HOWARD DOUGLASS'S PLAN.
It was Sunday morning at Merton after an unusually exciting week. And,
as the Rev. Howard Douglass went into his pulpit, and thoughtfully
looked at the large congregation that crowded the church, his mind was
filled with one idea, and that idea was the redemption of Freetown.
He had just come from Judge Vernon's. He had prayed in the room where
Claude Vernon lay, his young life wavering on the border-land of that
other country, where death is forever shut out, but where judgment
still is potent; and with the memory of that still, white face the
minister faced his people.
He had been spending the entire week in gathering materials for his
sermon, and the escape of the prisoner from the jail, the assault
on Claude Vernon, the son of the judge, and the uncertainty of the
prisoner's whereabouts, together with the flickering life of the young
man, formed a natural climax to what the minister had prepared. It
had been a long time since a sermon in Merton had produced such a
sensation. Yet it was quietly delivered, was full of figures, and was
not sensational in the common use of that word.
"What have we ever done to redeem Freetown?" asked Howard Douglass,
after giving the people a look at the place, fortified by undisputed
facts as to its needs. "It lies in the midst of a Christian city
practically uncared for. It is cursed and feared and criticised for
the vice and crime that flow out of it. But how much have the Christian
people of this town ever done to check or remove the source of that
evil? How much money have we ever spent over there? How much time have
we ever given from our receptions and parties and entertainments to
teach Freetown the way to eternal life?
"I am unable to escape the burden of personal responsibility whenever
I pass through this place. I believe the Judge of all the earth will
condemn the Christian disciples of Merton in the last great day if they
do not give up their endless round of pleasure-seeking and waste of
God's wealth, and personally throw the strength of their lives into the
solution of this problem.
"How shall we redeem Freetown? It is not an impossibility. It is not a
vague dream of what may be. It is within the reach of actual facts. It
can be redeemed. The place can be saved, even as a soul by itself can
be saved by Jesus. But it is God's way to save men by means of other
men. He does not save by means of angels, or in any way apart from the
use of men as the means. What will you do to redeem Freetown? I have a
plan. I want you to listen to it."
He then rapidly sketched his plan. People all over the church leaned
forward and listened excitedly. Here and there heads nodded in assent,
but for the most part there was simply a fixed attention that did not
at once show that it had reached the minister's conclusions.
The sermon was over, the last hymn sung, the benediction pronounced,
and people were going out of the church.
As they went out, they were talking over the minister's plan for
redeeming Freetown.
"What do you think of it?" asked Deacon Culver of his neighbor, the
Hon. William Brooks. Mr. Brooks was one of the most talented lawyers in
Merton.
"I think it is largely visionary. Mr. Douglass is enthusiastic and of
an imaginative temperament. But he does not take everything into the
account. I doubt if he can make his plan work."
"At the same time something ought to be done, don't you think?" asked
the deacon, a little timidly, for he had a very great respect for his
neighbor's great legal attainments.
"O, no question about the need," replied Mr. Brooks somewhat
impatiently. "But whether what Mr. Douglass proposes will do anything
or not, is a question."
"Don't you think we ought to give it a trial, at least? It is better to
try something than let matters continue as they are at present. We are
none of us safe. What is to prevent your boy or mine from meeting the
same experience as Claude Vernon?"
"I hear that he was under the influence of liquor at the time he was
assaulted. It is said he walked home through Freetown to save time, but
that he would never have done it if he had been sober," said Mr. Brooks
in a low tone.
"I'm afraid it's true," replied Deacon Culver. "It looks a little as if
we white people needed some plan to redeem us, don't you think, Brooks?"
Mr. Brooks walked on for some time without answering. Then he turned
toward the deacon, and said impressively: "Deacon, our social life here
in Merton is in a dangerous condition. There is no use to hide the
fact that we are in a serious case. Something ought to be done. I was
talking with Judge Vernon last week, and to my great surprise I found
that he believed as I do. He did not say much, but his few words showed
plainly how deeply he felt about the matter."
The deacon sighed. He had reason to feel anxious over his own boy who
was just entering college.
The two men walked on in silence. At last the deacon said: "Mr.
Brooks, I shall give all I can to make Mr. Douglass's plan a success. I
believe he is right when he says the best way to make Merton right, our
own homes included, is to work for the redemption of Freetown. I never
felt before to-day how closely all the sins of the world are bound
together. I for one have done very little to make any part of the city
what it ought to be."
"If you say that, how much do you think I have ever done?" said Mr.
Brooks with a short laugh. "At the same time, I cannot feel as you do
about that plan. It is a remarkable plan in many ways, but I believe it
will fail. I am willing to give something toward it, but I doubt very
much if it ever amounts to anything."
The two men parted, and each went into his home thinking seriously. The
conversation was in one sense a good example of the way in which the
congregation had received the minister's plan. Some opposed it. Some
had no faith in it. Some were ready at once to give money to make the
plan a success. Others thought it would be a sheer waste of time and
expense. Still others, however, were so surprised at the proposed plan
that they confessed to a need of more time to think it over.
At Judge Vernon's that afternoon a remarkable scene was taking place.
Claude still lay in his room, his condition unchanged. Judge Vernon,
his wife, and the girls were in the next room. The doctor was talking
with the family.
"There is something mysterious about this assault on Claude," said the
doctor. "The wound on his head was evidently caused by a blow from
behind, but the contusion on his face might have been made by the blow
of a fist directly in front of him."
"The police officers seemed to think there was no doubt that Burke
Williams assaulted him," said Judge Vernon slowly.
"They may be mistaken. They sometimes are."
"Why, who else could have done it, doctor?" exclaimed Isabel excitedly.
"We all know the colored people have done just such things repeatedly.
They are simply awful. They ought to be punished. I for one believe
they were a good deal better off in slavery. It's where they belong."
"Isabel!" said Mr. Vernon.
"It's what I believe. The miserable creatures! Of what use are they?"
"I feel the same," cried Winifred. "I think every negro in Freetown
ought to be transported to Africa, so we could get Merton forever rid
of them. There's no question in my mind that this wretch Williams is
guilty; and, if Claude dies, he ought to be hung."
Suddenly the family was startled by a voice from the room where Claude
was lying.
"Mother!" he called.
The doctor stepped into the room, followed by the rest.
Claude still lay with his eyes closed. Mrs. Vernon went up and kneeled
by him. He feebly moved one of his hands. His mother took it, and,
bending her head over it, placed her lips upon it while her tears fell
fast.
"Do you know me, Claude?"
"Yes. Tell father and the rest--Burke Williams--Freetown--."
He seemed to choke for a word, and there was a moment of awful
stillness in the room. They waited, but he seemed unable to speak, and
lapsed into his previous condition of stupor, leaving them smitten into
wonder and praying that he might be spared.
"Do you think we had better rouse him, doctor?" the judge asked after a
while.
"It will do no harm. He was trying to tell us about the affair in
Freetown."
They tried to rouse him from his stupor, but failed. It was growing
late in the afternoon; and, as the sun went down, they all waited and
prayed.
[Illustration: "_Have you heard the news?_"]
The evening service at Emmanuel Church was over, and the Rev. Howard
Douglass was just going out of the church with his wife, talking with
a small group of church-members, as he went, about the plan to redeem
Freetown.
As they came out upon the steps, a man came walking up hastily.
"Have you heard the news?" he called out. "They have caught Burke
Williams. He was hiding in a barn up in Freetown."
The little company of church people stood still. The minister looked
grave.
"That is not all," said the man. "I just came by Judge Vernon's. His
son died a few minutes ago."
The Rev. Howard Douglass turned to the people around him.
"Let us go back into the church and pray," he said.
They turned and entered the building. The sexton had begun to put out
the lights. They kneeled in the rear of the church and prayed for the
living. And over the city of Merton, in the thought of Howard Douglass
as he kneeled there, the Spirit was brooding, yearning that men might
listen to the words of eternal life, and turn from their sins and be
redeemed.