Needless to say that Charlie Bowen, who was the president of the Young
People's Society at this time, took particular pains to notify each
member that there would be a matter of unusual importance to discuss
at the next meeting. And so, when he called the Society to order at
eight o'clock Tuesday evening, in the lecture room of the church,
almost the entire membership, including Rev. Cameron, was present.
Dick remained in the reading room, but it was understood between the
two that he was to be called in at the proper time.
After the regular routine business had been disposed of, the president
stated that he wished to introduce a matter of great importance, which
he felt sure would interest every Christian present. He then called
to their minds some of the teaching they had heard from their pastor,
along lines of practical Christianity; noticed briefly the condition
of things in Boyd City; and asked if they would not be glad to remedy
such evils. The nodding heads and earnest faces told Charlie of their
interest. After recalling the death of the young man found by George
Udell, he told of his conversation with Dick. "I am aware that Mr.
Falkner makes no profession of Christianity," he said, "but you know
him and need no word from me to tell you of the strength of his
character." He then explained how he had asked Dick to speak to them,
and after delicately stating the latter's objections, asked if they
would receive him and listen to his ideas of Christian work.
At the close of Charlie's talk, the Society gladly voted to invite
Dick in, and three of the boys started to find him, when Rev. Cameron
rose to his feet, and in a voice full of emotion, said: "My dear young
people. Wait just a moment. My heart is moved more than I can say, by
the Christian spirit you are showing. And now, before your invitation
is carried to Mr. Falkner, let us bow our heads in prayer, that we may
be guided by the Holy Spirit in listening to the things he may have
to put before us, and in any discussion of this subject that may
follow."
A deep hush fell on the little band of young people as they followed
their pastor's example, and it seemed as if a wonderful presence filled
all the room. The thought flashed through Cameron's mind, "This must
be another step in the new era of Christian work in this city." And
then, in a few beautiful words, he voiced the prayer in the hearts of
the young people, and the committee appointed went to call Dick. They
found him nervously pacing up and down the passageway between the
reading room and the parlor. Making known the wish of the Society,
they escorted him to the meeting in the other part of the building.
He was greeted by smiling faces, nods of encouragement, and just a
faint ripple of applause, that sprung from a desire on the part of the
young people to let him know that they were glad to bid him welcome,
and ready to give him their attention.
The president stated simply that he had explained to the Society the
purpose of Mr. Falkner's visit, and that he could assure the latter
he was most heartily welcome. At Charlie's words, the ripple of applause
became a wave, which in its strength, left no doubt on Dick's mind as
to their earnestness and interest. Bowing his thanks he began, while
both Charlie and Cameron wondered at his ease of manner, and the strange
power of his simple, but well-chosen words.
"I have no means of knowing what your president may have said by way
of introduction of myself, or as a preface to my remarks, but judging
from your faces, the manner in which you receive me, and my knowledge
of him, I feel that I am safe in assuming that he has said all that
is necessary, and that I may proceed at once with my plan. But let me
add simply this: What I have to say to you is in no way new or
startling. I claim no originality, for I have simply gathered from the
works of better men that which seems to me best fitted for the needs
of this particular city. And understand, farther, that I speak in no
sense as a Christian, but from the standpoint of one to whom has been
given opportunities for study along these lines, I hope may ever be
denied you.
"As I understand it, the problem that we have to consider is, briefly,
how to apply Christ's teaching in our own town. Let me suggest first:
That there are in this city, as in every city, two classes who present
their claims for assistance; the deserving and undeserving. Any plan
which does not distinguish between these two classes must prove a
failure, because it would encourage the idle in their idleness, and
so prove a curse instead of a blessing. It would make fraud profitable
by placing a premium rather than a penalty on crime; and it would make
the sufferings of the truly unfortunate much keener by compelling them
to yield their self-respect as the price of their succor. The only
test that can possibly succeed in distinguishing between these two
classes is the test of work.
"The first thing necessary would be a suitable building. This building
should have sleeping rooms, dining room, sitting room, kitchen,
store-room and a bath room. There should also be a large yard with an
open shed in the rear. I would have the sleeping rooms small, and a
single cot in each, for you know it is sometimes good for a man to be
alone. It ought not to be hard to find twenty-five people in the church
who would furnish a room each, at a cost of say three dollars. The
reading room supplies could be donated by friends who would be glad
to give their papers and magazines when they were through with them,
just as your present room is supplied. Now if you stop to think, in
this mining city everyone burns coal, and kindling wood ought to find
a ready sale. I believe the merchants would be glad to give away their
old packing cases, boxes and barrels. These could be collected, hauled
to the yard, there worked up into kindling and delivered to the
customer. The whole establishment to be under the supervision of some
man who, with his family, could occupy rooms in the building. All the
work of the house, kitchen, dining room, care of the sleeping rooms,
and all, must be done by the inmates. When a man applied for help he
would be received on these conditions: that his time belonged wholly
to the institution, and that he receive for his work only food and
bed, with the privilege of bath and reading room of course. If he
refused to comply with these conditions, or to conform to the rules
of the institution, no food would be issued, nor would he be admitted.
"This briefly is my plan. I would be glad to have you ask questions
and make objections or suggestions, for I believe that would be the
best way to thoroughly understand the matter." Dick paused and one of
the young people asked: "What would be the cost of the building and
its furnishings?"
"That I cannot say," replied Dick. "It would depend of course upon how
large an establishment you wished to conduct. I should think a house
might be found in some convenient locality, which could be converted
into the right thing, for I would not think of a large institution at
the start. It would grow as fast as the people came to believe in it."
"You spoke of a store-room--what for?"
"Let the people contribute clothing, which could be kept and issued
by the superintendent in charge. I said store-room, that the material
might always be on hand when needed."
"Would you receive women?"
"No; they would require a separate institution with a different kind
of employment."
"Would we not need women to do the housework?"
"No, everything could be done by the men under the direction of the
superintendent's wife."
"Would the merchants contribute boxes enough?"
"That," with a bow and a smile, "is a matter for the Society to look
after. The workers at the institution would gather them up and haul
them to the yard. Old side-walks, fences, tumbled-down buildings, could
also be used, so the supply need not run short, and the city would be
much improved if these things were gathered up and utilized."
"Would the people buy the kindling-wood?"
"That again, is the business of the Society. Every member should be
a salesman. The kindling would be put up in bundles of uniform size,
warranted to be dry and to give satisfaction and delivered at the door
by the workers of course. It ought not to be difficult for you to
secure a sufficient number of regular customers to insure the success
of the business. You see, it is not a church-begging scheme, for it
benefits every person connected with it, and every person pays for
what he gets. The citizens would have the pleasure of feeling that
they were assisting only the worthy sufferers, and the satisfaction
of knowing that they were receiving their money's worth."
"Would the income be sufficient to pay all bills?" asked Cameron.
"The food, of course, could be of the plainest, and could be bought
in quantities. Twenty cents will feed a man a day. It is possible, of
course, to live on less," Dick added, with a whimsical smile, which
was met with answering smiles from the company of interested young
people. "Now suppose you had for the start, one hundred regular
customers, who would pay, each, ten cents per week for their kindling!
that would bring you ten dollars per week, which would feed seven
people. Not a large thing I grant you, but a start in the right
direction, and much more than the church is doing now. The other
expenses would not be large, and I am confident that the institution
would be self-supporting. But bear in mind that the Society must own
the grounds and building, so that there would be no rent. _That_ must
be the gift of the people to the poor."
"How would the superintendent and his wife be paid?"
"They would receive their house rent, provisions, and a small weekly
salary, paid either by the Society, the church, or the institution.
There are many men and women who would be glad to do such work."
"Would kindling-wood be the only industry?"
"I believe other things would suggest themselves. I am only planning
a start you know. I said kindling-wood because that seems to be the
most practical thing for this particular city."
"Would not men impose on the institution by working just enough to get
their food and remain idle the rest of the time?"
"That," said Dick, "is the greatest danger, but I believe it would be
met in this way: You remember I said that the time of the inmates must
be given wholly to the institution. The men could be kept busy at the
housework, scrubbing and cleaning when not in the yard. Then too, they
could be hired out to do odd jobs of rough work for the citizens; the
wages all to go to the institution. Thus, if every man was kept busy
eight hours each day, and received only his food and a place to sleep,
there would be no temptation to remain longer than necessary. The
institution would also act as an employment agency, and when a man was
offered work of any kind he would no longer be permitted to remain in
the home. Much of this would necessarily be left to the discretion of
the managers and directors."
This question seemed to bring the matter to a close as far as Dick was
concerned, and after asking if there was anything more, and again
calling attention to the fact that the greatest obstacle in the way
was a suitable building, he thanked them for their attention and took
his seat.
Then followed a warm discussion. Several spoke enthusiastically in
favor of the scheme. One or two thought it very good, but feared it
would be impossible because of the building needed. A few offered
amendments to the plan. Finally a committee was appointed to see if
a suitable building could be secured, and the meeting was adjourned.
At once the young people crowded about Dick, shaking his hand, thanking
him, asking questions, making suggestions, with now and then a happy
laugh or jest. Much to Charlie's delight, Dick, for the time being,
forgot himself and talked and laughed and prophesied with the rest
about _our_ institution and the things we would do. But in the midst
of it all, his manner suddenly changed, and making his way quickly to
Charlie's side he whispered, "Good-night, old man, I must go."
"So soon?" asked his friend in a tone of surprise.
"Yes," replied Dick hurriedly, "I must." And Charlie was left wondering
at the pain in his face, which a moment before had been so bright, for
he did not know that Dick had heard Frank Goodrich saying to his sister,
"Come, we must go home. We can't afford to associate with that tramp,"
and that he had seen Amy leaving the room on her brother's arm, without
even acknowledging his presence by so much as a glance.
The next morning bright and early, Deacon Wickham might have been seen
knocking at the door of the parsonage. "Why, good morning, Brother,"
cried Cameron, throwing wide the door and extending his hand. "What
good fortune brought you out so early? Come in. Come in."
"No good fortune, sir," replied the deacon, and seating himself very
stiffly on the edge of the straightest-backed chair in the room, he
glared with stern eyes at the pastor, who threw himself carelessly
into an easy rocker. "No good fortune, sir; I came to inquire if it
is true that you are encouraging that unscriptural organization in
their foolish and world-wise plans."
Cameron put on a puzzled look. "What organization, and what plans?"
he asked.
"There," said the good deacon, with a sigh of great relief. "I told
Sister Jones that there must be some mistake, for though you and I
don't always agree, and lock horns sometimes on certain passages of
the Scriptures, I did not believe that you were so far from the teaching
of the Word as that."
"As what?" asked Cameron again, but this time with a faint glimmer of
understanding in his voice. "Please explain, Brother Wickham."
"Why, Sister Jones came over to my house early this morning and told
me that at the meeting of the Young People's Society last night, that
young upstart Falkner, laid down plans for doing church work, and that
you were there and approved of them. That rattle-headed boy of hers
is all carried away."
The preacher nodded, "Well?"
"I could not believe it of course, but she said, as near as I could
gather, that you were going to have the church buy a house and keep
all the tramps who came to Boyd City. A more unscriptural thing I never
heard of. Were you at the meeting last night?"
"Yes, I was there," said Cameron slowly.
The official frowned again as he said sharply: "You'll do more good
for the cause, Brother Cameron, if you spend your time calling on the
members. There is Deacon Godfrey's wife hasn't been out to services
for three months because you haven't been to see her; and you're ruining
the church now by your teaching. You've got to build on a Scriptural
foundation if you want your work to last. All these people you've been
getting in the last two years don't know a thing about first
principles."
The minister tried to explain: "The plan suggested last night by Mr.
Falkner, who was there at the invitation of the Society, was simply
for an institution that would permit a man who was homeless, cold and
hungry, to pay for food and lodging until he could do better. In short,
to prevent deaths like that of the young man found frozen a few weeks
ago."
"You don't know anything about that fellow," said the deacon. "If he
had followed the teaching of the Scriptures he wouldn't have been in
that fix. The Word says plainly: 'He that provideth not for his own
is worse than an infidel.' You don't know whether he was a Christian
or not. He may have never been baptized. Indeed, I am ready to prove
that he never was, for the Scripture says that the righteous are never
forsaken, nor their seed begging for bread. I've lived nearly fifty
years now and I never went hungry and never slept out-doors either."
Cameron sat silently biting his lip; then looking his parishioner
straight in the eye, said: "Brother Wickham, I cannot harmonize your
teaching with Christ's life and character."
"My teaching is the Scripture, sir; I'll give you book, chapter and
verse," snapped the deacon.
"Christ taught and lived a doctrine of love and helpfulness toward all
men, even enemies," continued Cameron. "When I remember how he pointed
out the hungry and naked and homeless, and then said: 'Inasmuch as ye
did it not unto one of the least of these, ye did it not unto me,' I
cannot help but feel sure in my heart that we are right, and I must
tell you that Mr. Falkner's plan for doing just that work is the most
practical and common-sense one I have ever heard. The only thing I
find to wonder at is the stupidity of the church and myself, that we
did not adopt it long ago."
"Then I am to understand that you support and encourage this
unscriptural way of doing things?"
"I most certainly have given my support to the young people in this
effort; and as far as possible, will encourage and help them in their
labor of love."
"Labor of love, fiddlesticks," said the deacon; "Labor of foolishness.
You'll find, sir, that it will be better to take my advice and the
advice of the sacred writers, instead of going off after the strange
teaching of an outcast and begging infidel."
"Stop!" said Cameron, springing to his feet, and speaking in a tone
that few people ever heard him use. "I beg of you be careful that you
do not go too far. Whatever his religious convictions may be, Mr.
Falkner is neither an outcast nor a beggar; and although I am only
your pastor, it might be well for you to remember that I am also a
gentleman, and will allow no man to speak of my friends in any such
language."
"Well, well," whined Wickham hastily, holding out his hand, "The
Scriptures say that there must be love between brethren, and I want
you to know that I bear you no ill will whatever, no ill will whatever;
but I warn you, I wash my hands of the whole matter. I don't want to
know anything about it."
Cameron took the proffered hand and replied, "That's the best thing
you can do, Brother Wickham. You have discharged your duty faithfully
as an officer in the church and are released from all responsibility
whatever."
"Yes, yes," said the other, as he stood on the porch; "And don't let
them call on me for any money. Remember I wash my hands of the whole
thing. How much did you say it would cost?"
"I don't know yet, exactly."
"Well, you know I can't give anyway. I'm already doing more than my
share in a scriptural way, and I must wash my hands of this."
"Yes," said Cameron to himself, as he shut the door; "A certain Roman
governor washed his hands once upon a time." And then the pastor took
himself to task for his uncharitable spirit.
Later in the day, Rev. Cameron had another visitor. Old father Beason,
whose hair had grown white in the Master's service. He had been with
his congregation over twenty years and they would not give him up; for
while his sermons may have lost some of their youthful fire, they were
riper for the preacher's long experience, and sweeter for his nearness
to the source of love.
The old man met Cameron's outstretched hand of welcome with a smile
that, in itself, was a benediction. Though identified with a different
denomination, he was a close friend to the pastor of the Jerusalem
Church, and always stood ready to draw from his wealth of experience
for the benefit of his younger brother. When they were seated in
Cameron's cozy den with a basket of fruit between them, Rev. Beason
began:
"Brother Jim, what's this about the proposed work of your young people?
Suppose you tell me about it, if you don't mind. I've heard a good
many things to-day, and I just thought I'd run over and get the straight
of it."
Cameron laughed as he carefully selected a rosy-cheeked apple. "You're
the second caller I've had to-day who needed straightening out. I've
been wishing you would run in, and if you had not, I would have been
over to see you this evening. This work is right along lines that you
and I have talked over many times." And then he told the whole story.
When Cameron had finished, the older man asked a few questions, and
then slowly nodding his head, repeated softly: "Thy kingdom come, thy
will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven."
"Brother Cameron, you know that I belong to a church that is noted for
its conservative spirit, but I have been preaching more years than you
have lived, and have been at it too long to be bound altogether by the
particular belief of any particular people, and I want to say to you
that if I were a younger man, I would take just your course exactly.
There is no use, Brother Jim, of our flinching or dodging the question.
The church is not meeting the problems of the day, and it's my candid
opinion that ninety-nine out of every hundred preachers know it. But
I'm too old to make the fight. I haven't the strength to do it. But
my boy, do you go in to win, and may God's richest blessing rest upon
you. And you'll stir this city as it never was stirred before. I only
wish I were twenty years younger; I'd stand by you. But this needs
young blood and I am an old, worn-out man. It is almost time that I
was going home, and I dare not take up any work like this that will
need years of patient labor to complete." He arose to his feet, and
grasping Cameron's hand, said, "Good night, Brother Jim; we older men
must turn our work, all unfinished, over to younger, stronger hands
to complete. My boy, see that you keep that which is committed unto
you, and don't, Oh don't, be sidetracked by the opinions of men. The
victory will be yours, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Good-night Jim,
I thank God for this day."