of trade sacrifice -hundreds of lads in a business that ignores all Christian duties -toward them in the way of education and moral training and personal -affection? Would Jesus, if He were here today as a part of our age -and commercial industry, feel nothing, do nothing, say nothing, in -the face of these facts which every business man knows? - -"What would Jesus do? Is not that what the disciple ought to do? Is -he not commanded to follow in His steps? How much is the -Christianity of the age suffering for Him? Is it denying itself at -the cost of ease, comfort, luxury, elegance of living? What does the -age need more than personal sacrifice? Does the church do its duty -in following Jesus when it gives a little money to establish -missions or relieve extreme cases of want? Is it any sacrifice for a -man who is worth ten million dollars simply to give ten thousand -dollars for some benevolent work? Is he not giving something that -cost him practically nothing so far as any personal suffering goes? -Is it true that the Christian disciples today in most of our -churches are living soft, easy, selfish lives, very far from any -sacrifice that can be called sacrifice? What would Jesus do? - -"It is the personal element that Christian discipleship needs to -emphasize. 'The gift without the giver is bare.' The Christianity -that attempts to suffer by proxy is not the Christianity of Christ. -Each individual Christian business man, citizen, needs to follow in -His steps along the path of personal sacrifice to Him. There is not -a different path today from that of Jesus' own times. It is the same -path. The call of this dying century and of the new one soon to be, -is a call for a new discipleship, a new following of Jesus, more -like the early, simple, apostolic Christianity, when the disciples -left all and literally followed the Master. Nothing but a -discipleship of this kind can face the destructive selfishness of -the age with any hope of overcoming it. There is a great quantity of -nominal Christianity today. There is need of more of the real kind. -We need revival of the Christianity of Christ. We have, -unconsciously, lazily, selfishly, formally grown into a discipleship -that Jesus himself would not acknowledge. He would say to many of us -when we cry, 'Lord, Lord,' 'I never knew you!' Are we ready to take -up the cross? Is it possible for this church to sing with exact -truth, - -'Jesus, I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow Thee?' - -If we can sing that truly, then we may claim discipleship. But if -our definition of being a Christian is simply to enjoy the -privileges of worship, be generous at no expense to ourselves, have -a good, easy time surrounded by pleasant friends and by comfortable -things, live respectably and at the same time avoid the world's -great stress of sin and trouble because it is too much pain to bear -it--if this is our definition of Christianity, surely we are a long -way from following the steps of Him who trod the way with groans and -tears and sobs of anguish for a lost humanity; who sweat, as it -were, great drops of blood, who cried out on the upreared cross, 'My -God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?' - -"Are we ready to make and live a new discipleship? Are we ready to -reconsider our definition of a Christian? What is it to be a -Christian? It is to imitate Jesus. It is to do as He would do. It is -to walk in His steps." - -When Henry Maxwell finished his sermon, he paused and looked at the -people with a look they never forgot and, at the moment, did not -understand. Crowded into that fashionable church that day were -hundreds of men and women who had for years lived the easy, -satisfied life of a nominal Christianity. A great silence fell over -the congregation. Through the silence there came to the -consciousness of all the souls there present a knowledge, stranger -to them now for years, of a Divine Power. Every one expected the -preacher to call for volunteers who would do as Jesus would do. But -Maxwell had been led by the Spirit to deliver his message this time -and wait for results to come. - -He closed the service with a tender prayer that kept the Divine -Presence lingering very near every hearer, and the people slowly -rose to go out. Then followed a scene that would have been -impossible if any mere man had been alone in his striving for -results. - -Men and women in great numbers crowded around the platform to see -Mr. Maxwell and to bring him the promise of their consecration to -the pledge to do as Jesus would do. It was a voluntary, spontaneous -movement that broke upon his soul with a result he could not -measure. But had he not been praying for is very thing? It was an -answer that more than met his desires. - -There followed this movement a prayer service that in its -impressions repeated the Raymond experience. In the evening, to Mr. -Maxwell's joy, the Endeavor Society almost to a member came forward, -as so many of the church members had done in the morning, and -seriously, solemnly, tenderly, took the pledge to do as Jesus would -do. A deep wave of spiritual baptism broke over the meeting near its -close that was indescribable in its tender, joyful, sympathetic -results. - -That was a remarkable day in the history of that church, but even -more so in the history of Henry Maxwell. He left the meeting very -late. He went to his room at the Settlement where he was still -stopping, and after an hour with the Bishop and Dr. Bruce, spent in -a joyful rehearsal of the wonderful events of the day, he sat down -to think over again by himself all the experience he was having as a -Christian disciple. - -He had kneeled to pray, as he always did before going to sleep, and -it was while he was on his knees that he had a waking vision of what -might be in the world when once the new discipleship had made its -way into the conscience and conscientiousness of Christendom. He was -fully conscious of being awake, but no less certainly did it seem to -him that he saw certain results with great distinctiveness, partly -as realities of the future, partly great longings that they might be -realities. And this is what Henry Maxwell saw in this waking vision: - -He saw himself, first, going back to the First Church in Raymond, -living there in a simpler, more self-denying fashion than he had yet -been willing to live, because he saw ways in which he could help -others who were really dependent on him for help. He also saw, more -dimly, that the time would come when his position as pastor of the -church would cause him to suffer more on account of growing -opposition to his interpretation of Jesus and His conduct. But this -was vaguely outlined. Through it all he heard the words "My grace is -sufficient for thee." - -He saw Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page going on with their work of -service at the Rectangle, and reaching out loving hands of -helpfulness far beyond the limits of Raymond. Rachel he saw married -to Rollin Page, both fully consecrated to the Master's use, both -following His steps with an eagerness intensified and purified by -their love for each other. And Rachel's voice sang on, in slums and -dark places of despair and sin, and drew lost souls back to God and -heaven once more. - -He saw President Marsh of the college using his great learning and -his great influence to purify the city, to ennoble its patriotism, -to inspire the young men and women who loved as well as admired him -to lives of Christian service, always teaching them that education -means great responsibility for the weak and the ignorant. - -He saw Alexander Powers meeting with sore trials in his family life, -with a constant sorrow in the estrangement of wife and friends, but -still going his way in all honor, serving in all his strength the -Master whom he had obeyed, even unto the loss of social distinction -and wealth. - -He saw Milton Wright, the merchant, meeting with great reverses. -Thrown upon the future by a combination of circumstances, with vast -business interests involved in ruin through no fault of his own, but -coming out of his reverses with clean Christian honor, to begin -again and work up to a position where he could again be to hundreds -of young men an example of what Jesus would do in business. - -He saw Edward Norman, editor of the NEWS, by means of the money -given by Virginia, creating a force in journalism that in time came -to be recognized as one of the real factors of the nation to mold -its principles and actually shape its policy, a daily illustration -of the might of a Christian press, and the first of a series of such -papers begun and carried on by other disciples who had also taken -the pledge. - -He saw Jasper Chase, who had denied his Master, growing into a cold, -cynical, formal life, writing novels that were social successes, but -each one with a sting in it, the reminder of his denial, the bitter -remorse that, do what he would, no social success could remove. - -He saw Rose Sterling, dependent for some years upon her aunt and -Felicia, finally married to a man far older than herself, accepting -the burden of a relation that had no love in it on her part, because -of her desire to be the wife of a rich man and enjoy the physical -luxuries that were all of life to her. Over this life also the -vision cast certain dark and awful shadows but they were not shown -in detail. - -He saw Felicia and Stephen Clyde happily married, living a beautiful -life together, enthusiastic, joyful in suffering, pouring out their -great, strong, fragrant service into the dull, dark, terrible places -of the great city, and redeeming souls through the personal touch of -their home, dedicated to the Human Homesickness all about them. - -He saw Dr. Bruce and the Bishop going on with the Settlement work. -He seemed to see the great blazing motto over the door enlarged, -"What would Jesus do?" and by this motto every one who entered the -Settlement walked in the steps of the Master. - -He saw Burns and his companion and a great company of men like them, -redeemed and giving in turn to others, conquering their passions by -the divine grace, and proving by their daily lives the reality of -the new birth even in the lowest and most abandoned. - -And now the vision was troubled. It seemed to him that as he kneeled -he began to pray, and the vision was more of a longing for a future -than a reality in the future. The church of Jesus in the city and -throughout the country! Would it follow Jesus? Was the movement -begun in Raymond to spend itself in a few churches like Nazareth -Avenue and the one where he had preached today, and then die away as -a local movement, a stirring on the surface but not to extend deep -and far? He felt with agony after the vision again. He thought he -saw the church of Jesus in America open its heart to the moving of -the Spirit and rise to the sacrifice of its ease and -self-satisfaction in the name of Jesus. He thought he saw the motto, -"What would Jesus do?" inscribed over every church door, and written -on every church member's heart. - -The vision vanished. It came back clearer than before, and he saw -the Endeavor Societies all over the world carrying in their great -processions at some mighty convention a banner on which was written, -"What would Jesus do?" And he thought in the faces of the young men -and women he saw future joy of suffering, loss, self-denial, -martyrdom. And when this part of the vision slowly faded, he saw the -figure of the Son of God beckoning to him and to all the other -actors in his life history. An Angel Choir somewhere was singing. -There was a sound as of many voices and a shout as of a great -victory. And the figure of Jesus grew more and more splendid. He -stood at the end of a long flight of steps. "Yes! Yes! O my Master, -has not the time come for this dawn of the millennium of Christian -history? Oh, break upon the Christendom of this age with the light -and the truth! Help us to follow Thee all the way!" - -He rose at last with the awe of one who has looked at heavenly -things. He felt the human forces and the human sins of the world as -never before. And with a hope that walks hand in hand with faith and -love Henry Maxwell, disciple of Jesus, laid him down to sleep and -dreamed of the regeneration of Christendom, and saw in his dream a -church of Jesus without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, following -him all the way, walking obediently in His steps. - -THE END - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of In His Steps, by Charles M. Sheldon - |