"'It is a great mistake which many people make, church-members among the rest, that the money they get is their own to do with as they please.

Men have no right to use anything as they please unless G.o.d pleases so too.

"'The acc.u.mulation of vast sums of money by individuals or cla.s.ses of men has always been a bad thing for society. A few very rich men and a great number of very poor men is what gave the world the French Revolution and the guillotine.

"'There are certain conditions true of society at certain times when it is the Christian duty of the rich to use every cent they possess to relieve the need of society. Such a condition faces us to-day.

"'The foolish and unnecessary expenditures of society on its trivial pleasures at a time when men and women are out of work and children are crying for food is a cruel and unchristian waste of opportunity.

"'If Christ were here to-day I believe he would tell the rich men of Milton that every cent they have belongs to Almighty G.o.d, and they are only trustees of his property.

"'This is the only true use of wealth: that the man who has it recognize its power and privilege to make others happy, not provide himself luxury.

"'The church that thinks more of fine architecture and paid choirs than of opening its doors to the people that they may hear the gospel, is a church that is mortgaged for all it is worth to the devil, who will foreclose at the first opportunity.

"'The first duty of every man who has money is to ask himself, What would Christ have me do with it? The second duty is to go and do it, after hearing the answer.

"'If the money owned by church-members were all spent to the glory of G.o.d there would be fewer hundred-thousand-dollar churches built and more model tenements.

"'If Christ had been a millionaire he would have used his money to build up character in other people, rather than build a magnificent brown-stone palace for himself. But we cannot imagine Christ as a millionaire.

"'It is just as true now as when Paul said it nearly twenty centuries ago: "The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil;" it is the curse of our civilization, the greatest G.o.d of the human race to-day.

"'Our civilization is only partly Christian. For Christian civilization means more comforts; ours means more wants.

"'If a man's pocket-book is not converted with his soul the man will not get into heaven with it.

"'There are certain things that money alone can secure; but among those things it cannot buy is character.

"'All wealth, from the Christian standpoint, is in the nature of trust funds, to be so used as the administrator, G.o.d, shall direct. No man owns the money for himself. The gold is G.o.d's, the silver is G.o.d's! That is the plain and repeated teaching of the Bible.

"'It is not wrong for a man to make money. It is wrong for him to use it selfishly or foolishly.

"'The consecrated wealth of the men of Milton could provide work for every idle man in town. The Christian use of the wealth of the world would make impossible the cry for bread.

"'Most of the evils of our present condition flow out of the love of money. The almighty dollar is the G.o.d of Protestant America.

"'If men loved men as eagerly as they love money the millennium would be just around the corner.

"'Wealth is a curse unless the owner of it blesses the world with it.

"'If any man hath the world's goods, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his compa.s.sion from him, how dwelleth the love of G.o.d in him?

"'Christian Socialism teaches a man to bear other people's burdens. The very first principle of Christian Socialism is unselfishness.

"'We shall never see a better condition of affairs in this country until the men of wealth realize their responsibility and privilege.

"'Christ never said anything against the poor. He did speak some tremendous warnings in the face of the selfish rich.

"'The only safe thing for a man of wealth to do is to ask himself, What would Christ do with my money if he had it?

"'Everything a man has is G.o.d's. On that profound principle the whole of human life should rest. We are not our own; we have been bought with a price.'

"It would be impossible to describe the effect of the Rev. Mr. Strong's talk upon the audience. Once the applause was so long continued that it was a full minute before he could go on. When he finally closed with a tremendous appeal to the wealth of Milton to use its power for the good of the place, for the tearing down and remodeling of the tenements, for the solution of the problem of no work for thousands of desperate men, the audience rose to its feet and cheered again and again.

"At the close of the meeting the minister was surrounded by a crowd of men, and an after meeting was held, at which steps were taken to form a committee composed of prominent church people and labor leaders to work, if possible, together toward a common end.

"It was rumored yesterday that several of the leading-members of Calvary Church are very much dissatisfied with the way things have been going during these Sunday-evening meetings, and are likely to withdraw if they continue. They say that Mr. Strong's utterances are socialistic and tend to inflame the minds of the people to acts of violence. Since the attack on Mr. Winter nearly every mill-owner in town goes armed and takes extra precautions. Mr. Strong was much pleased with the result of the Sunday-night meetings and said they had done much to bridge the gulf between the church and the people. He refused to credit the talk about disaffection in Calvary Church."

In another column of this same paper were five separate accounts of the desperate condition of affairs in the town. The midnight hold-up attacks were growing in frequency and in boldness. Along with all the rest, the sickness in the tenement district had a.s.sumed the nature of an epidemic of fever, clearly caused by the lack of sanitary regulations, imperfect drainage, and crowding of families. Clearly the condition of matters was growing serious.

At this time the minsters[sic] of different churches in Milton held a meeting to determine on a course of action that would relieve some of the distress. Various plans were submitted. Some proposed districting the town to ascertain the number of needly[sic] families. Others proposed a union of benevolent offerings to be given the poor. Another group suggested something else. To Philip's mind not one of the plans submitted went to the root of the matter. He was not popular with the other ministers. Most of them thought he was sensational. However, he made a plea for his own plan, which was radical and as he believed went to the real heart of the subject. He proposed that every church in town, regardless of its denomination, give itself in its pastor and members to the practical solution of the social troubles by personal contact with the suffering and sickness in the district; that the churches all throw open their doors every day in the week, weekdays as well as Sundays, for the discussion and agitation of the whole matter; that the country and the State be pet.i.tioned to take speedy action toward providing necessary labor for the unemployed; and that the churches cut down all unnecessary expenses of paid choirs, do away with pew rents, urge wealthy members to consecrate their riches to the solving of the problem, and in every way, by personal sacrifice and common union, let the churches of Milton as a unit work and pray and sacrifice to make themselves felt as a real power on the side of the people in their present great need. It was Christian America, but Philip's plan was not adopted. It was discussed with some warmth, but declared to be visionary, impracticable, unnecessary, not for the church to undertake, beyond its function, etc. Philip was disappointed, but he kept his temper.

"Well, brethren," he said, "what can we do to help the solution of these questions? Is the church of America to have no share in the greatest problem of human life that agitates the world to-day? Is it not true that the people in this town regard the Church as an insignificant organization, unable to help at the very point of human crisis, and the preachers as a lot weak, impractical men, with no knowledge of the real state of affairs? Are we not divided over our denominational differences when we ought to be united in one common work for the saving of the whole man? I do not have any faith in the plan proposed to give our benevolence or to district the town and visit the poor. All those things are well enough in their place. But matters are in such shape here now and all over the country that we must do something larger than that. We must do as Christ would do if He were here. What would He do? Would He give anything less than His whole life to it? Would He not give Himself?

The Church as an inst.i.tution is facing the greatest opportunity it ever saw. If we do not seize it on the largest possible scale we shall miserably fail of doing our duty."

When the meeting adjourned Philip was aware he had simply put himself out of touch with the majority present. They did not, they could not, look upon the Church as he did. A committee was appointed to investigate the matter and propose a plan of action at the next meeting in two weeks. And Philip went home almost bitterly smiling at the little bulwark which Milton churches proposed to rear against the tide of poverty and crime and drunkenness and political demagogy and wealthy selfishness. To his mind it was a house of paper cards in the face of a tornado.

Sat.u.r.day night he was out calling a little while, but he came home early. It was the first Sunday of the month on the morrow, and he had not fully prepared his sermon. He was behind with it. As he came in, his wife met him with a look of news on her face.

"Guess who is here?" she said in a whisper.

"The Brother Man," replied Philip, quickly.

"Yes, but you never can guess what has happened. He is in there with William. And the Brother Man--Philip, it seems like a chapter out of a novel--the Brother Man has discovered that William is his only son, who cursed his father and deserted him when he gave away his property. They are in there together. I could not keep the Brother Man out."

Philip and Sarah stepped to the door of the little room, which was open, and looked in.

The Brother Man was kneeling at the side of the bed praying, and his son was listening, with one hand tight-clasped in his father's, and the tears rolling over his pale face.

CHAPTER XXI.

When the Brother Man had finished his prayer he rose, and stooping over his son he kissed him. Then he turned about and faced Philip and Sarah, who almost felt guilty of intrusion in looking at such a scene. But the Brother Man wore a radiant look. To Philip's surprise he was not excited. The same ineffable peace breathed from his entire person. To that peace was now added a fathomless joy.

"Yes," he said very simply, "I have found my son which was lost. G.o.d is good to me. He is good to all His children. He is the All-Father. He is Love."

"Did you know your son was here?" Philip asked.

"No, I found him here. You have saved his life. That was doing as He would."

"It was very little we could do," said Philip, with a sigh. He had seen so much trouble and suffering that day that his soul was sick within him. Yet he welcomed this event in his home. It seemed like a little brightness of heaven on earth.

The sick man was too feeble to talk much. The tears and the hand-clasp with his father told the story of his reconciliation, of the bursting out of the old love, which had not been extinguished, only smothered for a time. Philip thought best that he should not become excited with the meeting, and in a little while drew the Brother Man out into the other room.

By this time it was nearly ten o'clock. The old man stood hesitating in a curious fashion when Philip asked him to be seated. And again, as before, he asked if he could find a place to stay over night.