{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_4540/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_4540","id":"gutenberg_4540","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4540","summary":null,"tags":["Category: American Literature","Category: Novels","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christian fiction","Clergy -- Fiction","Jesus Christ -- Influence -- Fiction"],"text":"In His Steps\n\n\nby\n\nCharles M. Sheldon\n\n\nJTABLEA 10 31 1\n\n\n\nChapter One\n\n\n\"For hereunto were ye called; because Christ also suffered for you,\nleaving you an example, that ye should follow in his steps.\"\n\n\nIt was Friday morning and the Rev. Henry Maxwell was trying to\nfinish his Sunday morning sermon. He had been interrupted several\ntimes and was growing nervous as the morning wore away, and the\nsermon grew very slowly toward a satisfactory finish.\n\n\"Mary,\" he called to his wife, as he went upstairs after the last\ninterruption, \"if any one comes after this, I wish you would say I\nam very busy and cannot come down unless it is something very\nimportant.\"\n\n\"Yes, Henry. But I am going over to visit the kindergarten and you\nwill have the house all to yourself.\"\n\nThe minister went up into his study and shut the door. In a few\nminutes he heard his wife go out, and then everything was quiet. He\nsettled himself at his desk with a sigh of relief and began to\nwrite. His text was from 1 Peter 2:21: \"For hereunto were ye called;\nbecause Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that ye\nshould follow his steps.\"\n\nHe had emphasized in the first part of the sermon the Atonement as a\npersonal sacrifice, calling attention to the fact of Jesus'\nsuffering in various ways, in His life as well as in His death. He\nhad then gone on to emphasize the Atonement from the side of\nexample, giving illustrations from the life and teachings of Jesus\nto show how faith in the Christ helped to save men because of the\npattern or character He displayed for their imitation. He was now on\nthe third and last point, the necessity of following Jesus in His\nsacrifice and example.\n\nHe had put down \"Three Steps. What are they?\" and was about to\nenumerate them in logical order when the bell rang sharply. It was\none of those clock-work bells, and always went off as a clock might\ngo if it tried to strike twelve all at once.\n\nHenry Maxwell sat at his desk and frowned a little. He made no\nmovement to answer the bell. Very soon it rang again; then he rose\nand walked over to one of his windows which commanded the view of\nthe front door. A man was standing on the steps. He was a young man,\nvery shabbily dressed.\n\n\"Looks like a tramp,\" said the minister. \"I suppose I'll have to go\ndown and--\"\n\nHe did not finish his sentence but he went downstairs and opened the\nfront door. There was a moment's pause as the two men stood facing\neach other, then the shabby-looking young man said:\n\n\"I'm out of a job, sir, and thought maybe you might put me in the\nway of getting something.\"\n\n\"I don't know of anything. Jobs are scarce--\" replied the minister,\nbeginning to shut the door slowly.\n\n\"I didn't know but you might perhaps be able to give me a line to\nthe city railway or the superintendent of the shops, or something,\"\ncontinued the young man, shifting his faded hat from one hand to the\nother nervously.\n\n\"It would be of no use. You will have to excuse me. I am very busy\nthis morning. I hope you will find something. Sorry I can't give you\nsomething to do here. But I keep only a horse and a cow and do the\nwork myself.\"\n\nThe Rev. Henry Maxwell closed the door and heard the man walk down\nthe steps. As he went up into his study he saw from his hall window\nthat the man was going slowly down the street, still holding his hat\nbetween his hands. There was something in the figure so dejected,\nhomeless and forsaken that the minister hesitated a moment as he\nstood looking at it. Then he turned to his desk and with a sigh\nbegan the writing where he had left off.\n\nHe had no more interruptions, and when his wife came in two hours\nlater the sermon was finished, the loose leaves gathered up and\nneatly tied together, and laid on his Bible all ready for the Sunday\nmorning service.\n\n\"A queer thing happened at the kindergarten this morning, Henry,\"\nsaid his wife while they were eating dinner. \"You know I went over\nwith Mrs. Brown to visit the school, and just after the games, while\nthe children were at the tables, the door opened and a young man\ncame in holding a dirty hat in both hands. He sat down near the door\nand never said a word; only looked at the children. He was evidently\na tramp, and Miss Wren and her assistant Miss Kyle were a little\nfrightened at first, but he sat there very quietly and after a few\nminutes he went out.\"\n\n\"Perhaps he was tired and wanted to rest somewhere. The same man\ncalled here, I think. Did you say he looked like a tramp?\"\n\n\"Yes, very dusty, shabby and generally tramp-like. Not more than\nthirty or thirty-three years old, I should say.\"\n\n\"The same man,\" said the Rev. Henry Maxwell thoughtfully.\n\n\"Did you finish your sermon, Henry?\" his wife asked after a pause.\n\n\"Yes, all done. It has been a very busy week with me. The two\nsermons have cost me a good deal of labor.\"\n\n\"They will be appreciated by a large audience, Sunday, I hope,\"\nreplied his wife smiling. \"What are you going to preach about in the\nmorning?\"\n\n\"Following Christ. I take up the Atonement under the head of\nsacrifice and example, and then show the steps needed to follow His\nsacrifice and example.\"\n\n\"I am sure it is a good sermon. I hope it won't rain Sunday. We have\nhad so many stormy Sundays lately.\"\n\n\"Yes, the audiences have been quite small for some time. People will\nnot come out to church in a storm.\" The Rev. Henry Maxwell sighed as\nhe said it. He was thinking of the careful, laborious effort he had\nmade in preparing sermons for large audiences that failed to appear.\n\nBut Sunday morning dawned on the town of Raymond one of the perfect\ndays that sometimes come after long periods of wind and mud and\nrain. The air was clear and bracing, the sky was free from all\nthreatening signs, and every one in Mr. Maxwell's parish prepared to\ngo to church. When the service opened at eleven o'clock the large\nbuilding was filled with an audience of the best-dressed, most\ncomfortable looking people of Raymond.\n\nThe First Church of Raymond believed in having the best music that\nmoney could buy, and its quartet choir this morning was a source of\ngreat pleasure to the congregation. The anthem was inspiring. All\nthe music was in keeping with the subject of the sermon. And the\nanthem was an elaborate adaptation to the most modern music of the\nhymn,\n\n    \"Jesus, I my cross have taken,\n     All to leave and follow Thee.\"\n\nJust before the sermon, the soprano sang a solo, the well-known\nhymn,\n\n    \"Where He leads me I will follow,\n     I'll go with Him, with Him, all the way.\"\n\nRachel Winslow looked very beautiful that morning as she stood up\nbehind the screen of carved oak which was significantly marked with\nthe emblems of the cross and the crown. Her voice was even more\nbeautiful than her face, and that meant a great deal. There was a\ngeneral rustle of expectation over the audience as she rose. Mr.\nMaxwell settled himself contentedly behind the pulpit. Rachel\nWinslow's singing always helped him. He generally arranged for a\nsong before the sermon. It made possible a certain inspiration of\nfeeling that made his delivery more impressive.\n\nPeople said to themselves they had never heard such singing even in\nthe First Church. It is certain that if it had not been a church\nservice, her solo would have been vigorously applauded. It even\nseemed to the minister when she sat down that something like an\nattempted clapping of hands or a striking of feet on the floor swept\nthrough the church. He was startled by it. As he rose, however, and\nlaid his sermon on the Bible, he said to himself he had been\ndeceived. Of course it could not occur. In a few moments he was\nabsorbed in his sermon and everything else was forgotten in the\npleasure of his delivery.\n\nNo one had ever accused Henry Maxwell of being a dull preacher. On\nthe contrary, he had often been charged with being sensational; not\nin what he had said so much as in his way of saying it. But the\nFirst Church people liked that. It gave their preacher and their\nparish a pleasant distinction that was agreeable.\n\nIt was also true that the pastor of the First Church loved to\npreach. He seldom exchanged. He was eager to be in his own pulpit\nwhen Sunday came. There was an exhilarating half hour for him as he\nfaced a church full of people and know that he had a hearing. He was\npeculiarly sensitive to variations in the attendance. He never\npreached well before a small audience. The weather also affected him\ndecidedly. He was at his best before just such an audience as faced\nhim now, on just such a morning. He felt a glow of satisfaction as\nhe went on. The church was the first in the city. It had the best\nchoir. It had a membership composed of the leading people,\nrepresentatives of the wealth, society and intelligence of Raymond.\nHe was going abroad on a three months vacation in the summer, and\nthe circumstances of his pastorate, his influence and his position\nas pastor of the First Church in the city--\n\nIt is not certain that the Rev. Henry Maxwell knew just how he could\ncarry on that thought in connection with his sermon, but as he drew\nnear the end of it he knew that he had at some point in his delivery\nhad all those feelings. They had entered into the very substance of\nhis thought; it might have been all in a few seconds of time, but he\nhad been conscious of defining his position and his emotions as well\nas if he had held a soliloquy, and his delivery partook of the\nthrill of deep personal satisfaction.\n\nThe sermon was interesting. It was full of striking sentences. They\nwould have commanded attention printed. Spoken with the passion of a\ndramatic utterance that had the good taste never to offend with a\nsuspicion of ranting or declamation, they were very effective. If\nthe Rev. Henry Maxwell that morning felt satisfied with the\nconditions of his pastorate, the First Church also had a similar\nfeeling as it congratulated itself on the presence in the pulpit of\nthis scholarly, refined, somewhat striking face and figure,\npreaching with such animation and freedom from all vulgar, noisy or\ndisagreeable mannerism.\n\nSuddenly, into the midst of this perfect accord and concord between\npreacher and audience, there came a very remarkable interruption. It\nwould be difficult to indicate the extent of the shock which this\ninterruption measured. It was so unexpected, so entirely contrary to\nany thought of any person present that it offered no room for\nargument or, for the time being, of resistance.\n\nThe sermon had come to a close. Mr. Maxwell had just turned the half\nof the big Bible over upon his manuscript and was about to sit down\nas the quartet prepared to arise to sing the closing selection,\n\n    \"All for Jesus, all for Jesus,\n     All my being's ransomed powers...\"\n\nwhen the entire congregation was startled by the sound of a man's\nvoice. It came from the rear of the church, from one of the seats\nunder the gallery. The next moment the figure of a man came out of\nthe shadow there and walked down the middle aisle.\n\nBefore the startled congregation fairly realized what was going on\nthe man had reached the open space in front of the pulpit and had\nturned about facing the people.\n\n\"I've been wondering since I came in here\"--they were the words he\nused under the gallery, and he repeated them--\"if it would be just\nthe thing to say a word at the close of the service. I'm not drunk\nand I'm not crazy, and I am perfectly harmless, but if I die, as\nthere is every likelihood I shall in a few days, I want the\nsatisfaction of thinking that I said my say in a place like this,\nand before this sort of a crowd.\"\n\nHenry Maxwell had not taken his seat, and he now remained standing,\nleaning on his pulpit, looking down at the stranger. It was the man\nwho had come to his house the Friday before, the same dusty, worn,\nshabby-looking young man. He held his faded hat in his two hands. It\nseemed to be a favorite gesture. He had not been shaved and his hair\nwas rough and tangled. It is doubtful if any one like this had ever\nconfronted the First Church within the sanctuary. It was tolerably\nfamiliar with this sort of humanity out on the street, around the\nrailroad shops, wandering up and down the avenue, but it had never\ndreamed of such an incident as this so near.\n\nThere was nothing offensive in the man's manner or tone. He was not\nexcited and he spoke in a low but distinct voice. Mr. Maxwell was\nconscious, even as he stood there smitten into dumb astonishment at\nthe event, that somehow the man's action reminded him of a person he\nhad once seen walking and talking in his sleep.\n\nNo one in the house made any motion to stop the stranger or in any\nway interrupt him. Perhaps the first shock of his sudden appearance\ndeepened into a genuine perplexity concerning what was best to do.\nHowever that may be, he went on as if he had no thought of\ninterruption and no thought of the unusual element which he had\nintroduced into the decorum of the First Church service. And all the\nwhile he was speaking, the minister leaded over the pulpit, his face\ngrowing more white and sad every moment. But he made no movement to\nstop him, and the people sat smitten into breathless silence. One\nother face, that of Rachel Winslow from the choir, stared white and\nintent down at the shabby figure with the faded hat. Her face was\nstriking at any time. Under the pressure of the present unheard-of\nincident it was as personally distinct as if it had been framed in\nfire.\n\n\"I'm not an ordinary tramp, though I don't know of any teaching of\nJesus that makes one kind of a tramp less worth saving than another.\nDo you?\" He put the question as naturally as if the whole\ncongregation had been a small Bible class. He paused just a moment\nand coughed painfully. Then he went on.\n\n\"I lost my job ten months ago. I am a printer by trade. The new\nlinotype machines are beautiful specimens of invention, but I know\nsix men who have killed themselves inside of the year just on\naccount of those machines. Of course I don't blame the newspapers\nfor getting the machines. Meanwhile, what can a man do? I know I\nnever learned but the one trade, and that's all I can do. I've\ntramped all over the country trying to find something. There are a\ngood many others like me. I'm not complaining, am I? Just stating\nfacts. But I was wondering as I sat there under the gallery, if what\nyou call following Jesus is the same thing as what He taught. What\ndid He mean when He said: 'Follow Me!'? The minister said,\"--here he\nturned about and looked up at the pulpit--\"that it is necessary for\nthe disciple of Jesus to follow His steps, and he said the steps are\n'obedience, faith, love and imitation.' But I did not hear him tell\nyou just what he meant that to mean, especially the last step. What\ndo you Christians mean by following the steps of Jesus?\n\n\"I've tramped through this city for three days trying to find a job;\nand in all that time I've not had a word of sympathy or comfort\nexcept from your minister here, who said he was sorry for me and\nhoped I would find a job somewhere. I suppose it is because you get\nso imposed on by the professional tramp that you have lost your\ninterest in any other sort. I'm not blaming anybody, am I? Just\nstating facts. Of course, I understand you can't all go out of your\nway to hunt up jobs for other people like me. I'm not asking you to;\nbut what I feel puzzled about is, what is meant by following Jesus.\nWhat do you mean when you sing 'I'll go with Him, with Him, all the\nway?' Do you mean that you are suffering and denying yourselves and\ntrying to save lost, suffering humanity just as I understand Jesus\ndid? What do you mean by it? I see the ragged edge of things a good\ndeal. I understand there are more than five hundred men in this city\nin my case. Most of them have families. My wife died four months\nago. I'm glad she is out of trouble. My little girl is staying with\na printer's family until I find a job. Somehow I get puzzled when I\nsee so many Christians living in luxury and singing 'Jesus, I my\ncross have taken, all to leave and follow Thee,' and remember how my\nwife died in a tenement in New York City, gasping for air and asking\nGod to take the little girl too. Of course I don't expect you people\ncan prevent every one from dying of starvation, lack of proper\nnourishment and tenement air, but what does following Jesus mean? I\nunderstand that Christian people own a good many of the tenements. A\nmember of a church was the owner of the one where my wife died, and\nI have wondered if following Jesus all the way was true in his case.\nI heard some people singing at a church prayer meeting the other\nnight,\n\n    'All for Jesus, all for Jesus,\n     All my being's ransomed powers,\n     All my thoughts, and all my doings,\n     All my days, and all my hours.'\n\nand I kept wondering as I sat on the steps outside just what they\nmeant by it. It seems to me there's an awful lot of trouble in the\nworld that somehow wouldn't exist if all the people who sing such\nsongs went and lived them out. I suppose I don't understand. But\nwhat would Jesus do? Is that what you mean by following His steps?\nIt seems to me sometimes as if the people in the big churches had\ngood clothes and nice houses to live in, and money to spend for\nluxuries, and could go away on summer vacations and all that, while\nthe people outside the churches, thousands of them, I mean, die in\ntenements, and walk the streets for jobs, and never have a piano or\na picture in the house, and grow up in misery and drunkenness and\nsin.\"\n\nThe man suddenly gave a queer lurch over in the direction of the\ncommunion table and laid one grimy hand on it. His hat fell upon the\ncarpet at his feet. A stir went through the congregation. Dr. West\nhalf rose from his pew, but as yet the silence was unbroken by any\nvoice or movement worth mentioning in the audience. The man passed\nhis other hand across his eyes, and then, without any warning, fell\nheavily forward on his face, full length up the aisle. Henry Maxwell\nspoke:\n\n\"We will consider the service closed.\"\n\nHe was down the pulpit stairs and kneeling by the prostrate form before\nany one else. The audience instantly rose and the aisles were crowded.\nDr. West pronounced the man alive. He had fainted away. \"Some heart\ntrouble,\" the doctor also muttered as he helped carry him out into the\npastor's study.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Two\n\n\nHenry Maxwell and a group of his church members remained some time\nin the study. The man lay on the couch there and breathed heavily.\nWhen the question of what to do with him came up, the minister\ninsisted on taking the man to his own house; he lived near by and\nhad an extra room. Rachel Winslow said:\n\n\"Mother has no company at present. I am sure we would be glad to\ngive him a place with us.\"\n\nShe looked strongly agitated. No one noticed it particularly. They\nwere all excited over the strange event, the strangest that First\nChurch people could remember. But the minister insisted on taking\ncharge of the man, and when a carriage came the unconscious but\nliving form was carried to his house; and with the entrance of that\nhumanity into the minister's spare room a new chapter in Henry\nMaxwell's life began, and yet no one, himself least of all, dreamed\nof the remarkable change it was destined to make in all his after\ndefinition of the Christian discipleship.\n\nThe event created a great sensation in the First Church parish.\nPeople talked of nothing else for a week. It was the general\nimpression that the man had wandered into the church in a condition\nof mental disturbance caused by his troubles, and that all the time\nhe was talking he was in a strange delirium of fever and really\nignorant of his surroundings. That was the most charitable\nconstruction to put upon his action. It was the general agreement\nalso that there was a singular absence of anything bitter or\ncomplaining in what the man had said. He had, throughout, spoken in\na mild, apologetic tone, almost as if he were one of the\ncongregation seeking for light on a very difficult subject.\n\nThe third day after his removal to the minister's house there was a\nmarked change in his condition. The doctor spoke of it but offered\nno hope. Saturday morning he still lingered, although he had rapidly\nfailed as the week drew near its close. Sunday morning, just before\nthe clock struck one, he rallied and asked if his child had come.\nThe minister had sent for her at once as soon as he had been able to\nsecure her address from some letters found in the man's pocket. He\nhad been conscious and able to talk coherently only a few moments\nsince his attack.\n\n\"The child is coming. She will be here,\" Mr. Maxwell said as he sat\nthere, his face showing marks of the strain of the week's vigil; for\nhe had insisted on sitting up nearly every night.\n\n\"I shall never see her in this world,\" the man whispered. Then he\nuttered with great difficulty the words, \"You have been good to me.\nSomehow I feel as if it was what Jesus would do.\"\n\nAfter a few minutes he turned his head slightly, and before Mr.\nMaxwell could realize the fact, the doctor said quietly, \"He is\ngone.\"\n\nThe Sunday morning that dawned on the city of Raymond was exactly\nlike the Sunday of a week before. Mr. Maxwell entered his pulpit to\nface one of the largest congregations that had ever crowded the\nFirst Church. He was haggard and looked as if he had just risen from\na long illness. His wife was at home with the little girl, who had\ncome on the morning train an hour after her father had died. He lay\nin that spare room, his troubles over, and the minister could see\nthe face as he opened the Bible and arranged his different notices\non the side of the desk as he had been in the habit of doing for ten\nyears.\n\nThe service that morning contained a new element. No one could\nremember when Henry Maxwell had preached in the morning without\nnotes. As a matter of fact he had done so occasionally when he first\nentered the ministry, but for a long time he had carefully written\nevery word of his morning sermon, and nearly always his evening\ndiscourses as well. It cannot be said that his sermon this morning\nwas striking or impressive. He talked with considerable hesitation.\nIt was evident that some great idea struggled in his thought for\nutterance, but it was not expressed in the theme he had chosen for\nhis preaching. It was near the close of his sermon that he began to\ngather a certain strength that had been painfully lacking at the\nbeginning.\n\nHe closed the Bible and, stepping out at the side of the desk, faced\nhis people and began to talk to them about the remarkable scene of\nthe week before.\n\n\"Our brother,\" somehow the words sounded a little strange coming\nfrom his lips, \"passed away this morning. I have not yet had time to\nlearn all his history. He had one sister living in Chicago. I have\nwritten her and have not yet received an answer. His little girl is\nwith us and will remain for the time.\"\n\nHe paused and looked over the house. He thought he had never seen so\nmany earnest faces during his entire pastorate. He was not able yet\nto tell his people his experiences, the crisis through which he was\neven now moving. But something of his feeling passed from him to\nthem, and it did not seem to him that he was acting under a careless\nimpulse at all to go on and break to them this morning something of\nthe message he bore in his heart.\n\nSo he went on: \"The appearance and words of this stranger in the\nchurch last Sunday made a very powerful impression on me. I am not\nable to conceal from you or myself the fact that what he said,\nfollowed as it has been by his death in my house, has compelled me\nto ask as I never asked before 'What does following Jesus mean?' I\nam not in a position yet to utter any condemnation of this people\nor, to a certain extent, of myself, either in our Christ-like\nrelations to this man or the numbers that he represents in the\nworld. But all that does not prevent me from feeling that much that\nthe man said was so vitally true that we must face it in an attempt\nto answer it or else stand condemned as Christian disciples. A good\ndeal that was said here last Sunday was in the nature of a challenge\nto Christianity as it is seen and felt in our churches. I have felt\nthis with increasing emphasis every day since.\n\n\"And I do not know that any time is more appropriate than the\npresent for me to propose a plan, or a purpose, which has been\nforming in my mind as a satisfactory reply to much that was said\nhere last Sunday.\"\n\nAgain Henry Maxwell paused and looked into the faces of his people.\nThere were some strong, earnest men and women in the First Church.\n\nHe could see Edward Norman, editor of the Raymond DAILY NEWS. He had\nbeen a member of the First Church for ten years.\n\nNo man was more honored in the community. There was Alexander\nPowers, superintendent of the great railroad shops in Raymond, a\ntypical railroad man, one who had been born into the business. There\nsat Donald Marsh, president of Lincoln College, situated in the\nsuburbs of Raymond. There was Milton Wright, one of the great\nmerchants of Raymond, having in his employ at least one hundred men\nin various shops. There was Dr. West who, although still\ncomparatively young, was quoted as authority in special surgical\ncases. There was young Jasper Chase the author, who had written one\nsuccessful book and was said to be at work on a new novel. There was\nMiss Virginia Page the heiress, who through the recent death of her\nfather had inherited a million at least, and was gifted with unusual\nattractions of person and intellect. And not least of all, Rachel\nWinslow, from her seat in the choir, glowed with her peculiar beauty\nof light this morning because she was so intensely interested in the\nwhole scene.\n\nThere was some reason, perhaps, in view of such material in the\nFirst Church, for Henry Maxwell's feeling of satisfaction whenever\nhe considered his parish as he had the previous Sunday. There was an\nunusually large number of strong, individual characters who claimed\nmembership there. But as he noted their faces this morning he was\nsimply wondering how many of them would respond to the strange\nproposition he was about to make. He continued slowly, taking time\nto choose his words carefully, and giving the people an impression\nthey had never felt before, even when he was at his best with his\nmost dramatic delivery.\n\n\"What I am going to propose now is something which ought not to\nappear unusual or at all impossible of execution. Yet I am aware\nthat it will be so regarded by a large number, perhaps, of the\nmembers of this church. But in order that we may have a thorough\nunderstanding of what we are considering, I will put my proposition\nvery plainly, perhaps bluntly. I want volunteers from the First\nChurch who will pledge themselves, earnestly and honestly for an\nentire year, not to do anything without first asking the question,\n'What would Jesus do?' And after asking that question, each one will\nfollow Jesus as exactly as he knows how, no matter what the result\nmay be. I will of course include myself in this company of\nvolunteers, and shall take for granted that my church here will not\nbe surprised at my future conduct, as based upon this standard of\naction, and will not oppose whatever is done if they think Christ\nwould do it. Have I made my meaning clear? At the close of the\nservice I want all those members who are willing to join such a\ncompany to remain and we will talk over the details of the plan. Our\nmotto will be, 'What would Jesus do?' Our aim will be to act just as\nHe would if He was in our places, regardless of immediate results.\nIn other words, we propose to follow Jesus' steps as closely and as\nliterally as we believe He taught His disciples to do. And those who\nvolunteer to do this will pledge themselves for an entire year,\nbeginning with today, so to act.\"\n\nHenry Maxwell paused again and looked out over his people. It is not\neasy to describe the sensation that such a simple proposition\napparently made. Men glanced at one another in astonishment. It was\nnot like Henry Maxwell to define Christian discipleship in this way.\nThere was evident confusion of thought over his proposition. It was\nunderstood well enough, but there was, apparently, a great\ndifference of opinion as to the application of Jesus' teaching and\nexample.\n\nHe calmly closed the service with a brief prayer. The organist began\nhis postlude immediately after the benediction and the people began\nto go out. There was a great deal of conversation. Animated groups\nstood all over the church discussing the minister's proposition. It\nwas evidently provoking great discussion. After several minutes he\nasked all who expected to remain to pass into the lecture-room which\njoined the large room on the side. He was himself detained at the\nfront of the church talking with several persons there, and when he\nfinally turned around, the church was empty. He walked over to the\nlecture-room entrance and went in. He was almost startled to see the\npeople who were there. He had not made up his mind about any of his\nmembers, but he had hardly expected that so many were ready to enter\ninto such a literal testing of their Christian discipleship as now\nawaited him. There were perhaps fifty present, among them Rachel\nWinslow and Virginia Page, Mr. Norman, President Marsh, Alexander\nPowers the railroad superintendent, Milton Wright, Dr. West and\nJasper Chase.\n\nHe closed the door of the lecture-room and went and stood before the\nlittle group. His face was pale and his lips trembled with genuine\nemotion. It was to him a genuine crisis in his own life and that of\nhis parish. No man can tell until he is moved by the Divine Spirit\nwhat he may do, or how he may change the current of a lifetime of\nfixed habits of thought and speech and action. Henry Maxwell did\nnot, as we have said, yet know himself all that he was passing\nthrough, but he was conscious of a great upheaval in his definition\nof Christian discipleship, and he was moved with a depth of feeling\nhe could not measure as he looked into the faces of those men and\nwomen on this occasion.\n\nIt seemed to him that the most fitting word to be spoken first was\nthat of prayer. He asked them all to pray with him. And almost with\nthe first syllable he uttered there was a distinct presence of the\nSpirit felt by them all. As the prayer went on, this presence grew\nin power. They all felt it. The room was filled with it as plainly\nas if it had been visible. When the prayer closed there was a\nsilence that lasted several moments. All the heads were bowed. Henry\nMaxwell's face was wet with tears. If an audible voice from heaven\nhad sanctioned their pledge to follow the Master's steps, not one\nperson present could have felt more certain of the divine blessing.\nAnd so the most serious movement ever started in the First Church of\nRaymond was begun.\n\n\"We all understand,\" said he, speaking very quietly, \"what we have\nundertaken to do. We pledge ourselves to do everything in our daily\nlives after asking the question, 'What would Jesus do?' regardless\nof what may be the result to us. Some time I shall be able to tell\nyou what a marvelous change has come over my life within a week's\ntime. I cannot now. But the experience I have been through since\nlast Sunday has left me so dissatisfied with my previous definition\nof Christian discipleship that I have been compelled to take this\naction. I did not dare begin it alone. I know that I am being led by\nthe hand of divine love in all this. The same divine impulse must\nhave led you also.\n\n\"Do we understand fully what we have undertaken?\"\n\n\"I want to ask a question,\" said Rachel Winslow. Every one turned\ntowards her. Her face glowed with a beauty that no physical\nloveliness could ever create.\n\n\"I am a little in doubt as to the source of our knowledge concerning\nwhat Jesus would do. Who is to decide for me just what He would do\nin my case? It is a different age. There are many perplexing\nquestions in our civilization that are not mentioned in the\nteachings of Jesus. How am I going to tell what He would do?\"\n\n\"There is no way that I know of,\" replied the pastor, \"except as we\nstudy Jesus through the medium of the Holy Spirit. You remember what\nChrist said speaking to His disciples about the Holy Spirit:\n'Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he shall guide you\ninto all the truth: for he shall not speak from himself; but what\nthings soever he shall hear, these shall he speak: and he shall\ndeclare unto you the things that are to come. He shall glorify me;\nfor he shall take of mine, and shall declare it unto you. All things\nwhatsoever the Father hath are mine: therefore said I, that he\ntaketh of mine, and shall declare it unto you.' There is no other\ntest that I know of. We shall all have to decide what Jesus would do\nafter going to that source of knowledge.\"\n\n\"What if others say of us, when we do certain things, that Jesus\nwould not do so?\" asked the superintendent of railroads.\n\n\"We cannot prevent that. But we must be absolutely honest with\nourselves. The standard of Christian action cannot vary in most of\nour acts.\"\n\n\"And yet what one church member thinks Jesus would do, another\nrefuses to accept as His probable course of action. What is to\nrender our conduct uniformly Christ-like? Will it be possible to\nreach the same conclusions always in all cases?\" asked President\nMarsh.\n\nMr. Maxwell was silent some time. Then he answered, \"No; I don't\nknow that we can expect that. But when it comes to a genuine,\nhonest, enlightened following of Jesus' steps, I cannot believe\nthere will be any confusion either in our own minds or in the\njudgment of others. We must be free from fanaticism on one hand and\ntoo much caution on the other. If Jesus' example is the example for\nthe world to follow, it certainly must be feasible to follow it. But\nwe need to remember this great fact. After we have asked the Spirit\nto tell us what Jesus would do and have received an answer to it, we\nare to act regardless of the results to ourselves. Is that\nunderstood?\"\n\nAll the faces in the room were raised towards the minister in solemn\nassent. There was no misunderstanding that proposition. Henry\nMaxwell's face quivered again as he noted the president of the\nEndeavor Society with several members seated back of the older men\nand women.\n\nThey remained a little longer talking over details and asking\nquestions, and agreed to report to one another every week at a regular\nmeeting the result of their experiences in following Jesus this way.\nHenry Maxwell prayed again. And again as before the Spirit made Himself\nmanifest. Every head remained bowed a long time. They went away finally\nin silence. There was a feeling that prevented speech. The pastor shook\nhands with them all as they went out. Then he went into his own study\nroom back of the pulpit and kneeled. He remained there alone nearly\nhalf an hour. When he went home he went into the room where the dead\nbody lay. As he looked at the face he cried in his heart again for\nstrength and wisdom. But not even yet did he realize that a movement\nhad begun which would lead to the most remarkable series of events that\nthe city of Raymond had ever known.\n\n\n\nChapter Three\n\n\n\"He that saith he abideth in Him ought himself also to walk even as\nHe walked.\"\n\n\nEDWARD NORMAN, editor of the Raymond DAILY NEWS, sat in his office\nroom Monday morning and faced a new world of action. He had made his\npledge in good faith to do everything after asking \"What would Jesus\ndo?\" and, as he supposed, with his eyes open to all the possible\nresults. But as the regular life of the paper started on another\nweek's rush and whirl of activity, he confronted it with a degree of\nhesitation and a feeling nearly akin to fear.\n\nHe had come down to the office very early, and for a few minutes was\nby himself. He sat at his desk in a growing thoughtfulness that\nfinally became a desire which he knew was as great as it was\nunusual. He had yet to learn, with all the others in that little\ncompany pledged to do the Christlike thing, that the Spirit of Life\nwas moving in power through his own life as never before. He rose\nand shut his door, and then did what he had not done for years. He\nkneeled down by his desk and prayed for the Divine Presence and\nwisdom to direct him.\n\nHe rose with the day before him, and his promise distinct and clear\nin his mind. \"Now for action,\" he seemed to say. But he would be led\nby events as fast as they came on.\n\nHe opened his door and began the routine of the office work. The\nmanaging editor had just come in and was at his desk in the\nadjoining room. One of the reporters there was pounding out\nsomething on a typewriter. Edward Norman began to write an\neditorial. The DAILY NEWS was an evening paper, and Norman usually\ncompleted his leading editorial before nine o'clock.\n\nHe had been writing for fifteen minutes when the managing editor\ncalled out: \"Here's this press report of yesterday's prize fight at\nthe Resort. It will make up three columns and a half. I suppose it\nall goes in?\"\n\nNorman was one of those newspaper men who keep an eye on every\ndetail of the paper. The managing editor always consulted his chief\nin matters of both small and large importance. Sometimes, as in this\ncase, it was merely a nominal inquiry.\n\n\"Yes--No. Let me see it.\"\n\nHe took the type-written matter just as it came from the telegraph\neditor and ran over it carefully. Then he laid the sheets down on\nhis desk and did some very hard thinking.\n\n\"We won't run this today,\" he said finally.\n\nThe managing editor was standing in the doorway between the two\nrooms. He was astounded at his chief's remark, and thought he had\nperhaps misunderstood him.\n\n\"What did you say?\"\n\n\"Leave it out. We won't use it.\"\n\n\"But--\" The managing editor was simply dumbfounded. He stared at\nNorman as if the man was out of his mind.\n\n\"I don't think, Clark, that it ought to be printed, and that's the\nend of it,\" said Norman, looking up from his desk.\n\nClark seldom had any words with the chief. His word had always been\nlaw in the office and he had seldom been known to change his mind.\nThe circumstances now, however, seemed to be so extraordinary that\nClark could not help expressing himself.\n\n\"Do you mean that the paper is to go to press without a word of the\nprize fight in it?\"\n\n\"Yes. That's what I mean.\"\n\n\"But it's unheard of. All the other papers will print it. What will\nour subscribers say? Why, it is simply--\" Clark paused, unable to\nfind words to say what he thought.\n\nNorman looked at Clark thoughtfully. The managing editor was a\nmember of a church of a different denomination from that of\nNorman's. The two men had never talked together on religious matters\nalthough they had been associated on the paper for several years.\n\n\"Come in here a minute, Clark, and shut the door,\" said Norman.\n\nClark came in and the two men faced each other alone. Norman did not\nspeak for a minute. Then he said abruptly: \"Clark, if Christ was\neditor of a daily paper, do you honestly think He would print three\ncolumns and a half of prize fight in it?\"\n\n\"No, I don't suppose He would.\"\n\n\"Well, that's my only reason for shutting this account out of the\nNEWS. I have decided not to do a thing in connection with the paper\nfor a whole year that I honestly believe Jesus would not do.\"\n\nClark could not have looked more amazed if the chief had suddenly\ngone crazy. In fact, he did think something was wrong, though Mr.\nNorman was one of the last men in the world, in his judgment, to\nlose his mind.\n\n\"What effect will that have on the paper?\" he finally managed to ask\nin a faint voice.\n\n\"What do you think?\" asked Norman with a keen glance.\n\n\"I think it will simply ruin the paper,\" replied Clark promptly. He\nwas gathering up his bewildered senses, and began to remonstrate,\n\"Why, it isn't feasible to run a paper nowadays on any such basis.\nIt's too ideal. The world isn't ready for it. You can't make it pay.\nJust as sure as you live, if you shut out this prize fight report\nyou will lose hundreds of subscribers. It doesn't take a prophet to\nsee that. The very best people in town are eager to read it. They\nknow it has taken place, and when they get the paper this evening\nthey will expect half a page at least. Surely, you can't afford to\ndisregard the wishes of the public to such an extent. It will be a\ngreat mistake if you do, in my opinion.\"\n\nNorman sat silent a minute. Then he spoke gently but firmly.\n\n\"Clark, what in your honest opinion is the right standard for\ndetermining conduct? Is the only right standard for every one, the\nprobable action of Jesus Christ? Would you say that the highest,\nbest law for a man to live by was contained in asking the question,\nWhat would Jesus do?' And then doing it regardless of results? In\nother words, do you think men everywhere ought to follow Jesus'\nexample as closely as they can in their daily lives?\" Clark turned\nred, and moved uneasily in his chair before he answered the editor's\nquestion.\n\n\"Why--yes--I suppose if you put it on the ground of what men ought\nto do there is no other standard of conduct. But the question is,\nWhat is feasible? Is it possible to make it pay? To succeed in the\nnewspaper business we have got to conform to custom and the\nrecognized methods of society. We can't do as we would in an ideal\nworld.\"\n\n\"Do you mean that we can't run the paper strictly on Christian\nprinciples and make it succeed?\"\n\n\"Yes, that's just what I mean. It can't be done. We'll go bankrupt\nin thirty days.\"\n\nNorman did not reply at once. He was very thoughtful.\n\n\"We shall have occasion to talk this over again, Clark. Meanwhile I\nthink we ought to understand each other frankly. I have pledged\nmyself for a year to do everything connected with the paper after\nanswering the question, What would Jesus do?' as honestly as\npossible. I shall continue to do this in the belief that not only\ncan we succeed but that we can succeed better than we ever did.\"\n\nClark rose. \"The report does not go in?\"\n\n\"It does not. There is plenty of good material to take its place,\nand you know what it is.\"\n\nClark hesitated. \"Are you going to say anything about the absence of\nthe report?\"\n\n\"No, let the paper go to press as if there had been no such thing as\na prize fight yesterday.\"\n\nClark walked out of the room to his own desk feeling as if the\nbottom had dropped out of everything. He was astonished, bewildered,\nexcited and considerably angered. His great respect for Norman\nchecked his rising indignation and disgust, but with it all was a\nfeeling of growing wonder at the sudden change of motive which had\nentered the office of the DAILY NEWS and threatened, as he firmly\nbelieved, to destroy it.\n\nBefore noon every reporter, pressman and employee on the DAILY NEWS\nwas informed of the remarkable fact that the paper was going to\npress without a word in it about the famous prize fight of Sunday.\nThe reporters were simply astonished beyond measure at the\nannouncement of the fact. Every one in the stereotyping and\ncomposing rooms had something to say about the unheard of omission.\nTwo or three times during the day when Mr. Norman had occasion to\nvisit the composing rooms the men stopped their work or glanced\naround their cases looking at him curiously. He knew that he was\nbeing observed, but said nothing and did not appear to note it.\n\nThere had been several minor changes in the paper, suggested by the\neditor, but nothing marked. He was waiting and thinking deeply.\n\nHe felt as if he needed time and considerable opportunity for the\nexercise of his best judgment in several matters before he answered\nhis ever present question in the right way. It was not because there\nwere not a great many things in the life of the paper that were\ncontrary to the spirit of Christ that he did not act at once, but\nbecause he was yet honestly in doubt concerning what action Jesus\nwould take.\n\nWhen the DAILY NEWS came out that evening it carried to its\nsubscribers a distinct sensation.\n\nThe presence of the report of the prize fight could not have\nproduced anything equal to the effect of its omission. Hundreds of\nmen in the hotels and stores down town, as well as regular\nsubscribers, eagerly opened the paper and searched it through for\nthe account of the great fight; not finding it, they rushed to the\nNEWS stands and bought other papers. Even the newsboys had not a\nunderstood the fact of omission. One of them was calling out \"DAILY\nNEWS! Full 'count great prize fight 't Resort. NEWS, sir?\"\n\nA man on the corner of the avenue close by the NEWS office bought\nthe paper, looked over its front page hurriedly and then angrily\ncalled the boy back.\n\n\"Here, boy! What's the matter with your paper? There's no prize\nfight here! What do you mean by selling old papers?\"\n\n\"Old papers nuthin'!\" replied the boy indignantly. \"Dat's today's\npaper. What's de matter wid you?\"\n\n\"But there is no account of the prize fight here! Look!\"\n\nThe man handed back the paper and the boy glanced at k hurriedly.\nThen he whistled, while a bewildered look crept over his face.\nSeeing another boy running by with papers he called out \"Say, Sam,\nle'me see your pile.\" A hasty examination revealed the remarkable\nfact that all the copies of the NEWS were silent on the subject of\nthe prize fight.\n\n\"Here, give me another paper!\" shouted the customer; \"one with the\nprize fight account.\"\n\nHe received it and walked off, while the two boys remained comparing\nnotes and lost in wonder at the result. \"Sump'n slipped a cog in the\nNewsy, sure,\" said the first boy. But he couldn't tell why, and ran\nover to the NEWS office to find out.\n\nThere were several other boys at the delivery room and they were all\nexcited and disgusted. The amount of slangy remonstrance hurled at\nthe clerk back of the long counter would have driven any one else to\ndespair.\n\nHe was used to more or less of it all the time, and consequently\nhardened to it. Mr. Norman was just coming downstairs on his way\nhome, and he paused as he went by the door of the delivery room and\nlooked in.\n\n\"What's the matter here, George?\" he asked the clerk as he noted the\nunusual confusion.\n\n\"The boys say they can't sell any copies of the NEWS tonight because\nthe prize fight isn't in it,\" replied George, looking curiously at\nthe editor as so many of the employees had done during the day. Mr.\nNorman hesitated a moment, then walked into the room and confronted\nthe boys.\n\n\"How many papers are there here? Boys, count them out, and I'll buy\nthem tonight.\"\n\nThere was a combined stare and a wild counting of papers on the part\nof the boys.\n\n\"Give them their money, George, and if any of the other boys come in\nwith the same complaint buy their unsold copies. Is that fair?\" he\nasked the boys who were smitten into unusual silence by the unheard\nof action on the part of the editor.\n\n\"Fair! Well, I should--But will you keep this up? Will dis be a\ncontinual performance for the benefit of de fraternity?\"\n\nMr. Norman smiled slightly but he did not think it was necessary to\nanswer the question.\n\nHe walked out of the office and went home. On the way he could not\navoid that constant query, \"Would Jesus have done it?\" It was not so\nmuch with reference to this last transaction as to the entire motive\nthat had urged him on since he had made the promise.\n\nThe newsboys were necessarily sufferers through the action he had\ntaken. Why should they lose money by it? They were not to blame. He\nwas a rich man and could afford to put a little brightness into\ntheir lives if he chose to do it. He believed, as he went on his way\nhome, that Jesus would have done either what he did or something\nsimilar in order to be free from any possible feeling of injustice.\n\nHe was not deciding these questions for any one else but for his own\nconduct. He was not in a position to dogmatize, and he felt that he\ncould answer only with his own judgment and conscience as to his\ninterpretation of his Master's probable action. The falling off in\nsales of the paper he had in a measure foreseen. But he was yet to\nrealize the full extent of the loss to the paper, if such a policy\nshould be continued.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Four\n\n\nDURING the week he was in receipt of numerous letters commenting on\nthe absence from the News of the account of the prize fight. Two or\nthree of these letters may be of interest.\n\n\nEditor of the News:\n\nDear Sir--I have been thinking for some time of changing my paper. I\nwant a journal that is up to the times, progressive and\nenterprising, supplying the public demand at all points. The recent\nfreak of your paper in refusing to print the account of the famous\ncontest at the Resort has decided me finally to change my paper.\n\nPlease discontinue it.\n\nVery truly yours,-------\n\n\nHere followed the name of a business man who had been a subscriber\nfor many years.\n\n\nEdward Norman,\n\nEditor of the Daily News, Raymond:\n\nDear Ed.--What is this sensation you have given the people of your\nburg? What new policy have you taken up? Hope you don't intend to\ntry the \"Reform Business\" through the avenue of the press. It's\ndangerous to experiment much along that line. Take my advice and\nstick to the enterprising modern methods you have made so successful\nfor the News. The public wants prize fights and such. Give it what\nit wants, and let some one else do the reforming business.\n\nYours,-------\n\n\nHere followed the name of one of Norman's old friends, the editor of\na daily in an adjoining town.\n\n\nMy Dear Mr. Norman:\n\nI hasten to write you a note of appreciation for the evident\ncarrying out of your promise. It is a splendid beginning and no one\nfeels the value of it more than I do. I know something of what it\nwill cost you, but not all. Your pastor,\n\nHENRY MAXWELL.\n\n\nOne other letter which he opened immediately after reading this from\nMaxwell revealed to him something of the loss to his business that\npossibly awaited him.\n\n\nMr. Edward Norman,\n\nEditor of the Daily News:\n\nDear Sir--At the expiration of my advertising limit, you will do me\nthe favor not to continue it as you have done heretofore. I enclose\ncheck for payment in full and shall consider my account with your\npaper closed after date.\n\nVery truly yours,-------\n\n\nHere followed the name of one of the largest dealers in tobacco in\nthe city. He had been in the habit of inserting a column of\nconspicuous advertising and paying for it a very large price.\n\nNorman laid this letter down thoughtfully, and then after a moment\nhe took up a copy of his paper and looked through the advertising\ncolumns. There was no connection implied in the tobacco merchant's\nletter between the omission of the prize fight and the withdrawal of\nthe advertisement, but he could not avoid putting the two together.\nIn point of fact, he afterward learned that the tobacco dealer\nwithdrew his advertisement because he had heard that the editor of\nthe NEWS was about to enter upon some queer reform policy that would\nbe certain to reduce its subscription list.\n\nBut the letter directed Norman's attention to the advertising phase\nof his paper. He had not considered this before.\n\nAs he glanced over the columns he could not escape the conviction\nthat his Master could not permit some of them in his paper.\n\nWhat would He do with that other long advertisement of choice\nliquors and cigars? As a member of a church and a respected citizen,\nhe had incurred no special censure because the saloon men advertised\nin his columns. No one thought anything about it. It was all\nlegitimate business. Why not? Raymond enjoyed a system of high\nlicense, and the saloon and the billiard hall and the beer garden\nwere a part of the city's Christian civilization. He was simply\ndoing what every other business man in Raymond did. And it was one\nof the best paying sources of revenue. What would the paper do if it\ncut these out? Could it live? That was the question. But was that\nthe question after all? \"What would Jesus do?\" That was the question\nhe was answering, or trying to answer, this week. Would Jesus\nadvertise whiskey and tobacco in his paper?\n\nEdward Norman asked it honestly, and after a prayer for help and\nwisdom he asked Clark to come into the office.\n\nClark came in, feeling that the paper was at a crisis, and prepared\nfor almost anything after his Monday morning experience. This was\nThursday.\n\n\"Clark,\" said Norman, speaking slowly and carefully, \"I have been\nlooking at our advertising columns and have decided to dispense with\nsome of the matter as soon as the contracts run out. I wish you\nwould notify the advertising agent not to solicit or renew the ads\nthat I have marked here.\"\n\nHe handed the paper with the marked places over to Clark, who took\nit and looked over the columns with a very serious air.\n\n\"This will mean a great loss to the NEWS. How long do you think you\ncan keep this sort of thing up?\" Clark was astounded at the editor's\naction and could not understand it.\n\n\"Clark, do you think if Jesus was the editor and proprietor of a\ndaily paper in Raymond He would permit advertisements of whiskey and\ntobacco in it?\"\n\n\"Well no--I--don't suppose He would. But what has that to do with\nus? We can't do as He would. Newspapers can't be run on any such\nbasis.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" asked Norman quietly.\n\n\"Why not? Because they will lose more money than they make, that's\nall!\" Clark spoke out with an irritation that he really felt. \"We\nshall certainly bankrupt the paper with this sort of business\npolicy.\"\n\n\"Do you think so?\" Norman asked the question not as if he expected\nan answer, but simply as if he were talking with himself. After a\npause he said:\n\n\"You may direct Marks to do as I have said. I believe it is what\nChrist would do, and as I told you, Clark, that is what I have\npromised to try to do for a year, regardless of what the results may\nbe to me. I cannot believe that by any kind of reasoning we could\nreach a conclusion justifying our Lord in the advertisement, in this\nage, of whiskey and tobacco in a newspaper. There are some other\nadvertisements of a doubtful character I shall study into.\nMeanwhile, I feel a conviction in regard to these that cannot be\nsilenced.\"\n\nClark went back to his desk feeling as if he had been in the\npresence of a very peculiar person. He could not grasp the meaning\nof it all. He felt enraged and alarmed. He was sure any such policy\nwould ruin the paper as soon as it became generally known that the\neditor was trying to do everything by such an absurd moral standard.\nWhat would become of business if this standard was adopted? It would\nupset every custom and introduce endless confusion. It was simply\nfoolishness. It was downright idiocy. So Clark said to himself, and\nwhen Marks was informed of the action he seconded the managing\neditor with some very forcible ejaculations. What was the matter\nwith the chief? Was he insane? Was he going to bankrupt the whole\nbusiness?\n\nBut Edward Norman had not yet faced his most serious problem. When\nhe came down to the office Friday morning he was confronted with the\nusual program for the Sunday morning edition. The NEWS was one one\nof the few evening papers in Raymond to issue a Sunday edition, and\nit had always been remarkably successful financially. There was an\naverage of one page of literary and religious items to thirty or\nforty pages of sport, theatre, gossip, fashion, society and\npolitical material. This made a very interesting magazine of all\nsorts of reading matter, and had always been welcomed by all the\nsubscribers, church members and all, as a Sunday morning necessity.\nEdward Norman now faced this fact and put to himself the question:\n\"What would Jesus do?\" If He was editor of a paper, would he\ndeliberately plan to put into the homes of all the church people and\nChristians of Raymond such a collection of reading matter on the one\nday in the week which ought to be given up to something better\nholier? He was of course familiar with the regular arguments of the\nSunday paper, that the public needed something of the sort; and the\nworking man especially, who would not go to church any way, ought to\nhave something entertaining and instructive on Sunday, his only day\nof rest. But suppose the Sunday morning paper did not pay? Suppose\nthere was no money in it? How eager would the editor or publisher be\nthen to supply this crying need of the poor workman? Edward Norman\ncommuned honestly with himself over the subject.\n\nTaking everything into account, would Jesus probably edit a Sunday\nmorning paper? No matter whether it paid. That was not the question.\nAs a matter of fact, the Sunday NEWS paid so well that it would be a\ndirect loss of thousands of dollars to discontinue it. Besides, the\nregular subscribers had paid for a seven-day paper. Had he any right\nnow to give them less than they supposed they had paid for?\n\nHe was honestly perplexed by the question. So much was involved in\nthe discontinuance of the Sunday edition that for the first time he\nalmost decided to refuse to be guided by the standard of Jesus'\nprobable action. He was sole proprietor of the paper; it was his to\nshape as he chose. He had no board of directors to consult as to\npolicy. But as he sat there surrounded by the usual quantity of\nmaterial for the Sunday edition he reached some definite\nconclusions. And among them was a determination to call in the force\nof the paper and frankly state his motive and purpose. He sent word\nfor Clark and the other men it the office, including the few\nreporters who were in the building and the foreman, with what men\nwere in the composing room (it was early in the morning and they\nwere not all in) to come into the mailing room. This was a large\nroom, and the men came in curiously and perched around on the tables\nand counters. It was a very unusual proceeding, but they all agreed\nthat the paper was being run on new principles anyhow, and they all\nwatched Mr. Norman carefully as he spoke.\n\n\"I called you in here to let you know my further plans for the NEWS.\nI propose certain changes which I believe are necessary. I\nunderstand very well that some things I have already done are\nregarded by the men as very strange. I wish to state my motive in\ndoing what I have done.\"\n\nHere he told the men what he had already told Clark, and they stared\nas Clark had done, and looked as painfully conscious.\n\n\"Now, in acting on this standard of conduct I have reached a\nconclusion which will, no doubt, cause some surprise.\n\n\"I have decided that the Sunday morning edition of the NEWS shall be\ndiscontinued after next Sunday's issue. I shall state in that issue\nmy reasons for discontinuing. In order to make up to the subscribers\nthe amount of reading matter they may suppose themselves entitled\nto, we can issue a double number on Saturday, as is done by many\nevening papers that make no attempt at a Sunday edition. I am\nconvinced that from a Christian point of view more harm than good\nhas been done by our Sunday morning paper. I do not believe that\nJesus would be responsible for it if He were in my place today. It\nwill occasion some trouble to arrange the details caused by this\nchange with the advertisers and subscribers. That is for me to look\nafter. The change itself is one that will take place. So far as I\ncan see, the loss will fall on myself. Neither the reporters nor the\npressmen need make any particular changes in their plans.\"\n\nHe looked around the room and no one spoke. He was struck for the\nfirst time in his life with the fact that in all the years of his\nnewspaper life he had never had the force of the paper together in\nthis way. Would Jesus do that? That is, would He probably run a\nnewspaper on some loving family plan, where editors, reporters,\npressmen and all meet to discuss and devise and plan for the making\nof a paper that should have in view--\n\nHe caught himself drawing almost away from the facts of\ntypographical unions and office rules and reporters' enterprise and\nall the cold, businesslike methods that make a great daily\nsuccessful. But still the vague picture that came up in the mailing\nroom would not fade away when he had gone into his office and the\nmen had gone back to their places with wonder in their looks and\nquestions of all sorts on their tongues as they talked over the\neditor's remarkable actions.\n\nClark came in and had a long, serious talk with his chief. He was\nthoroughly roused, and his protest almost reached the point of\nresigning his place. Norman guarded himself carefully. Every minute\nof the interview was painful to him, but he felt more than ever the\nnecessity of doing the Christ-like thing. Clark was a very valuable\nman. It would be difficult to fill his place. But he was not able to\ngive any reasons for continuing the Sunday paper that answered the\nquestion, \"What would Jesus do?\" by letting Jesus print that\nedition.\n\n\"It comes to this, then,\" said Clark frankly, \"you will bankrupt the\npaper in thirty days. We might as well face that future fact.\"\n\n\"I don't think we shall. Will you stay by the NEWS until it is\nbankrupt?\" asked Norman with a strange smile.\n\n\"Mr. Norman, I don't understand you. You are not the same man this\nweek that I always knew before.\"\n\n\"I don't know myself either, Clark. Something remarkable has caught\nme up and borne me on. But I was never more convinced of final\nsuccess and power for the paper. You have not answered my question.\nWill you stay with me?\"\n\nClark hesitated a moment and finally said yes. Norman shook hands with\nhim and turned to his desk. Clark went back into his room, stirred by\na number of conflicting emotions. He had never before known such an\nexciting and mentally disturbing week, and he felt now as if he was\nconnected with an enterprise that might at any moment collapse and ruin\nhim and all connected with it.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Five\n\n\nSUNDAY morning dawned again on Raymond, and Henry Maxwell's church\nwas again crowded. Before the service began Edward Norman attracted\ngreat attention. He sat quietly in his usual place about three seats\nfrom the pulpit. The Sunday morning issue of the NEWS containing the\nstatement of its discontinuance had been expressed in such\nremarkable language that every reader was struck by it. No such\nseries of distinct sensations had ever disturbed the usual business\ncustom of Raymond. The events connected with the NEWS were not all.\nPeople were eagerly talking about strange things done during the\nweek by Alexander Powers at the railroad shops, and Milton Wright in\nhis stores on the avenue. The service progressed upon a distinct\nwave of excitement in the pews. Henry Maxwell faced it all with a\ncalmness which indicated a strength and purpose more than usual. His\nprayers were very helpful. His sermon was not so easy to describe.\nHow would a minister be apt to preach to his people if he came\nbefore them after an entire week of eager asking, \"How would Jesus\npreach? What would He probably say?\" It is very certain that he did\nnot preach as he had done two Sundays before. Tuesday of the past\nweek he had stood by the grave of the dead stranger and said the\nwords, \"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,\" and still he\nwas moved by the spirit of a deeper impulse than he could measure as\nhe thought of his people and yearned for the Christ message when he\nshould be in his pulpit again.\n\nNow that Sunday had come and the people were there to hear, what\nwould the Master tell them? He agonized over his preparation for\nthem, and yet he knew he had not been able to fit his message into\nhis ideal of the Christ. Nevertheless no one in the First Church\ncould remember ever hearing such a sermon before. There was in it\nrebuke for sin, especially hypocrisy, there was definite rebuke of\nthe greed of wealth and the selfishness of fashion, two things that\nFirst Church never heard rebuked this way before, and there was a\nlove of his people that gathered new force as the sermon went on.\nWhen it was finished there were those who were saying in their\nhearts, \"The Spirit moved that sermon.\" And they were right.\n\nThen Rachel Winslow rose to sing, this time after the sermon, by Mr.\nMaxwell's request. Rachel's singing did not provoke applause this\ntime. What deeper feeling carried the people's hearts into a\nreverent silence and tenderness of thought? Rachel was beautiful.\nBut her consciousness of her remarkable loveliness had always marred\nher singing with those who had the deepest spiritual feeling. It had\nalso marred her rendering of certain kinds of music with herself.\nToday this was all gone. There was no lack of power in her grand\nvoice. But there was an actual added element of humility and purity\nwhich the audience distinctly felt and bowed to.\n\nBefore service closed Mr. Maxwell asked those who had remained the\nweek before to stay again for a few moments of consultation, and any\nothers who were willing to make the pledge taken at that time. When\nhe was at liberty he went into the lecture-room. To his astonishment\nit was almost filled. This time a large proportion of young people\nhad come, but among them were a few business men and officers of the\nchurch.\n\nAs before, he, Maxwell, asked them to pray with him. And, as before,\na distinct answer came from the presence of the divine Spirit. There\nwas no doubt in the minds of any present that what they purposed to\ndo was so clearly in line with the divine will, that a blessing\nrested upon it in a very special manner.\n\nThey remained some time to ask questions and consult together. There\nwas a feeling of fellowship such as they had never known in their\nchurch membership. Mr. Norman's action was well understood by them\nall, and he answered several questions.\n\n\"What will be the probable result of your discontinuance of the\nSunday paper?\" asked Alexander Powers, who sat next to him.\n\n\"I don't know yet. I presume it will result in the falling off of\nsubscriptions and advertisements. I anticipate that.\"\n\n\"Do you have any doubts about your action. I mean, do you regret it,\nor fear it is not what Jesus would do?\" asked Mr. Maxwell.\n\n\"Not in the least. But I would like to ask, for my own satisfaction,\nif any of you here think Jesus would issue a Sunday morning paper?\"\n\nNo one spoke for a minute. Then Jasper Chase said, \"We seem to think\nalike on that, but I have been puzzled several times during the week\nto know just what He would do. It is not always an easy question to\nanswer.\"\n\n\"I find that trouble,\" said Virginia Page. She sat by Rachel\nWinslow. Every one who knew Virginia Page was wondering how she\nwould succeed in keeping her promise. \"I think perhaps I find it\nspecially difficult to answer that question on account of my money.\nOur Lord never owned any property, and there is nothing in His\nexample to guide me in the use of mine. I am studying and praying. I\nthink I see clearly a part of what He would do, but not all. What\nwould He do with a million dollars? is my question really. I confess\nI am not yet able to answer it to my satisfaction.\n\n\"I could tell you what you could do with a part of it,\" said Rachel,\nturning her face toward Virginia. \"That does not trouble me,\"\nreplied Virginia with a slight smile. \"What I am trying to discover\nis a principle that will enable me to come to the nearest possible\nto His action as it ought to influence the entire course of my life\nso far as my wealth and its use are concerned.\"\n\n\"That will take time,\" said the minister slowly. All the rest of the\nroom were thinking hard of the same thing. Milton Wright told\nsomething of his experience. He was gradually working out a plan for\nhis business relations with his employees, and it was opening up a\nnew world to him and to them. A few of the young men told of special\nattempts to answer the question. There was almost general consent\nover the fact that the application of the Christ spirit and practice\nto the everyday life was the serious thing. It required a knowledge\nof Him and an insight into His motives that most of them did not yet\npossess.\n\nWhen they finally adjourned after a silent prayer that marked with\ngrowing power the Divine Presence, they went away discussing\nearnestly their difficulties and seeking light from one another.\n\nRachel Winslow and Virginia Page went out together. Edward Norman\nand Milton Wright became so interested in their mutual conference\nthat they walked on past Norman's house and came back together.\nJasper Chase and the president of the Endeavor Society stood talking\nearnestly in one corner of the room. Alexander Powers and Henry\nMaxwell remained, even after the others had gone.\n\n\"I want you to come down to the shops tomorrow and see my plan and\ntalk to the men. Somehow I feel as if you could get nearer to them\nthan any one else just now.\"\n\n\"I don't know about that, but I will come,\" replied Mr. Maxwell a\nlittle sadly. How was he fitted to stand before two or three hundred\nworking men and give them a message? Yet in the moment of his\nweakness, as he asked the question, he rebuked himself for it. What\nwould Jesus do? That was an end to the discussion.\n\nHe went down the next day and found Mr. Powers in his office. It\nlacked a few minutes of twelve and the superintendent said, \"Come\nupstairs, and I'll show you what I've been trying to do.\"\n\nThey went through the machine shop, climbed a long flight of stairs\nand entered a very large, empty room. It had once been used by the\ncompany for a store room.\n\n\"Since making that promise a week ago I have had a good many things\nto think of,\" said the superintendent, \"and among them is this: The\ncompany gives me the use of this room, and I am going to fit it up\nwith tables and a coffee plant in the corner there where those steam\npipes are. My plan is to provide a good place where the men can come\nup and eat their noon lunch, and give them, two or three times a\nweek, the privilege of a fifteen minutes' talk on some subject that\nwill be a real help to them in their lives.\"\n\nMaxwell looked surprised and asked if the men would come for any\nsuch purpose.\n\n\"Yes, they'll come. After all, I know the men pretty well. They are\namong the most intelligent working men in the country today. But\nthey are, as a whole, entirely removed from church influence. I\nasked, 'What would Jesus do?' and among other things it seemed to me\nHe would begin to act in some way to add to the lives of these men\nmore physical and spiritual comfort. It is a very little thing, this\nroom and what it represents, but I acted on the first impulse, to do\nthe first thing that appealed to my good sense, and I want to work\nout this idea. I want you to speak to the men when they come up at\nnoon. I have asked them to come up and see the place and I'll tell\nthem something about it.\"\n\nMaxwell was ashamed to say how uneasy he felt at being asked to\nspeak a few words to a company of working men. How could he speak\nwithout notes, or to such a crowd? He was honestly in a condition of\ngenuine fright over the prospect. He actually felt afraid of facing\nthose men. He shrank from the ordeal of confronting such a crowd, so\ndifferent from the Sunday audiences he was familiar with.\n\nThere were a dozen rude benches and tables in the room, and when the\nnoon whistle sounded the men poured upstairs from the machine shops\nbelow and, seating themselves at the tables, began to eat their\nlunch. There were present about three hundred of them. They had read\nthe superintendent's notice which he had posted up in various\nplaces, and came largely out of curiosity.\n\nThey were favorably impressed. The room was large and airy, free\nfrom smoke and dust, and well warmed from the steam pipes. At about\ntwenty minutes to one Mr. Powers told the men what he had in mind.\nHe spoke very simply, like one who understands thoroughly the\ncharacter of his audience, and then introduced the Rev. Henry\nMaxwell of the First Church, his pastor, who had consented to speak\na few minutes.\n\nMaxwell will never forget the feeling with which for the first time\nhe stood before the grimy-faced audience of working men. Like\nhundreds of other ministers, he had never spoken to any gatherings\nexcept those made up of people of his own class in the sense that\nthey were familiar in their dress and education and habits. This was\na new world to him, and nothing but his new rule of conduct could\nhave made possible his message and its effect. He spoke on the\nsubject of satisfaction with life; what caused it, what its real\nsources were. He had the great good sense on this his first\nappearance not to recognize the men as a class distinct from\nhimself. He did not use the term working man, and did not say a word\nto suggest any difference between their lives and his own.\n\nThe men were pleased. A good many of them shook hands with him\nbefore going down to their work, and the minister telling it all to\nhis wife when he reached home, said that never in all his life had\nhe known the delight he then felt in having the handshake from a man\nof physical labor. The day marked an important one in his Christian\nexperience, more important than he knew. It was the beginning of a\nfellowship between him and the working world. It was the first plank\nlaid down to help bridge the chasm between the church and labor in\nRaymond.\n\nAlexander Powers went back to his desk that afternoon much pleased\nwith his plan and seeing much help in it for the men. He knew where\nhe could get some good tables from an abandoned eating house at one\nof the stations down the road, and he saw how the coffee arrangement\ncould be made a very attractive feature. The men had responded even\nbetter than he anticipated, and the whole thing could not help being\na great benefit to them.\n\nHe took up the routine of his work with a glow of satisfaction.\nAfter all, he wanted to do as Jesus would, he said to himself.\n\nIt was nearly four o'clock when he opened one of the company's long\nenvelopes which he supposed contained orders for the purchasing of\nstores. He ran over the first page of typewritten matter in his\nusual quick, business-like manner, before he saw that what he was\nreading was not intended for his office but for the superintendent\nof the freight department.\n\nHe turned over a page mechanically, not meaning to read what was not\naddressed to him, but before he knew it, he was in possession of\nevidence which conclusively proved that the company was engaged in a\nsystematic violation of the Interstate Commerce Laws of the United\nStates. It was as distinct and unequivocal a breaking of law as if a\nprivate citizen should enter a house and rob the inmates. The\ndiscrimination shown in rebates was in total contempt of all the\nstatutes. Under the laws of the state it was also a distinct\nviolation of certain provisions recently passed by the legislature\nto prevent railroad trusts. There was no question that he had in his\nhands evidence sufficient to convict the company of willful,\nintelligent violation of the law of the commission and the law of\nthe state also.\n\nHe dropped the papers on his desk as if they were poison, and\ninstantly the question flashed across his mind, \"What would Jesus\ndo?\" He tried to shut the question out. He tried to reason with\nhimself by saying it was none of his business. He had known in a\nmore or less definite way, as did nearly all the officers of the\ncompany, that this had been going on right along on nearly all the\nroads. He was not in a position, owing to his place in the shops, to\nprove anything direct, and he had regarded it as a matter which did\nnot concern him at all. The papers now before him revealed the\nentire affair. They had through some carelessness been addressed to\nhim. What business of his was it? If he saw a man entering his\nneighbor's house to steal, would it not be his duty to inform the\nofficers of the law? Was a railroad company such a different thing?\nWas it under a different rule of conduct, so that it could rob the\npublic and defy law and be undisturbed because it was such a great\norganization? What would Jesus do? Then there was his family. Of\ncourse, if he took any steps to inform the commission it would mean\nthe loss of his position. His wife and daughter had always enjoyed\nluxury and a good place in society. If he came out against this\nlawlessness as a witness it would drag him into courts, his motives\nwould be misunderstood, and the whole thing would end in his\ndisgrace and the loss of his position. Surely it was none of his\nbusiness. He could easily get the papers back to the freight\ndepartment and no one be the wiser. Let the iniquity go on. Let the\nlaw be defied. What was it to him? He would work out his plans for\nbettering the condition just before him. What more could a man do in\nthis railroad business when there was so much going on anyway that\nmade it impossible to live by the Christian standard? But what would\nJesus do if He knew the facts? That was the question that confronted\nAlexander Powers as the day wore into evening.\n\nThe lights in the office had been turned on. The whirr of the great\nengine and the clash of the planers in the big shop continued until\nsix o'clock. Then the whistle blew, the engine slowed up, the men\ndropped their tools and ran for the block house.\n\nPowers heard the familiar click, click, of the clocks as the men\nfiled past the window of the block house just outside. He said to\nhis clerks, \"I'm not going just yet. I have something extra\ntonight.\" He waited until he heard the last man deposit his block.\nThe men behind the block case went out. The engineer and his\nassistants had work for half an hour but they went out by another\ndoor.\n\nAt seven o'clock any one who had looked into the superintendent's\noffice would have seen an unusual sight. He was kneeling, and his face\nwas buried in his hands as he bowed his head upon the papers on his\ndesk.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Six\n\n\n\"If any man cometh unto me and hateth not his own father and mother\nand wife and children and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own\nlife also, he cannot be my disciple.\"\n\n\"And whosoever forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my\ndisciple.\"\n\n\nWHEN Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page separated after the meeting at\nthe First Church on Sunday they agreed to continue their\nconversation the next day. Virginia asked Rachel to come and lunch\nwith her at noon, and Rachel accordingly rang the bell at the Page\nmansion about half-past eleven. Virginia herself met her and the two\nwere soon talking earnestly.\n\n\"The fact is,\" Rachel was saying, after they had been talking a few\nmoments, \"I cannot reconcile it with my judgment of what Christ\nwould do. I cannot tell another person what to do, but I feel that I\nought not to accept this offer.\"\n\n\"What will you do then?\" asked Virginia with great interest.\n\n\"I don't know yet, but I have decided to refuse this offer.\"\n\nRachel picked up a letter that had been lying in her lap and ran\nover its contents again. It was a letter from the manager of a comic\nopera offering her a place with a large traveling company of the\nseason. The salary was a very large figure, and the prospect held\nout by the manager was flattering. He had heard Rachel sing that\nSunday morning when the stranger had interrupted the service. He had\nbeen much impressed. There was money in that voice and it ought to\nbe used in comic opera, so said the letter, and the manager wanted a\nreply as soon as possible.\n\n\"There's no great virtue in saying 'No' to this offer when I have\nthe other one,\" Rachel went on thoughtfully. \"That's harder to\ndecide. But I've about made up my mind. To tell the truth,\nVirginia, I'm completely convinced in the first case that Jesus\nwould never use any talent like a good voice just to make money. But\nnow, take this concert offer. Here is a reputable company, to travel\nwith an impersonator and a violinist and a male quartet, all people\nof good reputation. I'm asked to go as one of the company and sing\nleading soprano. The salary--I mentioned it, didn't I?--is\nguaranteed to be $200 a month for the season. But I don't feel\nsatisfied that Jesus would go. What do you think?\"\n\n\"You mustn't ask me to decide for you,\" replied Virginia with a sad\nsmile. \"I believe Mr. Maxwell was right when he said we must each\none of us decide according to the judgment we feel for ourselves to\nbe Christ-like. I am having a harder time than you are, dear, to\ndecide what He would do.\"\n\n\"Are you?\" Rachel asked. She rose and walked over to the window and\nlooked out. Virginia came and stood by her. The street was crowded\nwith life and the two young women looked at it silently for a\nmoment. Suddenly Virginia broke out as Rachel had never heard her\nbefore:\n\n\"Rachel, what does all this contrast in conditions mean to you as\nyou ask this question of what Jesus would do? It maddens me to think\nthat the society in which I have been brought up, the same to which\nwe are both said to belong, is satisfied year after year to go on\ndressing and eating and having a good time, giving and receiving\nentertainments, spending its money on houses and luxuries and,\noccasionally, to ease its conscience, donating, without any personal\nsacrifice, a little money to charity. I have been educated, as you\nhave, in one of the most expensive schools in America; launched into\nsociety as an heiress; supposed to be in a very enviable position.\nI'm perfectly well; I can travel or stay at home. I can do as I\nplease. I can gratify almost any want or desire; and yet when I\nhonestly try to imagine Jesus living the life I have lived and am\nexpected to live, and doing for the rest of my life what thousands\nof other rich people do, I am under condemnation for being one of\nthe most wicked, selfish, useless creatures in all the world. I have\nnot looked out of this window for weeks without a feeling of horror\ntoward myself as I see the humanity that passes by this house.\"\n\nVirginia turned away and walked up and down the room. Rachel watched\nher and could not repress the rising tide of her own growing\ndefinition of discipleship. Of what Christian use was her own talent\nof song? Was the best she could do to sell her talent for so much a\nmonth, go on a concert company's tour, dress beautifully, enjoy the\nexcitement of public applause and gain a reputation as a great\nsinger? Was that what Jesus would do?\n\nShe was not morbid. She was in sound health, was conscious of her\ngreat powers as a singer, and knew that if she went out into public\nlife she could make a great deal of money and become well known. It\nis doubtful if she overestimated her ability to accomplish all she\nthought herself capable of. And Virginia--what she had just said\nsmote Rachel with great force because of the similar position in\nwhich the two friends found themselves.\n\nLunch was announced and they went out and were joined by Virginia's\ngrandmother, Madam Page, a handsome, stately woman of sixty-five,\nand Virginia's brother Rollin, a young man who spent most of his\ntime at one of the clubs and had no ambition for anything but a\ngrowing admiration for Rachel Winslow, and whenever she dined or\nlunched at the Page's, if he knew of it he always planned to be at\nhome.\n\nThese three made up the Page family. Virginia's father had been a\nbanker and grain speculator. Her mother had died ten years before,\nher father within the past year. The grandmother, a Southern woman\nin birth and training, had all the traditions and feelings that\naccompany the possession of wealth and social standing that have\nnever been disturbed. She was a shrewd, careful business woman of\nmore than average ability. The family property and wealth were\ninvested, in large measure, under her personal care. Virginia's\nportion was, without any restriction, her own. She had been trained\nby her father to understand the ways of the business world, and even\nthe grandmother had been compelled to acknowledge the girl's\ncapacity for taking care of her own money.\n\nPerhaps two persons could not be found anywhere less capable of\nunderstanding a girl like Virginia than Madam Page and Rollin.\nRachel, who had known the family since she was a girl playmate of\nVirginia's, could not help thinking of what confronted Virginia in\nher own home when she once decided on the course which she honestly\nbelieved Jesus would take. Today at lunch, as she recalled\nVirginia's outbreak in the front room, she tried to picture the\nscene that would at some time occur between Madam Page and her\ngranddaughter.\n\n\"I understand that you are going on the stage, Miss Winslow. We\nshall all be delighted, I'm sure,\" said Rollin during the\nconversation, which had not been very animated.\n\nRachel colored and felt annoyed. \"Who told you?\" she asked, while\nVirginia, who had been very silent and reserved, suddenly roused\nherself and appeared ready to join in the talk.\n\n\"Oh! we hear a thing or two on the street. Besides, every one saw\nCrandall the manager at church two weeks ago. He doesn't go to\nchurch to hear the preaching. In fact, I know other people who don't\neither, not when there's something better to hear.\"\n\nRachel did not color this time, but she answered quietly, \"You're\nmistaken. I'm not going on the stage.\"\n\n\"It's a great pity. You'd make a hit. Everybody is talking about\nyour singing.\"\n\nThis time Rachel flushed with genuine anger. Before she could say\nanything, Virginia broke in: \"Whom do you mean by 'everybody?'\"\n\n\"Whom? I mean all the people who hear Miss Winslow on Sundays. What\nother time do they hear her? It's a great pity, I say, that the\ngeneral public outside of Raymond cannot hear her voice.\"\n\n\"Let us talk about something else,\" said Rachel a little sharply.\nMadam Page glanced at her and spoke with a gentle courtesy.\n\n\"My dear, Rollin never could pay an indirect compliment. He is like\nhis father in that. But we are all curious to know something of your\nplans. We claim the right from old acquaintance, you know; and\nVirginia has already told us of your concert company offer.\"\n\n\"I supposed of course that was public property,\" said Virginia,\nsmiling across the table. \"I was in the NEWS office day before\nyesterday.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" replied Rachel hastily. \"I understand that, Madam Page.\nWell, Virginia and I have been talking about it. I have decided not\nto accept, and that is as far as I have gone at present.\"\n\nRachel was conscious of the fact that the conversation had, up to\nthis point, been narrowing her hesitation concerning the concert\ncompany's offer down to a decision that would absolutely satisfy her\nown judgment of Jesus' probable action. It had been the last thing\nin the world, however, that she had desired, to have her decision\nmade in any way so public as this. Somehow what Rollin Page had said\nand his manner in saying it had hastened her decision in the matter.\n\n\"Would you mind telling us, Rachel, your reasons for refusing the\noffer? It looks like a great opportunity for a young girl like you.\nDon't you think the general public ought to hear you? I feel like\nRollin about that. A voice like yours belongs to a larger audience\nthan Raymond and the First Church.\"\n\nRachel Winslow was naturally a girl of great reserve. She shrank\nfrom making her plans or her thoughts public. But with all her\nrepression there was possible in her an occasional sudden breaking\nout that was simply an impulsive, thoroughly frank, truthful\nexpression of her most inner personal feeling. She spoke now in\nreply to Madam Page in one of those rare moments of unreserve that\nadded to the attractiveness of her whole character.\n\n\"I have no other reason than a conviction that Jesus Christ would do\nthe same thing,\" she said, looking into Madam Page's eyes with a\nclear, earnest gaze.\n\nMadam Page turned red and Rollin stared. Before her grandmother\ncould say anything, Virginia spoke. Her rising color showed how she\nwas stirred. Virginia's pale, clear complexion was that of health,\nbut it was generally in marked contrast with Rachel's tropical type\nof beauty.\n\n\"Grandmother, you know we promised to make that the standard of our\nconduct for a year. Mr. Maxwell's proposition was plain to all who\nheard it. We have not been able to arrive at our decisions very\nrapidly. The difficulty in knowing what Jesus would do has perplexed\nRachel and me a good deal.\"\n\nMadam Page looked sharply at Virginia before she said anything.\n\n\"Of course I understand Mr. Maxwell's statement. It is perfectly\nimpracticable to put it into practice. I felt confident at the time\nthat those who promised would find it out after a trial and abandon\nit as visionary and absurd. I have nothing to say about Miss\nWinslow's affairs, but,\" she paused and continued with a sharpness\nthat was new to Rachel, \"I hope you have no foolish notions in this\nmatter, Virginia.\"\n\n\"I have a great many notions,\" replied Virginia quietly. \"Whether\nthey are foolish or not depends upon my right understanding of what\nHe would do. As soon as I find out I shall do it.\"\n\n\"Excuse me, ladies,\" said Rollin, rising from the table. \"The\nconversation is getting beyond my depth. I shall retire to the\nlibrary for a cigar.\"\n\nHe went out of the dining-room and there was silence for a moment.\nMadam Page waited until the servant had brought in something and\nthen asked her to go out. She was angry and her anger was\nformidable, although checked in some measure by the presence of\nRachel.\n\n\"I am older by several years than you, young ladies,\" she said, and\nher traditional type of bearing seemed to Rachel to rise up like a\ngreat frozen wall between her and every conception of Jesus as a\nsacrifice. \"What you have promised, in a spirit of false emotion I\npresume, is impossible of performance.\"\n\n\"Do you mean, grandmother, that we cannot possibly act as our Lord\nwould? or do you mean that, if we try to, we shall offend the\ncustoms and prejudices of society?\" asked Virginia.\n\n\"It is not required! It is not necessary! Besides how can you act\nwith any--\" Madam Page paused, broke off her sentence, and then\nturned to Rachel. \"What will your mother say to your decision? My\ndear, is it not foolish? What do you expect to do with your voice\nanyway?\"\n\n\"I don't know what mother will say yet,\" Rachel answered, with a\ngreat shrinking from trying to give her mother's probable answer. If\nthere was a woman in all Raymond with great ambitions for her\ndaughter's success as a singer, Mrs. Winslow was that woman.\n\n\"Oh! you will see it in a different light after wiser thought of it.\nMy dear,\" continued Madam Page rising from the table, \"you will live\nto regret it if you do not accept the concert company's offer or\nsomething like it.\"\n\nRachel said something that contained a hint of the struggle she was\nstill having. And after a little she went away, feeling that her\ndeparture was to be followed by a very painful conversation between\nVirginia and her grandmother. As she afterward learned, Virginia passed\nthrough a crisis of feeling during that scene with her grandmother that\nhastened her final decision as to the use of her money and her social\nposition.\n\n\n\nChapter Seven\n\n\nRACHEL was glad to escape and be by herself. A plan was slowly\nforming in her mind, and she wanted to be alone and think it out\ncarefully. But before she had walked two blocks she was annoyed to\nfind Rollin Page walking beside her.\n\n\"Sorry to disturb your thoughts, Miss Winslow, but I happened to be\ngoing your way and had an idea you might not object. In fact, I've\nbeen walking here for a whole block and you haven't objected.\"\n\n\"I did not see you,\" said Rachel briefly.\n\n\"I wouldn't mind that if you only thought of me once in a while,\"\nsaid Rollin suddenly. He took one last nervous puff on his cigar,\ntossed it into the street and walked along with a pale look on his\nface.\n\nRachel was surprised, but not startled. She had known Rollin as a\nboy, and there had been a time when they had used each other's first\nname familiarly. Lately, however, something in Rachel's manner had\nput an end to that. She was used to his direct attempts at\ncompliments and was sometimes amused by them. Today she honestly\nwished him anywhere else.\n\n\"Do you ever think of me, Miss Winslow?\" asked Rollin after a pause.\n\n\"Oh, yes, quite often!\" said Rachel with a smile.\n\n\"Are you thinking of me now?\"\n\n\"Yes. That is--yes--I am.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Do you want me to be absolutely truthful?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Then I was thinking that I wished you were not here.\" Rollin bit\nhis lip and looked gloomy.\n\n\"Now look here, Rachel--oh, I know that's forbidden, but I've got to\nspeak some time!--you know how I feel. What makes you treat me so?\nYou used to like me a little, you know.\"\n\n\"Did I? Of course we used to get on very well as boy and girl. But\nwe are older now.\"\n\nRachel still spoke in the light, easy way she had used since her\nfirst annoyance at seeing him. She was still somewhat preoccupied\nwith her plan which had been disturbed by Rollin's sudden\nappearance.\n\nThey walked along in silence a little way. The avenue was full of\npeople. Among the persons passing was Jasper Chase. He saw Rachel\nand Rollin and bowed as they went by. Rollin was watching Rachel\nclosely.\n\n\"I wish I was Jasper Chase. Maybe I would stand some chance then,\"\nhe said moodily.\n\nRachel colored in spite of herself. She did not say anything and\nquickened her pace a little. Rollin seemed determined to say\nsomething, and Rachel seemed helpless to prevent him. After all, she\nthought, he might as well know the truth one time as another.\n\n\"You know well enough, Rachel, how I feel toward you. Isn't there\nany hope? I could make you happy. I've loved you a good many\nyears--\"\n\n\"Why, how old do you think I am?\" broke in Rachel with a nervous\nlaugh. She was shaken out of her usual poise of manner.\n\n\"You know what I mean,\" went on Rollin doggedly. \"And you have no\nright to laugh at me just because I want you to marry me.\"\n\n\"I'm not! But it is useless for you to speak, Rollin,\" said Rachel\nafter a little hesitation, and then using his name in such a frank,\nsimple way that he could attach no meaning to it beyond the\nfamiliarity of the old family acquaintance. \"It is impossible.\" She\nwas still a little agitated by the fact of receiving a proposal of\nmarriage on the avenue. But the noise on the street and sidewalk\nmade the conversation as private as if they were in the house.\n\n\"Would that is--do you think--if you gave me time I would.\"\n\n\"No!\" said Rachel. She spoke firmly; perhaps, she thought afterward,\nalthough she did not mean to, she spoke harshly.\n\nThey walked on for some time without a word. They were nearing\nRachel's home and she was anxious to end the scene.\n\nAs they turned off the avenue into one of the quieter streets Rollin\nspoke suddenly and with more manliness than he had yet shown. There\nwas a distinct note of dignity in his voice that was new to Rachel.\n\n\"Miss Winslow, I ask you to be my wife. Is there any hope for me\nthat you will ever consent?\"\n\n\"None in the least.\" Rachel spoke decidedly.\n\n\"Will you tell me why?\" He asked the question as if he had a right\nto a truthful answer.\n\n\"Because I do not feel toward you as a woman ought to feel toward\nthe man she marries.\"\n\n\"In other words, you do not love me?\"\n\n\"I do not and I cannot.\"\n\n\"Why?\" That was another question, and Rachel was a little surprised\nthat he should ask it.\n\n\"Because--\" she hesitated for fear she might say too much in an\nattempt to speak the exact truth.\n\n\"Tell me just why. You can't hurt me more than you have already.\"\n\n\"Well, I do not and I cannot love you because you have no purpose in\nlife. What do you ever do to make the world better? You spend your\ntime in club life, in amusements, in travel, in luxury. What is\nthere in such a life to attract a woman?\"\n\n\"Not much, I guess,\" said Rollin with a bitter laugh. \"Still, I\ndon't know that I'm any worse than the rest of the men around me.\nI'm not so bad as some. I'm glad to know your reasons.\"\n\nHe suddenly stopped, took off his hat, bowed gravely and turned\nback. Rachel went on home and hurried into her room, disturbed in\nmany ways by the event which had so unexpectedly thrust itself into\nher experience.\n\nWhen she had time to think it all over she found herself condemned\nby the very judgment she had passed on Rollin Page. What purpose had\nshe in life? She had been abroad and studied music with one of the\nfamous teachers of Europe. She had come home to Raymond and had been\nsinging in the First Church choir now for a year. She was well paid.\nUp to that Sunday two weeks ago she had been quite satisfied with\nherself and with her position. She had shared her mother's ambition,\nand anticipated growing triumphs in the musical world. What possible\ncareer was before her except the regular career of every singer?\n\nShe asked the question again and, in the light of her recent reply\nto Rollin, asked again, if she had any very great purpose in life\nherself. What would Jesus do? There was a fortune in her voice. She\nknew it, not necessarily as a matter of personal pride or\nprofessional egotism, but simply as a fact. And she was obliged to\nacknowledge that until two weeks ago she had purposed to use her\nvoice to make money and win admiration and applause. Was that a much\nhigher purpose, after all, than Rollin Page lived for?\n\nShe sat in her room a long time and finally went downstairs,\nresolved to have a frank talk with her mother about the concert\ncompany's offer and the new plan which was gradually shaping in her\nmind. She had already had one talk with her mother and knew that she\nexpected Rachel to accept the offer and enter on a successful career\nas a public singer.\n\n\"Mother,\" Rachel said, coming at once to the point, much as she\ndreaded the interview, \"I have decided not to go out with the\ncompany. I have a good reason for it.\"\n\nMrs. Winslow was a large, handsome woman, fond of much company,\nambitious for distinction in society and devoted, according to her\ndefinitions of success, to the success of her children. Her youngest\nboy, Louis, two years younger than Rachel, was ready to graduate\nfrom a military academy in the summer. Meanwhile she and Rachel were\nat home together. Rachel's father, like Virginia's, had died while\nthe family was abroad. Like Virginia she found herself, under her\npresent rule of conduct, in complete antagonism with her own\nimmediate home circle. Mrs. Winslow waited for Rachel to go on.\n\n\"You know the promise I made two weeks ago, mother?\"\n\n\"Mr. Maxwell's promise?\"\n\n\"No, mine. You know what it was, do you not, mother?\"\n\n\"I suppose I do. Of course all the church members mean to imitate\nChrist and follow Him, as far as is consistent with our present day\nsurroundings. But what has that to do with your decision in the\nconcert company matter?\"\n\n\"It has everything to do with it. After asking, 'What would Jesus\ndo?' and going to the source of authority for wisdom, I have been\nobliged to say that I do not believe He would, in my case, make that\nuse of my voice.\"\n\n\"Why? Is there anything wrong about such a career?\"\n\n\"No, I don't know that I can say there is.\"\n\n\"Do you presume to sit in judgment on other people who go out to\nsing in this way? Do you presume to say they are doing what Christ\nwould not do?\"\n\n\"Mother, I wish you to understand me. I judge no one else; I condemn\nno other professional singer. I simply decide my own course. As I\nlook at it, I have a conviction that Jesus would do something else.\"\n\n\"What else?\" Mrs. Winslow had not yet lost her temper. She did not\nunderstand the situation nor Rachel in the midst of it, but she was\nanxious that her daughter's course should be as distinguished as her\nnatural gifts promised. And she felt confident that when the present\nunusual religious excitement in the First Church had passed away\nRachel would go on with her public life according to the wishes of\nthe family. She was totally unprepared for Rachel's next remark.\n\n\"What? Something that will serve mankind where it most needs the\nservice of song. Mother, I have made up my mind to use my voice in\nsome way so as to satisfy my own soul that I am doing something\nbetter than pleasing fashionable audiences, or making money, or even\ngratifying my own love of singing. I am going to do something that\nwill satisfy me when I ask: 'What would Jesus do?' I am not\nsatisfied, and cannot be, when I think of myself as singing myself\ninto the career of a concert company performer.\"\n\nRachel spoke with a vigor and earnestness that surprised her mother.\nBut Mrs. Winslow was angry now; and she never tried to conceal her\nfeelings.\n\n\"It is simply absurd! Rachel, you are a fanatic! What can you do?\"\n\n\"The world has been served by men and women who have given it other\nthings that were gifts. Why should I, because I am blessed with a\nnatural gift, at once proceed to put a market price on it and make\nall the money I can out of it? You know, mother, that you have\ntaught me to think of a musical career always in the light of\nfinancial and social success. I have been unable, since I made my\npromise two weeks ago, to imagine Jesus joining a concert company to\ndo what I should do and live the life I should have to live if I\njoined it.\"\n\nMrs. Winslow rose and then sat down again. With a great effort she\ncomposed herself.\n\n\"What do you intend to do then? You have not answered my question.\"\n\n\"I shall continue to sing for the time being in the church. I am\npledged to sing there through the spring. During the week I am going\nto sing at the White Cross meetings, down in the Rectangle.\"\n\n\"What! Rachel Winslow! Do you know what you are saying? Do you know\nwhat sort of people those are down there?\"\n\nRachel almost quailed before her mother. For a moment she shrank\nback and was silent. Then she spoke firmly: \"I know very well. That\nis the reason I am going. Mr. and Mrs. Gray have been working there\nseveral weeks. I learned only this morning that they want singers\nfrom the churches to help them in their meetings. They use a tent.\nIt is in a part of the city where Christian work is most needed. I\nshall offer them my help. Mother!\" Rachel cried out with the first\npassionate utterance she had yet used, \"I want to do something that\nwill cost me something in the way of sacrifice. I know you will not\nunderstand me. But I am hungry to suffer for something. What have we\ndone all our lives for the suffering, sinning side of Raymond? How\nmuch have we denied ourselves or given of our personal ease and\npleasure to bless the place in which we live or imitate the life of\nthe Savior of the world? Are we always to go on doing as society\nselfishly dictates, moving on its little narrow round of pleasures\nand entertainments, and never knowing the pain of things that cost?\"\n\n\"Are you preaching at me?\" asked Mrs. Winslow slowly. Rachel rose,\nand understood her mother's words.\n\n\"No. I am preaching at myself,\" she replied gently. She paused a\nmoment as if she thought her mother would say something more, and\nthen went out of the room. When she reached her own room she felt\nthat so far as her own mother was concerned she could expect no\nsympathy, nor even a fair understanding from her.\n\nShe kneeled. It is safe to say that within the two weeks since Henry\nMaxwell's church had faced that shabby figure with the faded hat\nmore members of his parish had been driven to their knees in prayer\nthan during all the previous term of his pastorate.\n\nShe rose, and her face was wet with tears. She sat thoughtfully a\nlittle while and then wrote a note to Virginia Page. She sent it to\nher by a messenger and then went downstairs and told her mother that\nshe and Virginia were going down to the Rectangle that evening to\nsee Mr. and Mrs. Gray, the evangelists.\n\n\"Virginia's uncle, Dr. West, will go with us, if she goes. I have\nasked her to call him up by telephone and go with us. The Doctor is\na friend of the Grays, and attended some of their meetings last\nwinter.\"\n\nMrs. Winslow did not say anything. Her manner showed her complete\ndisapproval of Rachel's course, and Rachel felt her unspoken\nbitterness.\n\nAbout seven o'clock the Doctor and Virginia appeared, and together\nthe three started for the scene of the White Cross meetings.\n\nThe Rectangle was the most notorious district in Raymond. It was on\nthe territory close by the railroad shops and the packing houses.\nThe great slum and tenement district of Raymond congested its worst\nand most wretched elements about the Rectangle. This was a barren\nfield used in the summer by circus companies and wandering showmen.\nIt was shut in by rows of saloons, gambling hells and cheap, dirty\nboarding and lodging houses.\n\nThe First Church of Raymond had never touched the Rectangle problem.\nIt was too dirty, too coarse, too sinful, too awful for close\ncontact. Let us be honest. There had been an attempt to cleanse this\nsore spot by sending down an occasional committee of singers or\nSunday-school teachers or gospel visitors from various churches. But\nthe First Church of Raymond, as an institution, had never really\ndone anything to make the Rectangle any less a stronghold of the\ndevil as the years went by.\n\nInto this heart of the coarse part of the sin of Raymond the\ntraveling evangelist and his brave little wife had pitched a\ngood-sized tent and begun meetings. It was the spring of the year\nand the evenings were beginning to be pleasant. The evangelists had\nasked for the help of Christian people, and had received more than\nthe usual amount of encouragement. But they felt a great need of\nmore and better music. During the meetings on the Sunday just gone\nthe assistant at the organ had been taken ill. The volunteers from\nthe city were few and the voices were of ordinary quality.\n\n\"There will be a small meeting tonight, John,\" said his wife, as\nthey entered the tent a little after seven o'clock and began to\narrange the chairs and light up.\n\n\"Yes, I fear so.\" Mr. Gray was a small, energetic man, with a\npleasant voice and the courage of a high-born fighter. He had\nalready made friends in the neighborhood and one of his converts, a\nheavy-faced man who had just come in, began to help in the arranging\nof seats.\n\nIt was after eight o'clock when Alexander Powers opened the door of\nhis office and started for home. He was going to take a car at the\ncorner of the Rectangle. But he was roused by a voice coming from\nthe tent.\n\nIt was the voice of Rachel Winslow. It struck through his\nconsciousness of struggle over his own question that had sent him\ninto the Divine Presence for an answer. He had not yet reached a\nconclusion. He was tortured with uncertainty. His whole previous\ncourse of action as a railroad man was the poorest possible\npreparation for anything sacrificial. And he could not yet say what\nhe would do in the matter.\n\nHark! What was she singing? How did Rachel Winslow happen to be down\nhere? Several windows near by went up. Some men quarreling near a\nsaloon stopped and listened. Other figures were walking rapidly in\nthe direction of the Rectangle and the tent. Surely Rachel Winslow\nhad never sung like that in the First Church. It was a marvelous\nvoice. What was it she was singing? Again Alexander Powers,\nSuperintendent of the machine shops, paused and listened,\n\n    \"Where He leads me I will follow,\n     Where He leads me I will follow,\n     Where He leads me I will follow,\n     I'll go with Him, with Him.\n     All the way!\"\n\nThe brutal, coarse, impure life of the Rectangle stirred itself into\nnew life as the song, as pure as the surroundings were vile, floated\nout and into saloon and den and foul lodging. Some one stumbled\nhastily by Alexander Powers and said in answer to a question: \"De\ntent's beginning to run over tonight. That's what the talent calls\nmusic, eh?\"\n\nThe Superintendent turned toward the tent. Then he stopped. After a\nminute of indecision he went on to the corner and took the car for his\nhome. But before he was out of the sound of Rachel's voice he knew he\nhad settled for himself the question of what Jesus would do.\n\n\n\nChapter Eight\n\n\n\"If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up\nhis cross daily and follow me.\"\n\n\nHENRY MAXWELL paced his study back and forth. It was Wednesday and\nhe had started to think out the subject of his evening service which\nfell upon that night. Out of one of his study windows he could see\nthe tall chimney of the railroad shops. The top of the evangelist's\ntent just showed over the buildings around the Rectangle. He looked\nout of his window every time he turned in his walk. After a while he\nsat down at his desk and drew a large piece of paper toward him.\nAfter thinking several moments he wrote in large letters the\nfollowing:\n\nA NUMBER OF THINGS THAT JESUS WOULD PROBABLY DO IN THIS PARISH\n\nLive in a simple, plain manner, without needless luxury on the one\nhand or undue asceticism on the other. Preach fearlessly to the\nhypocrites in the church, no matter what their social importance or\nwealth. Show in some practical form His sympathy and love for the\ncommon people as well as for the well-to-do, educated, refined\npeople who make up the majority of the parish. Identify Himself with\nthe great causes of humanity in some personal way that would call\nfor self-denial and suffering. Preach against the saloon in Raymond.\nBecome known as a friend and companion of the sinful people in the\nRectangle. Give up the summer trip to Europe this year. (I have been\nabroad twice and cannot claim any special need of rest. I am well,\nand could forego this pleasure, using the money for some one who\nneeds a vacation more than I do. There are probably plenty of such\npeople in the city.)\n\nHe was conscious, with a humility that was once a stranger to him,\nthat his outline of Jesus' probable action was painfully lacking in\ndepth and power, but he was seeking carefully for concrete shapes\ninto which he might cast his thought of Jesus' conduct. Nearly every\npoint he had put down, meant, for him, a complete overturning of the\ncustom and habit of years in the ministry. In spite of that, he\nstill searched deeper for sources of the Christ-like spirit. He did\nnot attempt to write any more, but sat at his desk absorbed in his\neffort to catch more and more the spirit of Jesus in his own life.\nHe had forgotten the particular subject for his prayer meeting with\nwhich he had begun his morning study.\n\nHe was so absorbed over his thought that he did not hear the bell\nring; he was roused by the servant who announced a caller. He had\nsent up his name, Mr. Gray.\n\nMaxwell stepped to the head of the stairs and asked Gray to come up.\nSo Gray came up and stated the reason for his call.\n\n\"I want your help, Mr. Maxwell. Of course you have heard what a\nwonderful meeting we had Monday night and last night. Miss Winslow\nhas done more with her voice than I could do, and the tent won't\nhold the people.\"\n\n\"I've heard of that. It is the first time the people there have\nheard her. It is no wonder they are attracted.\"\n\n\"It has been a wonderful revelation to us, and a most encouraging\nevent in our work. But I came to ask if you could not come down\ntonight and preach. I am suffering from a severe cold. I do not dare\ntrust my voice again. I know it is asking a good deal from such a\nbusy man. But, if you can't come, say so frankly, and I'll try\nsomewhere else.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, but it's my regular prayer meeting night,\" began Henry\nMaxwell. Then he flushed and added, \"I shall be able to arrange it\nin some way so as to come down. You can count on me.\"\n\nGray thanked him earnestly and rose to go.\n\n\"Won't you stay a minute, Gray, and let us have a prayer together?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Gray simply.\n\nSo the two men kneeled together in the study. Henry Maxwell prayed\nlike a child. Gray was touched to tears as he knelt there. There was\nsomething almost pitiful in the way this man who had lived his\nministerial life in such a narrow limit of exercise now begged for\nwisdom and strength to speak a message to the people in the\nRectangle.\n\nGray rose and held out his hand. \"God bless you, Mr. Maxwell. I'm\nsure the Spirit will give you power tonight.\"\n\nHenry Maxwell made no answer. He did not even trust himself to say\nthat he hoped so. But he thought of his promise and it brought him a\ncertain peace that was refreshing to his heart and mind alike.\n\nSo that is how it came about that when the First Church audience\ncame into the lecture room that evening it met with another\nsurprise. There was an unusually large number present. The prayer\nmeetings ever since that remarkable Sunday morning had been attended\nas never before in the history of the First Church. Mr. Maxwell came\nat once to the point.\n\n\"I feel that I am called to go down to the Rectangle tonight, and I\nwill leave it with you to say whether you will go on with this\nmeeting here. I think perhaps the best plan would be for a few\nvolunteers to go down to the Rectangle with me prepared to help in\nthe after-meeting, if necessary, and the rest to remain here and\npray that the Spirit power may go with us.\"\n\nSo half a dozen of the men went with the pastor, and the rest of the\naudience stayed in the lecture room. Maxwell could not escape the\nthought as he left the room that probably in his entire church\nmembership there might not be found a score of disciples who were\ncapable of doing work that would successfully lead needy, sinful men\ninto the knowledge of Christ. The thought did not linger in his mind\nto vex him as he went his way, but it was simply a part of his whole\nnew conception of the meaning of Christian discipleship.\n\nWhen he and his little company of volunteers reached the Rectangle,\nthe tent was already crowded. They had difficulty in getting to the\nplatform. Rachel was there with Virginia and Jasper Chase who had\ncome instead of the Doctor tonight.\n\nWhen the meeting began with a song in which Rachel sang the solo and\nthe people were asked to join in the chorus, not a foot of standing\nroom was left in the tent. The night was mild and the sides of the\ntent were up and a great border of faces stretched around, looking\nin and forming part of the audience. After the singing, and a prayer\nby one of the city pastors who was present, Gray stated the reason\nfor his inability to speak, and in his simple manner turned the\nservice over to \"Brother Maxwell of the First Church.\"\n\n\"Who's de bloke?\" asked a hoarse voice near the outside of the tent.\n\n\"De Fust Church parson. We've got de whole high-tone swell outfit\ntonight.\"\n\n\"Did you say Fust Church? I know him. My landlord's got a front pew\nup there,\" said another voice, and there was a laugh, for the\nspeaker was a saloon keeper.\n\n\"Trow out de life line 'cross de dark wave!\" began a drunken man\nnear by, singing in such an unconscious imitation of a local\ntraveling singer's nasal tone that roars of laughter and jeers of\napproval rose around him. The people in the tent turned in the\ndirection of the disturbance. There were shouts of \"Put him out!\"\n\"Give the Fust Church a chance!\" \"Song! Song! Give us another song!\"\n\nHenry Maxwell stood up, and a great wave of actual terror went over\nhim. This was not like preaching to the well-dressed, respectable,\ngood-mannered people up on the boulevard. He began to speak, but the\nconfusion increased. Gray went down into the crowd, but did not seem\nable to quiet it. Maxwell raised his arm and his voice. The crowd in\nthe tent began to pay some attention, but the noise on the outside\nincreased. In a few minutes the audience was beyond his control. He\nturned to Rachel with a sad smile.\n\n\"Sing something, Miss Winslow. They will listen to you,\" he said,\nand then sat down and covered his face with his hands.\n\nIt was Rachel's opportunity, and she was fully equal to it. Virginia\nwas at the organ and Rachel asked her to play a few notes of the\nhymn.\n\n    \"Savior, I follow on,\n     Guided by Thee,\n     Seeing not yet the hand\n     That leadeth me.\n     Hushed be my heart and still\n     Fear I no farther ill,\n     Only to meet Thy will,\n     My will shall be.\"\n\nRachel had not sung the first line before the people in the tent\nwere all turned toward her, hushed and reverent. Before she had\nfinished the verse the Rectangle was subdued and tamed. It lay like\nsome wild beast at her feet, and she sang it into harmlessness. Ah!\nWhat were the flippant, perfumed, critical audiences in concert\nhalls compared with this dirty, drunken, impure, besotted mass of\nhumanity that trembled and wept and grew strangely, sadly thoughtful\nunder the touch of this divine ministry of this beautiful young\nwoman! Mr. Maxwell, as he raised his head and saw the transformed\nmob, had a glimpse of something that Jesus would probably do with a\nvoice like Rachel Winslow's. Jasper Chase sat with his eyes on the\nsinger, and his greatest longing as an ambitious author was\nswallowed up in his thought of what Rachel Winslow's love might\nsometimes mean to him. And over in the shadow outside stood the last\nperson any one might have expected to see at a gospel tent\nservice--Rollin Page, who, jostled on every side by rough men and\nwomen who stared at the swell in fine clothes, seemed careless of\nhis surroundings and at the same time evidently swayed by the power\nthat Rachel possessed. He had just come over from the club. Neither\nRachel nor Virginia saw him that night.\n\nThe song was over. Maxwell rose again. This time he felt calmer.\nWhat would Jesus do? He spoke as he thought once he never could\nspeak. Who were these people? They were immortal souls. What was\nChristianity? A calling of sinners, not the righteous, to\nrepentance. How would Jesus speak? What would He say? He could not\ntell all that His message would include, but he felt sure of a part\nof it. And in that certainty he spoke on. Never before had he felt\n\"compassion for the multitude.\" What had the multitude been to him\nduring his ten years in the First Church but a vague, dangerous,\ndirty, troublesome factor in society, outside of the church and of\nhis reach, an element that caused him occasionally an unpleasant\ntwinge of conscience, a factor in Raymond that was talked about at\nassociations as the \"masses,\" in papers written by the brethren in\nattempts to show why the \"masses\" were not being reached. But\ntonight as he faced the masses he asked himself whether, after all,\nthis was not just about such a multitude as Jesus faced oftenest,\nand he felt the genuine emotion of love for a crowd which is one of\nthe best indications a preacher ever has that he is living close to\nthe heart of the world's eternal Life. It is easy to love an\nindividual sinner, especially if he is personally picturesque or\ninteresting. To love a multitude of sinners is distinctively a\nChrist-like quality.\n\nWhen the meeting closed, there was no special interest shown. No one\nstayed to the after-meeting. The people rapidly melted away from the\ntent, and the saloons, which had been experiencing a dull season\nwhile the meetings progressed, again drove a thriving trade. The\nRectangle, as if to make up for lost time, started in with vigor on\nits usual night debauch. Maxwell and his little party, including\nVirginia, Rachel and Jasper Chase, walked down past the row of\nsaloons and dens until they reached the corner where the cars\npassed.\n\n\"This is a terrible spot,\" said the minister as he stood waiting for\ntheir car. \"I never realized that Raymond had such a festering sore.\nIt does not seem possible that this is a city full of Christian\ndisciples.\"\n\n\"Do you think any one can ever remove this great curse of drink?\"\nasked Jasper Chase.\n\n\"I have thought lately as never before of what Christian people\nmight do to remove the curse of the saloon. Why don't we all act\ntogether against it? Why don't the Christian pastors and the church\nmembers of Raymond move as one man against the traffic? What would\nJesus do? Would He keep silent? Would He vote to license these\ncauses of crime and death?\"\n\nHe was talking to himself more than to the others. He remembered\nthat he had always voted for license, and so had nearly all his\nchurch members. What would Jesus do? Could he answer that question?\nWould the Master preach and act against the saloon if He lived\ntoday? How would He preach and act? Suppose it was not popular to\npreach against license? Suppose the Christian people thought it was\nall that could be done to license the evil and so get revenue from\nthe necessary sin? Or suppose the church members themselves owned\nthe property where the saloons stood--what then? He knew that those\nwere the facts in Raymond. What would Jesus do?\n\nHe went up into his study the next morning with that question only\npartly answered. He thought of it all day. He was still thinking of\nit and reaching certain real conclusions when the EVENING NEWS came.\nHis wife brought it up and sat down a few minutes while he read to\nher.\n\nThe EVENING NEWS was at present the most sensational paper in\nRaymond. That is to say, it was being edited in such a remarkable\nfashion that its subscribers had never been so excited over a\nnewspaper before. First they had noticed the absence of the prize\nfight, and gradually it began to dawn upon them that the NEWS no\nlonger printed accounts of crime with detailed descriptions, or\nscandals in private life. Then they noticed that the advertisements\nof liquor and tobacco were dropped, together with certain others of\na questionable character. The discontinuance of the Sunday paper\ncaused the greatest comment of all, and now the character of the\neditorials was creating the greatest excitement. A quotation from\nthe Monday paper of this week will show what Edward Norman was doing\nto keep his promise. The editorial was headed:\n\nTHE MORAL SIDE OF POLITICAL QUESTIONS\n\nThe editor of the News has always advocated the principles of the\ngreat political party at present in power, and has heretofore\ndiscussed all political questions from the standpoint of expediency,\nor of belief in the party as opposed to other political\norganizations. Hereafter, to be perfectly honest with all our\nreaders, the editor will present and discuss all political questions\nfrom the standpoint of right and wrong. In other words, the first\nquestion asked in this office about any political question will not\nbe, \"Is it in the interests of our party?\" or, \"Is it according to\nthe principles laid down by our party in its platform?\" but the\nquestion first asked will be, \"Is this measure in accordance with\nthe spirit and teachings of Jesus as the author of the greatest\nstandard of life known to men?\" That is, to be perfectly plain, the\nmoral side of every political question will be considered its most\nimportant side, and the ground will be distinctly taken that nations\nas well as individuals are under the same law to do all things to\nthe glory of God as the first rule of action.\n\nThe same principle will be observed in this office toward candidates\nfor places of responsibility and trust in the republic. Regardless\nof party politics the editor of the News will do all in his power to\nbring the best men into power, and will not knowingly help to\nsupport for office any candidate who is unworthy, no matter how much\nhe may be endorsed by the party. The first question asked about the\nman and about the measures will be, \"Is he the right man for the\nplace?\" \"Is he a good man with ability?\" \"Is the measure right?\"\n\nThere had been more of this, but we have quoted enough to show the\ncharacter of the editorial. Hundreds of men in Raymond had read it\nand rubbed their eyes in amazement. A good many of them had promptly\nwritten to the NEWS, telling the editor to stop their paper. The\npaper still came out, however, and was eagerly read all over the\ncity. At the end of a week Edward Norman knew very well that he was\nfast losing a large number of subscribers. He faced the conditions\ncalmly, although Clark, the managing editor, grimly anticipated\nultimate bankruptcy, especially since Monday's editorial.\n\nTonight, as Maxwell read to his wife, he could see in almost every\ncolumn evidences of Norman's conscientious obedience to his promise.\nThere was an absence of slangy, sensational scare heads. The reading\nmatter under the head lines was in perfect keeping with them. He\nnoticed in two columns that the reporters' name appeared signed at\nthe bottom. And there was a distinct advance in the dignity and\nstyle of their contributions.\n\n\"So Norman is beginning to get his reporters to sign their work. He\nhas talked with me about that. It is a good thing. It fixes\nresponsibility for items where it belongs and raises the standard of\nwork done. A good thing all around for the public and the writers.\"\n\nMaxwell suddenly paused. His wife looked up from some work she was\ndoing. He was reading something with the utmost interest. \"Listen to\nthis, Mary,\" he said, after a moment while his lip trembled:\n\n\"This morning Alexander Powers, Superintendent of the L. and T. R. R.\nshops in this city, handed in his resignation to the road, and gave\nas his reason the fact that certain proofs had fallen into his hands\nof the violation of the Interstate Commerce Law, and also of the\nstate law which has recently been framed to prevent and punish\nrailroad pooling for the benefit of certain favored shippers. Mr.\nPowers states in his resignation that he can no longer consistently\nwithhold the information he possesses against the road. He will be a\nwitness against it. He has placed his evidence against the company\nin the hands of the Commission and it is now for them to take action\nupon it.\n\nThe News wishes to express itself on this action of Mr. Powers. In\nthe first place he has nothing to gain by it. He has lost a very\nvaluable place voluntarily, when by keeping silent he might have\nretained it. In the second place, we believe his action ought to\nreceive the approval of all thoughtful, honest citizens who believe\nin seeing law obeyed and lawbreakers brought to justice. In a case\nlike this, where evidence against a railroad company is generally\nunderstood to be almost impossible to obtain, it is the general\nbelief that the officers of the road are often in possession of\ncriminating facts but do not consider it to be any of their business\nto inform the authorities that the law is being defied. The entire\nresult of this evasion of responsibility on the part of those who\nare responsible is demoralizing to every young man connected with\nthe road. The editor of the News recalls the statement made by a\nprominent railroad official in this city a little while ago, that\nnearly every clerk in a certain department of the road understood\nthat large sums of money were made by shrewd violations of the\nInterstate Commerce Law, was ready to admire the shrewdness with\nwhich it was done, and declared that they would all do the same\nthing if they were high enough in railroad circles to attempt it.\"\n\nIt is not necessary to say that such a condition of business is\ndestructive to all the nobler and higher standards of conduct, and no\nyoung man can live in such an atmosphere of unpunished dishonesty and\nlawlessness without wrecking his character.\n\nIn our judgment, Mr. Powers did the only thing that a Christian man\ncould do. He has rendered brave and useful service to the state and\nthe general public. It is not always an easy matter to determine the\nrelations that exist between the individual citizen and his fixed\nduty to the public. In this case there is no doubt in our minds that\nthe step which Mr. Powers has taken commends itself to every man\nwho believes in law and its enforcement. There are times when the\nindividual must act for the people in ways that will mean sacrifice and\nloss to him of the gravest character. Mr. Powers will be misunderstood\nand misrepresented, but there is no question that his course will be\napproved by every citizen who wishes to see the greatest corporation\nas well as the weakest individual subject to the same law. Mr. Powers\nhas done all that a loyal, patriotic citizen could do. It now remains\nfor the Commission to act upon his evidence which, we understand, is\noverwhelming proof of the lawlessness of the L. and T. Let the law be\nenforced, no matter who the persons may be who have been guilty.\n\n\n\nChapter Nine\n\n\nHENRY MAXWELL finished reading and dropped the paper.\n\n\"I must go and see Powers. This is the result of his promise.\"\n\nHe rose, and as he was going out, his wife said: \"Do you think,\nHenry, that Jesus would have done that?\"\n\nMaxwell paused a moment. Then he answered slowly, \"Yes, I think He\nwould. At any rate, Powers has decided so and each one of us who\nmade the promise understands that he is not deciding Jesus' conduct\nfor any one else, only for himself.\"\n\n\"How about his family? How will Mrs. Powers and Celia be likely to\ntake it?\"\n\n\"Very hard, I've no doubt. That will be Powers' cross in this\nmatter. They will not understand his motive.\"\n\nMaxwell went out and walked over to the next block where\nSuperintendent Powers lived. To his relief, Powers himself came to\nthe door.\n\nThe two men shook hands silently. They instantly understood each\nother without words. There had never before been such a bond of\nunion between the minister and his parishioner.\n\n\"What are you going to do?\" Henry Maxwell asked after they had\ntalked over the facts in the case.\n\n\"You mean another position? I have no plans yet. I can go back to my\nold work as a telegraph operator. My family will not suffer, except\nin a social way.\"\n\nPowers spoke calmly and sadly. Henry Maxwell did not need to ask him\nhow the wife and daughter felt. He knew well enough that the\nsuperintendent had suffered deepest at that point.\n\n\"There is one matter I wish you would see to,\" said Powers after\nawhile, \"and that is, the work begun at the shops. So far as I know,\nthe company will not object to that going on. It is one of the\ncontradictions of the railroad world that Y. M. C. A.'s and other\nChristian influences are encouraged by the roads, while all the time\nthe most un-Christian and lawless acts may be committed in the\nofficial management of the roads themselves. Of course it is well\nunderstood that it pays a railroad to have in its employ men who are\ntemperate, honest and Christian. So I have no doubt the master\nmechanic will have the same courtesy shown him in the use of the\nroom. But what I want you to do, Mr. Maxwell, is to see that my plan\nis carried out. Will you? You understand what it was in general. You\nmade a very favorable impression on the men. Go down there as often\nas you can. Get Milton Wright interested to provide something for\nthe furnishing and expense of the coffee plant and reading tables.\nWill you do it?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Henry Maxwell. He stayed a little longer. Before he\nwent away, he and the superintendent had a prayer together, and they\nparted with that silent hand grasp that seemed to them like a new\ntoken of their Christian discipleship and fellowship.\n\nThe pastor of the First Church went home stirred deeply by the\nevents of the week. Gradually the truth was growing upon him that\nthe pledge to do as Jesus would was working out a revolution in his\nparish and throughout the city. Every day added to the serious\nresults of obedience to that pledge. Maxwell did not pretend to see\nthe end. He was, in fact, only now at the very beginning of events\nthat were destined to change the history of hundreds of families not\nonly in Raymond but throughout the entire country. As he thought of\nEdward Norman and Rachel and Mr. Powers, and of the results that had\nalready come from their actions, he could not help a feeling of\nintense interest in the probable effect if all the persons in the\nFirst Church who had made the pledge, faithfully kept it. Would they\nall keep it, or would some of them turn back when the cross became\ntoo heavy?\n\nHe was asking this question the next morning as he sat in his study\nwhen the President of the Endeavor Society of his church called to\nsee him.\n\n\"I suppose I ought not to trouble you with my case,\" said young\nMorris coming at once to his errand, \"but I thought, Mr. Maxwell,\nthat you might advise me a little.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you came. Go on, Fred.\" He had known the young man ever\nsince his first year in the pastorate, and loved and honored him for\nhis consistent, faithful service in the church.\n\n\"Well, the fact is, I am out of a job. You know I've been doing\nreporter work on the morning SENTINEL since I graduated last year.\nWell, last Saturday Mr. Burr asked me to go down the road Sunday\nmorning and get the details of that train robbery at the Junction,\nand write the thing up for the extra edition that came out Monday\nmorning, just to get the start of the NEWS. I refused to go, and\nBurr gave me my dismissal. He was in a bad temper, or I think\nperhaps he would not have done it. He has always treated me well\nbefore. Now, do you think Jesus would have done as I did? I ask\nbecause the other fellows say I was a fool not to do the work. I\nwant to feel that a Christian acts from motives that may seem\nstrange to others sometimes, but not foolish. What do you think?\"\n\n\"I think you kept your promise, Fred. I cannot believe Jesus would\ndo newspaper reporting on Sunday as you were asked to do it.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mr. Maxwell. I felt a little troubled over it, but the\nlonger I think it over the better I feel.\"\n\nMorris rose to go, and his pastor rose and laid a loving hand on the\nyoung man's shoulder. \"What are you going to do, Fred?\"\n\n\"I don't know yet. I have thought some of going to Chicago or some\nlarge city .\"\n\n\"Why don't you try the NEWS?\"\n\n\"They are all supplied. I have not thought of applying there.\"\n\nMaxwell thought a moment. \"Come down to the NEWS office with me, and\nlet us see Norman about it.\"\n\nSo a few minutes later Edward Norman received into his room the\nminister and young Morris, and Maxwell briefly told the cause of the\nerrand.\n\n\"I can give you a place on the NEWS,\" said Norman with his keen look\nsoftened by a smile that made it winsome. \"I want reporters who\nwon't work Sundays. And what is more, I am making plans for a\nspecial kind of reporting which I believe you can develop because\nyou are in sympathy with what Jesus would do.\"\n\nHe assigned Morris a definite task, and Maxwell started back to his\nstudy, feeling that kind of satisfaction (and it is a very deep\nkind) which a man feels when he has been even partly instrumental in\nfinding an unemployed person a remunerative position.\n\nHe had intended to go right to his study, but on his way home he\npassed by one of Milton Wright's stores. He thought he would simply\nstep in and shake hands with his parishioner and bid him God-speed\nin what he had heard he was doing to put Christ into his business.\nBut when he went into the office, Wright insisted on detaining him\nto talk over some of his new plans. Maxwell asked himself if this\nwas the Milton Wright he used to know, eminently practical,\nbusiness-like, according to the regular code of the business world,\nand viewing every thing first and foremost from the standpoint of,\n\"Will it pay?\"\n\n\"There is no use to disguise the fact, Mr. Maxwell, that I have been\ncompelled to revolutionize the entire method of my business since I\nmade that promise. I have been doing a great many things during the\nlast twenty years in this store that I know Jesus would not do. But\nthat is a small item compared with the number of things I begin to\nbelieve Jesus would do. My sins of commission have not been as many\nas those of omission in business relations.\"\n\n\"What was the first change you made?\" He felt as if his sermon could\nwait for him in his study. As the interview with Milton Wright\ncontinued, he was not so sure but that he had found material for a\nsermon without going back to his study.\n\n\"I think the first change I had to make was in my thought of my\nemployees. I came down here Monday morning after that Sunday and\nasked myself, 'What would Jesus do in His relation to these clerks,\nbookkeepers, office-boys, draymen, salesmen? Would He try to\nestablish some sort of personal relation to them different from that\nwhich I have sustained all these years?' I soon answered this by\nsaying, 'Yes.' Then came the question of what that relation would be\nand what it would lead me to do. I did not see how I could answer it\nto my satisfaction without getting all my employees together and\nhaving a talk with them. So I sent invitations to all of them, and\nwe had a meeting out there in the warehouse Tuesday night. A good\nmany things came out of that meeting. I can't tell you all. I tried\nto talk with the men as I imagined Jesus might. It was hard work,\nfor I have not been in the habit of it, and must have made some\nmistakes. But I can hardly make you believe, Mr. Maxwell, the effect\nof that meeting on some of the men. Before it closed I saw more than\na dozen of them with tears on their faces. I kept asking, 'What\nwould Jesus do?' and the more I asked it the farther along it pushed\nme into the most intimate and loving relations with the men who have\nworked for me all these years. Every day something new is coming up\nand I am right now in the midst of a reconstruction of the entire\nbusiness so far as its motive for being conducted is concerned. I am\nso practically ignorant of all plans for co-operation and its\napplication to business that I am trying to get information from\nevery possible source. I have lately made a special study of the\nlife of Titus Salt, the great mill-owner of Bradford, England, who\nafterward built that model town on the banks of the Aire. There is a\ngood deal in his plans that will help me. But I have not yet reached\ndefinite conclusions in regard to all the details. I am not enough\nused to Jesus' methods. But see here.\"\n\nWright eagerly reached up into one of the pigeon holes of his desk\nand took out a paper.\n\n\"I have sketched out what seems to me like a program such as Jesus\nmight go by in a business like mine. I want you to tell me what you\nthink of it:\n\n\"WHAT JESUS WOULD PROBABLY DO IN MILTON WRIGHT'S PLACE AS A BUSINESS\nMAN\"\n\nHe would engage in the business first of all for the purpose of\nglorifying God, and not for the primary purpose of making money. All\nmoney that might be made he would never regard as his own, but as\ntrust funds to be used for the good of humanity. His relations with\nall the persons in his employ would be the most loving and helpful.\nHe could not help thinking of all of them in the light of souls to\nbe saved. This thought would always be greater than his thought of\nmaking money in the business. He would never do a single dishonest\nor questionable thing or try in any remotest way to get the\nadvantage of any one else in the same business. The principle of\nunselfishness and helpfulness in the business would direct all its\ndetails. Upon this principle he would shape the entire plan of his\nrelations to his employees, to the people who were his customers and\nto the general business world with which he was connected.\n\nHenry Maxwell read this over slowly. It reminded him of his own\nattempts the day before to put into a concrete form his thought of\nJesus' probable action. He was very thoughtful as he looked up and\nmet Wright's eager gaze.\n\n\"Do you believe you can continue to make your business pay on these\nlines?\"\n\n\"I do. Intelligent unselfishness ought to be wiser than intelligent\nselfishness, don't you think? If the men who work as employees begin\nto feel a personal share in the profits of the business and, more\nthan that, a personal love for themselves on the part of the firm,\nwon't the result be more care, less waste, more diligence, more\nfaithfulness?\"\n\n\"Yes, I think so. A good many other business men don't, do they? I\nmean as a general thing. How about your relations to the selfish\nworld that is not trying to make money on Christian principles?\"\n\n\"That complicates my action, of course.\"\n\n\"Does your plan contemplate what is coming to be known as\nco-operation?\"\n\n\"Yes, as far as I have gone, it does. As I told you, I am studying\nout my details carefully. I am absolutely convinced that Jesus in my\nplace would be absolutely unselfish. He would love all these men in\nHis employ. He would consider the main purpose of all the business\nto be a mutual helpfulness, and would conduct it all so that God's\nkingdom would be evidently the first object sought. On those general\nprinciples, as I say, I am working. I must have time to complete the\ndetails.\"\n\nWhen Maxwell finally left he was profoundly impressed with the\nrevolution that was being wrought already in the business. As he\npassed out of the store he caught something of the new spirit of the\nplace. There was no mistaking the fact that Milton Wright's new\nrelations to his employees were beginning even so soon, after less\nthan two weeks, to transform the entire business. This was apparent\nin the conduct and faces of the clerks.\n\n\"If he keeps on he will be one of the most influential preachers in\nRaymond,\" said Maxwell to himself when he reached his study. The\nquestion rose as to his continuance in this course when he began to\nlose money by it, as was possible. He prayed that the Holy Spirit,\nwho had shown Himself with growing power in the company of First\nChurch disciples, might abide long with them all. And with that\nprayer on his lips and in his heart he began the preparation of a\nsermon in which he was going to present to his people on Sunday the\nsubject of the saloon in Raymond, as he now believed Jesus would do.\nHe had never preached against the saloon in this way before. He knew\nthat the things he should say would lead to serious results.\nNevertheless, he went on with his work, and every sentence he wrote\nor shaped was preceded with the question, \"Would Jesus say that?\"\nOnce in the course of his study, he went down on his knees. No one\nexcept himself could know what that meant to him. When had he done\nthat in his preparation of sermons, before the change that had come\ninto his thought of discipleship? As he viewed his ministry now, he\ndid not dare preach without praying long for wisdom. He no longer\nthought of his dramatic delivery and its effect on his audience. The\ngreat question with him now was, \"What would Jesus do?\"\n\nSaturday night at the Rectangle witnessed some of the most\nremarkable scenes that Mr. Gray and his wife had ever known. The\nmeetings had intensified with each night of Rachel's singing. A\nstranger passing through the Rectangle in the day-time might have\nheard a good deal about the meetings in one way and another. It\ncannot be said that up to that Saturday night there was any\nappreciable lack of oaths and impurity and heavy drinking. The\nRectangle would not have acknowledged that it was growing any better\nor that even the singing had softened its outward manner. It had too\nmuch local pride in being \"tough.\" But in spite of itself there was\na yielding to a power it had never measured and did not know we\nenough to resist beforehand.\n\nGray had recovered his voice so that by Saturday he was able to\nspeak. The fact that he was obliged to use his voice carefully made\nit necessary for the people to be very quiet if they wanted to hear.\nGradually they had come to understand that this man was talking\nthese many weeks and giving his time and strength to give them a\nknowledge of a Savior, all out of a perfectly unselfish love for\nthem. Tonight the great crowd was as quiet as Henry Maxwell's\ndecorous audience ever was. The fringe around the tent was deeper\nand the saloons were practically empty. The Holy Spirit had come at\nlast, and Gray knew that one of the great prayers of his life was\ngoing to be answered.\n\nAnd Rachel her singing was the best, most wonderful, that Virginia\nor Jasper Chase had ever known. They came together again tonight,\nthis time with Dr. West, who had spent all his spare time that week\nin the Rectangle with some charity cases. Virginia was at the organ,\nJasper sat on a front seat looking up at Rachel, and the Rectangle\nswayed as one man towards the platform as she sang:\n\n    \"Just as I am, without one plea,\n     But that Thy blood was shed for me,\n     And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,\n     O Lamb of God, I come, I come.\"\n\nGray hardly said a word. He stretched out his hand with a gesture of\ninvitation. And down the two aisles of the tent, broken, sinful\ncreatures, men and women, stumbled towards the platform. One woman\nout of the street was near the organ. Virginia caught the look of\nher face, and for the first time in the life of the rich girl the\nthought of what Jesus was to the sinful woman came with a suddenness\nand power that was like nothing but a new birth. Virginia left the\norgan, went to her, looked into her face and caught her hands in her\nown. The other girl trembled, then fell on her knees sobbing, with\nher head down upon the back of the rude bench in front of her, still\nclinging to Virginia. And Virginia, after a moment's hesitation,\nkneeled down by her and the two heads were bowed close together.\n\nBut when the people had crowded in a double row all about the\nplatform, most of them kneeling and crying, a man in evening dress,\ndifferent from the others, pushed through the seats and came and\nkneeled down by the side of the drunken man who had disturbed the\nmeeting when Maxwell spoke. He kneeled within a few feet of Rachel\nWinslow, who was still singing softly. And as she turned for a\nmoment and looked in his direction, she was amazed to see the face\nof Rollin Page! For a moment her voice faltered. Then she went on:\n\n    \"Just as I am, thou wilt receive,\n     Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve,\n     Because Thy promise I believe,\n     O Lamb of God, I come, I come.\"\n\nThe voice was as the voice of divine longing, and the Rectangle for the\ntime being was swept into the harbor of redemptive grace.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Ten\n\n\n\"If any man serve me, let him follow me.\"\n\n\nIT was nearly midnight before the services at the Rectangle closed.\nGray stayed up long into Sunday morning, praying and talking with a\nlittle group of converts who in the great experiences of their new\nlife, clung to the evangelist with a personal helplessness that made\nit as impossible for him to leave them as if they had been depending\nupon him to save them from physical death. Among these converts was\nRollin Page.\n\nVirginia and her uncle had gone home about eleven o'clock, and\nRachel and Jasper Chase had gone with them as far as the avenue\nwhere Virginia lived. Dr. West had walked on a little way with them\nto his own home, and Rachel and Jasper had then gone on together to\nher mother's.\n\nThat was a little after eleven. It was now striking midnight, and\nJasper Chase sat in his room staring at the papers on his desk and\ngoing over the last half hour with painful persistence.\n\nHe had told Rachel Winslow of his love for her, and she had not\ngiven him her love in return. It would be difficult to know what was\nmost powerful in the impulse that had moved him to speak to her\ntonight. He had yielded to his feelings without any special thought\nof results to himself, because he had felt so certain that Rachel\nwould respond to his love. He tried to recall the impression she\nmade on him when he first spoke to her.\n\nNever had her beauty and her strength influenced him as tonight.\nWhile she was singing he saw and heard no one else. The tent swarmed\nwith a confused crowd of faces and he knew he was sitting there\nhemmed in by a mob of people, but they had no meaning to him. He\nfelt powerless to avoid speaking to her. He knew he should speak\nwhen they were alone.\n\nNow that he had spoken, he felt that he had misjudged either Rachel\nor the opportunity. He knew, or thought he knew, that she had begun\nto care something for him. It was no secret between them that the\nheroine of Jasper's first novel had been his own ideal of Rachel,\nand the hero in the story was himself and they had loved each other\nin the book, and Rachel had not objected. No one else knew. The\nnames and characters had been drawn with a subtle skill that\nrevealed to Rachel, when she received a copy of the book from\nJasper, the fact of his love for her, and she had not been offended.\nThat was nearly a year ago.\n\nTonight he recalled the scene between them with every inflection and\nmovement unerased from his memory. He even recalled the fact that he\nbegan to speak just at that point on the avenue where, a few days\nbefore, he had met Rachel walking with Rollin Page. He had wondered\nat the time what Rollin was saying.\n\n\"Rachel,\" Jasper had said, and it was the first time he had ever\nspoken her first name, \"I never knew till tonight how much I loved\nyou. Why should I try to conceal any longer what you have seen me\nlook? You know I love you as my life. I can no longer hide it from\nyou if I would.\"\n\nThe first intimation he had of a repulse was the trembling of\nRachel's arm in his. She had allowed him to speak and had neither\nturned her face toward him nor away from him. She had looked\nstraight on and her voice was sad but firm and quiet when she spoke.\n\n\"Why do you speak to me now? I cannot bear it--after what we have\nseen tonight.\"\n\n\"Why--what--\" he had stammered and then was silent.\n\nRachel withdrew her arm from his but still walked near him. Then he\nhad cried out with the anguish of one who begins to see a great loss\nfacing him where he expected a great joy.\n\n\"Rachel! Do you not love me? Is not my love for you as sacred as\nanything in all of life itself?\"\n\nShe had walked silent for a few steps after that. They passed a\nstreet lamp. Her face was pale and beautiful. He had made a movement\nto clutch her arm and she had moved a little farther from him.\n\n\"No,\" she had replied. \"There was a time I--cannot answer for that\nyou--should not have spoken to me--now.\"\n\nHe had seen in these words his answer. He was extremely sensitive.\nNothing short of a joyous response to his own love would ever have\nsatisfied him. He could not think of pleading with her.\n\n\"Some time--when I am more worthy?\" he had asked in a low voice, but\nshe did not seem to hear, and they had parted at her home, and he\nrecalled vividly the fact that no good-night had been said.\n\nNow as he went over the brief but significant scene he lashed\nhimself for his foolish precipitancy. He had not reckoned on\nRachel's tense, passionate absorption of all her feeling in the\nscenes at the tent which were so new in her mind. But he did not\nknow her well enough even yet to understand the meaning of her\nrefusal. When the clock in the First Church struck one he was still\nsitting at his desk staring at the last page of manuscript of his\nunfinished novel.\n\nRachel went up to her room and faced her evening's experience with\nconflicting emotions. Had she ever loved Jasper Chase? Yes. No. One\nmoment she felt that her life's happiness was at stake over the\nresult of her action. Another, she had a strange feeling of relief\nthat she had spoken as she had. There was one great, overmastering\nfeeling in her. The response of the wretched creatures in the tent\nto her singing, the swift, powerful, awesome presence of the Holy\nSpirit had affected her as never in all her life before. The moment\nJasper had spoken her name and she realized that he was telling her\nof his love she had felt a sudden revulsion for him, as if he should\nhave respected the supernatural events they had just witnessed. She\nfelt as if it was not the time to be absorbed in anything less than\nthe divine glory of those conversions. The thought that all the time\nshe was singing, with the one passion of her soul to touch the\nconscience of that tent full of sin, Jasper Chase had been unmoved\nby it except to love her for herself, gave her a shock as of\nirreverence on her part as well as on his. She could not tell why\nshe felt as she did, only she knew that if he had not told her\ntonight she would still have felt the same toward him as she always\nhad. What was that feeling? What had he been to her? Had she made a\nmistake? She went to her book case and took out the novel which\nJasper had given her. Her face deepened in color as she turned to\ncertain passages which she had read often and which she knew Jasper\nhad written for her. She read them again. Somehow they failed to\ntouch her strongly. She closed the book and let it lie on the table.\nShe gradually felt that her thought was busy with the sights she had\nwitnessed in the tent. Those faces, men and women, touched for the\nfirst time with the Spirit's glory--what a wonderful thing life was\nafter all! The complete regeneration revealed in the sight of\ndrunken, vile, debauched humanity kneeling down to give itself to a\nlife of purity and Christlikeness--oh, it was surely a witness to\nthe superhuman in the world! And the face of Rollin Page by the side\nof that miserable wreck out of the gutter! She could recall as if\nshe now saw it, Virginia crying with her arms about her brother just\nbefore she left the tent, and Mr. Gray kneeling close by, and the\ngirl Virginia had taken into her heart while she whispered something\nto her before she went out. All these pictures drawn by the Holy\nSpirit in the human tragedies brought to a climax there in the most\nabandoned spot in all Raymond, stood out in Rachel's memory now, a\nmemory so recent that her room seemed for the time being to contain\nall the actors and their movements.\n\n\"No! No!\" she said aloud. \"He had no right to speak after all that!\nHe should have respected the place where our thoughts should have\nbeen. I am sure I do not love him--not enough to give him my life!\"\n\nAnd after she had thus spoken, the evening's experience at the tent\ncame crowding in again, thrusting out all other things. It is\nperhaps the most striking evidence of the tremendous spiritual\nfactor which had now entered the Rectangle that Rachel felt, even\nwhen the great love of a strong man had come very near to her, that\nthe spiritual manifestation moved her with an agitation far greater\nthan anything Jasper had felt for her personally or she for him.\n\nThe people of Raymond awoke Sunday morning to a growing knowledge of\nevents which were beginning to revolutionize many of the regular,\ncustomary habits of the town. Alexander Powers' action in the matter\nof the railroad frauds had created a sensation not only in Raymond\nbut throughout the country. Edward Norman's daily changes of policy\nin the conduct of his paper had startled the community and caused\nmore comment than any recent political event. Rachel Winslow's\nsinging at the Rectangle meetings had made a stir in society and\nexcited the wonder of all her friends.\n\nVirginia's conduct, her presence every night with Rachel, her\nabsence from the usual circle of her wealthy, fashionable\nacquaintances, had furnished a great deal of material for gossip and\nquestion. In addition to these events which centered about these\npersons who were so well known, there had been all through the city\nin very many homes and in business and social circles strange\nhappenings. Nearly one hundred persons in Henry Maxwell's church had\nmade the pledge to do everything after asking: \"What would Jesus\ndo?\" and the result had been, in many cases, unheard-of actions. The\ncity was stirred as it had never been before. As a climax to the\nweek's events had come the spiritual manifestation at the Rectangle,\nand the announcement which came to most people before church time of\nthe actual conversion at the tent of nearly fifty of the worst\ncharacters in that neighborhood, together with the con version of\nRollin Page, the well-known society and club man.\n\nIt is no wonder that under the pressure of all this the First Church\nof Raymond came to the morning service in a condition that made it\nquickly sensitive to any large truth. Perhaps nothing had astonished\nthe people more than the great change that had come over the\nminister, since he had proposed to them the imitation of Jesus in\nconduct. The dramatic delivery of his sermons no longer impressed\nthem. The self-satisfied, contented, easy attitude of the fine\nfigure and refined face in the pulpit had been displaced by a manner\nthat could not be compared with the old style of his delivery. The\nsermon had become a message. It was no longer delivered. It was\nbrought to them with a love, an earnestness, a passion, a desire, a\nhumility that poured its enthusiasm about the truth and made the\nspeaker no more prominent than he had to be as the living voice of\nGod. His prayers were unlike any the people had heard before. They\nwere often broken, even once or twice they had been actually\nungrammatical in a phrase or two. When had Henry Maxwell so far\nforgotten himself in a prayer as to make a mistake of that sort? He\nknew that he had often taken as much pride in the diction and\ndelivery of his prayers as of his sermons. Was it possible he now so\nabhorred the elegant refinement of a formal public petition that he\npurposely chose to rebuke himself for his previous precise manner of\nprayer? It is more likely that he had no thought of all that. His\ngreat longing to voice the needs and wants of his people made him\nunmindful of an occasional mistake. It is certain that he had never\nprayed so effectively as he did now.\n\nThere are times when a sermon has a value and power due to\nconditions in the audience rather than to anything new or startling\nor eloquent in the words said or arguments presented. Such\nconditions faced Henry Maxwell this morning as he preached against\nthe saloon, according to his purpose determined on the week before.\nHe had no new statements to make about the evil influence of the\nsaloon in Raymond. What new facts were there? He had no startling\nillustrations of the power of the saloon in business or politics.\nWhat could he say that had not been said by temperance orators a\ngreat many times? The effect of his message this morning owed its\npower to the unusual fact of his preaching about the saloon at all,\ntogether with the events that had stirred the people. He had never\nin the course of his ten years' pastorate mentioned the saloon as\nsomething to be regarded in the light of an enemy, not only to the\npoor and tempted, but to the business life of the place and the\nchurch itself. He spoke now with a freedom that seemed to measure\nhis complete sense of conviction that Jesus would speak so. At the\nclose he pleaded with the people to remember the new life that had\nbegun at the Rectangle. The regular election of city officers was\nnear at hand. The question of license would be an issue in the\nelection. What of the poor creatures surrounded by the hell of drink\nwhile just beginning to feel the joy of deliverance from sin? Who\ncould tell what depended on their environment? Was there one word to\nbe said by the Christian disciple, business man, citizen, in favor\nof continuing the license to crime and shame-producing institutions?\nWas not the most Christian thing they could do to act as citizens in\nthe matter, fight the saloon at the polls, elect good men to the\ncity offices, and clean the municipality? How much had prayers\nhelped to make Raymond better while votes and actions had really\nbeen on the side of the enemies of Jesus? Would not Jesus do this?\nWhat disciple could imagine Him refusing to suffer or to take up His\ncross in this matter? How much had the members of the First Church\never suffered in an attempt to imitate Jesus? Was Christian\ndiscipleship a thing of conscience simply, of custom, of tradition?\nWhere did the suffering come in? Was it necessary in order to follow\nJesus' steps to go up Calvary as well as the Mount of\nTransfiguration?\n\nHis appeal was stronger at this point than he knew. It is not too\nmuch to say that the spiritual tension of the people reached its\nhighest point right there. The imitation of Jesus which had begun\nwith the volunteers in the church was working like leaven in the\norganization, and Henry Maxwell would even thus early in his life\nhave been amazed if he could have measured the extent of desire on\nthe part of his people to take up the cross. While he was speaking\nthis morning, before he closed with a loving appeal to the\ndiscipleship of two thousand years' knowledge of the Master, many a\nman and woman in the church was saying as Rachel had said so\npassionately to her mother: \"I want to do something that will cost\nme something in the way of sacrifice.\" \"I am hungry to suffer\nsomething.\" Truly, Mazzini was right when he said that no appeal is\nquite so powerful in the end as the call: \"Come and suffer.\"\n\nThe service was over, the great audience had gone, and Maxwell again\nfaced the company gathered in the lecture room as on the two\nprevious Sundays. He had asked all to remain who had made the pledge\nof discipleship, and any others who wished to be included. The after\nservice seemed now to be a necessity. As he went in and faced the\npeople there his heart trembled. There were at least one hundred\npresent. The Holy Spirit was never before so manifest. He missed\nJasper Chase. But all the others were present. He asked Milton\nWright to pray. The very air was charged with divine possibilities.\nWhat could resist such a baptism of power? How had they lived all\nthese years without it?\n\nThey counseled together and there were many prayers. Henry Maxwell\ndated from that meeting some of the serious events that afterward\nbecame a part of the history of the First Church and of Raymond. When\nfinally they went home, all of them were impressed with the glory of\nthe Spirit's power.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Eleven\n\n\nDONALD MARSH, President of Lincoln College, walked home with Mr.\nMaxwell.\n\n\"I have reached one conclusion, Maxwell,\" said Marsh, speaking\nslowly. \"I have found my cross and it is a heavy one, but I shall\nnever be satisfied until I take it up and carry it.\" Maxwell was\nsilent and the President went on.\n\n\"Your sermon today made clear to me what I have long been feeling I\nought to do. 'What would Jesus do in my place?' I have asked the\nquestion repeatedly since I made my promise. I have tried to satisfy\nmyself that He would simply go on as I have done, attending to the\nduties of my college work, teaching the classes in Ethics and\nPhilosophy. But I have not been able to avoid the feeling that He\nwould do something more. That something is what I do not want to do.\nIt will cause me genuine suffering to do it. I dread it with all my\nsoul. You may be able to guess what it is.\"\n\n\"Yes, I think I know. It is my cross too. I would almost rather do\nany thing else.\"\n\nDonald Marsh looked surprised, then relieved. Then he spoke sadly\nbut with great conviction: \"Maxwell, you and I belong to a class of\nprofessional men who have always avoided the duties of citizenship.\nWe have lived in a little world of literature and scholarly\nseclusion, doing work we have enjoyed and shrinking from the\ndisagreeable duties that belong to the life of the citizen. I\nconfess with shame that I have purposely avoided the responsibility\nthat I owe to this city personally. I understand that our city\nofficials are a corrupt, unprincipled set of men, controlled in\nlarge part by the whiskey element and thoroughly selfish so far as\nthe affairs of city government are concerned. Yet all these years I,\nwith nearly every teacher in the college, have been satisfied to let\nother men run the municipality and have lived in a little world of\nmy own, out of touch and sympathy with the real world of the people.\n'What would Jesus do?' I have even tried to avoid an honest answer.\nI can no longer do so. My plain duty is to take a personal part in\nthis coming election, go to the primaries, throw the weight of my\ninfluence, whatever it is, toward the nomination and election of\ngood men, and plunge into the very depths of the entire horrible\nwhirlpool of deceit, bribery, political trickery and saloonism as it\nexists in Raymond today. I would sooner walk up to the mouth of a\ncannon any time than do this. I dread it because I hate the touch of\nthe whole matter. I would give almost any thing to be able to say,\n'I do not believe Jesus would do anything of the sort.' But I am\nmore and more persuaded that He would. This is where the suffering\ncomes for me. It would not hurt me half so much to lose my position\nor my home. I loathe the contact with this municipal problem. I\nwould so much prefer to remain quietly in my scholastic life with my\nclasses in Ethics and Philosophy. But the call has come to me so\nplainly that I cannot escape. 'Donald Marsh, follow me. Do your duty\nas a citizen of Raymond at the point where your citizenship will\ncost you something. Help to cleanse this municipal stable, even if\nyou do have to soil your aristocratic feelings a little.' Maxwell,\nthis is my cross, I must take it up or deny my Lord.\"\n\n\"You have spoken for me also,\" replied Maxwell with a sad smile.\n\"Why should I, simply because I am a minister, shelter myself behind\nmy refined, sensitive feelings, and like a coward refuse to touch,\nexcept in a sermon possibly, the duty of citizenship? I am unused to\nthe ways of the political life of the city. I have never taken an\nactive part in any nomination of good men. There are hundreds of\nministers like me. As a class we do not practice in the municipal\nlife the duties and privileges we preach from the pulpit. 'What\nwould Jesus do?' I am now at a point where, like you, I am driven to\nanswer the question one way. My duty is plain. I must suffer. All my\nparish work, all my little trials or self-sacrifices are as nothing\nto me compared with the breaking into my scholarly, intellectual,\nself-contained habits, of this open, coarse, public fight for a\nclean city life. I could go and live at the Rectangle the rest of my\nlife and work in the slums for a bare living, and I could enjoy it\nmore than the thought of plunging into a fight for the reform of\nthis whiskey-ridden city. It would cost me less. But, like you, I\nhave been unable to shake off my responsibility. The answer to the\nquestion 'What would Jesus do?' in this case leaves me no peace\nexcept when I say, Jesus would have me act the part of a Christian\ncitizen. Marsh, as you say, we professional men, ministers,\nprofessors, artists, literary men, scholars, have almost invariably\nbeen political cowards. We have avoided the sacred duties of\ncitizenship either ignorantly or selfishly. Certainly Jesus in our\nage would not do that. We can do no less than take up this cross,\nand follow Him.\"\n\nThe two men walked on in silence for a while. Finally President\nMarsh said: \"We do not need to act alone in this matter. With all\nthe men who have made the promise we certainly can have\ncompanionship, and strength even, of numbers. Let us organize the\nChristian forces of Raymond for the battle against rum and\ncorruption. We certainly ought to enter the primaries with a force\nthat will be able to do more than enter a protest. It is a fact that\nthe saloon element is cowardly and easily frightened in spite of its\nlawlessness and corruption. Let us plan a campaign that will mean\nsomething because it is organized righteousness. Jesus would use\ngreat wisdom in this matter. He would employ means. He would make\nlarge plans. Let us do so. If we bear this cross let us do it\nbravely, like men.\"\n\nThey talked over the matter a long time and met again the next day\nin Maxwell's study to develop plans. The city primaries were called\nfor Friday. Rumors of strange and unknown events to the average\ncitizen were current that week in political circles throughout\nRaymond. The Crawford system of balloting for nominations was not in\nuse in the state, and the primary was called for a public meeting at\nthe court house.\n\nThe citizens of Raymond will never forget that meeting. It was so\nunlike any political meeting ever held in Raymond before, that there\nwas no attempt at comparison. The special officers to be nominated\nwere mayor, city council, chief of police, city clerk and city\ntreasurer.\n\nThe evening NEWS in its Saturday edition gave a full account of the\nprimaries, and in the editorial columns Edward Norman spoke with a\ndirectness and conviction that the Christian people of Raymond were\nlearning to respect deeply, because it was so evidently sincere and\nunselfish. A part of that editorial is also a part of this history.\nWe quote the following:\n\n\"It is safe to say that never before in the history of Raymond was\nthere a primary like the one in the court house last night. It was,\nfirst of all, a complete surprise to the city politicians who have\nbeen in the habit of carrying on the affairs of the city as if they\nowned them, and every one else was simply a tool or a cipher. The\noverwhelming surprise of the wire pullers last night consisted in\nthe fact that a large number of the citizens of Raymond who have\nheretofore taken no part in the city's affairs, entered the primary\nand controlled it, nominating some of the best men for all the\noffices to be filled at the coming election.\n\n\"It was a tremendous lesson in good citizenship. President Marsh of\nLincoln College, who never before entered a city primary, and whose\nface was not even known to the ward politicians, made one of the\nbest speeches ever made in Raymond. It was almost ludicrous to see\nthe faces of the men who for years have done as they pleased, when\nPresident Marsh rose to speak. Many of them asked, 'Who is he?' The\nconsternation deepened as the primary proceeded and it became\nevident that the oldtime ring of city rulers was outnumbered. Rev.\nHenry Maxwell of the First Church, Milton Wright, Alexander Powers,\nProfessors Brown, Willard and Park of Lincoln College, Dr. West,\nRev. George Main of the Pilgrim Church, Dean Ward of the Holy\nTrinity, and scores of well-known business men and professional men,\nmost of them church members, were present, and it did not take long\nto see that they had all come with the one direct and definite\npurpose of nominating the best men possible. Most of those men had\nnever before been seen in a primary. They were complete strangers to\nthe politicians. But they had evidently profited by the politician's\nmethods and were able by organized and united effort to nominate the\nentire ticket.\n\n\"As soon as it became plain that the primary was out of their\ncontrol the regular ring withdrew in disgust and nominated another\nticket. The NEWS simply calls the attention of all decent citizens\nto the fact that this last ticket contains the names of whiskey men,\nand the line is sharply and distinctly drawn between the saloon and\ncorrupt management such as we have known for years, and a clean,\nhonest, capable, business-like city administration, such as every\ngood citizen ought to want. It is not necessary to remind the people\nof Raymond that the question of local option comes up at the\nelection. That will be the most important question on the ticket.\nThe crisis of our city affairs has been reached. The issue is\nsquarely before us. Shall we continue the rule of rum and boodle and\nshameless incompetency, or shall we, as President Marsh said in his\nnoble speech, rise as good citizens and begin a new order of things,\ncleansing our city of the worst enemy known to municipal honesty,\nand doing what lies in our power to do with the ballot to purify our\ncivic life?\n\n\"The NEWS is positively and without reservation on the side of the\nnew movement. We shall henceforth do all in our power to drive out\nthe saloon and destroy its political strength. We shall advocate the\nelection of the men nominated by the majority of citizens met in the\nfirst primary and we call upon all Christians, church members,\nlovers of right, purity, temperance, and the home, to stand by\nPresident Marsh and the rest of the citizens who have thus begun a\nlong-needed reform in our city.\"\n\nPresident Marsh read this editorial and thanked God for Edward\nNorman. At the same time he understood well enough that every other\npaper in Raymond was on the other side. He did not underestimate the\nimportance and seriousness of the fight which was only just begun.\nIt was no secret that the NEWS had lost enormously since it had been\ngoverned by the standard of \"What would Jesus do?\" And the question\nwas, Would the Christian people of Raymond stand by it? Would they\nmake it possible for Norman to conduct a daily Christian paper? Or\nwould the desire for what is called news in the way of crime,\nscandal, political partisanship of the regular sort, and a dislike\nto champion so remarkable a reform in journalism, influence them to\ndrop the paper and refuse to give it their financial support? That\nwas, in fact, the question Edward Norman was asking even while he\nwrote that Saturday editorial. He knew well enough that his actions\nexpressed in that editorial would cost him very heavily from the\nhands of many business men in Raymond. And still, as he drove his\npen over the paper, he asked another question, \"What would Jesus\ndo?\" That question had become a part of this whole life now. It was\ngreater than any other.\n\nBut for the first time in its history Raymond had seen the\nprofessional men, the teachers, the college professors, the doctors,\nthe ministers, take political action and put themselves definitely\nand sharply in public antagonism to the evil forces that had so long\ncontrolled the machine of municipal government. The fact itself was\nastounding. President Marsh acknowledged to himself with a feeling\nof humiliation, that never before had he known what civic\nrighteousness could accomplish. From that Friday night's work he\ndated for himself and his college a new definition of the worn\nphrase \"the scholar in politics.\" Education for him and those who\nwere under his influence ever after meant some element of suffering.\nSacrifice must now enter into the factor of development.\n\nAt the Rectangle that week the tide of spiritual life rose high, and\nas yet showed no signs of flowing back. Rachel and Virginia went\nevery night. Virginia was rapidly reaching a conclusion with respect\nto a large part of her money. She had talked it over with Rachel and\nthey had been able to agree that if Jesus had a vast amount of money\nat His disposal He might do with some of it as Virginia planned. At\nany rate they felt that whatever He might do in such case would have\nas large an element of variety in it as the differences in persons\nand circumstances. There could be no one fixed Christian way of\nusing money. The rule that regulated its use was unselfish utility.\n\nBut meanwhile the glory of the Spirit's power possessed all their\nbest thought. Night after night that week witnessed miracles as\ngreat as walking on the sea or feeding the multitude with a few\nloaves and fishes. For what greater miracle is there than a\nregenerate humanity? The transformation of these coarse, brutal,\nsottish lives into praying, rapturous lovers of Christ, struck\nRachel and Virginia every time with the feeling that people may have\nhad when they saw Lazarus walk out of the tomb. It was an experience\nfull of profound excitement for them.\n\nRollin Page came to all the meetings. There was no doubt of the\nchange that had come over him. Rachel had not yet spoken much with\nhim. He was wonderfully quiet. It seemed as if he was thinking all\nthe time. Certainly he was not the same person. He talked more with\nGray than with any one else. He did not avoid Rachel, but he seemed\nto shrink from any appearance of seeming to renew the acquaintance\nwith her. Rachel found it even difficult to express to him her\npleasure at the new life he had begun to know. He seemed to be\nwaiting to adjust himself to his previous relations before this new\nlife began. He had not forgotten those relations. But he was not yet\nable to fit his consciousness into new ones.\n\nThe end of the week found the Rectangle struggling hard between two\nmighty opposing forces. The Holy Spirit was battling with all His\nsupernatural strength against the saloon devil which had so long\nheld a jealous grasp on its slaves. If the Christian people of\nRaymond once could realize what the contest meant to the souls newly\nawakened to a purer life it did not seem possible that the election\ncould result in the old system of license. But that remained yet to\nbe seen. The horror of the daily surroundings of many of the\nconverts was slowly burning its way into the knowledge of Virginia\nand Rachel, and every night as they went uptown to their luxurious\nhomes they carried heavy hearts.\n\n\"A good many of these poor creatures will go back again,\" Gray would\nsay with sadness too deep for tears. \"The environment does have a\ngood deal to do with the character. It does not stand to reason that\nthese people can always resist the sight and smell of the devilish\ndrink about them. O Lord, how long shall Christian people continue\nto support by their silence and their ballots the greatest form of\nslavery known in America?\"\n\nHe asked the question, and did not have much hope of an immediate\nanswer. There was a ray of hope in the action of Friday night's\nprimary, but what the result would be he did not dare to anticipate.\nThe whiskey forces were organized, alert, aggressive, roused into\nunusual hatred by the events of the last week at the tent and in the\ncity. Would the Christian forces act as a unit against the saloon?\nOr would they be divided on account of their business interests or\nbecause they were not in the habit of acting all together as the\nwhiskey power always did? That remained to be seen. Meanwhile the\nsaloon reared itself about the Rectangle like some deadly viper\nhissing and coiling, ready to strike its poison into any unguarded\npart.\n\nSaturday afternoon as Virginia was just stepping out of her house to\ngo and see Rachel to talk over her new plans, a carriage drove up\ncontaining three of her fashionable friends. Virginia went out to\nthe drive-way and stood there talking with them. They had not come\nto make a formal call but wanted Virginia to go driving with them up\non the boulevard. There was a band concert in the park. The day was\ntoo pleasant to be spent indoors.\n\n\"Where have you been all this time, Virginia?\" asked one of the\ngirls, tapping her playfully on the shoulder with a red silk\nparasol. \"We hear that you have gone into the show business. Tell us\nabout it.\"\n\nVirginia colored, but after a moment's hesitation she frankly told\nsomething of her experience at the Rectangle. The girls in the\ncarriage began to be really interested.\n\n\"I tell you, girls, let's go 'slumming' with Virginia this afternoon\ninstead of going to the band concert. I've never been down to the\nRectangle. I've heard it's an awful wicked place and lots to see.\nVirginia will act as guide, and it would be\"--\"real fun\" she was\ngoing to say, but Virginia's look made her substitute the word\n\"interesting.\"\n\nVirginia was angry. At first thought she said to herself she would\nnever go under such circumstances. The other girls seemed to be of\nthe same mind with the speaker. They chimed in with earnestness and\nasked Virginia to take them down there.\n\nSuddenly she saw in the idle curiosity of the girls an opportunity.\nThey had never seen the sin and misery of Raymond. Why should they\nnot see it, even if their motive in going down there was simply to\npass away an afternoon.\n\n\"Very well, I'll go with you. You must obey my orders and let me take\nyou where you can see the most,\" she said, as she entered the carriage\nand took the seat beside the girl who had first suggested the trip to\nthe Rectangle.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twelve\n\n\n\"For I come to set a man at variance against his father, and the\ndaughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her\nmother-in-law; and a man's foes shall be they of his own household.\"\n\n\"Be ye therefore imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in\nlove, even as Christ also loved you.\"\n\n\n\"HADN'T we better take a policeman along?\" said one of the girls\nwith a nervous laugh. \"It really isn't safe down there, you know.\"\n\n\"There's no danger,\" said Virginia briefly.\n\n\"Is it true that your brother Rollin has been converted?\" asked the\nfirst speaker, looking at Virginia curiously. It impressed her\nduring the drive to the Rectangle that all three of her friends were\nregarding her with close attention as if she were peculiar.\n\n\"Yes, he certainly is.\"\n\n\"I understand he is going around to the clubs talking with his old\nfriends there, trying to preach to them. Doesn't that seem funny?\"\nsaid the girl with the red silk parasol.\n\nVirginia did not answer, and the other girls were beginning to feel\nsober as the carriage turned into a street leading to the Rectangle.\nAs they neared the district they grew more and more nervous. The\nsights and smells and sounds which had become familiar to Virginia\nstruck the senses of these refined, delicate society girls as\nsomething horrible. As they entered farther into the district, the\nRectangle seemed to stare as with one great, bleary, beer-soaked\ncountenance at this fine carriage with its load of fashionably\ndressed young women. \"Slumming\" had never been a fad with Raymond\nsociety, and this was perhaps the first time that the two had come\ntogether in this way. The girls felt that instead of seeing the\nRectangle they were being made the objects of curiosity. They were\nfrightened and disgusted.\n\n\"Let's go back. I've seen enough,\" said the girl who was sitting\nwith Virginia.\n\nThey were at that moment just opposite a notorious saloon and\ngambling house. The street was narrow and the sidewalk crowded.\nSuddenly, out of the door of this saloon a young woman reeled. She\nwas singing in a broken, drunken sob that seemed to indicate that\nshe partly realized her awful condition, \"Just as I am, without one\nplea\"--and as the carriage rolled past she leered at it, raising her\nface so that Virginia saw it very close to her own. It was the face\nof the girl who had kneeled sobbing, that night with Virginia\nkneeling beside her and praying for her.\n\n\"Stop!\" cried Virginia, motioning to the driver who was looking\naround. The carriage stopped, and in a moment she was out and had\ngone up to the girl and taken her by the arm. \"Loreen!\" she said,\nand that was all. The girl looked into her face, and her own changed\ninto a look of utter horror. The girls in the carriage were smitten\ninto helpless astonishment. The saloon-keeper had come to the door\nof the saloon and was standing there looking on with his hands on\nhis hips. And the Rectangle from its windows, its saloon steps, its\nfilthy sidewalk, gutter and roadway, paused, and with undisguised\nwonder stared at the two girls. Over the scene the warm sun of\nspring poured its mellow light. A faint breath of music from the\nband-stand in the park floated into the Rectangle. The concert had\nbegun, and the fashion and wealth of Raymond were displaying\nthemselves up town on the boulevard.\n\nWhen Virginia left the carriage and went up to Loreen she had no\ndefinite idea as to what she would do or what the result of her\naction would be. She simply saw a soul that had tasted of the joy of\na better life slipping back again into its old hell of shame and\ndeath. And before she had touched the drunken girl's arm she had\nasked only one question, \"What would Jesus do?\" That question was\nbecoming with her, as with many others, a habit of life.\n\nShe looked around now as she stood close by Loreen, and the whole\nscene was cruelly vivid to her. She thought first of the girls in\nthe carriage.\n\n\"Drive on; don't wait for me. I am going to see my friend home,\" she\nsaid calmly enough.\n\nThe girl with the red parasol seemed to gasp at the word \"friend,\"\nwhen Virginia spoke it. She did not say anything.\n\nThe other girls seemed speechless.\n\n\"Go on. I cannot go back with you,\" said Virginia. The driver\nstarted the horses slowly. One of the girls leaned a little out of\nthe carriage.\n\n\"Can't we--that is--do you want our help? Couldn't you--\"\n\n\"No, no!\" exclaimed Virginia. \"You cannot be of any help to me.\"\n\nThe carriage moved on and Virginia was alone with her charge. She\nlooked up and around. Many faces in the crowd were sympathetic. They\nwere not all cruel or brutal. The Holy Spirit had softened a good\ndeal of the Rectangle.\n\n\"Where does she live?\" asked Virginia.\n\nNo one answered. It occurred to Virginia afterward when she had time\nto think it over, that the Rectangle showed a delicacy in its sad\nsilence that would have done credit to the boulevard. For the first\ntime it flashed across her that the immortal being who was flung\nlike wreckage upon the shore of this early hell called the saloon,\nhad no place that could be called home. The girl suddenly wrenched\nher arm from Virginia's grasp. In doing so she nearly threw Virginia\ndown.\n\n\"You shall not touch me! Leave me! Let me go to hell! That's where I\nbelong! The devil is waiting for me. See him!\" she exclaimed\nhoarsely. She turned and pointed with a shaking finger at the\nsaloon-keeper. The crowd laughed. Virginia stepped up to her and put\nher arm about her.\n\n\"Loreen,\" she said firmly, \"come with me. You do not belong to hell.\nYou belong to Jesus and He will save you. Come.\"\n\nThe girl suddenly burst into tears. She was only partly sobered by\nthe shock of meeting Virginia.\n\nVirginia looked around again. \"Where does Mr. Gray live?\" she asked.\nShe knew that the evangelist boarded somewhere near the tent. A\nnumber of voices gave the direction.\n\n\"Come, Loreen, I want you to go with me to Mr. Gray's,\" she said,\nstill keeping her hold of the swaying, trembling creature who moaned\nand sobbed and now clung to her as firmly as before she had repulsed\nher.\n\nSo the two moved on through the Rectangle toward the evangelist's\nlodging place. The sight seemed to impress the Rectangle seriously.\nIt never took itself seriously when it was drunk, but this was\ndifferent. The fact that one of the richest, most\nbeautifully-dressed girls in all Raymond was taking care of one of\nthe Rectangle's most noted characters, who reeled along under the\ninfluence of liquor, was a fact astounding enough to throw more or\nless dignity and importance about Loreen herself. The event of\nLoreen's stumbling through the gutter dead-drunk always made the\nRectangle laugh and jest. But Loreen staggering along with a young\nlady from the society circles uptown supporting her, was another\nthing. The Rectangle viewed it with soberness and more or less\nwondering admiration.\n\nWhen they finally reached Mr. Gray's lodging place the woman who\nanswered Virginia's knock said that both Mr. and Mrs. Gray were out\nsomewhere and would not be back until six o'clock.\n\nVirginia had not planned anything farther than a possible appeal to\nthe Grays, either to take charge of Loreen for a while or find some\nsafe place for her until she was sober. She stood now at the door\nafter the woman had spoken, and she was really at a loss to know\nwhat to do. Loreen sank down stupidly on the steps and buried her\nface in her arms. Virginia eyed the miserable figure of the girl\nwith a feeling that she was afraid would grow into disgust.\n\nFinally a thought possessed her that she could not escape. What was\nto hinder her from taking Loreen home with her? Why should not this\nhomeless, wretched creature, reeking with the fumes of liquor, be\ncared for in Virginia's own home instead of being consigned to\nstrangers in some hospital or house of charity? Virginia really knew\nvery little about any such places of refuge. As a matter of fact,\nthere were two or three such institutions in Raymond, but it is\ndoubtful if any of them would have taken a person like Loreen in her\npresent condition. But that was not the question with Virginia just\nnow. \"What would Jesus do with Loreen?\" That was what Virginia\nfaced, and she finally answered it by touching the girl again.\n\n\"Loreen, come. You are going home with me. We will take the car here\nat the corner.\"\n\nLoreen staggered to her feet and, to Virginia's surprise, made no\ntrouble. She had expected resistance or a stubborn refusal to move.\nWhen they reached the corner and took the car it was nearly full of\npeople going uptown. Virginia was painfully conscious of the stare\nthat greeted her and her companion as they entered. But her thought\nwas directed more and more to the approaching scene with her\ngrandmother. What would Madam Page say?\n\nLoreen was nearly sober now. But she was lapsing into a state of\nstupor. Virginia was obliged to hold fast to her arm. Several times\nthe girl lurched heavily against her, and as the two went up the\navenue a curious crowd of so-called civilized people turned and\ngazed at them. When she mounted the steps of her handsome house\nVirginia breathed a sigh of relief, even in the face of the\ninterview with the grandmother, and when the door shut and she was\nin the wide hall with her homeless outcast, she felt equal to\nanything that might now come.\n\nMadam Page was in the library. Hearing Virginia come in, she came\ninto the hall. Virginia stood there supporting Loreen, who stared\nstupidly at the rich magnificence of the furnishings around her.\n\n\"Grandmother,\" Virginia spoke without hesitation and very clearly,\n\"I have brought one of my friends from the Rectangle. She is in\ntrouble and has no home. I am going to care for her here a little\nwhile.\"\n\nMadam Page glanced from her granddaughter to Loreen in astonishment.\n\n\"Did you say she is one of your friends?\" she asked in a cold,\nsneering voice that hurt Virginia more than anything she had yet\nfelt.\n\n\"Yes, I said so.\" Virginia's face flushed, but she seemed to recall\na verse that Mr. Gray had used for one of his recent sermons, \"A\nfriend of publicans and sinners.\" Surely, Jesus would do this that\nshe was doing.\n\n\"Do you know what this girl is?\" asked Madam Page, in an angry\nwhisper, stepping near Virginia.\n\n\"I know very well. She is an outcast. You need not tell me,\ngrandmother. I know it even better than you do. She is drunk at this\nminute. But she is also a child of God. I have seen her on her\nknees, repentant. And I have seen hell reach out its horrible\nfingers after her again. And by the grace of Christ I feel that the\nleast that I can do is to rescue her from such peril. Grandmother,\nwe call ourselves Christians. Here is a poor, lost human creature\nwithout a home, slipping back into a life of misery and possibly\neternal loss, and we have more than enough. I have brought her here,\nand I shall keep her.\"\n\nMadam Page glared at Virginia and clenched her hands. All this was\ncontrary to her social code of conduct. How could society excuse\nfamiliarity with the scum of the streets? What would Virginia's\naction cost the family in the way of criticism and loss of standing,\nand all that long list of necessary relations which people of wealth\nand position must sustain to the leaders of society? To Madam Page\nsociety represented more than the church or any other institution.\nIt was a power to be feared and obeyed. The loss of its good-will\nwas a loss more to be dreaded than anything except the loss of\nwealth itself.\n\nShe stood erect and stern and confronted Virginia, fully roused and\ndetermined. Virginia placed her arm about Loreen and calmly looked\nher grandmother in the face.\n\n\"You shall not do this, Virginia! You can send her to the asylum for\nhelpless women. We can pay all the expenses. We cannot afford for\nthe sake of our reputations to shelter such a person.\"\n\n\"Grandmother, I do not wish to do anything that is displeasing to\nyou, but I must keep Loreen here tonight, and longer if it seems\nbest.\"\n\n\"Then you can answer for the consequences! I do not stay in the same\nhouse with a miserable--\" Madam Page lost her self-control. Virginia\nstopped her before she could speak the next word.\n\n\"Grandmother, this house is mine. It is your home with me as long as\nyou choose to remain. But in this matter I must act as I fully\nbelieve Jesus would in my place. I am willing to bear all that\nsociety may say or do. Society is not my God. By the side of this\npoor soul I do not count the verdict of society as of any value.\"\n\n\"I shall not stay here, then!\" said Madam Page. She turned suddenly\nand walked to the end of the hall. She then came back, and going up\nto Virginia said, with an emphasis that revealed her intensive\nexcitement of passion: \"You can always remember that you have driven\nyour grandmother out of your house in favor of a drunken woman;\"\nthen, without waiting for Virginia to reply, she turned again and\nwent upstairs. Virginia called a servant and soon had Loreen cared\nfor. She was fast lapsing into a wretched condition. During the\nbrief scene in the hall she had clung to Virginia so hard that her\narm was sore from the clutch of the girl's fingers.\n\nVirginia did not know whether her grandmother would leave the house or\nnot. She had abundant means of her own, was perfectly well and vigorous\nand capable of caring for herself. She had sisters and brothers living\nin the South and was in the habit of spending several weeks in the year\nwith them. Virginia was not anxious about her welfare as far as that\nwent. But the interview had been a painful one. Going over it, as she\ndid in her room before she went down to tea, she found little cause for\nregret. \"What would Jesus do?\" There was no question in her mind that\nshe had done the right thing. If she had made a mistake, it was one of\njudgment, not of heart.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Thirteen\n\n\nWHEN the bell rang for tea she went down and her grandmother did not\nappear. She sent a servant to her room who brought back word that\nMadam Page was not there. A few minutes later Rollin came in. He\nbrought word that his grandmother had taken the evening train for\nthe South. He had been at the station to see some friends off, and\nhad by chance met his grandmother as he was coming out. She had told\nhim her reason for going.\n\nVirginia and Rollin comforted each other at the tea table, looking\nat each other with earnest, sad faces.\n\n\"Rollin,\" said Virginia, and for the first time, almost, since his\nconversion she realized what a wonderful thing her brother's changed\nlife meant to her, \"do you blame me? Am I wrong?\"\n\n\"No, dear, I cannot believe you are. This is very painful for us.\nBut if you think this poor creature owes her safety and salvation to\nyour personal care, it was the only thing for you to do. O Virginia,\nto think that we have all these years enjoyed our beautiful home and\nall these luxuries selfishly, forgetful of the multitudes like this\nwoman! Surely Jesus in our places would do what you have done.\"\n\nAnd so Rollin comforted Virginia and counseled with her that\nevening. And of all the wonderful changes that she henceforth was to\nknow on account of her great pledge, nothing affected her so\npowerfully as the thought of Rollin's change of life. Truly, this\nman in Christ was a new creature. Old things were passed away.\nBehold, all things in him had become new.\n\nDr. West came that evening at Virginia's summons and did everything\nnecessary for the outcast. She had drunk herself almost into\ndelirium. The best that could be done for her now was quiet nursing\nand careful watching and personal love. So, in a beautiful room,\nwith a picture of Christ walking by the sea hanging on the wall,\nwhere her bewildered eyes caught daily something more of its hidden\nmeaning, Loreen lay, tossed she hardly knew how into this haven, and\nVirginia crept nearer the Master than she had ever been, as her\nheart went out towards this wreck which had thus been flung torn and\nbeaten at her feet.\n\nMeanwhile the Rectangle awaited the issue of the election with more\nthan usual interest; and Mr. Gray and his wife wept over the poor,\npitiful creatures who, after a struggle with surroundings that daily\ntempted them, too often wearied of the struggle and, like Loreen,\nthrew up their arms and went whirling over the cataract into the\nboiling abyss of their previous condition.\n\nThe after-meeting at the First Church was now eagerly established.\nHenry Maxwell went into the lecture-room on the Sunday succeeding\nthe week of the primary, and was greeted with an enthusiasm that\nmade him tremble at first for its reality. He noted again the\nabsence of Jasper Chase, but all the others were present, and they\nseemed drawn very close together by a bond of common fellowship that\ndemanded and enjoyed mutual confidences. It was the general feeling\nthat the spirit of Jesus was the spirit of very open, frank\nconfession of experience. It seemed the most natural thing in the\nworld, therefore, for Edward Norman to be telling all the rest of\nthe company about the details of his newspaper.\n\n\"The fact is, I have lost a great deal of money during the last\nthree weeks. I cannot tell just how much. I am losing a great many\nsubscribers every day.\"\n\n\"What do the subscribers give as their reason for dropping the\npaper?\" asked Mr. Maxwell. All the rest were listening eagerly.\n\n\"There are a good many different reasons. Some say they want a paper\nthat prints all the news; meaning, by that, the crime details,\nsensations like prize fights, scandals and horrors of various kinds.\nOthers object to the discontinuance of the Sunday edition. I have\nlost hundreds of subscribers by that action, although I have made\nsatisfactory arrangements with many of the old subscribers by giving\nthem even more in the extra Saturday edition than they formerly had\nin the Sunday issue. My greatest loss has come from a falling off in\nadvertisements, and from the attitude I have felt obliged to take on\npolitical questions. The last action has really cost me more than\nany other. The bulk of my subscribers are intensely partisan. I may\nas well tell you all frankly that if I continue to pursue the plan\nwhich I honestly believe Jesus would pursue in the matter of\npolitical issues and their treatment from a non-partisan and moral\nstandpoint, the NEWS will not be able to pay its operating expenses\nunless one factor in Raymond can be depended on.\"\n\nHe paused a moment and the room was very quiet. Virginia seemed\nspecially interested. Her face glowed with interest. It was like the\ninterest of a person who had been thinking hard of the same thing\nwhich Norman went on to mention.\n\n\"That one factor is the Christian element in Raymond. Say the NEWS\nhas lost heavily from the dropping off of people who do not care for\na Christian daily, and from others who simply look upon a newspaper\nas a purveyor of all sorts of material to amuse or interest them,\nare there enough genuine Christian people in Raymond who will rally\nto the support of a paper such as Jesus would probably edit? or are\nthe habits of the church people so firmly established in their\ndemand for the regular type of journalism that they will not take a\npaper unless it is stripped largely of the Christian and moral\npurpose? I may say in this fellowship gathering that owing to recent\ncomplications in my business affairs outside of my paper I have been\nobliged to lose a large part of my fortune. I had to apply the same\nrule of Jesus' probable conduct to certain transactions with other\nmen who did not apply it to their conduct, and the result has been\nthe loss of a great deal of money. As I understand the promise we\nmade, we were not to ask any question about 'Will it pay?' but all\nour action was to be based on the one question, 'What would Jesus\ndo?' Acting on that rule of conduct, I have been obliged to lose\nnearly all the money I have accumulated in my paper. It is not\nnecessary for me to go into details. There is no question with me\nnow, after the three weeks' experience I have had, that a great many\nmen would lose vast sums of money under the present system of\nbusiness if this rule of Jesus was honestly applied. I mention my\nloss here because I have the fullest faith in the final success of a\ndaily paper conducted on the lines I have recently laid down, and I\nhad planned to put into it my entire fortune in order to win final\nsuccess. As it is now, unless, as I said, the Christian people of\nRaymond, the church members and professing disciples, will support\nthe paper with subscriptions and advertisements, I cannot continue\nits publication on the present basis.\"\n\nVirginia asked a question. She had followed Mr. Norman's confession\nwith the most intense eagerness.\n\n\"Do you mean that a Christian daily ought to be endowed with a large\nsum like a Christian college in order to make it pay?\"\n\n\"That is exactly what I mean. I had laid out plans for putting into\nthe NEWS such a variety of material in such a strong and truly\ninteresting way that it would more than make up for whatever was\nabsent from its columns in the way of un-Christian matter. But my\nplans called for a very large output of money. I am very confident\nthat a Christian daily such as Jesus would approve, containing only\nwhat He would print, can be made to succeed financially if it is\nplanned on the right lines. But it will take a large sum of money to\nwork out the plans.\"\n\n\"How much, do you think?\" asked Virginia quietly.\n\nEdward Norman looked at her keenly, and his face flushed a moment as\nan idea of her purpose crossed his mind. He had known her when she\nwas a little girl in the Sunday-school, and he had been on intimate\nbusiness relations with her father.\n\n\"I should say half a million dollars in a town like Raymond could be\nwell spent in the establishment of a paper such as we have in mind,\"\nhe answered. His voice trembled a little. The keen look on his\ngrizzled face flashed out with a stern but thoroughly Christian\nanticipation of great achievements in the world of newspaper life,\nas it had opened up to him within the last few seconds.\n\n\"Then,\" said Virginia, speaking as if the thought was fully\nconsidered, \"I am ready to put that amount of money into the paper\non the one condition, of course, that it be carried on as it has\nbeen begun.\"\n\n\"Thank God!\" exclaimed Mr. Maxwell softly. Norman was pale. The rest\nwere looking at Virginia. She had more to say.\n\n\"Dear friends,\" she went on, and there was a sadness in her voice\nthat made an impression on the rest that deepened when they thought\nit over afterwards, \"I do not want any of you to credit me with an\nact of great generosity. I have come to know lately that the money\nwhich I have called my own is not mine, but God's. If I, as steward\nof His, see some wise way to invest His money, it is not an occasion\nfor vainglory or thanks from any one simply because I have proved in\nmy administration of the funds He has asked me to use for His glory.\nI have been thinking of this very plan for some time. The fact is,\ndear friends, that in our coming fight with the whiskey power in\nRaymond--and it has only just begun--we shall need the NEWS to\nchampion the Christian side. You all know that all the other papers\nare for the saloon. As long as the saloon exists, the work of\nrescuing dying souls at the Rectangle is carried on at a terrible\ndisadvantage. What can Mr. Gray do with his gospel meetings when\nhalf his converts are drinking people, daily tempted and enticed by\nthe saloon on every corner? It would be giving up to the enemy to\nallow the NEWS to fail. I have great confidence in Mr. Norman's\nability. I have not seen his plans, but I have the same confidence\nthat he has in making the paper succeed if it is carried forward on\na large enough scale. I cannot believe that Christian intelligence\nin journalism will be inferior to un-Christian intelligence, even\nwhen it comes to making the paper pay financially. So that is my\nreason for putting this money--God's, not mine--into this powerful\nagent for doing as Jesus would do. If we can keep such a paper going\nfor one year, I shall be willing to see that amount of money used in\nthat experiment. Do not thank me. Do not consider my doing it a\nwonderful thing. What have I done with God's money all these years\nbut gratify my own selfish personal desires? What can I do with the\nrest of it but try to make some reparation for what I have stolen\nfrom God? That is the way I look at it now. I believe it is what\nJesus would do.\"\n\nOver the lecture-room swept that unseen yet distinctly felt wave of\nDivine Presence. No one spoke for a while. Mr. Maxwell standing\nthere, where the faces lifted their intense gaze into his, felt what\nhe had already felt--a strange setting back out of the nineteenth\ncentury into the first, when the disciples had all things in common,\nand a spirit of fellowship must have flowed freely between them such\nas the First Church of Raymond had never before known. How much had\nhis church membership known of this fellowship in daily interests\nbefore this little company had begun to do as they believed Jesus\nwould do? It was with difficulty that he thought of his present age\nand surroundings. The same thought was present with all the rest,\nalso. There was an unspoken comradeship such as they had never\nknown. It was present with them while Virginia was speaking, and\nduring the silence that followed. If it had been defined by any of\nthem it would perhaps have taken some such shape as this: \"If I\nshall, in the course of my obedience to my promise, meet with loss\nor trouble in the world, I can depend upon the genuine, practical\nsympathy and fellowship of any other Christian in this room who has,\nwith me, made the pledge to do all things by the rule, 'What would\nJesus do?'\"\n\nAll this, the distinct wave of spiritual power emphasized. It had\nthe effect that a physical miracle may have had on the early\ndisciples in giving them a feeling of confidence in the Lord that\nhelped them to face loss and martyrdom with courage and even joy.\n\nBefore they went away this time there were several confidences like\nthose of Edward Norman's. Some of the young men told of loss of\nplaces owing to their honest obedience to their promise. Alexander\nPowers spoke briefly of the fact that the Commission had promised to\ntake action on his evidence at the earliest date possible.\n\nHe was engaged at his old work of telegraphy. It was a significant\nfact that, since his action in resigning his position, neither his\nwife nor daughter had appeared in public. No one but himself knew the\nbitterness of that family estrangement and misunderstanding, of the\nhigher motive. Yet many of the disciples present in the meeting carried\nsimilar burdens. These were things which they could not talk about.\nHenry Maxwell, from his knowledge of his people, could almost certainly\nknow that obedience to their pledge had produced in the heart of\nfamilies separation of sympathy and even the introduction of enmity and\nhatred. Truly, a man's foes are they of his own household when the rule\nof Jesus is obeyed by some and disobeyed by others. Jesus is a great\ndivider of life. One must walk parallel with Him or directly across His\nway.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Fourteen\n\n\nBUT more than any other feeling at this meeting rose the tide of\nfellowship for one another. Maxwell watched it, trembling for its\nclimax which he knew was not yet reached. When it was, where would\nit lead them? He did not know, but he was not unduly alarmed about\nit. Only he watched with growing wonder the results of that simple\npromise as it was being obeyed in these various lives. Those results\nwere already being felt all over the city. Who could measure their\ninfluence at the end of a year?\n\nOne practical form of this fellowship showed itself in the\nassurances which Edward Norman received of support for his paper.\nThere was a general flocking toward him when the meeting closed, and\nthe response to his appeal for help from the Christian disciples in\nRaymond was fully understood by this little company. The value of\nsuch a paper in the homes and in behalf of good citizenship,\nespecially at the present crisis in the city, could not be measured.\nIt remained to be seen what could be done now that the paper was\nendowed so liberally. But it still was true, as Norman insisted,\nthat money alone could not make the paper a power. It must receive\nthe support and sympathy of the Christians in Raymond before it\ncould be counted as one of the great forces of the city.\n\nThe week that followed this Sunday meeting was one of great\nexcitement in Raymond. It was the week of the election. President\nMarsh, true to his promise, took up his cross and bore it manfully,\nbut with shuddering, with groans and even tears, for his deepest\nconviction was touched, and he tore himself out of the scholarly\nseclusion of years with a pain and anguish that cost him more than\nanything he had ever done as a follower of Christ. With him were a\nfew of the college professors who had made the pledge in the First\nChurch. Their experience and suffering were the same as his; for\ntheir isolation from all the duties of citizenship had been the\nsame. The same was also true of Henry Maxwell, who plunged into the\nhorror of this fight against whiskey and its allies with a sickening\ndread of each day's new encounter with it. For never before had he\nborne such a cross. He staggered under it, and in the brief\nintervals when he came in from the work and sought the quiet of his\nstudy for rest, the sweat broke out on his forehead, and he felt the\nactual terror of one who marches into unseen, unknown horrors.\nLooking back on it afterwards he was amazed at his experience. He\nwas not a coward, but he felt the dread that any man of his habits\nfeels when confronted suddenly with a duty which carries with it the\ndoing of certain things so unfamiliar that the actual details\nconnected with it betray his ignorance and fill him with the shame\nof humiliation.\n\nWhen Saturday, the election day, came, the excitement rose to its\nheight. An attempt was made to close all the saloons. It was only\npartly successful. There was a great deal of drinking going on all\nday. The Rectangle boiled and heaved and cursed and turned its worst\nside out to the gaze of the city. Gray had continued his meetings\nduring the week, and the results had been even greater than he had\ndared to hope. When Saturday came, it seemed to him that the crisis\nin his work had been reached. The Holy Spirit and the Satan of rum\nseemed to rouse up to a desperate conflict. The more interest in the\nmeetings, the more ferocity and vileness outside. The saloon men no\nlonger concealed their feelings. Open threats of violence were made.\nOnce during the week Gray and his little company of helpers were\nassailed with missiles of various kinds as they left the tent late\nat night. The police sent down a special force, and Virginia and\nRachel were always under the protection of either Rollin or Dr.\nWest. Rachel's power in song had not diminished. Rather, with each\nnight, it seemed to add to the intensity and reality of the Spirit's\npresence.\n\nGray had at first hesitated about having a meeting that night. But\nhe had a simple rule of action, and was always guided by it. The\nSpirit seemed to lead him to continue the meeting, and so Saturday\nnight he went on as usual.\n\nThe excitement all over the city had reached its climax when the\npolls closed at six o'clock. Never before had there been such a\ncontest in Raymond. The issue of license or no-license had never\nbeen an issue under such circumstances. Never before had such\nelements in the city been arrayed against each other. It was an\nunheard-of thing that the President of Lincoln College, the pastor\nof the First Church, the Dean of the Cathedral, the professional men\nliving in fine houses on the boulevard, should come personally into\nthe wards, and by their presence and their example represent the\nChristian conscience of the place. The ward politicians were\nastonished at the sight. However, their astonishment did not prevent\ntheir activity. The fight grew hotter every hour, and when six\no'clock came neither side could have guessed at the result with any\ncertainty. Every one agreed that never before had there been such an\nelection in Raymond, and both sides awaited the announcement of the\nresult with the greatest interest.\n\nIt was after ten o'clock when the meeting at the tent was closed. It\nhad been a strange and, in some respects, a remarkable meeting.\nMaxwell had come down again at Gray's request. He was completely\nworn out by the day's work, but the appeal from Gray came to him in\nsuch a form that he did not feel able to resist it. President Marsh\nwas also present. He had never been to the Rectangle, and his\ncuriosity was aroused from what he had noticed of the influence of\nthe evangelist in the worst part of the city. Dr. West and Rollin\nhad come with Rachel and Virginia; and Loreen, who still stayed with\nVirginia, was present near the organ, in her right mind, sober, with\na humility and dread of herself that kept her as close to Virginia\nas a faithful dog. All through the service she sat with bowed head,\nweeping a part of the time, sobbing when Rachel sang the song, \"I\nwas a wandering sheep,\" clinging with almost visible, tangible\nyearning to the one hope she had found, listening to prayer and\nappeal and confession all about her like one who was a part of a new\ncreation, yet fearful of her right to share in it fully.\n\nThe tent had been crowded. As on some other occasions, there was\nmore or less disturbance on the outside. This had increased as the\nnight advanced, and Gray thought it wise not to prolong the service.\n\nOnce in a while a shout as from a large crowd swept into the tent.\nThe returns from the election were beginning to come in, and the\nRectangle had emptied every lodging house, den and hovel into the\nstreets.\n\nIn spite of these distractions Rachel's singing kept the crowd in\nthe tent from dissolving. There were a dozen or more conversions.\nFinally the people became restless and Gray closed the service,\nremaining a little while with the converts.\n\nRachel, Virginia, Loreen, Rollin and the Doctor, President Marsh,\nMr. Maxwell and Dr. West went out together, intending to go down to\nthe usual waiting place for their car. As they came out of the tent\nthey were at once aware that the Rectangle was trembling on the\nverge of a drunken riot, and as they pushed through the gathering\nmobs in the narrow streets they began to realize that they\nthemselves were objects of great attention.\n\n\"There he is--the bloke in the tall hat! He's the leader! shouted a\nrough voice. President Marsh, with his erect, commanding figure, was\nconspicuous in the little company.\n\n\"How has the election gone? It is too early to know the result yet,\nisn't it?\" He asked the question aloud, and a man answered:\n\n\"They say second and third wards have gone almost solid for\nno-license. If that is so, the whiskey men have been beaten.\"\n\n\"Thank God! I hope it is true!\" exclaimed Maxwell. \"Marsh, we are in\ndanger here. Do you realize our situation? We ought to get the\nladies to a place of safety.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said Marsh gravely. At that moment a shower of\nstones and other missiles fell over them. The narrow street and\nsidewalk in front of them was completely choked with the worst\nelements of the Rectangle.\n\n\"This looks serious,\" said Maxwell. With Marsh and Rollin and Dr.\nWest he started to go forward through a small opening, Virginia,\nRachel, and Loreen following close and sheltered by the men, who now\nrealized something of their danger. The Rectangle was drunk and\nenraged. It saw in Marsh and Maxwell two of the leaders in the\nelection contest which had perhaps robbed them of their beloved\nsaloon.\n\n\"Down with the aristocrats!\" shouted a shrill voice, more like a\nwoman's than a man's. A shower of mud and stones followed. Rachel\nremembered afterwards that Rollin jumped directly in front of her\nand received on his head and chest a number of blows that would\nprobably have struck her if he had not shielded her from them.\n\nAnd just then, before the police reached them, Loreen darted forward\nin front of Virginia and pushed her aside, looking up and screaming.\nIt was so sudden that no one had time to catch the face of the one\nwho did it. But out of the upper window of a room, over the very\nsaloon where Loreen had come out a week before, someone had thrown a\nheavy bottle. It struck Loreen on the head and she fell to the\nground. Virginia turned and instantly kneeled down by her. The\npolice officers by that time had reached the little company.\n\nPresident Marsh raised his arm and shouted over the howl that was\nbeginning to rise from the wild beast in the mob.\n\n\"Stop! You've killed a woman!\" The announcement partly sobered the\ncrowd.\n\n\"Is it true?\" Maxwell asked it, as Dr. West kneeled on the other\nside of Loreen, supporting her.\n\n\"She's dying!\" said Dr. West briefly.\n\nLoreen opened her eyes and smiled at Virginia, who wiped the blood\nfrom her face and then bent over and kissed her. Loreen smiled\nagain, and the next minute her soul was in Paradise.\n\nAnd yet this is only one woman out of thousands killed by this drink\nevil. Crowd back, now, ye sinful men and women in this filthy street!\nLet this august dead form be borne through your stupefied, sobered\nranks! She was one of your own children. The Rectangle had stamped\nthe image of the beast on her. Thank Him who died for sinners that\nthe other image of a new soul now shines out of her pale clay. Crowd\nback! Give them room! Let her pass reverently, followed and surrounded\nby the weeping, awestruck company of Christians. Ye killed her, ye\ndrunken murderers! And yet-\u2014and yet-\u2014O Christian America, who killed\nthis woman? Stand back! Silence, there! A woman has been killed. Who?\nLoreen. Child of the streets. Poor, drunken, vile sinner. O Lord God,\nhow long, how long? Yes. The saloon killed her; that is, the Christians\nof America, who license the saloon. And the Judgment Day only shall\ndeclare who was the murderer of Loreen.\n\n\n\nChapter Fifteen\n\n\n\"He that followeth me shall not walk in darkness.\"\n\n\nTHE body of Loreen lay in state at the Page mansion on the avenue.\nIt was Sunday morning and the clear sweet spring air, just beginning\nto breathe over the city the perfume of early blossoms in the woods\nand fields, swept over the casket from one of the open windows at\nthe end of the grand hall. The church bells were ringing and people\non the avenue going by to service turned curious, inquiring looks up\nat the great house and then went on, talking of the recent events\nwhich had so strangely entered into and made history in the city.\n\nAt the First Church, Mr. Maxwell, bearing on his face marks of the\nscene he had been through, confronted an immense congregation, and\nspoke to it with a passion and a power that came so naturally out of\nthe profound experiences of the day before that his people felt for\nhim something of the old feeling of pride they once had in his\ndramatic delivery. Only this was with a different attitude. And all\nthrough his impassioned appeal this morning, there was a note of\nsadness and rebuke and stern condemnation that made many of the\nmembers pale with self-accusation or with inward anger.\n\nFor Raymond had awakened that morning to the fact that the city had\ngone for license after all. The rumor at the Rectangle that the\nsecond and third wards had gone no-license proved to be false. It\nwas true that the victory was won by a very meager majority. But the\nresult was the same as if it had been overwhelming. Raymond had\nvoted to continue for another year the saloon. The Christians of\nRaymond stood condemned by the result. More than a hundred\nprofessing Christian disciples had failed to go to the polls, and\nmany more than that number had voted with the whiskey men. If all\nthe church members of Raymond had voted against the saloon, it would\ntoday be outlawed instead of crowned king of the municipality. For\nthat had been the fact in Raymond for years. The saloon ruled. No\none denied that. What would Jesus do? And this woman who had been\nbrutally struck down by the very hand that had assisted so eagerly\nto work her earthly ruin what of her? Was it anything more than the\nlogical sequence of the whole horrible system of license, that for\nanother year the very saloon that received her so often and\ncompassed her degradation, from whose very spot the weapon had been\nhurled that struck her dead, would, by the law which the Christian\npeople of Raymond voted to support, perhaps open its doors tomorrow\nand damn a hundred Loreens before the year had drawn to its bloody\nclose?\n\nAll this, with a voice that rang and trembled and broke in sobs of\nanguish for the result, did Henry Maxwell pour out upon his people\nthat Sunday morning. And men and women wept as he spoke. President\nMarsh sat there, his usual erect, handsome, firm, bright\nself-confident bearing all gone; his head bowed upon his breast, the\ngreat tears rolling down his cheeks, unmindful of the fact that\nnever before had he shown outward emotion in a public service.\nEdward Norman near by sat with his clear-cut, keen face erect, but\nhis lip trembled and he clutched the end of the pew with a feeling\nof emotion that struck deep into his knowledge of the truth as\nMaxwell spoke it. No man had given or suffered more to influence\npublic opinion that week than Norman. The thought that the Christian\nconscience had been aroused too late or too feebly, lay with a\nweight of accusation upon the heart of the editor. What if he had\nbegun to do as Jesus would have done, long ago? Who could tell what\nmight have been accomplished by this time! And up in the choir,\nRachel Winslow, with her face bowed on the railing of the oak\nscreen, gave way to a feeling which she had not allowed yet to\nmaster her, but it so unfitted her for her part that when Mr.\nMaxwell finished and she tried to sing the closing solo after the\nprayer, her voice broke, and for the first time in her life she was\nobliged to sit down, sobbing, and unable to go on.\n\nOver the church, in the silence that followed this strange scene,\nsobs and the noise of weeping arose. When had the First Church\nyielded to such a baptism of tears? What had become of its regular,\nprecise, conventional order of service, undisturbed by any vulgar\nemotion and unmoved by any foolish excitement? But the people had\nlately had their deepest convictions touched. They had been living\nso long on their surface feelings that they had almost forgotten the\ndeeper wells of life. Now that they had broken the surface, the\npeople were convicted of the meaning of their discipleship.\n\nMr. Maxwell did not ask, this morning, for volunteers to join those\nwho had already pledged to do as Jesus would. But when the\ncongregation had finally gone, and he had entered the lecture-room,\nit needed but a glance to show him that the original company of\nfollowers had been largely increased. The meeting was tender; it\nglowed with the Spirit's presence; it was alive with strong and\nlasting resolve to begin a war on the whiskey power in Raymond that\nwould break its reign forever. Since the first Sunday when the first\ncompany of volunteers had pledged themselves to do as Jesus would\ndo, the different meetings had been characterized by distinct\nimpulses or impressions. Today, the entire force of the gathering\nseemed to be directed to this one large purpose. It was a meeting\nfull of broken prayers of contrition, of confession, of strong\nyearning for a new and better city life. And all through it ran one\ngeneral cry for deliverance from the saloon and its awful curse.\n\nBut if the First Church was deeply stirred by the events of the last\nweek, the Rectangle also felt moved strangely in its own way. The\ndeath of Loreen was not in itself so remarkable a fact. It was her\nrecent acquaintance with the people from the city that lifted her\ninto special prominence and surrounded her death with more than\nordinary importance. Every one in the Rectangle knew that Loreen was\nat this moment lying in the Page mansion up on the avenue.\nExaggerated reports of the magnificence of the casket had already\nfurnished material for eager gossip. The Rectangle was excited to\nknow the details of the funeral. Would it be public? What did Miss\nPage intend to do? The Rectangle had never before mingled even in\nthis distant personal manner with the aristocracy on the boulevard.\nThe opportunities for doing so were not frequent. Gray and his wife\nwere besieged by inquirers who wanted to know what Loreen's friends\nand acquaintances were expected to do in paying their last respects\nto her. For her acquaintance was large and many of the recent\nconverts were among her friends.\n\nSo that is how it happened that Monday afternoon, at the tent, the\nfuneral service of Loreen was held before an immense audience that\nchoked the tent and overflowed beyond all previous bounds. Gray had\ngone up to Virginia's and, after talking it over with her and\nMaxwell, the arrangement had been made.\n\n\"I am and always have been opposed to large public funerals,\" said\nGray, whose complete wholesome simplicity of character was one of\nits great sources of strength; \"but the cry of the poor creatures\nwho knew Loreen is so earnest that I do not know how to refuse this\ndesire to see her and pay her poor body some last little honor. What\ndo you think, Mr. Maxwell? I will be guided by your judgment in the\nmatter. I am sure that whatever you and Miss Page think best, will\nbe right.\"\n\n\"I feel as you do,\" replied Mr. Maxwell. \"Under the circumstances I\nhave a great distaste for what seems like display at such times. But\nthis seems different. The people at the Rectangle will not come here\nto service. I think the most Christian thing will be to let them\nhave the service at the tent. Do you think so, Miss Virginia?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Virginia. \"Poor soul! I do not know but that some time I\nshall know she gave her life for mine. We certainly cannot and will\nnot use the occasion for vulgar display. Let her friends be allowed\nthe gratification of their wishes. I see no harm in it.\"\n\nSo the arrangements were made, with some difficulty, for the service\nat the tent; and Virginia with her uncle and Rollin, accompanied by\nMaxwell, Rachel and President Marsh, and the quartet from the First\nChurch, went down and witnessed one of the strange things of their\nlives.\n\nIt happened that that afternoon a somewhat noted newspaper\ncorrespondent was passing through Raymond on his way to an editorial\nconvention in a neighboring city. He heard of the contemplated\nservice at the tent and went down. His description of it was written\nin a graphic style that caught the attention of very many readers\nthe next day. A fragment of his account belongs to this part of the\nhistory of Raymond:\n\n\"There was a very unique and unusual funeral service held here this\nafternoon at the tent of an evangelist, Rev. John Gray, down in the\nslum district known as the Rectangle. The occasion was caused by the\nkilling of a woman during an election riot last Saturday night. It\nseems she had been recently converted during the evangelist's\nmeetings, and was killed while returning from one of the meetings in\ncompany with other converts and some of her friends. She was a\ncommon street drunkard, and yet the services at the tent were as\nimpressive as any I ever witnessed in a metropolitan church over the\nmost distinguished citizen.\n\n\"In the first place, a most exquisite anthem was sung by a trained\nchoir. It struck me, of course--being a stranger in the place--with\nconsiderable astonishment to hear voices like those one naturally\nexpects to hear only in great churches or concerts, at such a\nmeeting as this. But the most remarkable part of the music was a\nsolo sung by a strikingly beautiful young woman, a Miss Winslow who,\nif I remember right, is the young singer who was sought for by\nCrandall the manager of National Opera, and who for some reason\nrefused to accept his offer to go on the stage. She had a most\nwonderful manner in singing, and everybody was weeping before she\nhad sung a dozen words. That, of course, is not so strange an effect\nto be produced at a funeral service, but the voice itself was one of\nthousands. I understand Miss Winslow sings in the First Church of\nRaymond and could probably command almost any salary as a public\nsinger. She will probably be heard from soon. Such a voice could win\nits way anywhere.\n\n\"The service aside from the singing was peculiar. The evangelist, a\nman of apparently very simple, unassuming style, spoke a few words,\nand he was followed by a fine-looking man, the Rev. Henry Maxwell,\npastor of the First Church of Raymond. Mr. Maxwell spoke of the fact\nthat the dead woman had been fully prepared to go, but he spoke in a\npeculiarly sensitive manner of the effect of the liquor business on\nthe lives of men and women like this one. Raymond, of course, being\na railroad town and the centre of the great packing interests for\nthis region, is full of saloons. I caught from the minister's\nremarks that he had only recently changed his views in regard to\nlicense. He certainly made a very striking address, and yet it was\nin no sense inappropriate for a funeral.\n\n\"Then followed what was perhaps the queer part of this strange\nservice. The women in the tent, at least a large part of them up\nnear the coffin, began to sing in a soft, tearful way, 'I was a\nwandering sheep.' Then while the singing was going on, one row of\nwomen stood up and walked slowly past the casket, and as they went\nby, each one placed a flower of some kind upon it. Then they sat\ndown and another row filed past, leaving their flowers. All the time\nthe singing continued softly like rain on a tent cover when the wind\nis gentle. It was one of the simplest and at the same time one of\nthe most impressive sights I ever witnessed. The sides of the tent\nwere up, and hundreds of people who could not get in, stood outside,\nall as still as death itself, with wonderful sadness and solemnity\nfor such rough looking people. There must have been a hundred of\nthese women, and I was told many of them had been converted at the\nmeetings just recently. I cannot describe the effect of that\nsinging. Not a man sang a note. All women's voices, and so soft, and\nyet so distinct, that the effect was startling.\n\n\"The service closed with another solo by Miss Winslow, who sang,\n'There were ninety and nine.' And then the evangelist asked them all\nto bow their heads while he prayed. I was obliged in order to catch\nmy train to leave during the prayer, and the last view I caught of\nthe service as the train went by the shops was a sight of the great\ncrowd pouring out of the tent and forming in open ranks while the\ncoffin was borne out by six of the women. It is a long time since I\nhave seen such a picture in this unpoetic Republic.\"\n\nIf Loreen's funeral impressed a passing stranger like this, it is\nnot difficult to imagine the profound feelings of those who had been\nso intimately connected with her life and death. Nothing had ever\nentered the Rectangle that had moved it so deeply as Loreen's body\nin that coffin. And the Holy Spirit seemed to bless with special\npower the use of this senseless clay. For that night He swept more\nthan a score of lost souls, mostly women, into the fold of the Good\nShepherd.\n\nIt should be said here that Mr. Maxwell's statements concerning the\nopening of the saloon from whose windows Loreen had been killed;\nproved nearly exactly true. It was formally closed Monday and Tuesday\nwhile the authorities made arrests of the proprietors charged with\nthe murder. But nothing could be proved against any one, and before\nSaturday of that week the saloon was running as regularly as ever. No\none on the earth was ever punished by earthly courts for the murder of\nLoreen.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Sixteen\n\n\nNo one in all Raymond, including the Rectangle, felt Loreen's death\nmore keenly than Virginia. It came like a distinct personal loss to\nher. That short week while the girl had been in her home had opened\nVirginia's heart to a new life. She was talking it over with Rachel\nthe day after the funeral. Thee were sitting in the hall of the Page\nmansion.\n\n\"I am going to do something with my money to help those women to a\nbetter life.\" Virginia looked over to the end of the hall where, the\nday before, Loreen's body had lain. \"I have decided on a good plan,\nas it seems to me. I have talked it over with Rollin. He will devote\na large part of his money also to the same plan.\"\n\n\"How much money have you, Virginia, to give in this way?\" asked\nRachel. Once, she would never have asked such a personal question.\nNow, it seemed as natural to talk frankly about money as about\nanything else that belonged to God.\n\n\"I have available for use at least four hundred and fifty-thousand\ndollars. Rollin has as much more. It is one of his bitter regrets\nnow that his extravagant habits of life before his conversion\npractically threw away half that father left him. We are both eager\nto make all the reparation in our power. 'What would Jesus do with\nthis money?' We want to answer that question honestly and wisely.\nThe money I shall put into the NEWS is, I am confident, in a line\nwith His probable action. It is as necessary that we have a\nChristian daily paper in Raymond, especially now that we have the\nsaloon influence to meet, as it is to have a church or a college. So\nI am satisfied that the five hundred thousand dollars that Mr.\nNorman will know how to use so well will be a powerful factor in\nRaymond to do as Jesus would.\n\n\"About my other plan, Rachel, I want you to work with me. Rollin and\nI are going to buy up a large part of the property in the Rectangle.\nThe field where the tent now is, has been in litigation for years.\nWe mean to secure the entire tract as soon as the courts have\nsettled the title. For some time I have been making a special study\nof the various forms of college settlements and residence methods of\nChristian work and Institutional church work in the heart of great\ncity slums. I do not know that I have yet been able to tell just\nwhat is the wisest and most effective kind of work that can be done\nin Raymond. But I do know this much. My money--I mean God's, which\nhe wants me to use--can build wholesome lodging-houses, refuges for\npoor women, asylums for shop girls, safety for many and many a lost\ngirl like Loreen. And I do not want to be simply a dispenser of this\nmoney. God help me! I do want to put myself into the problem. But\nyou know, Rachel, I have a feeling all the time that all that\nlimitless money and limitless personal sacrifice can possibly do,\nwill not really lessen very much the awful condition at the\nRectangle as long as the saloon is legally established there. I\nthink that is true of any Christian work now being carried on in any\ngreat city. The saloon furnishes material to be saved faster than\nthe settlement or residence or rescue mission work can save it.\"\n\nVirginia suddenly rose and paced the hall. Rachel answered sadly,\nand yet with a note of hope in her voice:\n\n\"It is true. But, Virginia, what a wonderful amount of good can be\ndone with this money! And the saloon cannot always remain here. The\ntime must come when the Christian forces in the city will triumph.\"\n\nVirginia paused near Rachel, and her pale, earnest face lighted up.\n\n\"I believe that too. The number of those who have promised to do as\nJesus would is increasing. If we once have, say, five hundred such\ndisciples in Raymond, the saloon is doomed. But now, dear, I want\nyou to look at your part in this plan for capturing and saving the\nRectangle. Your voice is a power. I have had many ideas lately. Here\nis one of them. You could organize among the girls a Musical\nInstitute; give them the benefit of your training. There are some\nsplendid voices in the rough there. Did any one ever hear such\nsinging as that yesterday by those women? Rachel, what a beautiful\nopportunity! You shall have the best of material in the way of\norgans and orchestras that money can provide, and what cannot be\ndone with music to win souls there into higher and purer and better\nliving?\"\n\nBefore Virginia had ceased speaking Rachel's face was perfectly\ntransformed with the thought of her life work. It flowed into her\nheart and mind like a flood, and the torrent of her feeling\noverflowed in tears that could not be restrained. It was what she\nhad dreamed of doing herself. It represented to her something that\nshe felt was in keeping with a right use of her talent.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, as she rose and put her arm about Virginia, while\nboth girls in the excitement of their enthusiasm paced the hall.\n\"Yes, I will gladly put my life into that kind of service. I do\nbelieve that Jesus would have me use my life in this way. Virginia,\nwhat miracles can we not accomplish in humanity if we have such a\nlever as consecrated money to move things with!\"\n\n\"Add to it consecrated personal enthusiasm like yours, and it\ncertainly can accomplish great things,\" said Virginia smiling. And\nbefore Rachel could reply, Rollin came in.\n\nHe hesitated a moment, and then was passing out of the hall into the\nlibrary when Virginia called him back and asked some questions about\nhis work.\n\nRollin came back and sat down, and together the three discussed\ntheir future plans. Rollin was apparently entirely free from\nembarrassment in Rachel's presence while Virginia was with them,\nonly his manner with her was almost precise, if not cold. The past\nseemed to have been entirely absorbed in his wonderful conversion.\nHe had not forgotten it, but he seemed to be completely caught up\nfor this present time in the purpose of his new life. After a while\nRollin was called out, and Rachel and Virginia began to talk of\nother things.\n\n\"By the way, what has become of Jasper Chase?\" Virginia asked the\nquestion innocently, but Rachel flushed and Virginia added with a\nsmile, \"I suppose he is writing another book. Is he going to put you\ninto this one, Rachel? You know I always suspected Jasper Chase of\ndoing that very thing in his first story.\"\n\n\"Virginia,\" Rachel spoke with the frankness that had always existed\nbetween the two friends, \"Jasper Chase told me the other night that\nhe--in fact--he proposed to me--or he would, if--\"\n\nRachel stopped and sat with her hands clasped on her lap, and there\nwere tears in her eyes.\n\n\"Virginia, I thought a little while ago I loved him, as he said he\nloved me. But when he spoke, my heart felt repelled, and I said what\nI ought to say. I told him no. I have not seen him since. That was\nthe night of the first conversions at the Rectangle.\"\n\n\"I am glad for you,\" said Virginia quietly.\n\n\"Why?\" asked Rachel a little startled.\n\n\"Because, I have never really liked Jasper Chase. He is too cold\nand--I do not like to judge him, but I have always distrusted his\nsincerity in taking the pledge at the church with the rest.\"\n\nRachel looked at Virginia thoughtfully.\n\n\"I have never given my heart to him I am sure. He touched my\nemotions, and I admired his skill as a writer. I have thought at\ntimes that I cared a good deal for him. I think perhaps if he had\nspoken to me at any other time than the one he chose, I could easily\nhave persuaded myself that I loved him. But not now.\"\n\nAgain Rachel paused suddenly, and when she looked up at Virginia\nagain there were tears on her face. Virginia came to her and put her\narm about her tenderly.\n\nWhen Rachel had left the house, Virginia sat in the hall thinking\nover the confidence her friend had just shown her. There was\nsomething still to be told, Virginia felt sure from Rachel's manner,\nbut she did not feel hurt that Rachel had kept back something. She\nwas simply conscious of more on Rachel's mind than she had revealed.\n\nVery soon Rollin came back, and he and Virginia, arm in arm as they\nhad lately been in the habit of doing, walked up and down the long\nhall. It was easy for their talk to settle finally upon Rachel\nbecause of the place she was to occupy in the plans which were being\nmade for the purchase of property at the Rectangle.\n\n\"Did you ever know of a girl of such really gifted powers in vocal\nmusic who was willing to give her life to the people as Rachel is\ngoing to do? She is going to give music lessons in the city, have\nprivate pupils to make her living, and then give the people in the\nRectangle the benefit of her culture and her voice.\"\n\n\"It is certainly a very good example of self-sacrifice,\" replied\nRollin a little stiffly.\n\nVirginia looked at him a little sharply. \"But don't you think it is\na very unusual example? Can you imagine--\" here Virginia named half\na dozen famous opera singers--\"doing anything of this sort?\"\n\n\"No, I cannot,\" Rollin answered briefly. \"Neither can I imagine\nMiss--\" he spoke the name of the girl with the red parasol who had\nbegged Virginia to take the girls to the Rectangle--\"doing what you\nare doing, Virginia.\"\n\n\"Any more than I can imagine Mr.--\" Virginia spoke the name of a\nyoung society leader \"going about to the clubs doing your work,\nRollin.\" The two walked on in silence for the length of the hall.\n\n\"Coming back to Rachel,\" began Virginia, \"Rollin, why do you treat\nher with such a distinct, precise manner? I think, Rollin--pardon me\nif I hurt you--that she is annoyed by it. You need to be on easy\nterms. I don't think Rachel likes this change.\"\n\nRollin suddenly stopped. He seemed deeply agitated. He took his arm\nfrom Virginia's and walked alone to the end of the hall. Then he\nreturned, with his hands behind him, and stopped near his sister and\nsaid, \"Virginia, have you not learned my secret?\"\n\nVirginia looked bewildered, then over her face the unusual color\ncrept, showing that she understood.\n\n\"I have never loved any one but Rachel Winslow.\" Rollin spoke calmly\nenough now. \"That day she was here when you talked about her refusal\nto join the concert company, I asked her to be my wife; out there on\nthe avenue. She refused me, as I knew she would. And she gave as her\nreason the fact that I had no purpose in life, which was true\nenough. Now that I have a purpose, now that I am a new man, don't\nyou see, Virginia, how impossible it is for me to say anything? I\nowe my very conversion to Rachel's singing. And yet that night while\nshe sang I can honestly say that, for the time being, I never\nthought of her voice except as God's message. I believe that all my\npersonal love for her was for the time merged into a personal love\nto my God and my Saviour.\" Rollin was silent, then he went on with\nmore emotion. \"I still love her, Virginia. But I do not think she\never could love me.\" He stopped and looked his sister in the face\nwith a sad smile.\n\n\"I don't know about that,\" said Virginia to herself. She was noting\nRollin's handsome face, his marks of dissipation nearly all gone\nnow, the firm lips showing manhood and courage, the clear eyes\nlooking into hers frankly, the form strong and graceful. Rollin was\na man now. Why should not Rachel come to love him in time? Surely\nthe two were well fitted for each other, especially now that their\npurpose in life was moved by the same Christian force.\n\nShe said something of all this to Rollin, but he did not find much\ncomfort. When they closed the interview, Virginia carried away the\nimpression that Rollin meant to go his way with his chosen work, trying\nto reach the fashionable men at the clubs, and while not avoiding\nRachel, seeking no occasions for meeting her. He was distrustful of his\npower to control his feeling. And Virginia could see that he dreaded\neven the thought of a second refusal in case he did let Rachel know\nthat his love was still the same.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Seventeen\n\n\nTHE next day she went down to the NEWS office to see Edward Norman\nand arrange the details of her part in the establishment of the\npaper on its new foundation. Mr. Maxwell was present at this\nconference, and the three agreed that whatever Jesus would do in\ndetail as editor of a daily paper, He would be guided by the same\ngeneral principles that directed His conduct as the Saviour of the\nworld.\n\n\"I have tried to put down here in concrete form some of the things\nthat it has seemed to me Jesus would do,\" said Edward Norman. He\nread from a paper lying on his desk, and Maxwell was reminded again\nof his own effort to put into written form his own conception of\nJesus' probable action, and also of Milton Wright's same attempt in\nhis business.\n\n\"I have headed this, 'What would Jesus do as Edward Norman, editor\nof a daily newspaper in Raymond?'\n\n\"1. He would never allow a sentence or a picture in his paper that\ncould be called bad or coarse or impure in any way.\n\n\"2. He would probably conduct the political part of the paper from\nthe standpoint of non-partisan patriotism, always looking upon all\npolitical questions in the light of their relation to the Kingdom of\nGod, and advocating measures from the standpoint of their relation\nto the welfare of the people, always on the basis of 'What is\nright?' never on the basis of 'What is for the best interests of\nthis or that party?' In other words, He would treat all political\nquestions as he would treat every other subject, from the standpoint\nof the advancement of the Kingdom of God on earth.\"\n\nEdward Norman looked up from the reading a moment. \"You understand\nthat is my opinion of Jesus' probable action on political matters in\na daily paper. I am not passing judgment on other newspaper men who\nmay have a different conception of Jesus' probable action from mine.\nI am simply trying to answer honestly, 'What would Jesus do as\nEdward Norman?' And the answer I find is what I have put down.'\n\n\"3. The end and aim of a daily paper conducted by Jesus would be to\ndo the will of God. That is, His main purpose in carrying on a\nnewspaper would not be to make money, or gain political influence;\nbut His first and ruling purpose would be to so conduct his paper\nthat it would be evident to all his subscribers that He was trying\nto seek first the Kingdom of God by means of His paper. This purpose\nwould be as distinct and unquestioned as the purpose of a minister\nor a missionary or any unselfish martyr in Christian work anywhere.\n\n\"4. All questionable advertisements would be impossible.\n\n\"5. The relations of Jesus to the employees on the paper would be of\nthe most loving character.\"\n\n\"So far as I have gone,\" said Norman again looking up, \"I am of\nopinion that Jesus would employ practically some form of\nco-operation that would represent the idea of a mutual interest in a\nbusiness where all were to move together for the same great end. I\nam working out such a plan, and I am confident it will be\nsuccessful. At any rate, once introduce the element of personal love\ninto a business like this, take out the selfish principle of doing\nit for personal profits to a man or company, and I do not see any\nway except the most loving personal interest between editors,\nreporters, pressmen, and all who contribute anything to the life of\nthe paper. And that interest would be expressed not only in the\npersonal love and sympathy but in a sharing with the profits of the\nbusiness.\"\n\n\"6. As editor of a daily paper today, Jesus would give large space\nto the work of the Christian world. He would devote a page possibly\nto the facts of Reform, of sociological problems, of institutional\nchurch work and similar movements.\n\n\"7. He would do all in His power in His paper to fight the saloon as\nan enemy of the human race and an unnecessary part of our\ncivilization. He would do this regardless of public sentiment in the\nmatter and, of course, always regardless of its effect upon His\nsubscription list.\"\n\nAgain Edward Norman looked up. \"I state my honest conviction on this\npoint. Of course, I do not pass judgment on the Christian men who\nare editing other kinds of papers today. But as I interpret Jesus, I\nbelieve He would use the influence of His paper to remove the saloon\nentirely from the political and social life of the nation.\"\n\n\"8. Jesus would not issue a Sunday edition.\n\n\"9. He would print the news of the world that people ought to know.\nAmong the things they do not need to know, and which would not be\npublished, would be accounts of brutal prize-fights, long accounts\nof crimes, scandals in private families, or any other human events\nwhich in any way would conflict with the first point mentioned in\nthis outline.\n\n\"10. If Jesus had the amount of money to use on a paper which we\nhave, He would probably secure the best and strongest Christian men\nand women to co-operate with him in the matter of contributions.\nThat will be my purpose, as I shall be able to show you in a few\ndays.\n\n\"11. Whatever the details of the paper might demand as the paper\ndeveloped along its definite plan, the main principle that guided it\nwould always be the establishment of the Kingdom of God in the\nworld. This large general principle would necessarily shape all the\ndetail.\"\n\nEdward Norman finished reading the plan. He was very thoughtful.\n\n\"I have merely sketched a faint outline. I have a hundred ideas for\nmaking the paper powerful that I have not thought out fully as yet.\nThis is simply suggestive. I have talked it over with other\nnewspaper men. Some of them say I will have a weak, namby-pamby\nSunday-school sheet. If I get out something as good as a\nSunday-school it will be pretty good. Why do men, when they want to\ncharacterize something as particularly feeble, always use a\nSunday-school as a comparison, when they ought to know that the\nSunday-school is one of the strongest, most powerful influences in\nour civilization in this country today? But the paper will not\nnecessarily be weak because it is good. Good things are more\npowerful than bad. The question with me is largely one of support\nfrom the Christian people of Raymond. There are over twenty thousand\nchurch members here in this city. If half of them will stand by the\nNEWS its life is assured. What do you think, Maxwell, of the\nprobability of such support?\"\n\n\"I don't know enough about it to give an intelligent answer. I\nbelieve in the paper with all my heart. If it lives a year, as Miss\nVirginia said, there is no telling what it can do. The great thing\nwill be to issue such a paper, as near as we can judge, as Jesus\nprobably would, and put into it all the elements of Christian\nbrains, strength, intelligence and sense; and command respect for\nfreedom from bigotry, fanaticism, narrowness and anything else that\nis contrary to the spirit of Jesus. Such a paper will call for the\nbest that human thought and action is capable of giving. The\ngreatest minds in the world would have their powers taxed to the\nutmost to issue a Christian daily.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Edward Norman spoke humbly. \"I shall make a great many\nmistakes, no doubt. I need a great deal of wisdom. But I want to do\nas Jesus would. 'What would He do?' I have asked it, and shall\ncontinue to do so, and abide by the results.\"\n\n\"I think we are beginning to understand,\" said Virginia, \"the\nmeaning of that command, 'Grow in the grace and knowledge of our\nLord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' I am sure I do not know all that He\nwould do in detail until I know Him better.\"\n\n\"That is very true,\" said Henry Maxwell. \"I am beginning to\nunderstand that I cannot interpret the probable action of Jesus\nuntil I know better what His spirit is. The greatest question in all\nof human life is summed up when we ask, 'What would Jesus do?' if,\nas we ask it, we also try to answer it from a growth in knowledge of\nJesus himself. We must know Jesus before we can imitate Him.\"\n\nWhen the arrangement had been made between Virginia an Edward\nNorman, he found himself in possession of the sum of five hundred\nthousand dollars to use for the establishment of a Christian daily\npaper. When Virginia and Maxwell had gone, Norman closed his door\nand, alone with the Divine Presence, asked like a child for help\nfrom his all-powerful Father. All through his prayer as he kneeled\nbefore his desk ran the promise, \"If any man lack wisdom, let him\nask of God who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not, and\nit shall be given him.\" Surely his prayer would be answered, and the\nkingdom advanced through this instrument of God's power, this mighty\npress, which had become so largely degraded to the base uses of\nman's avarice and ambition.\n\nTwo months went by. They were full of action and of results in the\ncity of Raymond and especially in the First Church. In spite of the\napproaching heat of the summer season, the after-meeting of the\ndisciples who had made the pledge to do as Jesus would do, continued\nwith enthusiasm and power. Gray had finished his work at the\nRectangle, and an outward observer going through the place could not\nhave seen any difference in the old conditions, although there was\nan actual change in hundreds of lives. But the saloons, dens,\nhovels, gambling houses, still ran, overflowing their vileness into\nthe lives of fresh victims to take the place of those rescued by the\nevangelist. And the devil recruited his ranks very fast.\n\nHenry Maxwell did not go abroad. Instead of that, he took the money\nhe had been saving for the trip and quietly arranged for a summer\nvacation for a whole family living down in the Rectangle, who had\nnever gone outside of the foul district of the tenements. The pastor\nof the First Church will never forget the week he spent with this\nfamily making the arrangements. He went down into the Rectangle one\nhot day when something of the terrible heat in the horrible\ntenements was beginning to be felt, and helped the family to the\nstation, and then went with them to a beautiful spot on the coast\nwhere, in the home of a Christian woman, the bewildered city tenants\nbreathed for the first time in years the cool salt air, and felt\nblow about them the pine-scented fragrance of a new lease of life.\n\nThere was a sickly babe with the mother, and three other children,\none a cripple. The father, who had been out of work until he had\nbeen, as he afterwards confessed to Maxwell, several times on the\nedge of suicide, sat with the baby in his arms during the journey,\nand when Maxwell started back to Raymond, after seeing the family\nsettled, the man held his hand at parting, and choked with his\nutterance, and finally broke down, to Maxwell's great confusion. The\nmother, a wearied, worn-out woman who had lost three children the\nyear before from a fever scourge in the Rectangle, sat by the car\nwindow all the way and drank in the delights of sea and sky and\nfield. It all seemed a miracle to her. And Maxwell, coming back into\nRaymond at the end of that week, feeling the scorching, sickening\nheat all the more because of his little taste of the ocean breezes,\nthanked God for the joy he had witnessed, and entered upon his\ndiscipleship with a humble heart, knowing for almost the first time\nin his life this special kind of sacrifice. For never before had he\ndenied himself his regular summer trip away from the heat of\nRaymond, whether he felt in any great need of rest or not.\n\n\"It is a fact,\" he said in reply to several inquiries on the part of\nhis church, \"I do not feel in need of a vacation this year. I am\nvery well and prefer to stay here.\" It was with a feeling of relief\nthat he succeeded in concealing from every one but his wife what he\nhad done with this other family. He felt the need of doing anything\nof that sort without display or approval from others.\n\nSo the summer came on, and Maxwell grew into a large knowledge of\nhis Lord. The First Church was still swayed by the power of the\nSpirit. Maxwell marveled at the continuance of His stay. He knew\nvery well that from the beginning nothing but the Spirit's presence\nhad kept the church from being torn asunder by the remarkable\ntesting it had received of its discipleship. Even now there were\nmany of the members among those who had not taken the pledge, who\nregarded the whole movement as Mrs. Winslow did, in the nature of a\nfanatical interpretation of Christian duty, and looked for the\nreturn of the old normal condition. Meanwhile the whole body of\ndisciples was under the influence of the Spirit, and the pastor went\nhis way that summer, doing his parish work in great joy, keeping up\nhis meetings with the railroad men as he had promised Alexander\nPowers, and daily growing into a better knowledge of the Master.\n\nEarly one afternoon in August, after a day of refreshing coolness\nfollowing a long period of heat, Jasper Chase walked to his window\nin the apartment house on the avenue and looked out.\n\nOn his desk lay a pile of manuscript. Since that evening when he had\nspoken to Rachel Winslow he had not met her. His singularly\nsensitive nature--sensitive to the point of extreme irritability\nwhen he was thwarted--served to thrust him into an isolation that\nwas intensified by his habits as an author.\n\nAll through the heat of summer he had been writing. His book was\nnearly done now. He had thrown himself into its construction with a\nfeverish strength that threatened at any moment to desert him and\nleave him helpless. He had not forgotten his pledge made with the\nother church members at the First Church. It had forced itself upon\nhis notice all through his writing, and ever since Rachel had said\nno to him, he had asked a thousand times, \"Would Jesus do this?\nWould He write this story?\" It was a social novel, written in a\nstyle that had proved popular. It had no purpose except to amuse.\nIts moral teaching was not bad, but neither was it Christian in any\npositive way. Jasper Chase knew that such a story would probably\nsell. He was conscious of powers in this way that the social world\npetted and admired. \"What would Jesus do?\" He felt that Jesus would\nnever write such a book. The question obtruded on him at the most\ninopportune times. He became irascible over it. The standard of\nJesus for an author was too ideal. Of course, Jesus would use His\npowers to produce something useful or helpful, or with a purpose.\nWhat was he, Jasper Chase, writing this novel for? Why, what nearly\nevery writer wrote for--money, money, and fame as a writer. There\nwas no secret with him that he was writing this new story with that\nobject. He was not poor, and so had no great temptation to write for\nmoney. But he was urged on by his desire for fame as much as\nanything. He must write this kind of matter. But what would Jesus\ndo? The question plagued him even more than Rachel's refusal. Was he\ngoing to break his promise? \"Did the promise mean much after all?\"\nhe asked.\n\nAs he stood at the window, Rollin Page came out of the club house\njust opposite. Jasper noted his handsome face and noble figure as he\nstarted down the street. He went back to his desk and turned over\nsome papers there. Then he came back to the window. Rollin was\nwalking down past the block and Rachel Winslow was walking beside\nhim. Rollin must have overtaken her as she was coming from\nVirginia's that afternoon.\n\nJasper watched the two figures until they disappeared in the crowd\non the walk. Then he turned to his desk and began to write. When he\nhad finished the last page of the last chapter of his book it was\nnearly dark. \"What would Jesus do?\" He had finally answered the\nquestion by denying his Lord. It grew darker in his room. He had\ndeliberately chosen his course, urged on by his disappointment and\nloss.\n\n\"But Jesus said unto him, no man having put his hand to the plow, and\nlooking back, is fit for the Kingdom of God.\"\n\n\n\nChapter Eighteen\n\n\n\"What is that to thee? Follow thou me.\"\n\n\nWHEN Rollin started down the street the afternoon that Jasper stood\nlooking out of his window he was not thinking of Rachel Winslow and\ndid not expect to see her anywhere. He had come suddenly upon her as\nhe turned into the avenue and his heart had leaped up at the sight\nof her. He walked along by her now, rejoicing after all in a little\nmoment of this earthly love he could not drive out of his life.\n\n\"I have just been over to see Virginia,\" said Rachel. \"She tells me\nthe arrangements are nearly completed for the transfer of the\nRectangle property.\"\n\n\"Yes. It has been a tedious case in the courts. Did Virginia show\nyou all the plans and specifications for building?\"\n\n\"We looked over a good many. It is astonishing to me where Virginia\nhas managed to get all her ideas about this work.\"\n\n\"Virginia knows more now about Arnold Toynbee and East End London\nand Institutional Church work in America than a good many\nprofessional slum workers. She has been spending nearly all summer\nin getting information.\" Rollin was beginning to feel more at ease\nas they talked over this coming work of humanity. It was safe,\ncommon ground.\n\n\"What have you been doing all summer? I have not seen much of you,\"\nRachel suddenly asked, and then her face warmed with its quick flush\nof tropical color as if she might have implied too much interest in\nRollin or too much regret at not seeing him oftener.\n\n\"I have been busy,\" replied Rollin briefly.\n\n\"Tell me something about it,\" persisted Rachel. \"You say so little.\nHave I a right to ask?\"\n\nShe put the question very frankly, turning toward Rollin in real\nearnest.\n\n\"Yes, certainly,\" he replied, with a graceful smile. \"I am not so\ncertain that I can tell you much. I have been trying to find some\nway to reach the men I once knew and win them into more useful\nlives.\"\n\nHe stopped suddenly as if he were almost afraid to go on. Rachel did\nnot venture to suggest anything.\n\n\"I have been a member of the same company to which you and Virginia\nbelong,\" continued Rollin, beginning again. \"I have made the pledge\nto do as I believe Jesus would do, and it is in trying to answer\nthis question that I have been doing my work.\"\n\n\"That is what I do not understand. Virginia told me about the other.\nIt seems wonderful to think that you are trying to keep that pledge\nwith us. But what can you do with the club men?\"\n\n\"You have asked me a direct question and I shall have to answer it\nnow,\" replied Rollin, smiling again. \"You see, I asked myself after\nthat night at the tent, you remember\" (he spoke hurriedly and his\nvoice trembled a little), \"what purpose I could now have in my life\nto redeem it, to satisfy my thought of Christian discipleship? And\nthe more I thought of it, the more I was driven to a place where I\nknew I must take up the cross. Did you ever think that of all the\nneglected beings in our social system none are quite so completely\nleft alone as the fast young men who fill the clubs and waste their\ntime and money as I used to? The churches look after the poor,\nmiserable creatures like those in the Rectangle; they make some\neffort to reach the working man, they have a large constituency\namong the average salary-earning people, they send money and\nmissionaries to the foreign heathen, but the fashionable, dissipated\nyoung men around town, the club men, are left out of all plans for\nreaching and Christianizing. And yet no class of people need it\nmore. I said to myself: 'I know these men, their good and their bad\nqualities. I have been one of them. I am not fitted to reach the\nRectangle people. I do not know how. But I think I could possibly\nreach some of the young men and boys who have money and time to\nspend.' So that is what I have been trying to do. When I asked as\nyou did, What would Jesus do?' that was my answer. It has been also\nmy cross.\"\n\nRollin's voice was so low on this last sentence that Rachel had\ndifficulty in hearing him above the noise around them, But she knew\nwhat he had said. She wanted to ask what his methods were. But she\ndid not know how to ask him. Her interest in his plan was larger\nthan mere curiosity. Rollin Page was so different now from the\nfashionable young man who had asked her to be his wife that she\ncould not help thinking of him and talking with him as if he were an\nentirely new acquaintance.\n\nThey had turned off the avenue and were going up the street to\nRachel's home. It was the same street where Rollin had asked Rachel\nwhy she could not love him. They were both stricken with a sudden\nshyness as they went on. Rachel had not forgotten that day and\nRollin could not. She finally broke a long silence by asking what\nshe had not found words for before.\n\n\"In your work with the club men, with your old acquaintances, what\nsort of reception do they give you? How do you approach them? What\ndo they say?\"\n\nRollin was relieved when Rachel spoke. He answered quickly: \"Oh, it\ndepends on the man. A good many of them think I am a crank. I have\nkept my membership up and am in good standing in that way. I try to\nbe wise and not provoke any unnecessary criticism. But you would be\nsurprised to know how many of the men have responded to my appeal. I\ncould hardly make you believe that only a few nights ago a dozen men\nbecame honestly and earnestly engaged in a conversation over\nreligious matters. I have had the great joy of seeing some of the\nmen give up bad habits and begin a new life. 'What would Jesus do?'\nI keep asking it. The answer comes slowly, for I am feeling my way\nslowly. One thing I have found out. The men are not fighting shy of\nme. I think that is a good sign. Another thing: I have actually\ninterested some of them in the Rectangle work, and when it is\nstarted up they will give something to help make it more powerful.\nAnd in addition to all the rest, I have found a way to save several\nof the young fellows from going to the bad in gambling.\"\n\nRollin spoke with enthusiasm. His face was transformed by his\ninterest in the subject which had now become a part of his real\nlife. Rachel again noted the strong, manly tone of his speech. With\nit all she knew there was a deep, underlying seriousness which felt\nthe burden of the cross even while carrying it with joy. The next\ntime she spoke it was with a swift feeling of justice due to Rollin\nand his new life.\n\n\"Do you remember I reproached you once for not having any purpose\nworth living for?\" she asked, while her beautiful face seemed to\nRollin more beautiful than ever when he had won sufficient\nself-control to look up. \"I want to say, I feel the need of saying,\nin justice to you now, that I honor you for your courage and your\nobedience to the promise you have made as you interpret the promise.\nThe life you are living is a noble one.\"\n\nRollin trembled. His agitation was greater than he could control.\nRachel could not help seeing it. They walked along in silence. At\nlast Rollin said: \"I thank you. It has been worth more to me than I\ncan tell you to hear you say that.\" He looked into her face for one\nmoment. She read his love for her in that look, but he did not\nspeak.\n\nWhen they separated Rachel went into the house and, sitting down in\nher room, she put her face in her hands and said to herself: \"I am\nbeginning to know what it means to be loved by a noble man. I shall\nlove Rollin Page after all. What am I saying! Rachel Winslow, have\nyou forgotten--\"\n\nShe rose and walked back and forth. She was deeply moved.\nNevertheless, it was evident to herself that her emotion was not\nthat of regret or sorrow. Somehow a glad new joy had come to her.\nShe had entered another circle of experience, and later in the day\nshe rejoiced with a very strong and sincere gladness that her\nChristian discipleship found room in this crisis for her feeling. It\nwas indeed a part of it, for if she was beginning to love Rollin\nPage it was the Christian man she had begun to love; the other never\nwould have moved her to this great change.\n\nAnd Rollin, as he went back, treasured a hope that had been a\nstranger to him since Rachel had said no that day. In that hope he\nwent on with his work as the days sped on, and at no time was he\nmore successful in reaching and saving his old acquaintances than in\nthe time that followed that chance meeting with Rachel Winslow.\n\nThe summer had gone and Raymond was once more facing the rigor of\nher winter season. Virginia had been able to accomplish a part of\nher plan for \"capturing the Rectangle,\" as she called it. But the\nbuilding of houses in the field, the transforming of its bleak, bare\naspect into an attractive park, all of which was included in her\nplan, was a work too large to be completed that fall after she had\nsecured the property. But a million dollars in the hands of a person\nwho truly wants to do with it as Jesus would, ought to accomplish\nwonders for humanity in a short time, and Henry Maxwell, going over\nto the scene of the new work one day after a noon hour with the shop\nmen, was amazed to see how much had been done outwardly.\n\nYet he walked home thoughtfully, and on his way he could not avoid\nthe question of the continual problem thrust upon his notice by the\nsaloon. How much had been done for the Rectangle after all? Even\ncounting Virginia's and Rachel's work and Mr. Gray's, where had it\nactually counted in any visible quantity? Of course, he said to\nhimself, the redemptive work begun and carried on by the Holy Spirit\nin His wonderful displays of power in the First Church and in the\ntent meetings had had its effect upon the life of Raymond. But as he\nwalked past saloon after saloon and noted the crowds going in and\ncoming out of them, as he saw the wretched dens, as many as ever\napparently, as he caught the brutality and squalor and open misery\nand degradation on countless faces of men and women and children, he\nsickened at the sight. He found himself asking how much cleansing\ncould a million dollars poured into this cesspool accomplish? Was\nnot the living source of nearly all the human misery they sought to\nrelieve untouched as long as the saloons did their deadly but\nlegitimate work? What could even such unselfish Christian\ndiscipleship as Virginia's and Rachel's do to lessen the stream of\nvice and crime so long as the great spring of vice and crime flowed\nas deep and strong as ever? Was it not a practical waste of\nbeautiful lives for these young women to throw themselves into this\nearthly hell, when for every soul rescued by their sacrifice the\nsaloon made two more that needed rescue?\n\nHe could not escape the question. It was the same that Virginia had\nput to Rachel in her statement that, in her opinion, nothing really\npermanent would ever be done until the saloon was taken out of the\nRectangle. Henry Maxwell went back to his parish work that afternoon\nwith added convictions on the license business.\n\nBut if the saloon was a factor in the problem of the life of\nRaymond, no less was the First Church and its little company of\ndisciples who had pledged to do as Jesus would do. Henry Maxwell,\nstanding at the very centre of the movement, was not in a position\nto judge of its power as some one from the outside might have done.\nBut Raymond itself felt the touch in very many ways, not knowing all\nthe reasons for the change.\n\nThe winter was gone and the year was ended, the year which Henry\nMaxwell had fixed as the time during which the pledge should be kept\nto do as Jesus would do. Sunday, the anniversary of that one a year\nago, was in many ways the most remarkable day that the First Church\never knew. It was more important than the disciples in the First\nChurch realized. The year had made history so fast and so serious\nthat the people were not yet able to grasp its significance. And the\nday itself which marked the completion of a whole year of such\ndiscipleship was characterized by such revelations and confessions\nthat the immediate actors in the events themselves could not\nunderstand the value of what had been done, or the relation of their\ntrial to the rest of the churches and cities of the country.\n\nIt happened that the week before that anniversary Sunday the Rev.\nCalvin Bruce, D.D., of the Nazareth Avenue Church, Chicago, was\nin Raymond, where he had come on a visit to some old friends, and\nincidentally to see his old seminary classmate, Henry Maxwell. He\nwas present at the First Church and was an exceedingly attentive\nand interested spectator. His account of the events in Raymond, and\nespecially of that Sunday, may throw more light on the entire situation\nthan any description or record from other sources.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Nineteen\n\n\n[Letter from Rev. Calvin Bruce, D.D., of the Nazareth Avenue Church,\nChicago, to Rev. Philip A. Caxton, D.D., New York City.]\n\n\n\"My Dear Caxton:\n\n\"It is late Sunday night, but I am so intensely awake and so\noverflowing with what I have seen and heard that I feel driven to\nwrite you now some account of the situation in Raymond as I have\nbeen studying it, and as it has apparently come to a climax today.\nSo this is my only excuse for writing so extended a letter at this\ntime.\n\n\"You remember Henry Maxwell in the Seminary. I think you said the\nlast time I visited you in New York that you had not seen him since\nwe graduated. He was a refined, scholarly fellow, you remember, and\nwhen he was called to the First Church of Raymond within a year\nafter leaving the Seminary, I said to my wife, 'Raymond has made a\ngood choice. Maxwell will satisfy them as a sermonizer.' He has been\nhere eleven years, and I understand that up to a year ago he had\ngone on in the regular course of the ministry, giving good\nsatisfaction and drawing good congregations. His church was counted\nthe largest and wealthiest church in Raymond. All the best people\nattended it, and most of them belonged. The quartet choir was famous\nfor its music, especially for its soprano, Miss Winslow, of whom I\nshall have more to say; and, on the whole, as I understand the\nfacts, Maxwell was in a comfortable berth, with a very good salary,\npleasant surroundings, a not very exacting parish of refined, rich,\nrespectable people--such a church and parish as nearly all the young\nmen of the seminary in our time looked forward to as very desirable.\n\n\"But a year ago today Maxwell came into his church on Sunday\nmorning, and at the close of the service made the astounding\nproposition that the members of his church volunteer for a year not\nto do anything without first asking the question, 'What would Jesus\ndo?' and, after answering it, to do what in their honest judgment He\nwould do, regardless of what the result might be to them.\n\n\"The effect of this proposition, as it has been met and obeyed by a\nnumber of members of the church, has been so remarkable that, as you\nknow, the attention of the whole country has been directed to the\nmovement. I call it a 'movement' because from the action taken\ntoday, it seems probable that what has been tried here will reach\nout into the other churches and cause a revolution in methods, but\nmore especially in a new definition of Christian discipleship.\n\n\"In the first place, Maxwell tells me he was astonished at the\nresponse to his proposition. Some of the most prominent members in\nthe church made the promise to do as Jesus would. Among them were\nEdward Norman, editor of the DAILY NEWS, which has made such a\nsensation in the newspaper world; Milton Wright, one of the leading\nmerchants in Raymond; Alexander Powers, whose action in the matter\nof the railroads against the interstate commerce laws made such a\nstir about a year ago; Miss Page, one of Raymond's leading society\nheiresses, who has lately dedicated her entire fortune, as I\nunderstand, to the Christian daily paper and the work of reform in\nthe slum district known as the Rectangle; and Miss Winslow, whose\nreputation as a singer is now national, but who in obedience to what\nshe has decided to be Jesus' probable action, has devoted her talent\nto volunteer work among the girls and women who make up a large part\nof the city's worst and most abandoned population.\n\n\"In addition to these well-known people has been a gradually\nincreasing number of Christians from the First Church and lately\nfrom other churches of Raymond. A large proportion of these\nvolunteers who pledged themselves to do as Jesus would do comes from\nthe Endeavor societies. The young people say that they have already\nembodied in their society pledge the same principle in the words, 'I\npromise Him that I will strive to do whatever He would have me do.'\nThis is not exactly what is included in Maxwell's proposition, which\nis that the disciple shall try to do what Jesus would probably do in\nthe disciple's place. But the result of an honest obedience to\neither pledge, he claims, will be practically the same, and he is\nnot surprised that the largest numbers have joined the new\ndiscipleship from the Endeavor Society.\n\n\"I am sure the first question you will ask is, 'What has been the\nresult of this attempt? What has it accomplished or how has it\nchanged in any way the regular life of the church or the community?'\n\n\"You already know something, from reports of Raymond that have gone\nover the country, what the events have been. But one needs to come\nhere and learn something of the changes in individual lives, and\nespecially the change in the church life, to realize all that is\nmeant by this following of Jesus' steps so literally. To tell all\nthat would be to write a long story or series of stories. I am not\nin a position to do that, but I can give you some idea perhaps of\nwhat has been done as told me by friends here and by Maxwell\nhimself.\n\n\"The result of the pledge upon the First Church has been two-fold.\nIt has brought upon a spirit of Christian fellowship which Maxwell\ntells me never before existed, and which now impresses him as being\nvery nearly what the Christian fellowship of the apostolic churches\nmust have been; and it has divided the church into two distinct\ngroups of members. Those who have not taken the pledge regard the\nothers as foolishly literal in their attempt to imitate the example\nof Jesus. Some of them have drawn out of the church and no longer\nattend, or they have removed their membership entirely to other\nchurches. Some are an element of internal strife, and I heard rumors\nof an attempt on their part to force Maxwell's resignation. I do not\nknow that this element is very strong in the church. It has been\nheld in check by a wonderful continuance of spiritual power, which\ndates from the first Sunday the pledge was taken a year ago, and\nalso by the fact that so many of the most prominent members have\nbeen identified with the movement.\n\n\"The effect on Maxwell is very marked. I heard him preach in our\nState Association four years ago. He impressed me at the time as\nhaving considerable power in dramatic delivery, of which he himself\nwas somewhat conscious. His sermon was well written and abounded in\nwhat the Seminary students used to call 'fine passages.' The effect\nof it was what an average congregation would call 'pleasing.' This\nmorning I heard Maxwell preach again, for the first time since then.\nI shall speak of that farther on. He is not the same man. He gives\nme the impression of one who has passed through a crisis of\nrevolution. He tells me this revolution is simply a new definition\nof Christian discipleship. He certainly has changed many of his old\nhabits and many of his old views. His attitude on the saloon\nquestion is radically opposite to the one he entertained a year ago.\nAnd in his entire thought of the ministry, his pulpit and parish\nwork, I find he has made a complete change. So far as I can\nunderstand, the idea that is moving him on now is the idea that the\nChristianity of our times must represent a more literal imitation of\nJesus, and especially in the element of suffering. He quoted to me\nin the course of our conversation several times the verses in Peter:\n'For even hereunto were ye called, because Christ also suffered for\nyou, leaving you an example, that ye would follow His steps'; and he\nseems filled with the conviction that what our churches need today\nmore than anything else is this factor of joyful suffering for Jesus\nin some form. I do not know as I agree with him, altogether; but, my\ndear Caxton, it is certainly astonishing to note the results of this\nidea as they have impressed themselves upon this city and this\nchurch.\n\n\"You ask how about the results on the individuals who have made this\npledge and honestly tried to be true to it. Those results are, as I\nhave said, a part of individual history and cannot be told in\ndetail. Some of them I can give you so that you may see that this\nform of discipleship is not merely sentiment or fine posing for\neffect.\n\n\"For instance, take the case of Mr. Powers, who was superintendent\nof the machine shops of the L. and T. R. R. here. When he acted upon\nthe evidence which incriminated the road he lost his position, and\nmore than that, I learn from my friends here, his family and social\nrelations have become so changed that he and his family no longer\nappear in public. They have dropped out of the social circle where\nonce they were so prominent. By the way, Caxton, I understand in\nthis connection that the Commission, for one reason or another,\npostponed action on this case, and it is now rumored that the L. and\nT. R. R. will pass into a receiver's hands very soon. The president\nof the road who, according to the evidence submitted by Powers, was\nthe principal offender, has resigned, and complications which have\nrisen since point to the receivership. Meanwhile, the superintendent\nhas gone back to his old work as a telegraph operator. I met him at\nthe church yesterday. He impressed me as a man who had, like\nMaxwell, gone through a crisis in character. I could not help\nthinking of him as being good material for the church of the first\ncentury when the disciples had all things in common.\n\n\"Or take the case of Mr. Norman, editor of the DAILY NEWS. He risked\nhis entire fortune in obedience to what he believed was Jesus'\naction, and revolutionized his entire conduct of the paper at the\nrisk of a failure. I send you a copy of yesterday's paper. I want\nyou to read it carefully. To my mind it is one of the most\ninteresting and remarkable papers ever printed in the United States.\nIt is open to criticism, but what could any mere man attempt in this\nline that would be free from criticism. Take it all in all, it is so\nfar above the ordinary conception of a daily paper that I am amazed\nat the result. He tells me that the paper is beginning to be read\nmore and more by the Christian people of the city. He was very\nconfident of its final success. Read his editorial on the money\nquestions, also the one on the coming election in Raymond when the\nquestion of license will again be an issue. Both articles are of the\nbest from his point of view. He says he never begins an editorial\nor, in fact, any part of his newspaper work, without first asking,\n'What would Jesus do?' The result is certainly apparent.\n\n\"Then there is Milton Wright, the merchant. He has, I am told, so\nrevolutionized his business that no man is more beloved today in\nRaymond. His own clerks and employees have an affection for him that\nis very touching. During the winter, while he was lying dangerously\nill at his home, scores of clerks volunteered to watch and help in\nany way possible, and his return to his store was greeted with\nmarked demonstrations. All this has been brought about by the\nelement of personal love introduced into the business. This love is\nnot mere words, but the business itself is carried on under a system\nof co-operation that is not a patronizing recognition of inferiors,\nbut a real sharing in the whole business. Other men on the street\nlook upon Milton Wright as odd. It is a fact, however, that while he\nhas lost heavily in some directions, he has increased his business,\nand is today respected and honored as one of the best and most\nsuccessful merchants in Raymond.\n\n\"And there is Miss Winslow. She has chosen to give her great talent\nto the poor of the city. Her plans include a Musical Institute where\nchoruses and classes in vocal music shall be a feature. She is\nenthusiastic over her life work. In connection with her friend Miss\nPage she has planned a course in music which, if carried out, will\ncertainly do much to lift up the lives of the people down there. I\nam not too old, dear Caxton, to be interested in the romantic side\nof much that has also been tragic here in Raymond, and I must tell\nyou that it is well understood here that Miss Winslow expects to be\nmarried this spring to a brother of Miss Page who was once a society\nleader and club man, and who was converted in a tent where his\nwife-that-is-to-be took an active part in the service. I don't know\nall the details of this little romance, but I imagine there is a\nstory wrapped up in it, and it would make interesting reading if we\nonly knew it all.\n\n\"These are only a few illustrations of results in individual lives\nowing to obedience to the pledge. I meant to have spoken of\nPresident Marsh of Lincoln College. He is a graduate of my alma\nmater and I knew him slightly when I was in the senior year. He has\ntaken an active part in the recent municipal campaign, and his\ninfluence in the city is regarded as a very large factor in the\ncoming election. He impressed me, as did all the other disciples in\nthis movement, as having fought out some hard questions, and as\nhaving taken up some real burdens that have caused and still do\ncause that suffering of which Henry Maxwell speaks, a suffering that\ndoes not eliminate, but does appear to intensify, a positive and\npractical joy.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty\n\n\n\"BUT I am prolonging this letter, possibly to your weariness. I am\nunable to avoid the feeling of fascination which my entire stay here\nhas increased. I want to tell you something of the meeting in the\nFirst Church today.\n\n\"As I said, I heard Maxwell preach. At his earnest request I had\npreached for him the Sunday before, and this was the first time I\nhad heard him since the Association meeting four years ago. His\nsermon this morning was as different from his sermon then as if it\nhad been thought out and preached by some one living on another\nplanet. I was profoundly touched. I believe I actually shed tears\nonce. Others in the congregation were moved like myself. His text\nwas: 'What is that to thee? Follow thou Me.' It was a most unusually\nimpressive appeal to the Christians of Raymond to obey Jesus'\nteachings and follow in His steps regardless of what others might\ndo. I cannot give you even the plan of the sermon. It would take too\nlong. At the close of the service there was the usual after meeting\nthat has become a regular feature of the First Church. Into this\nmeeting have come all those who made the pledge to do as Jesus would\ndo, and the time is spent in mutual fellowship, confession, question\nas to what Jesus would do in special cases, and prayer that the one\ngreat guide of every disciple's conduct may be the Holy Spirit.\n\n\"Maxwell asked me to come into this meeting. Nothing in all my\nministerial life, Caxton, has so moved me as that meeting. I never\nfelt the Spirit's presence so powerfully. It was a meeting of\nreminiscences and of the most loving fellowship. I was irresistibly\ndriven in thought back to the first years of Christianity. There was\nsomething about all this that was apostolic in its simplicity and\nChrist imitation.\n\n\"I asked questions. One that seemed to arouse more interest than any\nother was in regard to the extent of the Christian disciple's\nsacrifice of personal property. Maxwell tells me that so far no one\nhas interpreted the spirit of Jesus in such a way as to abandon his\nearthly possessions, give away of his wealth, or in any literal way\nimitate the Christians of the order, for example, of St. Francis of\nAssisi. It was the unanimous consent, however, that if any disciple\nshould feel that Jesus in his own particular case would do that,\nthere could be only one answer to the question. Maxwell admitted\nthat he was still to a certain degree uncertain as to Jesus'\nprobable action when it came to the details of household living, the\npossession of wealth, the holding of certain luxuries. It is,\nhowever, very evident that many of these disciples have repeatedly\ncarried their obedience to Jesus to the extreme limit, regardless of\nfinancial loss. There is no lack of courage or consistency at this\npoint.\n\n\"It is also true that some of the business men who took the pledge\nhave lost great sums of money in this imitation of Jesus, and many\nhave, like Alexander Powers, lost valuable positions owing to the\nimpossibility of doing what they had been accustomed to do and at\nthe same time what they felt Jesus would do in the same place. In\nconnection with these cases it is pleasant to record the fact that\nmany who have suffered in this way have been at once helped\nfinancially by those who still have means. In this respect I think\nit is true that these disciples have all things in common. Certainly\nsuch scenes as I witnessed at the First Church at that after service\nthis morning I never saw in my church or in any other. I never\ndreamed that such Christian fellowship could exist in this age of\nthe world. I was almost incredulous as to the witness of my own\nsenses. I still seem to be asking myself if this is the close of the\nnineteenth century in America.\n\n\"But now, dear friend, I come to the real cause of this letter, the\nreal heart of the whole question as the First Church of Raymond has\nforced it upon me. Before the meeting closed today steps were taken\nto secure the co-operation of all other Christian disciples in this\ncountry. I think Maxwell took this step after long deliberation. He\nsaid as much to me one day when we were discussing the effect of\nthis movement upon the church in general.\n\n\"'Why,' he said, 'suppose that the church membership generally in\nthis country made this pledge and lived up to it! What a revolution\nit would cause in Christendom! But why not? Is it any more than the\ndisciple ought to do? Has he followed Jesus, unless he is willing to\ndo this? Is the test of discipleship any less today than it was in\nJesus' time?'\n\n\"I do not know all that preceded or followed his thought of what\nought to be done outside of Raymond, but the idea crystallized today\nin a plan to secure the fellowship of all the Christians in America.\nThe churches, through their pastors, will be asked to form disciple\ngatherings like the one in the First Church. Volunteers will be\ncalled for in the great body of church members in the United States,\nwho will promise to do as Jesus would do. Maxwell spoke particularly\nof the result of such general action on the saloon question. He is\nterribly in earnest over this. He told me that there was no question\nin his mind that the saloon would be beaten in Raymond at the\nelection now near at hand. If so, they could go on with some courage\nto do the redemptive work begun by the evangelist and now taken up\nby the disciples in his own church. If the saloon triumphs again\nthere will be a terrible and, as he thinks, unnecessary waste of\nChristian sacrifice. But, however we differ on that point, he\nconvinced his church that the time had come for a fellowship with\nother Christians. Surely, if the First Church could work such\nchanges in society and its surroundings, the church in general if\ncombining such a fellowship, not of creed but of conduct, ought to\nstir the entire nation to a higher life and a new conception of\nChristian following.\n\n\"This is a grand idea, Caxton, but right here is where I find my\nself hesitating. I do not deny that the Christian disciple ought to\nfollow Christ's steps as closely as these here in Raymond have tried\nto do. But I cannot avoid asking what the result would be if I ask\nmy church in Chicago to do it. I am writing this after feeling the\nsolemn, profound touch of the Spirit's presence, and I confess to\nyou, old friend, that I cannot call up in my church a dozen\nprominent business or professional men who would make this trial at\nthe risk of all they hold dear. Can you do any better in your\nchurch? What are we to say? That the churches would not respond to\nthe call: 'Come and suffer?' Is our standard of Christian\ndiscipleship a wrong one? Or are we possibly deceiving ourselves,\nand would we be agreeably disappointed if we once asked our people\nto take such a pledge faithfully? The actual results of the pledge\nas obeyed here in Raymond are enough to make any pastor tremble, and\nat the same time long with yearning that they might occur in his own\nparish. Certainly never have I seen a church so signally blessed by\nthe Spirit as this one. But--am I myself ready to take this pledge?\nI ask the question honestly, and I dread to face an honest answer. I\nknow well enough that I should have to change very much in my life\nif I undertook to follow His steps so closely. I have called myself\na Christian for many years. For the past ten years I have enjoyed a\nlife that has had comparatively little suffering in it. I am,\nhonestly I say it, living at a long distance from municipal problems\nand the life of the poor, the degraded and the abandoned. What would\nthe obedience to this pledge demand of me? I hesitate to answer. My\nchurch is wealthy, full of well-to-do, satisfied people. The\nstandard of their discipleship is, I am aware, not of a nature to\nrespond to the call of suffering or personal loss. I say: 'I am\naware.' I may be mistaken. I may have erred in not stirring their\ndeeper life. Caxton, my friend, I have spoken my inmost thought to\nyou. Shall I go back to my people next Sunday and stand up before\nthem in my large city church and say: 'Let us follow Jesus closer;\nlet us walk in His steps where it will cost us something more than\nit is costing us now; let us pledge not to do anything without first\nasking: 'What would Jesus do?' If I should go before them with that\nmessage, it would be a strange and startling one to them. But why?\nAre we not ready to follow Him all the way? What is it to be a\nfollower of Jesus? What does it mean to imitate Him? What does it\nmean to walk in His steps?\"\n\nThe Rev. Calvin Bruce, D. D., of the Nazareth Avenue Church,\nChicago, let his pen fall on the table. He had come to the parting\nof the ways, and his question, he felt sure, was the question of\nmany and many a man in the ministry and in the church. He went to\nhis window and opened it. He was oppressed with the weight of his\nconvictions and he felt almost suffocated with the air in the room.\nHe wanted to see the stars and feel the breath of the world.\n\nThe night was very still. The clock in the First Church was just\nstriking midnight. As it finished a clear, strong voice down in the\ndirection of the Rectangle came floating up to him as if borne on\nradiant pinions.\n\nIt was a voice of one of Gray's old converts, a night watchman at\nthe packing houses, who sometimes solaced his lonesome hours by a\nverse or two of some familiar hymn:\n\n    \"Must Jesus bear the cross alone\n     And all the world go free?\n     No, there's a cross for every one,\n     And there's a cross for me.\"\n\nThe Rev. Calvin Bruce turned away from the window and, after a\nlittle hesitation, he kneeled. \"What would Jesus do?\" That was the\nburden of his prayer. Never had he yielded himself so completely to\nthe Spirit's searching revealing of Jesus. He was on his knees a\nlong time. He retired and slept fitfully with many awakenings. He\nrose before it was clear dawn, and threw open his window again. As\nthe light in the east grew stronger he repeated to himself: \"What\nwould Jesus do? Shall I follow His steps?\"\n\nThe sun rose and flooded the city with its power. When shall the\ndawn of a new discipleship usher in the conquering triumph of a\ncloser walk with Jesus? When shall Christendom tread more closely\nthe path he made?\n\n    \"It is the way the Master trod;\n     Shall not the servant tread it still?\"\n\nWith this question throbbing through his whole being, the Rev. Calvin\nBruce, D. D., went back to Chicago, and the great crisis in his\nChristian life in the ministry suddenly broke irresistibly upon him.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-one\n\n\n\"Master, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest.\"\n\n\nTHE Saturday afternoon matinee at the Auditorium in Chicago was just\nover and the usual crowd was struggling to get to its carriage\nbefore any one else. The Auditorium attendant was shouting out the\nnumbers of different carriages and the carriage doors were slamming\nas the horses were driven rapidly up to the curb, held there\nimpatiently by the drivers who had shivered long in the raw east\nwind, and then let go to plunge for a few minutes into the river of\nvehicles that tossed under the elevated railway and finally went\nwhirling off up the avenue.\n\n\"Now then, 624,\" shouted the Auditorium attendant; \"624!\" he\nrepeated, and there dashed up to the curb a splendid span of black\nhorses attached to a carriage having the monogram, \"C. R. S.\" in\ngilt letters on the panel of the door.\n\nTwo girls stepped out of the crowd towards the carriage. The older\none had entered and taken her seat and the attendant was still\nholding the door open for the younger, who stood hesitating on the\ncurb.\n\n\"Come, Felicia! What are you waiting for! I shall freeze to death!\"\ncalled the voice from the carriage.\n\nThe girl outside of the carriage hastily unpinned a bunch of English\nviolets from her dress and handed them to a small boy who was\nstanding shivering on the edge of the sidewalk almost under the\nhorses' feet. He took them, with a look of astonishment and a \"Thank\nye, lady!\" and instantly buried a very grimy face in the bunch of\nperfume. The girl stepped into the carriage, the door shut with the\nincisive bang peculiar to well-made carriages of this sort, and in a\nfew moments the coachman was speeding the horses rapidly up one of\nthe boulevards.\n\n\"You are always doing some queer thing or other, Felicia,\" said the\nolder girl as the carriage whirled on past the great residences\nalready brilliantly lighted.\n\n\"Am I? What have I done that is queer now, Rose?\" asked the other,\nlooking up suddenly and turning her head towards her sister.\n\n\"Oh, giving those violets to that boy! He looked as if he needed a\ngood hot supper more than a bunch of violets. It's a wonder you\ndidn't invite him home with us. I shouldn't have been surprised if\nyou had. You are always doing such queer things.\"\n\n\"Would it be queer to invite a boy like that to come to the house\nand get a hot supper?\" Felicia asked the question softly and almost\nas if she were alone.\n\n\"'Queer' isn't just the word, of course,\" replied Rose\nindifferently. \"It would be what Madam Blanc calls 'outre.'\nDecidedly. Therefore you will please not invite him or others like\nhim to hot suppers because I suggested it. Oh, dear! I'm awfully\ntired.\"\n\nShe yawned, and Felicia silently looked out of the window in the\ndoor.\n\n\"The concert was stupid and the violinist was simply a bore. I don't\nsee how you could sit so still through it all,\" Rose exclaimed a\nlittle impatiently.\n\n\"I liked the music,\" answered Felicia quietly.\n\n\"You like anything. I never saw a girl with so little critical\ntaste.\"\n\nFelicia colored slightly, but would not answer. Rose yawned again,\nand then hummed a fragment of a popular song. Then she exclaimed\nabruptly: \"I'm sick of 'most everything. I hope the 'Shadows of\nLondon' will be exciting tonight.\"\n\n\"The 'Shadows of Chicago,'\" murmured Felicia. \"The 'Shadows of\nChicago!' The 'Shadows of London,' the play, the great drama with\nits wonderful scenery, the sensation of New York for two months. You\nknow we have a box with the Delanos tonight.\"\n\nFelicia turned her face towards her sister. Her great brown eyes\nwere very expressive and not altogether free from a sparkle of\nluminous heat.\n\n\"And yet we never weep over the real thing on the actual stage of\nlife. What are the 'Shadows of London' on the stage to the shadows\nof London or Chicago as they really exist? Why don't we get excited\nover the facts as they are?\"\n\n\"Because the actual people are dirty and disagreeable and it's too\nmuch bother, I suppose,\" replied Rose carelessly. \"Felicia, you can\nnever reform the world. What's the use? We're not to blame for the\npoverty and misery. There have always been rich and poor; and there\nalways will be. We ought to be thankful we're rich.\"\n\n\"Suppose Christ had gone on that principle,\" replied Felicia, with\nunusual persistence. \"Do you remember Dr. Bruce's sermon on that\nverse a few Sundays ago: 'For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus\nChrist, that though he was rich yet for our sakes he became poor,\nthat ye through his poverty might become rich'?\"\n\n\"I remember it well enough,\" said Rose with some petulance, \"and\ndidn't Dr. Bruce go on to say that there is no blame attached to\npeople who have wealth if they are kind and give to the needs of the\npoor? And I am sure that he himself is pretty comfortably settled.\nHe never gives up his luxuries just because some people go hungry.\nWhat good would it do if he did? I tell you, Felicia, there will\nalways be poor and rich in spite of all we can do. Ever since Rachel\nWinslow has written about those queer doings in Raymond you have\nupset the whole family. People can't live at that concert pitch all\nthe time. You see if Rachel doesn't give it up soon. It's a great\npity she doesn't come to Chicago and sing in the Auditorium\nconcerts. She has received an offer. I'm going to write and urge her\nto come. I'm just dying to hear her sing.\"\n\nFelicia looked out of the window and was silent. The carriage rolled\non past two blocks of magnificent private residences and turned into\na wide driveway under a covered passage, and the sisters hurried\ninto the house. It was an elegant mansion of gray stone furnished\nlike a palace, every corner of it warm with the luxury of paintings,\nsculpture, art and modern refinement.\n\nThe owner of it all, Mr. Charles R. Sterling, stood before an open\ngrate fire smoking a cigar. He had made his money in grain\nspeculation and railroad ventures, and was reputed to be worth\nsomething over two millions. His wife was a sister of Mrs. Winslow\nof Raymond. She had been an invalid for several years. The two\ngirls, Rose and Felicia, were the only children. Rose was twenty-one\nyears old, fair, vivacious, educated in a fashionable college, just\nentering society and already somewhat cynical and indifferent. A\nvery hard young lady to please, her father said, sometimes\nplayfully, sometimes sternly. Felicia was nineteen, with a tropical\nbeauty somewhat like her cousin, Rachel Winslow, with warm, generous\nimpulses just waking into Christian feeling, capable of all sorts of\nexpression, a puzzle to her father, a source of irritation to her\nmother and with a great unsurveyed territory of thought and action\nin herself, of which she was more than dimly conscious. There was\nthat in Felicia that would easily endure any condition in life if\nonly the liberty to act fully on her conscientious convictions were\ngranted her.\n\n\"Here's a letter for you, Felicia,\" said Mr. Sterling, handing it to\nher.\n\nFelicia sat down and instantly opened the letter, saying as she did\nso: \"It's from Rachel.\"\n\n\"Well, what's the latest news from Raymond?\" asked Mr. Sterling,\ntaking his cigar out of his mouth and looking at Felicia with\nhalf-shut eyes, as if he were studying her.\n\n\"Rachel says Dr. Bruce has been staying in Raymond for two Sundays\nand has seemed very much interested in Mr. Maxwell's pledge in the\nFirst Church.\"\n\n\"What does Rachel say about herself?\" asked Rose, who was lying on a\ncouch almost buried under elegant cushions.\n\n\"She is still singing at the Rectangle. Since the tent meetings\nclosed she sings in an old hall until the new buildings which her\nfriend, Virginia Page, is putting up are completed.\n\n\"I must write Rachel to come to Chicago and visit us. She ought not\nto throw away her voice in that railroad town upon all those people\nwho don't appreciate her.\"\n\nMr. Sterling lighted a new cigar and Rose exclaimed: \"Rachel is so\nqueer. She might set Chicago wild with her voice if she sang in the\nAuditorium. And there she goes on throwing it away on people who\ndon't know what they are hearing.\"\n\n\"Rachel won't come here unless she can do it and keep her pledge at\nthe same time,\" said Felicia, after a pause.\n\n\"What pledge?\" Mr. Sterling asked the question and then added\nhastily: \"Oh, I know, yes! A very peculiar thing that. Alexander\nPowers used to be a friend of mine. We learned telegraphy in the\nsame office. Made a great sensation when he resigned and handed over\nthat evidence to the Interstate Commerce Commission. And he's back\nat his telegraph again. There have been queer doings in Raymond\nduring the past year. I wonder what Dr. Bruce thinks of it on the\nwhole. I must have a talk with him about it.\"\n\n\"He is at home and will preach tomorrow,\" said Felicia. \"Perhaps he\nwill tell us something about it.\"\n\nThere was silence for a minute. Then Felicia said abruptly, as if\nshe had gone on with a spoken thought to some invisible hearer: \"And\nwhat if he should propose the same pledge to the Nazareth Avenue\nChurch?\"\n\n\"Who? What are you talking about?\" asked her father a little\nsharply.\n\n\"About Dr. Bruce. I say, what if he should propose to our church\nwhat Mr. Maxwell proposed to his, and ask for volunteers who would\npledge themselves to do everything after asking the question, 'What\nwould Jesus do?'\"\n\n\"There's no danger of it,\" said Rose, rising suddenly from the couch\nas the tea-bell rang.\n\n\"It's a very impracticable movement, to my mind,\" said Mr. Sterling\nshortly.\n\n\"I understand from Rachel's letter that the Raymond church is going\nto make an attempt to extend the idea of the pledge to other\nchurches. If it succeeds it will certainly make great changes in the\nchurches and in people's lives,\" said Felicia.\n\n\"Oh, well, let's have some tea first!\" said Rose, walking into the\ndining-room. Her father and Felicia followed, and the meal proceeded\nin silence. Mrs. Sterling had her meals served in her room. Mr.\nSterling was preoccupied. He ate very little and excused himself\nearly, and although it was Saturday night, he remarked as he went\nout that he should be down town on some special business.\n\n\"Don't you think father looks very much disturbed lately?\" asked\nFelicia a little while after he had gone out.\n\n\"Oh, I don't know! I hadn't noticed anything unusual,\" replied Rose.\nAfter a silence she said: \"Are you going to the play tonight,\nFelicia? Mrs. Delano will be here at half past seven. I think you\nought to go. She will feel hurt if you refuse.\"\n\n\"I'll go. I don't care about it. I can see shadows enough without\ngoing to the play.\"\n\n\"That's a doleful remark for a girl nineteen years old to make,\"\nreplied Rose. \"But then you're queer in your ideas anyhow, Felicia.\nIf you are going up to see mother, tell her I'll run in after the\nplay if she is still awake.\"\n\nFelicia went up to see her mother and remained with her until the\nDelano carriage came. Mrs. Sterling was worried about her husband. She\ntalked incessantly, and was irritated by every remark Felicia made. She\nwould not listen to Felicia's attempts to read even a part of Rachel's\nletter, and when Felicia offered to stay with her for the evening, she\nrefused the offer with a good deal of positive sharpness.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-two\n\n\nFELICIA started off to the play not very happy, but she was familiar\nwith that feeling, only sometimes she was more unhappy than at\nothers. Her feeling expressed itself tonight by a withdrawal into\nherself. When the company was seated in the box and the curtain had\ngone up Felicia was back of the others and remained for the evening\nby herself. Mrs. Delano, as chaperon for half a dozen young ladies,\nunderstood Felicia well enough to know that she was \"queer,\" as Rose\nso often said, and she made no attempt to draw her out of her\ncorner. And so the girl really experienced that night by herself one\nof the feelings that added to the momentum that was increasing the\ncoming on of her great crisis.\n\nThe play was an English melodrama, full of startling situations,\nrealistic scenery and unexpected climaxes. There was one scene in\nthe third act that impressed even Rose Sterling.\n\nIt was midnight on Blackfriars Bridge. The Thames flowed dark and\nforbidden below. St. Paul's rose through the dim light imposing, its\ndome seeming to float above the buildings surrounding it. The figure\nof a child came upon the bridge and stood there for a moment peering\nabout as if looking for some one. Several persons were crossing the\nbridge, but in one of the recesses about midway of the river a woman\nstood, leaning out over the parapet, with a strained agony of face\nand figure that told plainly of her intention. Just as she was\nstealthily mounting the parapet to throw herself into the river, the\nchild caught sight of her, ran forward with a shrill cry more animal\nthan human, and seizing the woman's dress dragged back upon it with\nall her little strength. Then there came suddenly upon the scene two\nother characters who had already figured in the play, a tall,\nhandsome, athletic gentleman dressed in the fashion, attended by a\nslim-figured lad who was as refined in dress and appearance as the\nlittle girl clinging to her mother, who was mournfully hideous in\nher rags and repulsive poverty. These two, the gentleman and the\nlad, prevented the attempted suicide, and after a tableau on the\nbridge where the audience learned that the man and woman were\nbrother and sister, the scene was transferred to the interior of one\nof the slum tenements in the East Side of London. Here the scene\npainter and carpenter had done their utmost to produce an exact copy\nof a famous court and alley well known to the poor creatures who\nmake up a part of the outcast London humanity. The rags, the\ncrowding, the vileness, the broken furniture, the horrible animal\nexistence forced upon creatures made in God's image were so\nskilfully shown in this scene that more than one elegant woman in\nthe theatre, seated like Rose Sterling in a sumptuous box surrounded\nwith silk hangings and velvet covered railing, caught herself\nshrinking back a little as if contamination were possible from the\nnearness of this piece of scenery. It was almost too realistic, and\nyet it had a horrible fascination for Felicia as she sat there\nalone, buried back in a cushioned seat and absorbed in thoughts that\nwent far beyond the dialogue on the stage.\n\nFrom the tenement scene the play shifted to the interior of a\nnobleman's palace, and almost a sigh of relief went up all over the\nhouse at the sight of the accustomed luxury of the upper classes.\nThe contrast was startling. It was brought about by a clever piece\nof staging that allowed only a few moments to elapse between the\nslum and the palace scene. The dialogue went on, the actors came and\nwent in their various roles, but upon Felicia the play made but one\ndistinct impression. In realty the scenes on the bridge and in the\nslums were only incidents in the story of the play, but Felicia\nfound herself living those scenes over and over. She had never\nphilosophized about the causes of human misery, she was not old\nenough she had not the temperament that philosophizes. But she felt\nintensely, and this was not the first time she had felt the contrast\nthrust into her feeling between the upper and the lower conditions\nof human life. It had been growing upon her until it had made her\nwhat Rose called \"queer,\" and other people in her circle of wealthy\nacquaintances called very unusual. It was simply the human problem\nin its extreme of riches and poverty, its refinement and its\nvileness, that was, in spite of her unconscious attempts to struggle\nagainst the facts, burning into her life the impression that would\nin the end either transform her into a woman of rare love and\nself-sacrifice for the world, or a miserable enigma to herself and\nall who knew her.\n\n\"Come, Felicia, aren't you going home?\" said Rose. The play was\nover, the curtain down, and people were going noisily out, laughing\nand gossiping as if \"The Shadows of London\" were simply good\ndiversion, as they were, put on the stage so effectively.\n\nFelicia rose and went out with the rest quietly, and with the\nabsorbed feeling that had actually left her in her seat oblivious of\nthe play's ending. She was never absent-minded, but often thought\nherself into a condition that left her alone in the midst of a\ncrowd.\n\n\"Well, what did you think of it?\" asked Rose when the sisters had\nreached home and were in the drawing-room. Rose really had\nconsiderable respect for Felicia's judgment of a play.\n\n\"I thought it was a pretty fair picture of real life.\"\n\n\"I mean the acting,\" said Rose, annoyed.\n\n\"The bridge scene was well acted, especially the woman's part. I\nthought the man overdid the sentiment a little.\"\n\n\"Did you? I enjoyed that. And wasn't the scene between the two\ncousins funny when they first learned they were related? But the\nslum scene was horrible. I think they ought not to show such things\nin a play. They are too painful.\"\n\n\"They must be painful in real life, too,\" replied Felicia.\n\n\"Yes, but we don't have to look at the real thing. It's bad enough\nat the theatre where we pay for it.\"\n\nRose went into the dining-room and began to eat from a plate of\nfruit and cakes on the sideboard.\n\n\"Are you going up to see mother?\" asked Felicia after a while. She\nhad remained in front of the drawing-room fireplace.\n\n\"No,\" replied Rose from the other room. \"I won't trouble her\ntonight. If you go in tell her I am too tired to be agreeable.\"\n\nSo Felicia turned into her mother's room, as she went up the great\nstaircase and down the upper hall. The light was burning there, and\nthe servant who always waited on Mrs. Sterling was beckoning Felicia\nto come in.\n\n\"Tell Clara to go out,\" exclaimed Mrs. Sterling as Felicia came up\nto the bed.\n\nFelicia was surprised, but she did as her mother bade her, and then\ninquired how she was feeling.\n\n\"Felicia,\" said her mother, \"can you pray?\"\n\nThe question was so unlike any her mother had ever asked before that\nshe was startled. But she answered: \"Why, yes, mother. Why do you\nask such a question?\"\n\n\"Felicia, I am frightened. Your father--I have had such strange\nfears about him all day. Something is wrong with him. I want you to\npray--.\"\n\n\"Now, here, mother?\"\n\n\"Yes. Pray, Felicia.\"\n\nFelicia reached out her hand and took her mother's. It was\ntrembling. Mrs. Sterling had never shown such tenderness for her\nyounger daughter, and her strange demand now was the first real sign\nof any confidence in Felicia's character.\n\nThe girl kneeled, still holding her mother's trembling hand, and\nprayed. It is doubtful if she had ever prayed aloud before. She must\nhave said in her prayer the words that her mother needed, for when\nit was silent in the room the invalid was weeping softly and her\nnervous tension was over.\n\nFelicia stayed some time. When she was assured that her mother would\nnot need her any longer she rose to go.\n\n\"Good night, mother. You must let Clara call me if you feel badly in\nthe night.\"\n\n\"I feel better now.\" Then as Felicia was moving away, Mrs. Sterling\nsaid: \"Won't you kiss me, Felicia?\"\n\nFelicia went back and bent over her mother. The kiss was almost as\nstrange to her as the prayer had been. When Felicia went out of the\nroom her cheeks were wet with tears. She had not often cried since\nshe was a little child.\n\nSunday morning at the Sterling mansion was generally very quiet. The\ngirls usually went to church at eleven o'clock service. Mr. Sterling\nwas not a member but a heavy contributor, and he generally went to\nchurch in the morning. This time he did not come down to breakfast,\nand finally sent word by a servant that he did not feel well enough\nto go out. So Rose and Felicia drove up to the door of the Nazareth\nAvenue Church and entered the family pew alone.\n\nWhen Dr. Bruce walked out of the room at the rear of the platform\nand went up to the pulpit to open the Bible as his custom was, those\nwho knew him best did not detect anything unusual in his manner or\nhis expression. He proceeded with the service as usual. He was calm\nand his voice was steady and firm. His prayer was the first\nintimation the people had of anything new or strange in the service.\nIt is safe to say that the Nazareth Avenue Church had not heard Dr.\nBruce offer such a prayer before during the twelve years he had been\npastor there. How would a minister be likely to pray who had come\nout of a revolution in Christian feeling that had completely changed\nhis definition of what was meant by following Jesus? No one in\nNazareth Avenue Church had any idea that the Rev. Calvin Bruce, D.\nD., the dignified, cultured, refined Doctor of Divinity, had within\na few days been crying like a little child on his knees, asking for\nstrength and courage and Christlikeness to speak his Sunday message;\nand yet the prayer was an unconscious involuntary disclosure of his\nsoul's experience such as the Nazareth Avenue people had seldom\nheard, and never before from that pulpit.\n\nIn the hush that succeeded the prayer a distinct wave of spiritual\npower moved over the congregation. The most careless persons in the\nchurch felt it. Felicia, whose sensitive religious nature responded\nswiftly to every touch of emotion, quivered under the passing of that\nsupernatural pressure, and when she lifted her head and looked up at\nthe minister there was a look in her eyes that announced her intense,\neager anticipation of the scene that was to follow. And she was not\nalone in her attitude. There was something in the prayer and the result\nof it that stirred many and many a disciple in that church. All over\nthe house men and women leaned forward, and when Dr. Bruce began to\nspeak of his visit to Raymond, in the opening sentence of his address\nwhich this morning preceded his sermon, there was an answering response\nin the people that came back to him as he spoke, and thrilled him with\nthe hope of a spiritual baptism such as he had never during all his\nministry experienced.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-three\n\n\n\"I AM just back from a visit to Raymond,\" Dr. Bruce began, \"and I\nwant to tell you something of my impressions of the movement there.\"\n\nHe paused and his look went out over his people with yearning for\nthem and at the same time with a great uncertainty at his heart. How\nmany of his rich, fashionable, refined, luxury-loving members would\nunderstand the nature of the appeal he was soon to make to them? He\nwas altogether in the dark as to that. Nevertheless he had been\nthrough his desert, and had come out of it ready to suffer. He went\non now after that brief pause and told them the story of his stay in\nRaymond. The people already knew something of that experiment in the\nFirst Church. The whole country had watched the progress of the\npledge as it had become history in so many lives. Mr. Maxwell had at\nlast decided that the time had come to seek the fellowship of other\nchurches throughout the country. The new discipleship in Raymond had\nproved to be so valuable in its results that he wished the churches\nin general to share with the disciples in Raymond. Already there had\nbegun a volunteer movement in many churches throughout the country,\nacting on their own desire to walk closer in the steps of Jesus. The\nChristian Endeavor Society had, with enthusiasm, in many churches\ntaken the pledge to do as Jesus would do, and the result was already\nmarked in a deeper spiritual life and a power in church influence\nthat was like a new birth for the members.\n\nAll this Dr. Bruce told his people simply and with a personal\ninterest that evidently led the way to the announcement which now\nfollowed. Felicia had listened to every word with strained\nattention. She sat there by the side of Rose, in contrast like fire\nbeside snow, although even Rose was alert and as excited as she\ncould be.\n\n\"Dear friends,\" he said, and for the first time since his prayer the\nemotion of the occasion was revealed in his voice and gesture, \"I am\ngoing to ask that Nazareth Avenue Church take the same pledge that\nRaymond Church has taken. I know what this will mean to you and me.\nIt will mean the complete change of very many habits. It will mean,\npossibly, social loss. It will mean very probably, in many cases,\nloss of money. It will mean suffering. It will mean what following\nJesus meant in the first century, and then it meant suffering, loss,\nhardship, separation from everything un-Christian. But what does\nfollowing Jesus mean? The test of discipleship is the same now as\nthen. Those of us who volunteer in this church to do as Jesus would\ndo, simply promise to walk in His steps as He gave us commandment.\"\n\nAgain he paused, and now the result of his announcement was plainly\nvisible in the stir that went up over the congregation. He added in\na quiet voice that all who volunteered to make the pledge to do as\nJesus would do, were asked to remain after the morning service.\n\nInstantly he proceeded with his sermon. His text was, \"Master, I\nwill follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest.\" It was a sermon that\ntouched the deep springs of conduct; it was a revelation to the\npeople of the definition their pastor had been learning; it took\nthem back to the first century of Christianity; above all, it\nstirred them below the conventional thought of years as to the\nmeaning and purpose of church membership. It was such a sermon as a\nman can preach once in a lifetime, and with enough in it for people\nto live on all through the rest of their lifetime.\n\nThe service closed in a hush that was slowly broken. People rose\nhere and there, a few at a time. There was a reluctance in the\nmovements of some that was very striking. Rose, however, walked\nstraight out of the pew, and as she reached the aisle she turned her\nhead and beckoned to Felicia. By that time the congregation was\nrising all over the church. \"I am going to stay,\" she said, and Rose\nhad heard her speak in the same manner on other occasions, and knew\nthat her resolve could not be changed. Nevertheless she went back\ninto the pew two or three steps and faced her.\n\n\"Felicia,\" she whispered, and there was a flush of anger on her\ncheeks, \"this is folly. What can you do? You will bring some\ndisgrace on the family. What will father say? Come!\"\n\nFelicia looked at her but did not answer at once. Her lips were\nmoving with a petition that came from the depth of feeling that\nmeasured a new life for her. She shocked her head.\n\n\"No, I am going to stay. I shall take the pledge. I am ready to obey\nit. You do not know why I am doing this.\"\n\nRose gave her one look and then turned and went out of the pew, and\ndown the aisle. She did not even stop to talk with her\nacquaintances. Mrs. Delano was going out of the church just as Rose\nstepped into the vestibule.\n\n\"So you are not going to join Dr. Bruce's volunteer company?\" Mrs.\nDelano asked, in a queer tone that made Rose redden.\n\n\"No, are you? It is simply absurd. I have always regarded that\nRaymond movement as fanatical. You know cousin Rachel keeps us\nposted about it.\"\n\n\"Yes, I understand it is resulting in a great deal of hardship in\nmany cases. For my part, I believe Dr. Bruce has simply provoked\ndisturbance here. It will result in splitting our church. You see if\nit isn't so. There are scores of people in the church who are so\nsituated that they can't take such a pledge and keep it. I am one of\nthem,\" added Mrs. Delano as she went out with Rose.\n\nWhen Rose reached home, her father was standing in his usual\nattitude before the open fireplace, smoking a cigar.\n\n\"Where is Felicia?\" he asked as Rose came in.\n\n\"She stayed to an after-meeting,\" replied Rose shortly. She threw\noff her wraps and was going upstairs when Mr. Sterling called after\nher.\n\n\"An after-meeting? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Dr. Bruce asked the church to take the Raymond pledge.\"\n\nMr. Sterling took his cigar out of his mouth and twirled it\nnervously between his fingers.\n\n\"I didn't expect that of Dr. Bruce. Did many of the members stay?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I didn't,\" replied Rose, and she went upstairs\nleaving her father standing in the drawing-room.\n\nAfter a few moments he went to the window and stood there looking\nout at the people driving on the boulevard. His cigar had gone out,\nbut he still fingered it nervously. Then he turned from the window\nand walked up and down the room. A servant stepped across the hall\nand announced dinner and he told her to wait for Felicia. Rose came\ndownstairs and went into the library. And still Mr. Sterling paced\nthe drawing-room restlessly.\n\nHe had finally wearied of the walking apparently, and throwing\nhimself into a chair was brooding over something deeply when Felicia\ncame in.\n\nHe rose and faced her. Felicia was evidently very much moved by the\nmeeting from which she had just come. At the same time she did not\nwish to talk too much about it. Just as she entered the\ndrawing-room, Rose came in from the library.\n\n\"How many stayed?\" she asked. Rose was curious. At the same time she\nwas skeptical of the whole movement in Raymond.\n\n\"About a hundred,\" replied Felicia gravely. Mr. Sterling looked\nsurprised. Felicia was going out of the room, but he called to her:\n\"Do you really mean to keep the pledge?\" he asked.\n\nFelicia colored. Over her face and neck the warm blood flowed and\nshe answered, \"You would not ask such a question, father, if you had\nbeen at the meeting.\" She lingered a moment in the room, then asked\nto be excused from dinner for a while and went up to see her mother.\n\nNo one but they two ever knew what that interview between Felicia\nand her mother was. It is certain that she must have told her mother\nsomething of the spiritual power that had awed every person present\nin the company of disciples who faced Dr. Bruce in that meeting\nafter the morning service. It is also certain that Felicia had never\nbefore known such an experience, and would never have thought of\nsharing it with her mother if it had not been for the prayer the\nevening before. Another fact is also known of Felicia's experience\nat this time. When she finally joined her father and Rose at the\ntable she seemed unable to tell them much about the meeting. There\nwas a reluctance to speak of it as one might hesitate to attempt a\ndescription of a wonderful sunset to a person who never talked about\nanything but the weather.\n\nWhen that Sunday in the Sterling mansion was drawing to a close and\nthe soft, warm lights throughout the dwelling were glowing through\nthe great windows, in a corner of her room, where the light was\nobscure, Felicia kneeled, and when she raised her face and turned it\ntowards the light, it was the face of a woman who had already\ndefined for herself the greatest issues of earthly life.\n\nThat same evening, after the Sunday evening service, Dr. Bruce was\ntalking over the events of the day with his wife. They were of one\nheart and mind in the matter, and faced their new future with all\nthe faith and courage of new disciples. Neither was deceived as to\nthe probable results of the pledge to themselves or to the church.\n\nThey had been talking but a little while when the bell rang and Dr.\nBruce going to the door exclaimed, as he opened it: \"It is you,\nEdward! Come in.\"\n\nThere came into the hall a commanding figure. The Bishop was of\nextraordinary height and breadth of shoulder, but of such good\nproportions that there was no thought of ungainly or even of unusual\nsize. The impression the Bishop made on strangers was, first, that\nof great health, and then of great affection.\n\nHe came into the parlor and greeted Mrs. Bruce, who after a few\nmoments was called out of the room, leaving the two men together.\nThe Bishop sat in a deep, easy chair before the open fire. There was\njust enough dampness in the early spring of the year to make an open\nfire pleasant.\n\n\"Calvin, you have taken a very serious step today,\" he finally said,\nlifting his large dark eyes to his old college classmate's face. \"I\nheard of it this afternoon. I could not resist the desire to see you\nabout it tonight.\"\n\n\"I'm glad you came.\" Dr. Bruce laid a hand on the Bishop's shoulder.\n\"You understand what this means, Edward?\"\n\n\"I think I do. Yes, I am sure.\" The Bishop spoke very slowly and\nthoughtfully. He sat with his hands clasped together. Over his face,\nmarked with lines of consecration and service and the love of men, a\nshadow crept, a shadow not caused by the firelight. Once more he\nlifted his eyes toward his old friend.\n\n\"Calvin, we have always understood each other. Ever since our paths\nled us in different ways in church life we have walked together in\nChristian fellowship--.\"\n\n\"It is true,\" replied Dr. Bruce with an emotion he made no attempt\nto conceal or subdue. \"Thank God for it. I prize your fellowship\nmore than any other man's. I have always known what it meant, though\nit has always been more than I deserve.\"\n\nThe Bishop looked affectionately at his friend. But the shadow still\nrested on his face. After a pause he spoke again: \"The new\ndiscipleship means a crisis for you in your work. If you keep this\npledge to do all things as Jesus would do--as I know you will--it\nrequires no prophet to predict some remarkable changes in your\nparish.\" The Bishop looked wistfully at his friend and then\ncontinued: \"In fact, I do not see how a perfect upheaval of\nChristianity, as we now know it, can be prevented if the ministers\nand churches generally take the Raymond pledge and live it out.\" He\npaused as if he were waiting for his friend to say something, to ask\nsome question. But Bruce did not know of the fire that was burning\nin the Bishop's heart over the very question that Maxwell and\nhimself had fought out.\n\n\"Now, in my church, for instance,\" continued the Bishop, \"it would\nbe rather a difficult matter, I fear, to find very many people who\nwould take a pledge like that and live up to it. Martyrdom is a lost\nart with us. Our Christianity loves its ease and comfort too well to\ntake up anything so rough and heavy as a cross. And yet what does\nfollowing Jesus mean? What is it to walk in His steps?\"\n\nThe Bishop was soliloquizing now and it is doubtful if he thought,\nfor the moment, of his friend's presence. For the first time there\nflashed into Dr. Bruce's mind a suspicion of the truth. What if the\nBishop would throw the weight of his great influence on the side of\nthe Raymond movement? He had the following of the most aristocratic,\nwealthy, fashionable people, not only in Chicago, but in several\nlarge cities. What if the Bishop should join this new discipleship!\n\nThe thought was about to be followed by the word. Dr. Bruce had\nreached out his hand and with the familiarity of lifelong friendship\nhad placed it on the Bishop's shoulder and was about to ask a very\nimportant question, when they were both startled by the violent\nringing of the bell. Mrs. Bruce had gone to the door and was talking\nwith some one in the hall. There was a loud exclamation and then, as\nthe Bishop rose and Bruce was stepping toward the curtain that hung\nbefore the entrance to the parlor, Mrs. Bruce pushed it aside. Her\nface was white and she was trembling.\n\n\"O Calvin! Such terrible news! Mr. Sterling--oh, I cannot tell it!\nWhat a blow to those girls!\" \"What is it?\" Mr. Bruce advanced with\nthe Bishop into the hall and confronted the messenger, a servant\nfrom the Sterlings. The man was without his hat and had evidently\nrun over with the news, as Dr. Bruce lived nearest of any intimate\nfriends of the family.\n\n\"Mr. Sterling shot himself, sir, a few minutes ago. He killed\nhimself in his bed-room. Mrs. Sterling--\"\n\n\"I will go right over, Edward. Will you go with me? The Sterlings\nare old friends of yours.\"'\n\nThe Bishop was very pale, but calm as always. He looked his friend\nin the face and answered: \"Aye, Calvin, I will go with you not only\nto this house of death, but also the whole way of human sin and\nsorrow, please God.\"\n\nAnd even in that moment of horror at the unexpected news, Dr. Bruce\nunderstood what the Bishop had promised to do.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-four\n\n\nThese are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth.\n\n\nWHEN Dr. Bruce and the Bishop entered the Sterling mansion\neverything in the usually well appointed household was in the\ngreatest confusion and terror. The great rooms downstairs were\nempty, but overhead were hurried footsteps and confused noises. One\nof the servants ran down the grand staircase with a look of horror\non her face just as the Bishop and Dr. Bruce were starting to go up.\n\n\"Miss Felicia is with Mrs. Sterling,\" the servant stammered in\nanswer to a question, and then burst into a hysterical cry and ran\nthrough the drawing-room and out of doors.\n\nAt the top of the staircase the two men were met by Felicia. She\nwalked up to Dr. Bruce at once and put both hands in his. The Bishop\nthen laid his hand on her head and the three stood there a moment in\nperfect silence. The Bishop had known Felicia since she was a little\nchild. He was the first to break the silence.\n\n\"The God of all mercy be with you, Felicia, in this dark hour. Your\nmother--\"\n\nThe Bishop hesitated. Out of the buried past he had, during his\nhurried passage from his friend's to this house of death,\nirresistibly drawn the one tender romance of his young manhood. Not\neven Bruce knew that. But there had been a time when the Bishop had\noffered the incense of a singularly undivided affection upon the\naltar of his youth to the beautiful Camilla Rolfe, and she had\nchosen between him and the millionaire. The Bishop carried no\nbitterness with his memory; but it was still a memory.\n\nFor answer to the Bishop's unfinished query, Felicia turned and went\nback into her mother's room. She had not said a word yet, but both\nmen were struck with her wonderful calm. She returned to the hall\ndoor and beckoned to them, and the two ministers, with a feeling\nthat they were about to behold something very unusual, entered.\n\nRose lay with her arms outstretched upon the bed. Clara, the nurse,\nsat with her head covered, sobbing in spasms of terror. And Mrs.\nSterling with \"the light that never was on sea or land\" luminous on\nher face, lay there so still that even the Bishop was deceived at\nfirst. Then, as the great truth broke upon him and Dr. Bruce, he\nstaggered, and the sharp agony of the old wound shot through him. It\npassed, and left him standing there in that chamber of death with\nthe eternal calmness and strength that the children of God have a\nright to possess. And right well he used that calmness and strength\nin the days that followed.\n\nThe next moment the house below was in a tumult. Almost at the same\ntime the doctor who had been sent for at once, but lived some\ndistance away, came in, together with police officers, who had been\nsummoned by frightened servants. With them were four or five\nnewspaper correspondents and several neighbors. Dr. Bruce and the\nBishop met this miscellaneous crowd at the head of the stairs and\nsucceeded in excluding all except those whose presence was\nnecessary. With these the two friends learned all the facts ever\nknown about the \"Sterling tragedy,\" as the papers in their\nsensational accounts next day called it.\n\nMr. Sterling had gone into his room that evening about nine o'clock\nand that was the last seen of him until, in half an hour, a shot was\nheard in the room, and a servant who was in the hall ran into the\nroom and found him dead on the floor, killed by his own hand.\nFelicia at the time was sitting by her mother. Rose was reading in\nthe library. She ran upstairs, saw her father as he was being lifted\nupon the couch by the servants, and then ran screaming into her\nmother's room, where she flung herself down at the foot of the bed\nin a swoon. Mrs. Sterling had at first fainted at the shock, then\nrallied with a wonderful swiftness and sent for Dr. Bruce. She had\nthen insisted on seeing her husband. In spite of Felicia's efforts,\nshe had compelled Clara to support her while she crossed the hall\nand entered the room where her husband lay. She had looked upon him\nwith a tearless face, had gone back to her own room, was laid on her\nbed, and as Dr. Bruce and the Bishop entered the house she, with a\nprayer of forgiveness for herself and for her husband on her\nquivering lips, had died, with Felicia bending over her and Rose\nstill lying senseless at her feet.\n\nSo great and swift had been the entrance of grim Death into that\npalace of luxury that Sunday night! But the full cause of his coming\nwas not learned until the facts in regard to Mr. Sterling's business\naffairs were finally disclosed.\n\nThen it was learned that for some time he had been facing financial\nruin owing to certain speculations that had in a month's time swept\nhis supposed wealth into complete destruction. With the cunning and\ndesperation of a man who battles for his very life when he saw his\nmoney, which was all the life he ever valued, slipping from him, he\nhad put off the evil day to the last moment. Sunday afternoon,\nhowever, he had received news that proved to him beyond a doubt the\nfact of his utter ruin. The very house that he called his, the\nchairs in which he sat, his carriage, the dishes from which he ate,\nhad all been bought with money for which he himself had never really\ndone an honest stroke of pure labor.\n\nIt had all rested on a tissue of deceit and speculation that had no\nfoundation in real values. He knew that fact better than any one\nelse, but he had hoped, with the hope such men always have, that the\nsame methods that brought him the money would also prevent the loss.\nHe had been deceived in this as many others have been. As soon as\nthe truth that he was practically a beggar had dawned upon him, he\nsaw no escape from suicide. It was the irresistible result of such a\nlife as he had lived. He had made money his god. As soon as that god\nwas gone out of his little world there was nothing more to worship;\nand when a man's object of worship is gone he has no more to live\nfor. Thus died the great millionaire, Charles R. Sterling. And,\nverily, he died as the fool dieth, for what is the gain or the loss\nof money compared with the unsearchable riches of eternal life which\nare beyond the reach of speculation, loss or change?\n\nMrs. Sterling's death was the result of the shock. She had not been\ntaken into her husband's confidence for years, but she knew that the\nsource of his wealth was precarious. Her life for several years had\nbeen a death in life. The Rolfes always gave an impression that they\ncould endure more disaster unmoved than any one else. Mrs. Sterling\nillustrated the old family tradition when she was carried into the\nroom where her husband lay. But the feeble tenement could not hold\nthe spirit and it gave up the ghost, torn and weakened by long years\nof suffering and disappointment.\n\nThe effect of this triple blow, the death of father and mother, and\nthe loss of property, was instantly apparent in the sisters. The\nhorror of events stupefied Rose for weeks. She lay unmoved by\nsympathy or any effort to rally. She did not seem yet to realize\nthat the money which had been so large a part of her very existence\nwas gone. Even when she was told that she and Felicia must leave the\nhouse and be dependent on relatives and friends, she did not seem to\nunderstand what it meant.\n\nFelicia, however, was fully conscious of the facts. She knew just\nwhat had happened and why. She was talking over her future plans\nwith her cousin Rachel a few days after the funerals. Mrs. Winslow\nand Rachel had left Raymond and come to Chicago at once as soon as\nthe terrible news had reached them, and with other friends of the\nfamily were planning for the future of Rose and Felicia.\n\n\"Felicia, you and Rose must come to Raymond with us. That is\nsettled. Mother will not hear to any other plan at present,\" Rachel\nhad said, while her beautiful face glowed with love for her cousin,\na love that had deepened day by day, and was intensified by the\nknowledge that they both belonged to the new discipleship.\n\n\"Unless I can find something to do here,\" answered Felicia. She\nlooked wistfully at Rachel, and Rachel said gently:\n\n\"What could you do, dear?\"\n\n\"Nothing. I was never taught to do anything except a little music,\nand I do not know enough about it to teach it or earn my living at\nit. I have learned to cook a little,\" Felicia added with a slight\nsmile.\n\n\"Then you can cook for us. Mother is always having trouble with her\nkitchen,\" said Rachel, understanding well enough she was now\ndependent for her very food and shelter upon the kindness of family\nfriends. It is true the girls received a little something out of the\nwreck of their father's fortune, but with a speculator's mad folly\nhe had managed to involve both his wife's and his children's portion\nin the common ruin.\n\n\"Can I? Can I?\" Felicia responded to Rachel's proposition as if it\nwere to be considered seriously. \"I am ready to do anything\nhonorable to make my living and that of Rose. Poor Rose! She will\nnever be able to get over the shock of our trouble.\"\n\n\"We will arrange the details when we get to Raymond,\" Rachel said,\nsmiling through her tears at Felicia's eager willingness to care for\nherself.\n\nSo in a few weeks Rose and Felicia found themselves a part of the\nWinslow family in Raymond. It was a bitter experience for Rose, but\nthere was nothing else for her to do and she accepted the\ninevitable, brooding over the great change in her life and in many\nways adding to the burden of Felicia and her cousin Rachel.\n\nFelicia at once found herself in an atmosphere of discipleship that\nwas like heaven to her in its revelation of companionship. It is\ntrue that Mrs. Winslow was not in sympathy with the course that\nRachel was taking, but the remarkable events in Raymond since the\npledge was taken were too powerful in their results not to impress\neven such a woman as Mrs. Winslow. With Rachel, Felicia found a\nperfect fellowship. She at once found a part to take in the new work\nat the Rectangle. In the spirit of her new life she insisted upon\nhelping in the housework at her aunt's, and in a short time\ndemonstrated her ability as a cook so clearly that Virginia\nsuggested that she take charge of the cooking at the Rectangle.\n\nFelicia entered upon this work with the keenest pleasure. For the\nfirst time in her life she had the delight of doing something of\nvalue for the happiness of others. Her resolve to do everything\nafter asking, \"What would Jesus do?\" touched her deepest nature. She\nbegan to develop and strengthen wonderfully. Even Mrs. Winslow was\nobliged to acknowledge the great usefulness and beauty of Felicia's\ncharacter. The aunt looked with astonishment upon her niece, this\ncity-bred girl, reared in the greatest luxury, the daughter of a\nmillionaire, now walking around in her kitchen, her arms covered\nwith flour and occasionally a streak of it on her nose, for Felicia\nat first had a habit of rubbing her nose forgetfully when she was\ntrying to remember some recipe, mixing various dishes with the\ngreatest interest in their results, washing up pans and kettles and\ndoing the ordinary work of a servant in the Winslow kitchen and at\nthe rooms at the Rectangle Settlement. At first Mrs. Winslow\nremonstrated.\n\n\"Felicia, it is not your place to be out here doing this common\nwork. I cannot allow it.\"\n\n\"Why, Aunt? Don't you like the muffins I made this morning?\" Felicia\nwould ask meekly, but with a hidden smile, knowing her aunt's\nweakness for that kind of muffin.\n\n\"They were beautiful, Felicia. But it does not seem right for you to\nbe doing such work for us.\"\n\n\"Why not? What else can I do?\"\n\nHer aunt looked at her thoughtfully, noting her remarkable beauty of\nface and expression.\n\n\"You do not always intend to do this kind of work, Felicia?\"\n\n\"Maybe I shall. I have had a dream of opening an ideal cook shop in\nChicago or some large city and going around to the poor families in\nsome slum district like the Rectangle, teaching the mothers how to\nprepare food properly. I remember hearing Dr. Bruce say once that he\nbelieved one of the great miseries of comparative poverty consisted\nin poor food. He even went so far as to say that he thought some\nkinds of crime could be traced to soggy biscuit and tough beefsteak.\nI'm sure I would be able to make a living for Rose and myself and at\nthe same time help others.\"\n\nFelicia brooded over this dream until it became a reality. Meanwhile\nshe grew into the affections of the Raymond people and the Rectangle\nfolks, among whom she was known as the \"angel cook.\" Underneath the\nstructure of the beautiful character she was growing, always rested\nher promise made in Nazareth Avenue Church. \"What would Jesus do?\" She\nprayed and hoped and worked and regulated her life by the answer to\nthat question. It was the inspiration of her conduct and the answer to\nall her ambition.\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-five\n\n\nTHREE months had gone by since the Sunday morning when Dr. Bruce\ncame into his pulpit with the message of the new discipleship. They\nwere three months of great excitement in Nazareth Avenue Church.\nNever before had Rev. Calvin Bruce realized how deep the feeling of\nhis members flowed. He humbly confessed that the appeal he had made\nmet with an unexpected response from men and women who, like\nFelicia, were hungry for something in their lives that the\nconventional type of church membership and fellowship had failed to\ngive them.\n\nBut Dr. Bruce was not yet satisfied for himself. He cannot tell what\nhis feeling was or what led to the movement he finally made, to the\ngreat astonishment of all who knew him, better than by relating a\nconversation between him and the Bishop at this time in the history\nof the pledge in Nazareth Avenue Church. The two friends were as\nbefore in Dr. Bruce's house, seated in his study.\n\n\"You know what I have come in this evening for?\" the Bishop was\nsaying after the friends had been talking some time about the\nresults of the pledge with the Nazareth Avenue people.\n\nDr. Bruce looked over at the Bishop and shook his head.\n\n\"I have come to confess that I have not yet kept my promise to walk\nin His steps in the way that I believe I shall be obliged to if I\nsatisfy my thought of what it means to walk in His steps.\"\n\nDr. Bruce had risen and was pacing his study. The Bishop remained in\nthe deep easy chair with his hands clasped, but his eye burned with\nthe blow that belonged to him before he made some great resolve.\n\n\"Edward,\" Dr. Bruce spoke abruptly, \"I have not yet been able to\nsatisfy myself, either, in obeying my promise. But I have at last\ndecided on my course. In order to follow it I shall be obliged to\nresign from Nazareth Avenue Church.\"\n\n\"I knew you would,\" replied the Bishop quietly. \"And I came in this\nevening to say that I shall be obliged to do the same thing with my\ncharge.\"\n\nDr. Bruce turned and walked up to his friend. They were both\nlaboring under a repressed excitement.\n\n\"Is it necessary in your case?\" asked Bruce.\n\n\"Yes. Let me state my reasons. Probably they are the same as yours.\nIn fact, I am sure they are.\" The Bishop paused a moment, then went\non with increasing feeling:\n\n\"Calvin, you know how many years I have been doing the work of my\nposition, and you know something of the responsibility and care of\nit. I do not mean to say that my life has been free from\nburden-bearing or sorrow. But I have certainly led what the poor and\ndesperate of this sinful city would call a very comfortable, yes, a\nvery luxurious life. I have had a beautiful house to live in, the\nmost expensive food, clothing and physical pleasures. I have been\nable to go abroad at least a dozen times, and have enjoyed for years\nthe beautiful companionship of art and letters and music and all the\nrest, of the very best. I have never known what it meant to be\nwithout money or its equivalent. And I have been unable to silence\nthe question of late: 'What have I suffered for the sake of Christ?'\nPaul was told what great things he must suffer for the sake of his\nLord. Maxwell's position at Raymond is well taken when he insists\nthat to walk in the steps of Christ means to suffer. Where has my\nsuffering come in? The petty trials and annoyances of my clerical\nlife are not worth mentioning as sorrows or sufferings. Compared\nwith Paul or any of the Christian martyrs or early disciples I have\nlived a luxurious, sinful life, full of ease and pleasure. I cannot\nendure this any longer. I have that within me which of late rises in\noverwhelming condemnation of such a following of Jesus. I have not\nbeen walking in His steps. Under the present system of church and\nsocial life I see no escape from this condemnation except to give\nthe most of my life personally to the actual physical and soul needs\nof the wretched people in the worst part of this city.\"\n\nThe Bishop had risen now and walked over to the window. The street\nin front of the house was as light as day, and he looked out at the\ncrowds passing, then turned and with a passionate utterance that\nshowed how deep the volcanic fire in him burned, he exclaimed:\n\n\"Calvin, this is a terrible city in which we live! Its misery, its\nsin, its selfishness, appall my heart. And I have struggled for\nyears with the sickening dread of the time when I should be forced\nto leave the pleasant luxury of my official position to put my life\ninto contact with the modern paganism of this century. The awful\ncondition of the girls in some great business places, the brutal\nselfishness of the insolent society fashion and wealth that ignores\nall the sorrow of the city, the fearful curse of the drink and\ngambling hell, the wail of the unemployed, the hatred of the church\nby countless men who see in it only great piles of costly stone and\nupholstered furniture and the minister as a luxurious idler, all the\nvast tumult of this vast torrent of humanity with its false and its\ntrue ideas, its exaggeration of evils in the church and its\nbitterness and shame that are the result of many complex causes, all\nthis as a total fact in its contrast with the easy, comfortable life\nI have lived, fills me more and more with a sense of mingled terror\nand self accusation. I have heard the words of Jesus many times\nlately: 'Inasmuch as ye did it not unto one of these least My\nbrethren, ye did it not unto Me.' And when have I personally visited\nthe prisoner or the desperate or the sinful in any way that has\nactually caused me suffering? Rather, I have followed the\nconventional soft habits of my position and have lived in the\nsociety of the rich, refined, aristocratic members of my\ncongregations. Where has the suffering come in? What have I suffered\nfor Jesus' sake? Do you know, Calvin,\" he turned abruptly toward his\nfriend, \"I have been tempted of late to lash myself with a scourge.\nIf I had lived in Martin Luther's time I should have bared my back\nto a self-inflicted torture.\"\n\nDr. Bruce was very pale. Never had he seen the Bishop or heard him\nwhen under the influence of such a passion. There was a sudden\nsilence in the room. The Bishop sat down again and bowed his head.\n\nDr. Bruce spoke at last: \"Edward, I do not need to say that you have\nexpressed my feelings also. I have been in a similar position for\nyears. My life has been one of comparative luxury. I do not, of\ncourse, mean to say that I have not had trials and discouragements\nand burdens in my church ministry. But I cannot say that I have\nsuffered any for Jesus. That verse in Peter constantly haunts me:\n'Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that ye should\nfollow His steps.' I have lived in luxury. I do not know what it\nmeans to want. I also have had my leisure for travel and beautiful\ncompanionship. I have been surrounded by the soft, easy comforts of\ncivilization. The sin and misery of this great city have beaten like\nwaves against the stone walls of my church and of this house in\nwhich I live, and I have hardly heeded them, the walls have been so\nthick. I have reached a point where I cannot endure this any longer.\nI am not condemning the Church. I love her. I am not forsaking the\nChurch. I believe in her mission and have no desire to destroy.\nLeast of all, in the step I am about to take do I desire to be\ncharged with abandoning the Christian fellowship. But I feel that I\nmust resign my place as pastor of Nazareth Church in order to\nsatisfy myself that I am walking as I ought to walk in His steps. In\nthis action I judge no other minister and pass no criticism on\nothers' discipleship. But I feel as you do. Into a close contact\nwith the sin and shame and degradation of this great city I must\ncome personally. And I know that to do that I must sever my\nimmediate connection with Nazareth Avenue Church. I do not see any\nother way for myself to suffer for His sake as I feel that I ought\nto suffer.\"\n\nAgain that sudden silence fell over those two men. It was no\nordinary action they were deciding. They had both reached the same\nconclusion by the same reasoning, and they were too thoughtful, too\nwell accustomed to the measuring of conduct, to underestimate the\nseriousness of their position.\n\n\"What is your plan?\" The Bishop at last spoke gently, looking with\nthe smile that always beautified his face. The Bishop's face grew in\nglory now every day.\n\n\"My plan,\" replied Dr. Bruce slowly, \"is, in brief, the putting of\nmyself into the centre of the greatest human need I can find in this\ncity and living there. My wife is fully in accord with me. We have\nalready decided to find a residence in that part of the city where\nwe can make our personal lives count for the most.\"\n\n\"Let me suggest a place.\" The Bishop was on fire now. His fine face\nactually glowed with the enthusiasm of the movement in which he and\nhis friend were inevitably embarked. He went on and unfolded a plan\nof such far-reaching power and possibility that Dr. Bruce, capable\nand experienced as he was, felt amazed at the vision of a greater\nsoul than his own.\n\nThey sat up late, and were as eager and even glad as if they were\nplanning for a trip together to some rare land of unexplored travel.\nIndeed, the Bishop said many times afterward that the moment his\ndecision was reached to live the life of personal sacrifice he had\nchosen he suddenly felt an uplifting as if a great burden were taken\nfrom him. He was exultant. So was Dr. Bruce from the same cause.\n\nTheir plan as it finally grew into a workable fact was in reality\nnothing more than the renting of a large building formerly used as a\nwarehouse for a brewery, reconstructing it and living in it\nthemselves in the very heart of a territory where the saloon ruled\nwith power, where the tenement was its filthiest, where vice and\nignorance and shame and poverty were congested into hideous forms.\nIt was not a new idea. It was an idea started by Jesus Christ when\nHe left His Father's House and forsook the riches that were His in\norder to get nearer humanity and, by becoming a part of its sin,\nhelping to draw humanity apart from its sin. The University\nSettlement idea is not modern. It is as old as Bethlehem and\nNazareth. And in this particular case it was the nearest approach to\nanything that would satisfy the hunger of these two men to suffer\nfor Christ.\n\nThere had sprung up in them at the same time a longing that amounted\nto a passion, to get nearer the great physical poverty and spiritual\ndestitution of the mighty city that throbbed around them. How could\nthey do this except as they became a part of it as nearly as one man\ncan become a part of another's misery? Where was the suffering to\ncome in unless there was an actual self-denial of some sort? And\nwhat was to make that self-denial apparent to themselves or any one\nelse, unless it took this concrete, actual, personal form of trying\nto share the deepest suffering and sin of the city?\n\nSo they reasoned for themselves, not judging others. They were\nsimply keeping their own pledge to do as Jesus would do, as they\nhonestly judged He would do. That was what they had promised. How\ncould they quarrel with the result if they were irresistibly\ncompelled to do what they were planning to do?\n\nThe Bishop had money of his own. Every one in Chicago knew that he had\na handsome fortune. Dr. Bruce had acquired and saved by literary work\ncarried on in connection with his parish duties more than a comfortable\ncompetence. This money, a large part of it, the two friends agreed\nto put at once into the work, most of it into the furnishing of the\nSettlement House.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-six\n\n\nMEANWHILE, Nazareth Avenue Church was experiencing something never\nknown before in all its history. The simple appeal on the part of\nits pastor to his members to do as Jesus would do had created a\nsensation that still continued. The result of that appeal was very\nmuch the same as in Henry Maxwell's church in Raymond, only this\nchurch was far more aristocratic, wealthy and conventional.\nNevertheless when, one Sunday morning in early summer, Dr. Bruce\ncame into his pulpit and announced his resignation, the sensation\ndeepened all over the city, although he had advised with his board\nof trustees, and the movement he intended was not a matter of\nsurprise to them. But when it become publicly known that the Bishop\nhad also announced his resignation and retirement from the position\nhe had held so long, in order to go and live himself in the centre\nof the worst part of Chicago, the public astonishment reached its\nheight.\n\n\"But why?\" the Bishop replied to one valued friend who had almost\nwith tears tried to dissuade him from his purpose. \"Why should what\nDr. Bruce and I propose to do seem so remarkable a thing, as if it\nwere unheard of that a Doctor of Divinity and a Bishop should want\nto save lost souls in this particular manner? If we were to resign\nour charge for the purpose of going to Bombay or Hong Kong or any\nplace in Africa, the churches and the people would exclaim at the\nheroism of missions. Why should it seem so great a thing if we have\nbeen led to give our lives to help rescue the heathen and the lost\nof our own city in the way we are going to try it? Is it then such a\ntremendous event that two Christian ministers should be not only\nwilling but eager to live close to the misery of the world in order\nto know it and realize it? Is it such a rare thing that love of\nhumanity should find this particular form of expression in the\nrescue of souls?\"\n\nAnd however the Bishop may have satisfied himself that there ought\nto be nothing so remarkable about it at all, the public continued to\ntalk and the churches to record their astonishment that two such\nmen, so prominent in the ministry, should leave their comfortable\nhomes, voluntarily resign their pleasant social positions and enter\nupon a life of hardship, of self-denial and actual suffering.\nChristian America! Is it a reproach on the form of our discipleship\nthat the exhibition of actual suffering for Jesus on the part of\nthose who walk in His steps always provokes astonishment as at the\nsight of something very unusual?\n\nNazareth Avenue Church parted from its pastor with regret for the\nmost part, although the regret was modified with a feeling of relief\non the part of those who had refused to take the pledge. Dr. Bruce\ncarried with him the respect of men who, entangled in business in\nsuch a way that obedience to the pledge would have ruined them,\nstill held in their deeper, better natures a genuine admiration for\ncourage and consistency. They had known Dr. Bruce many years as a\nkindly, conservative, safe man, but the thought of him in the light\nof sacrifice of this sort was not familiar to them. As fast as they\nunderstood it, they gave their pastor the credit of being absolutely\ntrue to his recent convictions as to what following Jesus meant.\nNazareth Avenue Church never lost the impulse of that movement\nstarted by Dr. Bruce. Those who went with him in making the promise\nbreathed into the church the very breath of divine life, and are\ncontinuing that life-giving work at this present time.\n\n      *      *      *      *      *\n\nIt was fall again, and the city faced another hard winter. The\nBishop one afternoon came out of the Settlement and walked around\nthe block, intending to go on a visit to one of his new friends in\nthe district. He had walked about four blocks when he was attracted\nby a shop that looked different from the others. The neighborhood\nwas still quite new to him, and every day he discovered some strange\nspot or stumbled upon some unexpected humanity.\n\nThe place that attracted his notice was a small house close by a\nChinese laundry. There were two windows in the front, very clean,\nand that was remarkable to begin with. Then, inside the window, was\na tempting display of cookery, with prices attached to the various\narticles that made him wonder somewhat, for he was familiar by this\ntime with many facts in the life of the people once unknown to him.\nAs he stood looking at the windows, the door between them opened and\nFelicia Sterling came out.\n\n\"Felicia!\" exclaimed the Bishop. \"When did you move into my parish\nwithout my knowledge?\"\n\n\"How did you find me so soon?\" inquired Felicia.\n\n\"Why, don't you know? These are the only clean windows in the\nblock.\"\n\n\"I believe they are,\" replied Felicia with a laugh that did the\nBishop good to hear.\n\n\"But why have you dared to come to Chicago without telling me, and\nhow have you entered my diocese without my knowledge?\" asked the\nBishop. And Felicia looked so like that beautiful, clean, educated,\nrefined world he once knew, that he might be pardoned for seeing in\nher something of the old Paradise. Although, to speak truth for him,\nhe had no desire to go back to it.\n\n\"Well, dear Bishop,\" said Felicia, who had always called him so, \"I\nknew how overwhelmed you were with your work. I did not want to\nburden you with my plans. And besides, I am going to offer you my\nservices. Indeed, I was just on my way to see you and ask your\nadvice. I am settled here for the present with Mrs. Bascom, a\nsaleswoman who rents our three rooms, and with one of Rachel's music\npupils who is being helped to a course in violin by Virginia Page.\nShe is from the people,\" continued Felicia, using the words \"from\nthe people\" so gravely and unconsciously that her hearer smiled,\n\"and I am keeping house for her and at the same time beginning an\nexperiment in pure food for the masses. I am an expert and I have a\nplan I want you to admire and develop. Will you, dear Bishop?\"\n\n\"Indeed I will,\" he replied. The sight of Felicia and her remarkable\nvitality, enthusiasm and evident purpose almost bewildered him.\n\n\"Martha can help at the Settlement with her violin and I will help\nwith my messes. You see, I thought I would get settled first and\nwork out something, and then come with some real thing to offer. I'm\nable to earn my own living now.\"\n\n\"You are?\" the Bishop said a little incredulously. \"How? Making\nthose things?\"\n\n\"Those things!\" said Felicia with a show of indignation. \"I would\nhave you know, sir, that 'those things' are the best-cooked, purest\nfood products in this whole city.\"\n\n\"I don't doubt it,\" he replied hastily, while his eyes twinkled,\n\"Still, 'the proof of the pudding'--you know the rest.\"\n\n\"Come in and try some!\" she exclaimed. \"You poor Bishop! You look as\nif you hadn't had a good meal for a month.\"\n\nShe insisted on his entering the little front room where Martha, a\nwide-awake girl with short, curly hair, and an unmistakable air of\nmusic about her, was busy with practice.\n\n\"Go right on, Martha. This is the Bishop. You have heard me speak of\nhim so often. Sit down there and let me give you a taste of the\nfleshpots of Egypt, for I believe you have been actually fasting.\"\n\nSo they had an improvised lunch, and the Bishop who, to tell the\ntruth, had not taken time for weeks to enjoy his meals, feasted on\nthe delight of his unexpected discovery and was able to express his\nastonishment and gratification at the quality of the cookery.\n\n\"I thought you would at least say it is as good as the meals you\nused to get at the Auditorium at the big banquets,\" said Felicia\nslyly.\n\n\"As good as! The Auditorium banquets were simply husks compared with\nthis one, Felicia. But you must come to the Settlement. I want you\nto see what we are doing. And I am simply astonished to find you\nhere earning your living this way. I begin to see what your plan is.\nYou can be of infinite help to us. You don't really mean that you\nwill live here and help these people to know the value of good\nfood?\"\n\n\"Indeed I do,\" she answered gravely. \"That is my gospel. Shall I not\nfollow it?\"\n\n\"Aye, Aye! You're right. Bless God for sense like yours! When I left\nthe world,\" the Bishop smiled at the phrase, \"they were talking a\ngood deal about the 'new woman.' If you are one of them, I am a\nconvert right now and here.\"\n\n\"Flattery! Still is there no escape from it, even in the slums of\nChicago?\" Felicia laughed again. And the man's heart, heavy though\nit had grown during several months of vast sin-bearing, rejoiced to\nhear it! It sounded good. It was good. It belonged to God.\n\nFelicia wanted to visit the Settlement, and went back with him. She\nwas amazed at the results of what considerable money an a good deal\nof consecrated brains had done. As they walked through the building\nthey talked incessantly. She was the incarnation of vital\nenthusiasm, and he wondered at the exhibition of it as it bubbled up\nand sparkled over.\n\nThey went down into the basement and the Bishop pushed open a door\nfrom behind which came the sound of a carpenter's plane. It was a\nsmall but well equipped carpenter's shop. A young man with a paper\ncap on his head and clad in blouse and overalls was whistling and\ndriving the plane as he whistled. He looked up as the two entered,\nand took off his cap. As he did so, his little finger carried a\nsmall curling shaving up to his hair and it caught there.\n\n\"Miss Sterling, Mr. Stephen Clyde,\" said the Bishop. \"Clyde is one\nof our helpers here two afternoons in the week.\"\n\nJust then the bishop was called upstairs and he excused himself a\nmoment, leaving Felicia and the young carpenter together.\n\n\"We have met before,\" said Felicia looking at Clyde frankly.\n\n\"Yes, 'back in the world,' as the Bishop says,\" replied the young\nman, and his fingers trembled a little as they lay on the board he\nhad been planing.\n\n\"Yes.\" Felicia hesitated. \"I am very glad to see you.\"\n\n\"Are you?\" The flush of pleasure mounted to the young carpenter's\nforehead. \"You have had a great deal of trouble since--since--then,\"\nhe said, and then he was afraid he had wounded her, or called up\npainful memories. But she had lived over all that.\n\n\"Yes, and you also. How is it that you're working here?\"\n\n\"It is a long story, Miss Sterling. My father lost his money and I\nwas obliged to go to work. A very good thing for me. The Bishop says\nI ought to be very grateful. I am. I am very happy now. I learned\nthe trade, hoping some time to be of use, I am night clerk at one of\nthe hotels. That Sunday morning when you took the pledge at Nazareth\nAvenue Church, I took it with the others.\"\n\n\"Did you?\" said Felicia slowly. \"I am glad.\"\n\nJust then the Bishop came back, and very soon he and Felicia went\naway leaving the young carpenter at his work. Some one noticed that\nhe whistled louder than ever as he planed.\n\n\"Felicia,\" said the Bishop, \"did you know Stephen Clyde before?\"\n\n\"Yes, 'back in the world,' dear Bishop. He was one of my\nacquaintances in Nazareth Avenue Church.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the Bishop.\n\n\"We were very good friends,\" added Felicia.\n\n\"But nothing more?\" the Bishop ventured to ask.\n\nFelicia's face glowed for an instant. Then she looked her companion\nin the eyes frankly and answered: \"Truly and truly, nothing more.\"\n\n\"It would be just the way of the world for these two people to come\nto like each other, though,\" thought the man to himself, and somehow\nthe thought made him grave. It was almost like the old pang over\nCamilla. But it passed, leaving him afterwards, when Felicia had\ngone back, with tears in his eyes and a feeling that was almost hope\nthat Felicia and Stephen would like each other. \"After all,\" he\nsaid, like the sensible, good man that he was, \"is not romance a\npart of humanity? Love is older than I am, and wiser.\"\n\nThe week following, the Bishop had an experience that belongs to\nthis part of the Settlement history. He was coming back to the\nSettlement very late from some gathering of the striking tailors,\nand was walking along with his hands behind him, when two men jumped\nout from behind an old fence that shut off an abandoned factory from\nthe street, and faced him. One of the men thrust a pistol in his\nface, and the other threatened him with a ragged stake that had\nevidently been torn from the fence.\n\n\"Hold up your hands, and be quick about it!\" said the man with the\npistol.\n\nThe place was solitary and the Bishop had no thought of resistance. He\ndid as he was commanded, and the man with the stake began to go through\nhis pockets. He was calm. His nerves did not quiver. As he stood there\nwith his hands uplifted, an ignorant spectator might have thought that\nhe was praying for the souls of these two men. And he was. And his\nprayer was singularly answered that very night.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-seven\n\n\n\"Righteousness shall go before him and shall set us in the way of\nhis steps.\"\n\n\nTHE Bishop was not in the habit of carrying much money with him, and\nthe man with the stake who was searching him uttered an oath at the\nsmall amount of change he found. As he uttered it, the man with the\npistol savagely said, \"Jerk out his watch! We might as well get all\nwe can out of the job!\"\n\nThe man with the stake was on the point of laying hold of the chain\nwhere there was a sound of footsteps coming towards him.\n\n\"Get behind the fence! We haven't half searched him yet! Mind you\nkeep shut now, if you don't want--\"\n\nThe man with the pistol made a significant gesture with it and, with\nhis companion, pulled and pushed the Bishop down the alley and\nthrough a ragged, broken opening in the fence. The three stood still\nthere in the shadow until the footsteps passed.\n\n\"Now, then, have you got the watch?\" asked the man with the pistol.\n\n\"No, the chain is caught somewhere!\" and the other man swore again.\n\n\"Break it then!\"\n\n\"No, don't break it,\" the Bishop said, and it was the first time he\nhad spoken. \"The chain is the gift of a very dear friend. I should\nbe sorry to have it broken.\"\n\nAt the sound of the Bishop's voice the man with the pistol started\nas if he had been suddenly shot by his own weapon. With a quick\nmovement of his other hand he turned the Bishop's head toward's what\nlittle light was shining from the alleyway, at the same time taking\na step nearer. Then, to the amazement of his companion, he said\nroughly: \"Leave the watch alone! We've got the money. That's\nenough!\"\n\n\"Enough! Fifty cents! You don't reckon--\"\n\nBefore the man with the stake could say another word he was\nconfronted with the muzzle of the pistol turned from the Bishop's\nhead towards his own.\n\n\"Leave that watch be! And put back the money too. This is the Bishop\nwe've held up--the Bishop--do you hear?\"\n\n\"And what of it! The President of the United States wouldn't be too\ngood to hold up, if--\"\n\n\"I say, you put the money back, or in five seconds I'll blow a hole\nthrough your head that'll let in more sense than you have to spare\nnow!\" said the other.\n\nFor a second the man with the stake seemed to hesitate at this\nstrange turn in events, as if measuring his companion's intention.\nThen he hastily dropped the money back into the rifled pocket.\n\n\"You can take your hands down, sir.\" The man lowered his weapon\nslowly, still keeping an eye on the other man, and speaking with\nrough respect. The Bishop slowly brought his arms to his side, and\nlooked earnestly at the two men. In the dim light it was difficult\nto distinguish features. He was evidently free to go his way now,\nbut he stood there making no movement.\n\n\"You can go on. You needn't stay any longer on our account.\" The man\nwho had acted as spokesman turned and sat down on a stone. The other\nman stood viciously digging his stake into the ground.\n\n\"That's just what I am staying for,\" replied the Bishop. He sat down\non a board that projected from the broken fence.\n\n\"You must like our company. It is hard sometimes for people to tear\nthemselves away from us,\" and the man standing up laughed coarsely.\n\n\"Shut up!\" exclaimed the other. \"We're on the road to hell, though,\nthat's sure enough. We need better company than ourselves and the\ndevil.\"\n\n\"If you would only allow me to be of any help,\" the Bishop spoke\ngently, even lovingly. The man on the stone stared at the Bishop\nthrough the darkness. After a moment of silence he spoke slowly like\none who had finally decided upon a course he had at first rejected.\n\n\"Do you remember ever seeing me before?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the Bishop. \"The light is not very good and I have really\nnot had a good look at you.\"\n\n\"Do you know me now?\" The man suddenly took off his hat and getting\nup from the stone walked over to the Bishop until they were near\nenough to touch each other.\n\nThe man's hair was coal black except one spot on the top of his head\nabout as large as the palm of the hand, which was white.\n\nThe minute the Bishop saw that, he started. The memory of fifteen\nyears ago began to stir in him. The man helped him.\n\n\"Don't you remember one day back in '81 or '82 a man came to your\nhouse and told a story about his wife and child having been burned\nto death in a tenement fire in New York?\"\n\n\"Yes, I begin to remember now.\" The other man seemed to be\ninterested. He ceased digging his stake in the ground and stood\nstill listening.\n\n\"Do you remember how you took me into your own house that night and\nspent all next day trying to find me a job? And how when you\nsucceeded in getting me a place in a warehouse as foreman, I\npromised to quit drinking because you asked me to?\"\n\n\"I remember it now. I hope you have kept your promise.\"\n\nThe man laughed savagely. Then he struck his hand against the fence\nwith such sudden passion that he drew blood.\n\n\"Kept it! I was drunk inside of a week! I've been drinking ever\nsince. But I've never forgotten you nor your prayer. Do you remember\nthe morning after I came to your house, after breakfast you had\nprayers and asked me to come in and sit with the rest? That got me!\nBut my mother used to pray! I can see her now kneeling down by my\nbed when I was a lad. Father came in one night and kicked her while\nshe was kneeling there by me. But I never forgot that prayer of\nyours that morning. You prayed for me just as mother used to, and\nyou didn't seem to take 'count of the fact that I was ragged and\ntough-looking and more than half drunk when I rang your door bell.\nOh, what a life I've lived! The saloon has housed me and homed me\nand made hell on earth for me. But that prayer stuck to me all the\ntime. My promise not to drink was broken into a thousand pieces\ninside of two Sundays, and I lost the job you found for me and\nlanded in a police station two days later, but I never forgot you\nnor your prayer. I don't know what good it has done me, but I never\nforgot it. And I won't do any harm to you nor let any one else. So\nyou're free to go. That's why.\"\n\nThe Bishop did not stir. Somewhere a church clock struck one. The\nman had put on his hat and gone back to his seat on the stone. The\nBishop was thinking hard.\n\n\"How long is it since you had work?\" he asked, and the man standing\nup answered for the other.\n\n\"More'n six months since either of us did anything to tell of;\nunless you count 'holding up' work. I call it pretty wearing kind of\na job myself, especially when we put in a night like this and don't\nmake nothin'.\"\n\n\"Suppose I found good jobs for both of you? Would you quit this and\nbegin all over?\"\n\n\"What's the use?\" the man on the stone spoke sullenly. \"I've\nreformed a hundred times. Every time I go down deeper. The devil's\nbegun to foreclose on me already. It's too late.\"\n\n\"No!\" said the Bishop. And never before the most entranced audience\nhad he felt the desire for souls burn up in him so strongly. All the\ntime he sat there during the remarkable scene he prayed, \"O Lord\nJesus, give me the souls of these two for Thee! I am hungry for\nthem. Give them to me!\"\n\n\"No!\" the Bishop repeated. \"What does God want of you two men? It\ndoesn't so much matter what I want. But He wants just what I do in\nthis case. You two men are of infinite value to Him.\" And then his\nwonderful memory came to his aid in an appeal such as no one on\nearth among men could make under such circumstances. He had\nremembered the man's name in spite of the wonderfully busy years\nthat lay between his coming to the house and the present moment.\n\n\"Burns,\" he said, and he yearned over the men with an unspeakable\nlonging for them both, \"if you and your friend here will go home\nwith me tonight I will find you both places of honorable employment.\nI will believe in you and trust you. You are both comparatively\nyoung men. Why should God lose you? It is a great thing to win the\nlove of the Great Father. It is a small thing that I should love\nyou. But if you need to feel again that there is love in the world,\nyou will believe me when I say, my brothers, that I love you, and in\nthe name of Him who was crucified for our sins I cannot bear to see\nyou miss the glory of the human life. Come, be men! Make another try\nfor it, God helping you. No one but God and you and myself need ever\nknow anything of this tonight. He has forgiven it the minute you ask\nHim to. You will find that true. Come! We'll fight it out together,\nyou two and I. It's worth fighting for, everlasting life is. It was\nthe sinner that Christ came to help. I'll do what I can for you. O\nGod, give me the souls of these two men!\" and he broke into a prayer\nto God that was a continuation of his appeal to the men. His pent-up\nfeeling had no other outlet. Before he had prayed many moments Burns\nwas sitting with his face buried in his hands, sobbing. Where were\nhis mother's prayers now? They were adding to the power of the\nBishop's. And the other man, harder, less moved, without a previous\nknowledge of the Bishop, leaned back against the fence, stolid at\nfirst. But as the prayer went on, he was moved by it. What force of\nthe Holy Spirit swept over his dulled, brutal, coarsened life,\nnothing but the eternal records of the recording angel can ever\ndisclose. But the same supernatural Presence that smote Paul on the\nroad to Damascus, and poured through Henry Maxwell's church the\nmorning he asked disciples to follow in Jesus' steps, and had again\nbroken irresistibly over the Nazareth Avenue congregation, now\nmanifested Himself in this foul corner of the mighty city and over\nthe natures of these two sinful sunken men, apparently lost to all\nthe pleadings of conscience and memory and God. The prayer seemed to\nred open the crust that for years had surrounded them and shut them\noff from divine communication. And they themselves were thoroughly\nstartled by it.\n\nThe Bishop ceased, and at first he himself did not realize what had\nhappened. Neither did they. Burns still sat with his head bowed\nbetween his knees. The man leaning against the fence looked at the\nBishop with a face in which new emotions of awe, repentance,\nastonishment and a broken gleam of joy struggled for expression. The\nBishop rose.\n\n\"Come, my brothers. God is good. You shall stay at the Settlement\ntonight, and I will make good my promise as to the work.\"\n\nThe two men followed him in silence. When they reached the\nSettlement it was after two o'clock. He let them in and led them to\na room. At the door he paused a moment. His tall, commanding figure\nstood in the doorway and his pale face was illuminated with the\ndivine glory.\n\n\"God bless you, my brothers!\" he said, and leaving them his\nbenediction he went away.\n\nIn the morning he almost dreaded to face the men. But the impression\nof the night had not worn away. True to his promise he secured work\nfor them. The janitor at the Settlement needed an assistant, owing to\nthe growth of the work there. So Burns was given the place. The Bishop\nsucceeded in getting his companion a position as driver for a firm\nof warehouse dray manufacturers not far from the Settlement. And the\nHoly Spirit, struggling in these two darkened sinful men, began His\nmarvelous work of regeneration.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-eight\n\n\nIT WAS the afternoon of that morning when Burns was installed in his\nnew position as assistant janitor that he was cleaning off the front\nsteps of the Settlement, when he paused a moment and stood up to\nlook about him. The first thing he noticed was a beer sign just\nacross the alley. He could almost touch it with his broom from where\nhe stood. Over the street immediately opposite were two large\nsaloons, and a little farther down were three more.\n\nSuddenly the door of the nearest saloon opened and a man came out.\nAt the same time two more went in. A strong odor of beer floated up\nto Burns as he stood on the steps. He clutched his broom handle\ntightly and began to sweep again. He had one foot on the porch and\nanother on the steps just below. He took another step down, still\nsweeping. The sweat stood on his forehead although the day was\nfrosty and the air chill. The saloon door opened again and three or\nfour men came out. A child went in with a pail, and came out a\nmoment later with a quart of beer. The child went by on the sidewalk\njust below him, and the odor of the beer came up to him. He took\nanother step down, still sweeping desperately. His fingers were\npurple as he clutched the handle of the broom.\n\nThen suddenly he pulled himself up one step and swept over the spot\nhe had just cleaned. He then dragged himself by a tremendous effort\nback to the floor of the porch and went over into the corner of it\nfarthest from the saloon and began to sweep there. \"O God!\" he\ncried, \"if the Bishop would only come back!\" The Bishop had gone out\nwith Dr. Bruce somewhere, and there was no one about that he knew.\nHe swept in the corner for two or three minutes. His face was drawn\nwith the agony of his conflict. Gradually he edged out again towards\nthe steps and began to go down them. He looked towards the sidewalk\nand saw that he had left one step unswept. The sight seemed to give\nhim a reasonable excuse for going down there to finish his sweeping.\n\nHe was on the sidewalk now, sweeping the last step, with his face\ntowards the Settlement and his back turned partly on the saloon\nacross the alley. He swept the step a dozen times. The sweat rolled\nover his face and dropped down at his feet. By degrees he felt that\nhe was drawn over towards that end of the step nearest the saloon.\nHe could smell the beer and rum now as the fumes rose around him. It\nwas like the infernal sulphur of the lowest hell, and yet it dragged\nhim as by a giant's hand nearer its source.\n\nHe was down in the middle of the sidewalk now, still sweeping. He\ncleared the space in front of the Settlement and even went out into\nthe gutter and swept that. He took off his hat and rubbed his sleeve\nover his face. His lips were pallid and his teeth chattered. He\ntrembled all over like a palsied man and staggered back and forth as\nif he was already drunk. His soul shook within him.\n\nHe had crossed over the little piece of stone flagging that measured\nthe width of the alley, and now he stood in front of the saloon,\nlooking at the sign, and staring into the window at the pile of\nwhiskey and beer bottles arranged in a great pyramid inside. He\nmoistened his lips with his tongue and took a step forward, looking\naround him stealthily. The door suddenly opened again and someone\ncame out. Again the hot, penetrating smell of liquor swept out into\nthe cold air, and he took another step towards the saloon door which\nhad shut behind the customer. As he laid his fingers on the door\nhandle, a tall figure came around the corner. It was the Bishop.\n\nHe seized Burns by the arm and dragged him back upon the sidewalk.\nThe frenzied man, now mad for a drink, shrieked out a curse and\nstruck at his friend savagely. It is doubtful if he really knew at\nfirst who was snatching him away from his ruin. The blow fell upon\nthe Bishop's face and cut a gash in his cheek. He never uttered a\nword. But over his face a look of majestic sorrow swept. He picked\nBurns up as if he had been a child and actually carried him up the\nsteps and into the house. He put him down in the hall and then shut\nthe door and put his back against it.\n\nBurns fell on his knees sobbing and praying. The Bishop stood there\npanting with his exertion, although Burns was a slightly-built man\nand had not been a great weight for a man of his strength to carry.\nHe was moved with unspeakable pity.\n\n\"Pray, Burns--pray as you never prayed before! Nothing else will\nsave you!\"\n\n\"O God! Pray with me. Save me! Oh, save me from my hell!\" cried\nBurns. And, the Bishop knelt by him in the hall and prayed as only\nhe could pray.\n\nAfter that they rose and Burns went to his room. He came out of it\nthat evening like a humble child. And the Bishop went his way older\nfrom that experience, bearing on his body the marks of the Lord\nJesus. Truly he was learning something of what it means to walk in\nHis steps.\n\nBut the saloon! It stood there, and all the others lined the street\nlike so many traps set for Burns. How long would the man be able to\nresist the smell of the damnable stuff? The Bishop went out on the\nporch. The air of the whole city seemed to be impregnated with the\nodor of beer. \"How long, O Lord, how long?\" he prayed. Dr. Bruce\ncame out, and the two friends talked about Burns and his temptation.\n\n\"Did you ever make any inquiries about the ownership of this\nproperty adjoining us?\" the Bishop asked.\n\n\"No, I haven't taken time for it. I will now if you think it would\nbe worth while. But what can we do, Edward, against the saloon in\nthis great city? It is as firmly established as the churches or\npolitics. What power can ever remove it?\"\n\n\"God will do it in time, as He has removed slavery,\" was the grave\nreply. \"Meanwhile I think we have a right to know who controls this\nsaloon so near the Settlement.\"\n\n\"I'll find out,\" said Dr. Bruce.\n\nTwo days later he walked into the business office of one of the\nmembers of Nazareth Avenue Church and asked to see him a few\nmoments. He was cordially received by his old parishioner, who\nwelcomed him into his room and urged him to take all the time he\nwanted.\n\n\"I called to see you about that property next the Settlement where\nthe Bishop and myself now are, you know. I am going to speak\nplainly, because life is too short and too serious for us both to\nhave any foolish hesitation about this matter. Clayton, do you think\nit is right to rent that property for a saloon?\"\n\nDr. Bruce's question was as direct and uncompromising as he had\nmeant it to be. The effect of it on his old parishioner was\ninstantaneous.\n\nThe hot blood mounted to the face of the man who sat there beneath a\npicture of business activity in a great city. Then he grew pale,\ndropped his head on his hands, and when he raised it again Dr. Bruce\nwas amazed to see a tear roll over his face.\n\n\"Doctor, did you know that I took the pledge that morning with the\nothers?\"\n\n\"Yes, I remember.\"\n\n\"But you never knew how I have been tormented over my failure to\nkeep it in this instance. That saloon property has been the\ntemptation of the devil to me. It is the best paying investment at\npresent that I have. And yet it was only a minute before you came in\nhere that I was in an agony of remorse to think how I was letting a\nlittle earthly gain tempt me into a denial of the very Christ I had\npromised to follow. I knew well enough that He would never rent\nproperty for such a purpose. There is no need, Dr. Bruce, for you to\nsay a word more.\"\n\nClayton held out his hand and Dr. Bruce grasped it and shook it\nhard. After a little he went away. But it was a long time afterwards\nthat he learned all the truth about the struggle that Clayton had\nknown. It was only a part of the history that belonged to Nazareth\nAvenue Church since that memorable morning when the Holy Spirit\nsanctioned the Christ-like pledge. Not even the Bishop and Dr.\nBruce, moving as they now did in the very presence itself of divine\nimpulses, knew yet that over the whole sinful city the Spirit was\nbrooding with mighty eagerness, waiting for the disciples to arise\nto the call of sacrifice and suffering, touching hearts long dull\nand cold, making business men and money-makers uneasy in their\nabsorption by the one great struggle for more wealth, and stirring\nthrough the church as never in all the city's history the church had\nbeen moved. The Bishop and Dr. Bruce had already seen some wonderful\nthings in their brief life at the Settlement. They were to see far\ngreater soon, more astonishing revelations of the divine power than\nthey had supposed possible in this age of the world.\n\nWithin a month the saloon next the Settlement was closed. The\nsaloon-keeper's lease had expired, and Clayton not only closed the\nproperty to the whiskey men, but offered the building to the Bishop\nand Dr. Bruce to use for the Settlement work, which had now grown so\nlarge that the building they had first rented was not sufficient for\nthe different industries that were planned.\n\nOne of the most important of these was the pure-food department\nsuggested by Felicia. It was not a month after Clayton turned the\nsaloon property over to the Settlement that Felicia found herself\ninstalled in the very room where souls had been lost, as head of the\ndepartment not only of cooking but of a course of housekeeping for\ngirls who wished to go out to service. She was now a resident of the\nSettlement, and found a home with Mrs. Bruce and the other young\nwomen from the city who were residents. Martha, the violinist,\nremained at the place where the Bishop had first discovered the two\ngirls, and came over to the Settlement certain evenings to give\nlessons in music.\n\n\"Felicia, tell us your plan in full now,\" said the Bishop one\nevening when, in a rare interval of rest from the great pressure of\nwork, he was with Dr. Bruce, and Felicia had come in from the other\nbuilding.\n\n\"Well, I have long thought of the hired girl problem,\" said Felicia\nwith an air of wisdom that made Mrs. Bruce smile as she looked at\nthe enthusiastic, vital beauty of this young girl, transformed into\na new creature by the promise she had made to live the Christ-like\nlife. \"And I have reached certain conclusions in regard to it that\nyou men are not yet able to fathom, but Mrs. Bruce will understand\nme.\"\n\n\"We acknowledge our infancy, Felicia. Go on,\" said the Bishop\nhumbly.\n\n\"Then this is what I propose to do. The old saloon building is large\nenough to arrange into a suite of rooms that will represent an\nordinary house. My plan is to have it so arranged, and then teach\nhousekeeping and cooking to girls who will afterwards go out to\nservice. The course will be six months' long; in that time I will\nteach plain cooking, neatness, quickness, and a love of good work.\"\n\n\"Hold on, Felicia!\" the Bishop interrupted, \"this is not an age of\nmiracles!\"\n\n\"Then we will make it one,\" replied Felicia. \"I know this seems like\nan impossibility, but I want to try it. I know a score of girls\nalready who will take the course, and if we can once establish\nsomething like an esprit de corps among the girls themselves, I am\nsure it will be of great value to them. I know already that the pure\nfood is working a revolution in many families.\"\n\n\"Felicia, if you can accomplish half what you propose it will bless\nthis community,\" said Mrs. Bruce. \"I don't see how you can do it,\nbut I say, God bless you, as you try.\"\n\n\"So say we all!\" cried Dr. Bruce and the Bishop, and Felicia plunged\ninto the working out of her plan with the enthusiasm of her\ndiscipleship which every day grew more and more practical and\nserviceable.\n\nIt must be said here that Felicia's plan succeeded beyond all\nexpectations. She developed wonderful powers of persuasion, and\ntaught her girls with astonishing rapidity to do all sorts of\nhousework. In time, the graduates of Felicia's cooking school came\nto be prized by housekeepers all over the city. But that is\nanticipating our story. The history of the Settlement has never yet\nbeen written. When it is Felicia's part will be found of very great\nimportance.\n\nThe depth of winter found Chicago presenting, as every great city of\nthe world presents to the eyes of Christendom the marked contrast\nbetween riches and poverty, between culture, refinement, luxury,\nease, and ignorance, depravity, destitution and the bitter struggle\nfor bread. It was a hard winter but a gay winter. Never had there\nbeen such a succession of parties, receptions, balls, dinners,\nbanquets, fetes, gayeties. Never had the opera and the theatre been\nso crowded with fashionable audiences. Never had there been such a\nlavish display of jewels and fine dresses and equipages. And on the\nother hand, never had the deep want and suffering been so cruel, so\nsharp, so murderous. Never had the winds blown so chilling over the\nlake and through the thin shells of tenements in the neighborhood of\nthe Settlement. Never had the pressure for food and fuel and clothes\nbeen so urgently thrust up against the people of the city in their\nmost importunate and ghastly form. Night after night the Bishop and\nDr. Bruce with their helpers went out and helped save men and women\nand children from the torture of physical privation. Vast quantities\nof food and clothing and large sums of money were donated by the\nchurches, the charitable societies, the civic authorities and the\nbenevolent associations. But the personal touch of the Christian\ndisciple was very hard to secure for personal work. Where was the\ndiscipleship that was obeying the Master's command to go itself to\nthe suffering and give itself with its gift in order to make the\ngift of value in time to come? The Bishop found his heart sing\nwithin him as he faced this fact more than any other. Men would give\nmoney who would not think of giving themselves. And the money they\ngave did not represent any real sacrifice because they did not miss\nit. They gave what was the easiest to give, what hurt them the\nleast. Where did the sacrifice come in? Was this following Jesus?\nWas this going with Him all the way? He had been to members of his\nown aristocratic, splendidly wealthy congregations, and was appalled\nto find how few men and women of that luxurious class in the\nchurches would really suffer any genuine inconvenience for the sake\nof suffering humanity. Is charity the giving of worn-out garments?\nIs it a ten-dollar bill given to a paid visitor or secretary of some\nbenevolent organization in the church? Shall the man never go and\ngive his gift himself? Shall the woman never deny herself her\nreception or her party or her musicale, and go and actually touch,\nherself, the foul, sinful sore of diseased humanity as it festers in\nthe great metropolis? Shall charity be conveniently and easily done\nthrough some organization? Is it possible to organize the affections\nso that love shall work disagreeable things by proxy?\n\nAll this the Bishop asked as he plunged deeper into the sin and\nsorrow of that bitter winter. He was bearing his cross with joy. But\nhe burned and fought within over the shifting of personal love by\nthe many upon the hearts of the few. And still, silently,\npowerfully, resistlessly, the Holy Spirit was moving through the\nchurches, even the aristocratic, wealthy, ease-loving members who\nshunned the terrors of the social problem as they would shun a\ncontagious disease.\n\nThis fact was impressed upon the Settlement workers in a startling way\none morning. Perhaps no incident of that winter shows more plainly how\nmuch of a momentum had already grown out of the movement of Nazareth\nAvenue Church and the action of Dr. Bruce and the Bishop that followed\nthe pledge to do as Jesus would do.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Twenty-nine\n\n\nTHE breakfast hour at the settlement was the one hour in the day\nwhen the whole family found a little breathing space to fellowship\ntogether. It was an hour of relaxation. There was a great deal of\ngood-natured repartee and much real wit and enjoyable fun at this\nhour. The Bishop told his best stories. Dr. Bruce was at his best in\nanecdote. This company of disciples was healthily humorous in spite\nof the atmosphere of sorrow that constantly surrounded them. In\nfact, the Bishop often said the faculty of humor was as God-given as\nany other and in his own case it was the only safety valve he had\nfor the tremendous pressure put upon him.\n\nThis particular morning he was reading extracts from a morning paper\nfor the benefit of the others. Suddenly he paused and his face\ninstantly grew stern and sad. The rest looked up and a hush fell\nover the table.\n\n\"Shot and killed while taking a lump of coal from a car! His family\nwas freezing and he had had no work for six months. Six children and\na wife all packed into a cabin with three rooms, on the West Side.\nOne child wrapped in rags in a closet!\"\n\nThese were headlines that he read slowly. He then went on and read\nthe detailed account of the shooting and the visit of the reporter\nto the tenement where the family lived. He finished, and there was\nsilence around the table. The humor of the hour was swept out of\nexistence by this bit of human tragedy. The great city roared about\nthe Settlement. The awful current of human life was flowing in a\ngreat stream past the Settlement House, and those who had work were\nhurrying to it in a vast throng. But thousands were going down in\nthe midst of that current, clutching at last hopes, dying literally\nin a land of plenty because the boon of physical toil was denied\nthem.\n\nThere were various comments on the part of the residents. One of the\nnew-comers, a young man preparing for the ministry, said: \"Why don't\nthe man apply to one of the charity organizations for help? Or to\nthe city? It certainly is not true that even at its worst this city\nfull of Christian people would knowingly allow any one to go without\nfood or fuel.\"\n\n\"No, I don't believe it would,\" replied Dr. Bruce. \"But we don't\nknow the history of this man's case. He may have asked for help so\noften before that, finally, in a moment of desperation he determined\nto help himself. I have known such cases this winter.\"\n\n\"That is not the terrible fact in this case,\" said the Bishop. \"The\nawful thing about it is the fact that the man had not had any work\nfor six months.\"\n\n\"Why don't such people go out into the country?\" asked the divinity\nstudent.\n\nSome one at the table who had made a special study of the\nopportunities for work in the country answered the question.\nAccording to the investigator the places that were possible for work\nin the country were exceedingly few for steady employment, and in\nalmost every case they were offered only to men without families.\nSuppose a man's wife or children were ill. How would he move or get\ninto the country? How could he pay even the meager sum necessary to\nmove his few goods? There were a thousand reasons probably why this\nparticular man did not go elsewhere.\n\n\"Meanwhile there are the wife and children,\" said Mrs. Bruce. \"How\nawful! Where is the place, did you say?\"\n\n\"Why, it is only three blocks from here. This is the 'Penrose\ndistrict.' I believe Penrose himself owns half of the houses in that\nblock. They are among the worst houses in this part of the city. And\nPenrose is a church member.\"\n\n\"Yes, he belongs to the Nazareth Avenue Church,\" replied Dr. Bruce\nin a low voice.\n\nThe Bishop rose from the table the very figure of divine wrath. He\nhad opened his lips to say what seldom came from him in the way of\ndenunciation, when the bell rang and one of the residents went to\nthe door.\n\n\"Tell Dr. Bruce and the Bishop I want to see them. Penrose is the\nname--Clarence Penrose. Dr. Bruce knows me.\"\n\nThe family at the breakfast table heard every word. The Bishop\nexchanged a significant look with Dr. Bruce and the two men\ninstantly left the table and went out into the hall.\n\n\"Come in here, Penrose,\" said Dr. Bruce, and they ushered the\nvisitor into the reception room, closed the door and were alone.\n\nClarence Penrose was one of the most elegant looking men in Chicago.\nHe came from an aristocratic family of great wealth and social\ndistinction. He was exceedingly wealthy and had large property\nholdings in different parts of the city. He had been a member of Dr.\nBruce's church many years. He faced the two ministers with a look of\nagitation on his face that showed plainly the mark of some unusual\nexperience. He was very pale and his lips trembled as he spoke. When\nhad Clarence Penrose ever before yielded to such a strange emotion?\n\n\"This affair of the shooting! You understand? You have read it? The\nfamily lived in one of my houses. It is a terrible event. But that\nis not the primary cause of my visit.\" He stammered and looked\nanxiously into the faces of the two men. The Bishop still looked\nstern. He could not help feeling that this elegant man of leisure\ncould have done a great deal to alleviate the horrors in his\ntenements, possibly have prevented this tragedy if he had sacrificed\nsome of his personal ease and luxury to better the conditions of the\npeople in his district.\n\nPenrose turned toward Dr. Bruce. \"Doctor!\" he exclaimed, and there\nwas almost a child's terror in his voice. \"I came to say that I have\nhad an experience so unusual that nothing but the supernatural can\nexplain it. You remember I was one of those who took the pledge to\ndo as Jesus would do. I thought at the time, poor fool that I was,\nthat I had all along been doing the Christian thing. I gave\nliberally out of my abundance to the church and charity. I never\ngave myself to cost me any suffering. I have been living in a\nperfect hell of contradictions ever since I took that pledge. My\nlittle girl, Diana you remember, also took the pledge with me. She\nhas been asking me a great many questions lately about the poor\npeople and where they live. I was obliged to answer her. One of her\nquestions last night touched my sore! 'Do you own any houses where\nthese poor people live? Are they nice and warm like ours?' You know\nhow a child will ask questions like these. I went to bed tormented\nwith what I now know to be the divine arrows of conscience. I could\nnot sleep. I seemed to see the judgment day. I was placed before the\nJudge. I was asked to give an account of my deeds done in the body.\n'How many sinful souls had I visited in prison? What had I done with\nmy stewardship? How about those tenements where people froze in\nwinter and stifled in summer? Did I give any thought to them except\nto receive the rentals from them? Where did my suffering come in?\nWould Jesus have done as I had done and was doing? Had I broken my\npledge? How had I used the money and the culture and the social\ninfluence I possessed? Had I used it to bless humanity, to relieve\nthe suffering, to bring joy to the distressed and hope to the\ndesponding? I had received much. How much had I given?'\n\n\"All this came to me in a waking vision as distinctly as I see you\ntwo men and myself now. I was unable to see the end of the vision. I\nhad a confused picture in my mind of the suffering Christ pointing a\ncondemning finger at me, and the rest was shut out by mist and\ndarkness. I have not slept for twenty-four hours. The first thing I\nsaw this morning was the account of the shooting at the coal yards.\nI read the account with a feeling of horror I have not been able to\nshake off. I am a guilty creature before God.\"\n\nPenrose paused suddenly. The two men looked at him solemnly. What\npower of the Holy Spirit moved the soul of this hitherto\nself-satisfied, elegant, cultured man who belonged to the social\nlife that was accustomed to go its way placidly, unmindful of the\ngreat sorrows of a great city and practically ignorant of what it\nmeans to suffer for Jesus' sake? Into that room came a breath such\nas before swept over Henry Maxwell's church and through Nazareth\navenue. The Bishop laid his hand on the shoulder of Penrose and\nsaid: \"My brother, God has been very near to you. Let us thank Him.\"\n\n\"Yes! yes!\" sobbed Penrose. He sat down on a chair and covered his\nface. The Bishop prayed. Then Penrose quietly said: \"Will you go\nwith me to that house?\"\n\nFor answer the two men put on their overcoats and went with him to\nthe home of the dead man's family.\n\nThat was the beginning of a new and strange life for Clarence\nPenrose. From the moment he stepped into that wretched hovel of a\nhome and faced for the first time in his life a despair and\nsuffering such as he had read of but did not know by personal\ncontact, he dated a new life. It would be another long story to tell\nhow, in obedience to his pledge he began to do with his tenement\nproperty as he knew Jesus would do. What would Jesus do with\ntenement property if He owned it in Chicago or any other great city\nof the world? Any man who can imagine any true answers to this\nquestion can easily tell what Clarence Penrose began to do.\n\nNow before that winter reached its bitter climax many things\noccurred in the city which concerned the lives of all the characters\nin this history of the disciples who promised to walk in His steps.\n\nIt chanced by one of those coincidences that seem to occur\npreternaturally that one afternoon just as Felicia came out of the\nSettlement with a basket of food which she was going to leave as a\nsample with a baker in the Penrose district, Stephen Clyde opened\nthe door of the carpenter shop in the basement and came out in time\nto meet her as she reached the sidewalk.\n\n\"Let me carry your basket, please,\" he said.\n\n\"Why do you say 'please'?\" asked Felicia, handing over the basket\nwhile they walked along.\n\n\"I would like to say something else,\" replied Stephen, glancing at\nher shyly and yet with a boldness that frightened him, for he had\nbeen loving Felicia more every day since he first saw her and\nespecially since she stepped into the shop that day with the Bishop,\nand for weeks now they had been thrown in each other's company.\n\n\"What else?\" asked Felicia, innocently falling into the trap.\n\n\"Why--\" said Stephen, turning his fair, noble face full toward her\nand eyeing her with the look of one who would have the best of all\nthings in the universe, \"I would like to say: 'Let me carry your\nbasket, dear Felicia'.\"\n\nFelicia never looked so beautiful in her life. She walked on a\nlittle way without even turning her face toward him. It was no\nsecret with her own heart that she had given it to Stephen some time\nago. Finally she turned and said shyly, while her face grew rosy and\nher eyes tender: \"Why don't you say it, then?\"\n\n\"May I?\" cried Stephen, and he was so careless for a minute of the\nway he held the basket, that Felicia exclaimed:\n\n\"Yes! But oh, don't drop my goodies!\"\n\n\"Why, I wouldn't drop anything so precious for all the world, dear\nFelicia,\" said Stephen, who now walked on air for several blocks,\nand what was said during that walk is private correspondence that we\nhave no right to read. Only it is a matter of history that day that\nthe basket never reached its destination, and that over in the other\ndirection, late in the afternoon, the Bishop, walking along quietly\nfrom the Penrose district, in rather a secluded spot near the\noutlying part of the Settlement district, heard a familiar voice\nsay:\n\n\"But tell me, Felicia, when did you begin to love me?\"\n\n\"I fell in love with a little pine shaving just above your ear that\nday when I saw you in the shop!\" said the other voice with a laugh\nso clear, so pure, so sweet that it did one good to hear it.\n\n\"Where are you going with that basket?\" he tried to say sternly.\n\n\"We are taking it to--where are we taking it, Felicia?\"\n\n\"Dear Bishop, we are taking it home to begin--\"\n\n\"To begin housekeeping with,\" finished Stephen, coming to the\nrescue.\n\n\"Are you?\" said the Bishop. \"I hope you will invite me to share. I\nknow what Felicia's cooking is.\"\n\n\"Bishop, dear Bishop!\" said Felicia, and she did not pretend to hide\nher happiness; \"indeed, you shall be the most honored guest. Are you\nglad?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am,\" he replied, interpreting Felicia's words as she wished.\nThen he paused a moment and said gently: \"God bless you both!\" and\nwent his way with a tear in his eye and a prayer in his heart, and\nleft them to their joy.\n\nYes. Shall not the same divine power of love that belongs to earth\nbe lived and sung by the disciples of the Man of Sorrows and the\nBurden-bearer of sins? Yea, verily! And this man and woman shall\nwalk hand in hand through this great desert of human woe in this\ncity, strengthening each other, growing more loving with the\nexperience of the world's sorrows, walking in His steps even closer\nyet because of their love for each other, bringing added blessing to\nthousands of wretched creatures because they are to have a home of\ntheir own to share with the homeless. \"For this cause,\" said our\nLord Jesus Christ, \"shall a man leave his father and mother and\ncleave unto his wife.\" And Felicia and Stephen, following the\nMaster, love him with a deeper, truer service and devotion because\nof the earthly affection which Heaven itself sanctions with its\nsolemn blessing.\n\nBut it was a little after the love story of the Settlement became a\npart of its glory that Henry Maxwell of Raymond came to Chicago with\nRachel Winslow and Virginia Page and Rollin and Alexander Powers and\nPresident Marsh, and the occasion was a remarkable gathering at the\nhall of the Settlement arranged by the Bishop and Dr. Bruce, who had\nfinally persuaded Mr. Maxwell and his fellow disciples in Raymond to\ncome on to be present at this meeting.\n\nThere were invited into the Settlement Hall, meeting for that night\nmen out of work, wretched creatures who had lost faith in God and\nman, anarchists and infidels, free-thinkers and no-thinkers. The\nrepresentation of all the city's worst, most hopeless, most\ndangerous, depraved elements faced Henry Maxwell and the other\ndisciples when the meeting began. And still the Holy Spirit moved\nover the great, selfish, pleasure-loving, sin-stained city, and it\nlay in God's hand, not knowing all that awaited it. Every man and\nwoman at the meeting that night had seen the Settlement motto over\nthe door blazing through the transparency set up by the divinity\nstudent: \"What would Jesus do?\"\n\nAnd Henry Maxwell, as for the first time he stepped under the\ndoorway, was touched with a deeper emotion than he had felt in a\nlong time as he thought of the first time that question had come to\nhim in the piteous appeal of the shabby young man who had appeared\nin the First Church of Raymond at the morning service.\n\nWas his great desire for fellowship going to be granted? Would the\nmovement begun in Raymond actually spread over the country? He had\ncome to Chicago with his friends partly to see if the answer to that\nquestion would be found in the heart of the great city life. In a few\nminutes he would face the people. He had grown very strong and calm\nsince he first spoke with trembling to that company of workingmen\nin the railroad shops, but now as then he breathed a deeper prayer\nfor help. Then he went in, and with the rest of the disciples he\nexperienced one of the great and important events of the earthly life.\nSomehow he felt as if this meeting would indicate something of an\nanswer to his constant query: \"What would Jesus do?\" And to-night as he\nlooked into the faces of men and women who had for years been strangers\nand enemies to the Church, his heart cried out: \"O, my Master, teach\nthe Church, Thy Church, how to follow Thy steps better!\" Is that prayer\nof Henry Maxwell's to be answered? Will the Church in the city respond\nto the call to follow Him? Will it choose to walk in His steps of pain\nand suffering? And still, over all the city broods the Spirit. Grieve\nHim not, O city! For He was never more ready to revolutionize this\nworld than now!\n\n\n\n\nChapter Thirty\n\n\n\"Now, when Jesus heard these things, He said unto him, Yet lackest\nthou one thing: sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the\npoor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow Me.\"\n\n\nWHEN Henry Maxwell began to speak to the souls crowded into the\nSettlement Hall that night it is doubtful if he ever faced such an\naudience in his life. It is quite certain that the city of Raymond\ndid not contain such a variety of humanity. Not even the Rectangle\nat its worst could furnish so many men and women who had fallen\nentirely out of the reach of the church and of all religious and\neven Christian influences.\n\nWhat did he talk about? He had already decided that point. He told\nin the simplest language he could command some of the results of\nobedience to the pledge as it had been taken in Raymond. Every man\nand woman in that audience knew something about Jesus Christ. They\nall had some idea of His character, and however much they had grown\nbitter toward the forms of Christian ecclesiasticism or the social\nsystem, they preserved some standard of right and truth, and what\nlittle some of them still retained was taken from the person of the\nPeasant of Galilee.\n\nSo they were interested in what Maxwell said. \"What would Jesus do?\"\nHe began to apply the question to the social problem in general,\nafter finishing the story of Raymond. The audience was respectfully\nattentive. It was more than that. It was genuinely interested. As\nMr. Maxwell went on, faces all over the hall leaned forward in a way\nseldom seen in church audiences or anywhere except among workingmen\nor the people of the street when once they are thoroughly aroused.\n\"What would Jesus do?\" Suppose that were the motto not only of the\nchurches but of the business men, the politicians, the newspapers,\nthe workingmen, the society people--how long would it take under\nsuch a standard of conduct to revolutionize the world? What was the\ntrouble with the world? It was suffering from selfishness. No one\never lived who had succeeded in overcoming selfishness like Jesus.\nIf men followed Him regardless of results the world would at once\nbegin to enjoy a new life.\n\nMaxwell never knew how much it meant to hold the respectful\nattention of that hall full of diseased and sinful humanity. The\nBishop and Dr. Bruce, sitting there, looking on, seeing many faces\nthat represented scorn of creeds, hatred of the social order,\ndesperate narrowness and selfishness, marveled that even so soon\nunder the influence of the Settlement life, the softening process\nhad begun already to lessen the bitterness of hearts, many of which\nhad grown bitter from neglect and indifference.\n\nAnd still, in spite of the outward show of respect to the speaker,\nno one, not even the Bishop, had any true conception of the feeling\npent up in that room that night. Among those who had heard of the\nmeeting and had responded to the invitation were twenty or thirty\nmen out of work who had strolled past the Settlement that afternoon,\nread the notice of the meeting, and had come in out of curiosity and\nto escape the chill east wind. It was a bitter night and the saloons\nwere full. But in that whole district of over thirty thousand souls,\nwith the exception of the saloons, there was not a door open except\nthe clean, pure Christian door of the Settlement. Where would a man\nwithout a home or without work or without friends naturally go\nunless to the saloon?\n\nIt had been the custom at the Settlement for a free discussion to\nfollow any open meeting of this kind, and when Mr. Maxwell finished\nand sat down, the Bishop, who presided that night, rose and made the\nannouncement that any man in the hall was at liberty to ask\nquestions, to speak out his feelings or declare his convictions,\nalways with the understanding that whoever took part was to observe\nthe simple rules that governed parliamentary bodies and obey the\nthree-minute rule which, by common consent, would be enforced on\naccount of the numbers present.\n\nInstantly a number of voices from men who had been at previous\nmeetings of this kind exclaimed, \"Consent! consent!\"\n\nThe Bishop sat down, and immediately a man near the middle of the\nhall rose and began to speak.\n\n\"I want to say that what Mr. Maxwell has said tonight comes pretty\nclose to me. I knew Jack Manning, the fellow he told about who died\nat his house. I worked on the next case to his in a printer's shop\nin Philadelphia for two years. Jack was a good fellow. He loaned me\nfive dollars once when I was in a hole and I never got a chance to\npay him back. He moved to New York, owing to a change in the\nmanagement of the office that threw him out, and I never saw him\nagain. When the linotype machines came in I was one of the men to go\nout, just as he did. I have been out most of the time since. They\nsay inventions are a good thing. I don't always see it myself; but I\nsuppose I'm prejudiced. A man naturally is when he loses a steady\njob because a machine takes his place. About this Christianity he\ntells about, it's all right. But I never expect to see any such\nsacrifices on the part of the church people. So far as my\nobservation goes they're just as selfish and as greedy for money and\nworldly success as anybody. I except the Bishop and Dr. Bruce and a\nfew others. But I never found much difference between men of the\nworld, as they are called, and church members when it came to\nbusiness and money making. One class is just as bad as another\nthere.\"\n\nCries of \"That's so!\" \"You're right!\" \"Of course!\" interrupted the\nspeaker, and the minute he sat down two men who were on the floor\nfor several seconds before the first speaker was through began to\ntalk at once.\n\nThe Bishop called them to order and indicated which was entitled to\nthe floor. The man who remained standing began eagerly:\n\n\"This is the first time I was ever in here, and may be it'll be the\nlast. Fact is, I am about at the end of my string. I've tramped this\ncity for work till I'm sick. I'm in plenty of company. Say! I'd like\nto ask a question of the minister, if it's fair. May I?\"\n\n\"That's for Mr. Maxwell to say,\" said the Bishop.\n\n\"By all means,\" replied Mr. Maxwell quickly. \"Of course, I will not\npromise to answer it to the gentleman's satisfaction.\"\n\n\"This is my question.\" The man leaned forward and stretched out a\nlong arm with a certain dramatic force that grew naturally enough\nout of his condition as a human being. \"I want to know what Jesus\nwould do in my case. I haven't had a stroke of work for two months.\nI've got a wife and three children, and I love them as much as if I\nwas worth a million dollars. I've been living off a little earnings\nI saved up during the World's Fair jobs I got. I'm a carpenter by\ntrade, and I've tried every way I know to get a job. You say we\nought to take for our motto, 'What would Jesus do?' What would He do\nif He was out of work like me? I can't be somebody else and ask the\nquestion. I want to work. I'd give anything to grow tired of working\nten hours a day the way I used to. Am I to blame because I can't\nmanufacture a job for myself? I've got to live, and my wife and my\nchildren have got to live. But how? What would Jesus do? You say\nthat's the question we ought to ask.\"\n\nMr. Maxwell sat there staring at the great sea of faces all intent\non his, and no answer to this man's question seemed for the time\nbeing to be possible. \"O God!\" his heart prayed; \"this is a question\nthat brings up the entire social problem in all its perplexing\nentanglement of human wrongs and its present condition contrary to\nevery desire of God for a human being's welfare. Is there any\ncondition more awful than for a man in good health, able and eager\nto work, with no means of honest livelihood unless he does work,\nactually unable to get anything to do, and driven to one of three\nthings: begging or charity at the hands of friends or strangers,\nsuicide or starvation? 'What would Jesus do?'\" It was a fair\nquestion for the man to ask. It was the only question he could ask,\nsupposing him to be a disciple of Jesus. But what a question for any\nman to be obliged to answer under such conditions?\n\nAll this and more did Henry Maxwell ponder. All the others were\nthinking in the same way. The Bishop sat there with a look so stern\nand sad that it was not hard to tell how the question moved him. Dr.\nBruce had his head bowed. The human problem had never seemed to him\nso tragical as since he had taken the pledge and left his church to\nenter the Settlement. What would Jesus do? It was a terrible\nquestion. And still the man stood there, tall and gaunt and almost\nterrible, with his arm stretched out in an appeal which grew every\nsecond in meaning. At length Mr. Maxwell spoke.\n\n\"Is there any man in the room, who is a Christian disciple, who has\nbeen in this condition and has tried to do as Jesus would do? If so,\nsuch a man can answer this question better than I can.\"\n\nThere was a moment's hush over the room and then a man near the\nfront of the hall slowly rose. He was an old man, and the hand he\nlaid on the back of the bench in front of him trembled as he spoke.\n\n\"I think I can safely say that I have many times been in just such a\ncondition, and I have always tried to be a Christian under all\nconditions. I don't know as I have always asked this question, 'What\nwould Jesus do?' when I have been out of work, but I do know I have\ntried to be His disciple at all times. Yes,\" the man went on, with a\nsad smile that was more pathetic to the Bishop and Mr. Maxwell than\nthe younger man's grim despair; \"yes, I have begged, and I have been\nto charity institutions, and I have done everything when out of a\njob except steal and lie in order to get food and fuel. I don't know\nas Jesus would have done some of the things I have been obliged to\ndo for a living, but I know I have never knowingly done wrong when\nout of work. Sometimes I think maybe He would have starved sooner\nthan beg. I don't know.\"\n\nThe old man's voice trembled and he looked around the room timidly.\nA silence followed, broken by a fierce voice from a large,\nblack-haired, heavily-bearded man who sat three seats from the\nBishop. The minute he spoke nearly every man in the hall leaned\nforward eagerly. The man who had asked the question, \"What would\nJesus do in my case?\" slowly sat down and whispered to the man next\nto him: \"Who's that?\"\n\n\"That's Carlsen, the Socialist leader. Now you'll hear something.\"\n\n\"This is all bosh, to my mind,\" began Carlsen, while his great\nbristling beard shook with the deep inward anger of the man. \"The\nwhole of our system is at fault. What we call civilization is rotten\nto the core. There is no use trying to hide it or cover it up. We\nlive in an age of trusts and combines and capitalistic greed that\nmeans simply death to thousands of innocent men, women and children.\nI thank God, if there is a God--which I very much doubt--that I, for\none, have never dared to marry and make a home. Home! Talk of hell!\nIs there any bigger one than this man and his three children has on\nhis hands right this minute? And he's only one out of thousands. And\nyet this city, and every other big city in this country, has its\nthousands of professed Christians who have all the luxuries and\ncomforts, and who go to church Sundays and sing their hymns about\ngiving all to Jesus and bearing the cross and following Him all the\nway and being saved! I don't say that there aren't good men and\nwomen among them, but let the minister who has spoken to us here\ntonight go into any one of a dozen aristocratic churches I could\nname and propose to the members to take any such pledge as the one\nhe's mentioned here tonight, and see how quick the people would\nlaugh at him for a fool or a crank or a fanatic. Oh, no! That's not\nthe remedy. That can't ever amount to anything. We've got to have a\nnew start in the way of government. The whole thing needs\nreconstructing. I don't look for any reform worth anything to come\nout of the churches. They are not with the people. They are with the\naristocrats, with the men of money. The trusts and monopolies have\ntheir greatest men in the churches. The ministers as a class are\ntheir slaves. What we need is a system that shall start from the\ncommon basis of socialism, founded on the rights of the common\npeople--\"\n\nCarlsen had evidently forgotten all about the three-minutes rule and\nwas launching himself into a regular oration that meant, in his\nusual surroundings before his usual audience, an hour at least, when\nthe man just behind him pulled him down unceremoniously and arose.\nCarlsen was angry at first and threatened a little disturbance, but\nthe Bishop reminded him of the rule, and he subsided with several\nmutterings in his beard, while the next speaker began with a very\nstrong eulogy on the value of the single tax as a genuine remedy for\nall the social ills. He was followed by a man who made a bitter\nattack on the churches and ministers, and declared that the two\ngreat obstacles in the way of all true reform were the courts and\nthe ecclesiastical machines.\n\nWhen he sat down a man who bore every mark of being a street laborer\nsprang to his feet and poured a perfect torrent of abuse against the\ncorporations, especially the railroads. The minute his time was up a\nbig, brawny fellow, who said he was a metal worker by trade, claimed\nthe floor and declared that the remedy for the social wrongs was\nTrades Unionism. This, he said, would bring on the millennium for\nlabor more surely than anything else. The next man endeavored to\ngive some reasons why so many persons were out of employment, and\ncondemned inventions as works of the devil. He was loudly applauded\nby the rest.\n\nFinally the Bishop called time on the \"free for all,\" and asked\nRachel to sing.\n\nRachel Winslow had grown into a very strong, healthful, humble\nChristian during that wonderful year in Raymond dating from the\nSunday when she first took the pledge to do as Jesus would do, and\nher great talent for song had been fully consecrated to the service\nof the Master. When she began to sing tonight at this Settlement\nmeeting, she had never prayed more deeply for results to come from\nher voice, the voice which she now regarded as the Master's, to be\nused for Him.\n\nCertainly her prayer was being answered as she sang. She had chosen\nthe words,\n\n\"Hark! The voice of Jesus calling, Follow me, follow me!\"\n\nAgain Henry Maxwell, sitting there, was reminded of his first night\nat the Rectangle in the tent when Rachel sang the people into quiet.\nThe effect was the same here. What wonderful power a good voice\nconsecrated to the Master's service always is! Rachel's great\nnatural ability would have made her one of the foremost opera\nsingers of the age. Surely this audience had never heard such a\nmelody. How could it? The men who had drifted in from the street sat\nentranced by a voice which \"back in the world,\" as the Bishop said,\nnever could be heard by the common people because the owner of it\nwould charge two or three dollars for the privilege. The song poured\nout through the hall as free and glad as if it were a foretaste of\nsalvation itself. Carlsen, with his great, black-bearded face\nuplifted, absorbed the music with the deep love of it peculiar to\nhis nationality, and a tear ran over his cheek and glistened in his\nbeard as his face softened and became almost noble in its aspect.\nThe man out of work who had wanted to know what Jesus would do in\nhis place sat with one grimy hand on the back of the bench in front\nof him, with his mouth partly open, his great tragedy for the moment\nforgotten. The song, while it lasted, was food and work and warmth\nand union with his wife and babies once more. The man who had spoken\nso fiercely against the churches and ministers sat with his head\nerect, at first with a look of stolid resistance, as if he\nstubbornly resisted the introduction into the exercises of anything\nthat was even remotely connected with the church or its forms of\nworship. But gradually he yielded to the power that was swaying the\nhearts of all the persons in that room, and a look of sad\nthoughtfulness crept over his face.\n\nThe Bishop said that night while Rachel was singing that if the\nworld of sinful, diseased, depraved, lost humanity could only have\nthe gospel preached to it by consecrated prima donnas and\nprofessional tenors and altos and bassos, he believed it would\nhasten the coming of the Kingdom quicker than any other one force.\n\"Why, oh why,\" he cried in his heart as he listened, \"has the\nworld's great treasure of song been so often held far from the poor\nbecause the personal possessor of voice or fingers, capable of\nstirring divinest melody, has so often regarded the gift as\nsomething with which to make money? Shall there be no martyrs among\nthe gifted ones of the earth? Shall there be no giving of this great\ngift as well as of others?\"\n\nAnd Henry Maxwell, again as before, called up that other audience at\nthe Rectangle with increasing longing for a larger spread of the new\ndiscipleship. What he had seen and heard at the Settlement burned\ninto him deeper the belief that the problem of the city would be\nsolved if the Christians in it should once follow Jesus as He gave\ncommandment. But what of this great mass of humanity, neglected and\nsinful, the very kind of humanity the Savior came to save, with all\nits mistakes and narrowness, its wretchedness and loss of hope,\nabove all its unqualified bitterness towards the church? That was\nwhat smote him deepest. Was the church then so far from the Master\nthat the people no longer found Him in the church? Was it true that\nthe church had lost its power over the very kind of humanity which\nin the early ages of Christianity it reached in the greatest\nnumbers? How much was true in what the Socialist leader said about\nthe uselessness of looking to the church for reform or redemption,\nbecause of the selfishness and seclusion and aristocracy of its\nmembers?\n\nHe was more and more impressed with the appalling fact that the\ncomparatively few men in that hall, now being held quiet for a while\nby Rachel's voice, represented thousands of others just like them,\nto whom a church and a minister stood for less than a saloon or a\nbeer garden as a source of comfort or happiness. Ought it to be so?\nIf the church members were all doing as Jesus would do, could it\nremain true that armies of men would walk the streets for jobs and\nhundreds of them curse the church and thousands of them find in the\nsaloon their best friend? How far were the Christians responsible\nfor this human problem that was personally illustrated right in this\nhall tonight? Was it true that the great city churches would as a\nrule refuse to walk in Jesus' steps so closely as to\nsuffer--actually suffer--for His sake?\n\nHenry Maxwell kept asking this question even after Rachel had finished\nsinging and the meeting had come to an end after a social gathering\nwhich was very informal. He asked it while the little company of\nresidents with the Raymond visitors were having a devotional service,\nas the custom in the Settlement was. He asked it during a conference\nwith the Bishop and Dr. Bruce which lasted until one o'clock. He asked\nit as he knelt again before sleeping and poured out his soul in a\npetition for spiritual baptism on the church in America such as it had\nnever known. He asked it the first thing in the morning and all through\nthe day as he went over the Settlement district and saw the life of\nthe people so far removed from the Life abundant. \"Would the church\nmembers, would the Christians, not only in the churches of Chicago, but\nthroughout the country, refuse to walk in His steps if, in order to do\nso, they must actually take up a cross and follow Him? This was the one\nquestion that continually demanded answer.\n\n\n\n\nChapter Thirty-one\n\n\nHE had planned when he came to the city to return to Raymond and be\nin his own pulpit on Sunday. But Friday morning he had received at\nthe Settlement a call from the pastor of one of the largest churches\nin Chicago, and had been invited to fill the pulpit for both morning\nand evening service.\n\nAt first he hesitated, but finally accepted, seeing in it the hand\nof the Spirit's guiding power. He would test his own question. He\nwould prove the truth or falsity of the charge made against the\nchurch at the Settlement meeting. How far would it go in its\nself-denial for Jesus' sake? How closely would it walk in His steps?\nWas the church willing to suffer for its Master?\n\nSaturday night he spent in prayer, nearly the whole night. There had\nnever been so great a wrestling in his soul, not even during his\nstrongest experiences in Raymond. He had in fact entered upon\nanother new experience. The definition of his own discipleship was\nreceiving an added test at this time, and he was being led into a\nlarger truth of the Lord.\n\nSunday morning the great church was filled to its utmost. Henry\nMaxwell, coming into the pulpit from that all-night vigil, felt the\npressure of a great curiosity on the part of the people. They had\nheard of the Raymond movement, as all the churches had, and the\nrecent action of Dr. Bruce had added to the general interest in the\npledge. With this curiosity was something deeper, more serious. Mr.\nMaxwell felt that also. And in the knowledge that the Spirit's\npresence was his living strength, he brought his message and gave it\nto that church that day.\n\nHe had never been what would be called a great preacher. He had not\nthe force nor the quality that makes remarkable preachers. But ever\nsince he had promised to do as Jesus would do, he had grown in a\ncertain quality of persuasiveness that had all the essentials of\ntrue eloquence. This morning the people felt the complete sincerity\nand humility of a man who had gone deep into the heart of a great\ntruth.\n\nAfter telling briefly of some results in his own church in Raymond\nsince the pledge was taken, he went on to ask the question he had\nbeen asking since the Settlement meeting. He had taken for his theme\nthe story of the young man who came to Jesus asking what he must do\nto obtain eternal life. Jesus had tested him. \"Sell all that thou\nhast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven;\nand come follow me.\" But the young man was not willing to suffer to\nthat extent. If following Jesus meant suffering in that way, he was\nnot willing. He would like to follow Jesus, but not if he had to\ngive so much.\n\n\"Is it true,\" continued Henry Maxwell, and his fine, thoughtful face\nglowed with a passion of appeal that stirred the people as they had\nseldom been stirred, \"is it true that the church of today, the\nchurch that is called after Christ's own name, would refuse to\nfollow Him at the expense of suffering, of physical loss, of\ntemporary gain? The statement was made at a large gathering in the\nSettlement last week by a leader of workingmen that it was hopeless\nto look to the church for any reform or redemption of society. On\nwhat was that statement based? Plainly on the assumption that the\nchurch contains for the most part men and women who think more 'of\ntheir own ease and luxury' than of the sufferings and needs and sins\nof humanity. How far is that true? Are the Christians of America\nready to have their discipleship tested? How about the men who\npossess large wealth? Are they ready to take that wealth and use it\nas Jesus would? How about the men and women of great talent? Are\nthey ready to consecrate that talent to humanity as Jesus\nundoubtedly would do?\n\n\"Is it not true that the call has come in this age for a new\nexhibition of Christian discipleship? You who live in this great\nsinful city must know that better than I do. Is it possible you can\ngo your ways careless or thoughtless of the awful condition of men\nand women and children who are dying, body and soul, for need of\nChristian help? Is it not a matter of concern to you personally that\nthe saloon kills its thousands more surely than war? Is it not a\nmatter of personal suffering in some form for you that thousands of\nable-bodied, willing men tramp the streets of this city and all\ncities, crying for work and drifting into crime and suicide because\nthey cannot find it? Can you say that this is none of your business?\nLet each man look after himself? Would it not be true, think you,\nthat if every Christian in America did as Jesus would do, society\nitself, the business world, yes, the very political system under\nwhich our commercial and governmental activity is carried on, would\nbe so changed that human suffering would be reduced to a minimum?\n\n\"What would be the result if all the church members of this city\ntried to do as Jesus would do? It is not possible to say in detail\nwhat the effect would be. But it is easy to say, and it is true,\nthat instantly the human problem would begin to find an adequate\nanswer.\n\n\"What is the test of Christian discipleship? Is it not the same as\nin Christ's own time? Have our surroundings modified or changed the\ntest? If Jesus were here today would He not call some of the members\nof this very church to do just what He commanded the young man, and\nask them to give up their wealth and literally follow Him? I believe\nHe would do that if He felt certain that any church member thought\nmore of his possessions than of the Savior. The test would be the\nsame today as then. I believe Jesus would demand He does demand\nnow--as close a following, as much suffering, as great self-denial\nas when He lived in person on the earth and said, 'Except a man\nrenounce all that he hath he cannot be my disciple.' That is, unless\nhe is willing to do it for my sake, he cannot be my disciple.\n\n\"What would be the result if in this city every church member should\nbegin to do as Jesus would do? It is not easy to go into details of\nthe result. But we all know that certain things would be impossible\nthat are now practiced by church members.\n\n\"What would Jesus do in the matter of wealth? How would He spend it?\nWhat principle would regulate His use of money? Would He be likely\nto live in great luxury and spend ten times as much on personal\nadornment and entertainment as He spent to relieve the needs of\nsuffering humanity? How would Jesus be governed in the making of\nmoney? Would He take rentals from saloons and other disreputable\nproperty, or even from tenement property that was so constructed\nthat the inmates had no such things as a home and no such\npossibility as privacy or cleanliness?\n\n\"What would Jesus do about the great army of unemployed and\ndesperate who tramp the streets and curse the church, or are\nindifferent to it, lost in the bitter struggle for the bread that\ntastes bitter when it is earned on account of the desperate conflict\nto get it? Would Jesus care nothing for them? Would He go His way in\ncomparative ease and comfort? Would He say that it was none of His\nbusiness? Would He excuse Himself from all responsibility to remove\nthe causes of such a condition?\n\n\"What would Jesus do in the center of a civilization that hurries so\nfast after money that the very girls employed in great business\nhouses are not paid enough to keep soul and body together without\nfearful temptations so great that scores of them fall and are swept\nover the great boiling abyss; where the demands of trade sacrifice\nhundreds of lads in a business that ignores all Christian duties\ntoward them in the way of education and moral training and personal\naffection? Would Jesus, if He were here today as a part of our age\nand commercial industry, feel nothing, do nothing, say nothing, in\nthe face of these facts which every business man knows?\n\n\"What would Jesus do? Is not that what the disciple ought to do? Is\nhe not commanded to follow in His steps? How much is the\nChristianity of the age suffering for Him? Is it denying itself at\nthe cost of ease, comfort, luxury, elegance of living? What does the\nage need more than personal sacrifice? Does the church do its duty\nin following Jesus when it gives a little money to establish\nmissions or relieve extreme cases of want? Is it any sacrifice for a\nman who is worth ten million dollars simply to give ten thousand\ndollars for some benevolent work? Is he not giving something that\ncost him practically nothing so far as any personal suffering goes?\nIs it true that the Christian disciples today in most of our\nchurches are living soft, easy, selfish lives, very far from any\nsacrifice that can be called sacrifice? What would Jesus do?\n\n\"It is the personal element that Christian discipleship needs to\nemphasize. 'The gift without the giver is bare.' The Christianity\nthat attempts to suffer by proxy is not the Christianity of Christ.\nEach individual Christian business man, citizen, needs to follow in\nHis steps along the path of personal sacrifice to Him. There is not\na different path today from that of Jesus' own times. It is the same\npath. The call of this dying century and of the new one soon to be,\nis a call for a new discipleship, a new following of Jesus, more\nlike the early, simple, apostolic Christianity, when the disciples\nleft all and literally followed the Master. Nothing but a\ndiscipleship of this kind can face the destructive selfishness of\nthe age with any hope of overcoming it. There is a great quantity of\nnominal Christianity today. There is need of more of the real kind.\nWe need revival of the Christianity of Christ. We have,\nunconsciously, lazily, selfishly, formally grown into a discipleship\nthat Jesus himself would not acknowledge. He would say to many of us\nwhen we cry, 'Lord, Lord,' 'I never knew you!' Are we ready to take\nup the cross? Is it possible for this church to sing with exact\ntruth,\n\n  'Jesus, I my cross have taken,\n  All to leave and follow Thee?'\n\nIf we can sing that truly, then we may claim discipleship. But if\nour definition of being a Christian is simply to enjoy the\nprivileges of worship, be generous at no expense to ourselves, have\na good, easy time surrounded by pleasant friends and by comfortable\nthings, live respectably and at the same time avoid the world's\ngreat stress of sin and trouble because it is too much pain to bear\nit--if this is our definition of Christianity, surely we are a long\nway from following the steps of Him who trod the way with groans and\ntears and sobs of anguish for a lost humanity; who sweat, as it\nwere, great drops of blood, who cried out on the upreared cross, 'My\nGod, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?'\n\n\"Are we ready to make and live a new discipleship? Are we ready to\nreconsider our definition of a Christian? What is it to be a\nChristian? It is to imitate Jesus. It is to do as He would do. It is\nto walk in His steps.\"\n\nWhen Henry Maxwell finished his sermon, he paused and looked at the\npeople with a look they never forgot and, at the moment, did not\nunderstand. Crowded into that fashionable church that day were\nhundreds of men and women who had for years lived the easy,\nsatisfied life of a nominal Christianity. A great silence fell over\nthe congregation. Through the silence there came to the\nconsciousness of all the souls there present a knowledge, stranger\nto them now for years, of a Divine Power. Every one expected the\npreacher to call for volunteers who would do as Jesus would do. But\nMaxwell had been led by the Spirit to deliver his message this time\nand wait for results to come.\n\nHe closed the service with a tender prayer that kept the Divine\nPresence lingering very near every hearer, and the people slowly\nrose to go out. Then followed a scene that would have been\nimpossible if any mere man had been alone in his striving for\nresults.\n\nMen and women in great numbers crowded around the platform to see\nMr. Maxwell and to bring him the promise of their consecration to\nthe pledge to do as Jesus would do. It was a voluntary, spontaneous\nmovement that broke upon his soul with a result he could not\nmeasure. But had he not been praying for is very thing? It was an\nanswer that more than met his desires.\n\nThere followed this movement a prayer service that in its\nimpressions repeated the Raymond experience. In the evening, to Mr.\nMaxwell's joy, the Endeavor Society almost to a member came forward,\nas so many of the church members had done in the morning, and\nseriously, solemnly, tenderly, took the pledge to do as Jesus would\ndo. A deep wave of spiritual baptism broke over the meeting near its\nclose that was indescribable in its tender, joyful, sympathetic\nresults.\n\nThat was a remarkable day in the history of that church, but even\nmore so in the history of Henry Maxwell. He left the meeting very\nlate. He went to his room at the Settlement where he was still\nstopping, and after an hour with the Bishop and Dr. Bruce, spent in\na joyful rehearsal of the wonderful events of the day, he sat down\nto think over again by himself all the experience he was having as a\nChristian disciple.\n\nHe had kneeled to pray, as he always did before going to sleep, and\nit was while he was on his knees that he had a waking vision of what\nmight be in the world when once the new discipleship had made its\nway into the conscience and conscientiousness of Christendom. He was\nfully conscious of being awake, but no less certainly did it seem to\nhim that he saw certain results with great distinctiveness, partly\nas realities of the future, partly great longings that they might be\nrealities. And this is what Henry Maxwell saw in this waking vision:\n\nHe saw himself, first, going back to the First Church in Raymond,\nliving there in a simpler, more self-denying fashion than he had yet\nbeen willing to live, because he saw ways in which he could help\nothers who were really dependent on him for help. He also saw, more\ndimly, that the time would come when his position as pastor of the\nchurch would cause him to suffer more on account of growing\nopposition to his interpretation of Jesus and His conduct. But this\nwas vaguely outlined. Through it all he heard the words \"My grace is\nsufficient for thee.\"\n\nHe saw Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page going on with their work of\nservice at the Rectangle, and reaching out loving hands of\nhelpfulness far beyond the limits of Raymond. Rachel he saw married\nto Rollin Page, both fully consecrated to the Master's use, both\nfollowing His steps with an eagerness intensified and purified by\ntheir love for each other. And Rachel's voice sang on, in slums and\ndark places of despair and sin, and drew lost souls back to God and\nheaven once more.\n\nHe saw President Marsh of the college using his great learning and\nhis great influence to purify the city, to ennoble its patriotism,\nto inspire the young men and women who loved as well as admired him\nto lives of Christian service, always teaching them that education\nmeans great responsibility for the weak and the ignorant.\n\nHe saw Alexander Powers meeting with sore trials in his family life,\nwith a constant sorrow in the estrangement of wife and friends, but\nstill going his way in all honor, serving in all his strength the\nMaster whom he had obeyed, even unto the loss of social distinction\nand wealth.\n\nHe saw Milton Wright, the merchant, meeting with great reverses.\nThrown upon the future by a combination of circumstances, with vast\nbusiness interests involved in ruin through no fault of his own, but\ncoming out of his reverses with clean Christian honor, to begin\nagain and work up to a position where he could again be to hundreds\nof young men an example of what Jesus would do in business.\n\nHe saw Edward Norman, editor of the NEWS, by means of the money\ngiven by Virginia, creating a force in journalism that in time came\nto be recognized as one of the real factors of the nation to mold\nits principles and actually shape its policy, a daily illustration\nof the might of a Christian press, and the first of a series of such\npapers begun and carried on by other disciples who had also taken\nthe pledge.\n\nHe saw Jasper Chase, who had denied his Master, growing into a cold,\ncynical, formal life, writing novels that were social successes, but\neach one with a sting in it, the reminder of his denial, the bitter\nremorse that, do what he would, no social success could remove.\n\nHe saw Rose Sterling, dependent for some years upon her aunt and\nFelicia, finally married to a man far older than herself, accepting\nthe burden of a relation that had no love in it on her part, because\nof her desire to be the wife of a rich man and enjoy the physical\nluxuries that were all of life to her. Over this life also the\nvision cast certain dark and awful shadows but they were not shown\nin detail.\n\nHe saw Felicia and Stephen Clyde happily married, living a beautiful\nlife together, enthusiastic, joyful in suffering, pouring out their\ngreat, strong, fragrant service into the dull, dark, terrible places\nof the great city, and redeeming souls through the personal touch of\ntheir home, dedicated to the Human Homesickness all about them.\n\nHe saw Dr. Bruce and the Bishop going on with the Settlement work.\nHe seemed to see the great blazing motto over the door enlarged,\n\"What would Jesus do?\" and by this motto every one who entered the\nSettlement walked in the steps of the Master.\n\nHe saw Burns and his companion and a great company of men like them,\nredeemed and giving in turn to others, conquering their passions by\nthe divine grace, and proving by their daily lives the reality of\nthe new birth even in the lowest and most abandoned.\n\nAnd now the vision was troubled. It seemed to him that as he kneeled\nhe began to pray, and the vision was more of a longing for a future\nthan a reality in the future. The church of Jesus in the city and\nthroughout the country! Would it follow Jesus? Was the movement\nbegun in Raymond to spend itself in a few churches like Nazareth\nAvenue and the one where he had preached today, and then die away as\na local movement, a stirring on the surface but not to extend deep\nand far? He felt with agony after the vision again. He thought he\nsaw the church of Jesus in America open its heart to the moving of\nthe Spirit and rise to the sacrifice of its ease and\nself-satisfaction in the name of Jesus. He thought he saw the motto,\n\"What would Jesus do?\" inscribed over every church door, and written\non every church member's heart.\n\nThe vision vanished. It came back clearer than before, and he saw\nthe Endeavor Societies all over the world carrying in their great\nprocessions at some mighty convention a banner on which was written,\n\"What would Jesus do?\" And he thought in the faces of the young men\nand women he saw future joy of suffering, loss, self-denial,\nmartyrdom. And when this part of the vision slowly faded, he saw the\nfigure of the Son of God beckoning to him and to all the other\nactors in his life history. An Angel Choir somewhere was singing.\nThere was a sound as of many voices and a shout as of a great\nvictory. And the figure of Jesus grew more and more splendid. He\nstood at the end of a long flight of steps. \"Yes! Yes! O my Master,\nhas not the time come for this dawn of the millennium of Christian\nhistory? Oh, break upon the Christendom of this age with the light\nand the truth! Help us to follow Thee all the way!\"\n\nHe rose at last with the awe of one who has looked at heavenly\nthings. He felt the human forces and the human sins of the world as\nnever before. And with a hope that walks hand in hand with faith and\nlove Henry Maxwell, disciple of Jesus, laid him down to sleep and\ndreamed of the regeneration of Christendom, and saw in his dream a\nchurch of Jesus without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, following\nhim all the way, walking obediently in His steps.\n\n\n\n\nTHE END","title":"In His Steps","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":82227}