SUNDAY morning dawned again on Raymond, and Henry Maxwell's church
was again crowded. Before the service began Edward Norman attracted
great attention. He sat quietly in his usual place about three seats
from the pulpit. The Sunday morning issue of the NEWS containing the
statement of its discontinuance had been expressed in such
remarkable language that every reader was struck by it. No such
series of distinct sensations had ever disturbed the usual business
custom of Raymond. The events connected with the NEWS were not all.
People were eagerly talking about strange things done during the
week by Alexander Powers at the railroad shops, and Milton Wright in
his stores on the avenue. The service progressed upon a distinct
wave of excitement in the pews. Henry Maxwell faced it all with a
calmness which indicated a strength and purpose more than usual. His
prayers were very helpful. His sermon was not so easy to describe.
How would a minister be apt to preach to his people if he came
before them after an entire week of eager asking, "How would Jesus
preach? What would He probably say?" It is very certain that he did
not preach as he had done two Sundays before. Tuesday of the past
week he had stood by the grave of the dead stranger and said the
words, "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust," and still he
was moved by the spirit of a deeper impulse than he could measure as
he thought of his people and yearned for the Christ message when he
should be in his pulpit again.
Now that Sunday had come and the people were there to hear, what
would the Master tell them? He agonized over his preparation for
them, and yet he knew he had not been able to fit his message into
his ideal of the Christ. Nevertheless no one in the First Church
could remember ever hearing such a sermon before. There was in it
rebuke for sin, especially hypocrisy, there was definite rebuke of
the greed of wealth and the selfishness of fashion, two things that
First Church never heard rebuked this way before, and there was a
love of his people that gathered new force as the sermon went on.
When it was finished there were those who were saying in their
hearts, "The Spirit moved that sermon." And they were right.
Then Rachel Winslow rose to sing, this time after the sermon, by Mr.
Maxwell's request. Rachel's singing did not provoke applause this
time. What deeper feeling carried the people's hearts into a
reverent silence and tenderness of thought? Rachel was beautiful.
But her consciousness of her remarkable loveliness had always marred
her singing with those who had the deepest spiritual feeling. It had
also marred her rendering of certain kinds of music with herself.
Today this was all gone. There was no lack of power in her grand
voice. But there was an actual added element of humility and purity
which the audience distinctly felt and bowed to.
Before service closed Mr. Maxwell asked those who had remained the
week before to stay again for a few moments of consultation, and any
others who were willing to make the pledge taken at that time. When
he was at liberty he went into the lecture-room. To his astonishment
it was almost filled. This time a large proportion of young people
had come, but among them were a few business men and officers of the
church.
As before, he, Maxwell, asked them to pray with him. And, as before,
a distinct answer came from the presence of the divine Spirit. There
was no doubt in the minds of any present that what they purposed to
do was so clearly in line with the divine will, that a blessing
rested upon it in a very special manner.
They remained some time to ask questions and consult together. There
was a feeling of fellowship such as they had never known in their
church membership. Mr. Norman's action was well understood by them
all, and he answered several questions.
"What will be the probable result of your discontinuance of the
Sunday paper?" asked Alexander Powers, who sat next to him.
"I don't know yet. I presume it will result in the falling off of
subscriptions and advertisements. I anticipate that."
"Do you have any doubts about your action. I mean, do you regret it,
or fear it is not what Jesus would do?" asked Mr. Maxwell.
"Not in the least. But I would like to ask, for my own satisfaction,
if any of you here think Jesus would issue a Sunday morning paper?"
No one spoke for a minute. Then Jasper Chase said, "We seem to think
alike on that, but I have been puzzled several times during the week
to know just what He would do. It is not always an easy question to
answer."
"I find that trouble," said Virginia Page. She sat by Rachel
Winslow. Every one who knew Virginia Page was wondering how she
would succeed in keeping her promise. "I think perhaps I find it
specially difficult to answer that question on account of my money.
Our Lord never owned any property, and there is nothing in His
example to guide me in the use of mine. I am studying and praying. I
think I see clearly a part of what He would do, but not all. What
would He do with a million dollars? is my question really. I confess
I am not yet able to answer it to my satisfaction.
"I could tell you what you could do with a part of it," said Rachel,
turning her face toward Virginia. "That does not trouble me,"
replied Virginia with a slight smile. "What I am trying to discover
is a principle that will enable me to come to the nearest possible
to His action as it ought to influence the entire course of my life
so far as my wealth and its use are concerned."
"That will take time," said the minister slowly. All the rest of the
room were thinking hard of the same thing. Milton Wright told
something of his experience. He was gradually working out a plan for
his business relations with his employees, and it was opening up a
new world to him and to them. A few of the young men told of special
attempts to answer the question. There was almost general consent
over the fact that the application of the Christ spirit and practice
to the everyday life was the serious thing. It required a knowledge
of Him and an insight into His motives that most of them did not yet
possess.
When they finally adjourned after a silent prayer that marked with
growing power the Divine Presence, they went away discussing
earnestly their difficulties and seeking light from one another.
Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page went out together. Edward Norman
and Milton Wright became so interested in their mutual conference
that they walked on past Norman's house and came back together.
Jasper Chase and the president of the Endeavor Society stood talking
earnestly in one corner of the room. Alexander Powers and Henry
Maxwell remained, even after the others had gone.
"I want you to come down to the shops tomorrow and see my plan and
talk to the men. Somehow I feel as if you could get nearer to them
than any one else just now."
"I don't know about that, but I will come," replied Mr. Maxwell a
little sadly. How was he fitted to stand before two or three hundred
working men and give them a message? Yet in the moment of his
weakness, as he asked the question, he rebuked himself for it. What
would Jesus do? That was an end to the discussion.
He went down the next day and found Mr. Powers in his office. It
lacked a few minutes of twelve and the superintendent said, "Come
upstairs, and I'll show you what I've been trying to do."
They went through the machine shop, climbed a long flight of stairs
and entered a very large, empty room. It had once been used by the
company for a store room.
"Since making that promise a week ago I have had a good many things
to think of," said the superintendent, "and among them is this: The
company gives me the use of this room, and I am going to fit it up
with tables and a coffee plant in the corner there where those steam
pipes are. My plan is to provide a good place where the men can come
up and eat their noon lunch, and give them, two or three times a
week, the privilege of a fifteen minutes' talk on some subject that
will be a real help to them in their lives."
Maxwell looked surprised and asked if the men would come for any
such purpose.
"Yes, they'll come. After all, I know the men pretty well. They are
among the most intelligent working men in the country today. But
they are, as a whole, entirely removed from church influence. I
asked, 'What would Jesus do?' and among other things it seemed to me
He would begin to act in some way to add to the lives of these men
more physical and spiritual comfort. It is a very little thing, this
room and what it represents, but I acted on the first impulse, to do
the first thing that appealed to my good sense, and I want to work
out this idea. I want you to speak to the men when they come up at
noon. I have asked them to come up and see the place and I'll tell
them something about it."
Maxwell was ashamed to say how uneasy he felt at being asked to
speak a few words to a company of working men. How could he speak
without notes, or to such a crowd? He was honestly in a condition of
genuine fright over the prospect. He actually felt afraid of facing
those men. He shrank from the ordeal of confronting such a crowd, so
different from the Sunday audiences he was familiar with.
There were a dozen rude benches and tables in the room, and when the
noon whistle sounded the men poured upstairs from the machine shops
below and, seating themselves at the tables, began to eat their
lunch. There were present about three hundred of them. They had read
the superintendent's notice which he had posted up in various
places, and came largely out of curiosity.
They were favorably impressed. The room was large and airy, free
from smoke and dust, and well warmed from the steam pipes. At about
twenty minutes to one Mr. Powers told the men what he had in mind.
He spoke very simply, like one who understands thoroughly the
character of his audience, and then introduced the Rev. Henry
Maxwell of the First Church, his pastor, who had consented to speak
a few minutes.
Maxwell will never forget the feeling with which for the first time
he stood before the grimy-faced audience of working men. Like
hundreds of other ministers, he had never spoken to any gatherings
except those made up of people of his own class in the sense that
they were familiar in their dress and education and habits. This was
a new world to him, and nothing but his new rule of conduct could
have made possible his message and its effect. He spoke on the
subject of satisfaction with life; what caused it, what its real
sources were. He had the great good sense on this his first
appearance not to recognize the men as a class distinct from
himself. He did not use the term working man, and did not say a word
to suggest any difference between their lives and his own.
The men were pleased. A good many of them shook hands with him
before going down to their work, and the minister telling it all to
his wife when he reached home, said that never in all his life had
he known the delight he then felt in having the handshake from a man
of physical labor. The day marked an important one in his Christian
experience, more important than he knew. It was the beginning of a
fellowship between him and the working world. It was the first plank
laid down to help bridge the chasm between the church and labor in
Raymond.
Alexander Powers went back to his desk that afternoon much pleased
with his plan and seeing much help in it for the men. He knew where
he could get some good tables from an abandoned eating house at one
of the stations down the road, and he saw how the coffee arrangement
could be made a very attractive feature. The men had responded even
better than he anticipated, and the whole thing could not help being
a great benefit to them.
He took up the routine of his work with a glow of satisfaction.
After all, he wanted to do as Jesus would, he said to himself.
It was nearly four o'clock when he opened one of the company's long
envelopes which he supposed contained orders for the purchasing of
stores. He ran over the first page of typewritten matter in his
usual quick, business-like manner, before he saw that what he was
reading was not intended for his office but for the superintendent
of the freight department.
He turned over a page mechanically, not meaning to read what was not
addressed to him, but before he knew it, he was in possession of
evidence which conclusively proved that the company was engaged in a
systematic violation of the Interstate Commerce Laws of the United
States. It was as distinct and unequivocal a breaking of law as if a
private citizen should enter a house and rob the inmates. The
discrimination shown in rebates was in total contempt of all the
statutes. Under the laws of the state it was also a distinct
violation of certain provisions recently passed by the legislature
to prevent railroad trusts. There was no question that he had in his
hands evidence sufficient to convict the company of willful,
intelligent violation of the law of the commission and the law of
the state also.
He dropped the papers on his desk as if they were poison, and
instantly the question flashed across his mind, "What would Jesus
do?" He tried to shut the question out. He tried to reason with
himself by saying it was none of his business. He had known in a
more or less definite way, as did nearly all the officers of the
company, that this had been going on right along on nearly all the
roads. He was not in a position, owing to his place in the shops, to
prove anything direct, and he had regarded it as a matter which did
not concern him at all. The papers now before him revealed the
entire affair. They had through some carelessness been addressed to
him. What business of his was it? If he saw a man entering his
neighbor's house to steal, would it not be his duty to inform the
officers of the law? Was a railroad company such a different thing?
Was it under a different rule of conduct, so that it could rob the
public and defy law and be undisturbed because it was such a great
organization? What would Jesus do? Then there was his family. Of
course, if he took any steps to inform the commission it would mean
the loss of his position. His wife and daughter had always enjoyed
luxury and a good place in society. If he came out against this
lawlessness as a witness it would drag him into courts, his motives
would be misunderstood, and the whole thing would end in his
disgrace and the loss of his position. Surely it was none of his
business. He could easily get the papers back to the freight
department and no one be the wiser. Let the iniquity go on. Let the
law be defied. What was it to him? He would work out his plans for
bettering the condition just before him. What more could a man do in
this railroad business when there was so much going on anyway that
made it impossible to live by the Christian standard? But what would
Jesus do if He knew the facts? That was the question that confronted
Alexander Powers as the day wore into evening.
The lights in the office had been turned on. The whirr of the great
engine and the clash of the planers in the big shop continued until
six o'clock. Then the whistle blew, the engine slowed up, the men
dropped their tools and ran for the block house.
Powers heard the familiar click, click, of the clocks as the men
filed past the window of the block house just outside. He said to
his clerks, "I'm not going just yet. I have something extra
tonight." He waited until he heard the last man deposit his block.
The men behind the block case went out. The engineer and his
assistants had work for half an hour but they went out by another
door.
At seven o'clock any one who had looked into the superintendent's
office would have seen an unusual sight. He was kneeling, and his face
was buried in his hands as he bowed his head upon the papers on his
desk.