In His Steps | Page 9

beginning.
He closed the Bible and, stepping out at the side of the desk, faced his
people and began to talk to them about the remarkable scene of the
week before.
"Our brother," somehow the words sounded a little strange coming
from his lips, "passed away this morning. I have not yet had time to
learn all his history. He had one sister living in Chicago. I have written
her and have not yet received an answer. His little girl is with us and
will remain for the time."
He paused and looked over the house. He thought he had never seen so
many earnest faces during his entire pastorate. He was not able yet to
tell his people his experiences, the crisis through which he was even
now moving. But something of his feeling passed from him to them,
and it did not seem to him that he was acting under a careless impulse
at all to go on and break to them this morning something of the
message he bore in his heart.
So he went on: "The appearance and words of this stranger in the
church last Sunday made a very powerful impression on me. I am not
able to conceal from you or myself the fact that what he said, followed
as it has been by his death in my house, has compelled me to ask as I
never asked before 'What does following Jesus mean?' I am not in a
position yet to utter any condemnation of this people or, to a certain
extent, of myself, either in our Christ-like relations to this man or the
numbers that he represents in the world. But all that does not prevent
me from feeling that much that the man said was so vitally true that we
must face it in an attempt to answer it or else stand condemned as
Christian disciples. A good deal that was said here last Sunday was in
the nature of a challenge to Christianity as it is seen and felt in our
churches. I have felt this with increasing emphasis every day since.
"And I do not know that any time is more appropriate than the present
for me to propose a plan, or a purpose, which has been forming in my
mind as a satisfactory reply to much that was said here last Sunday."
Again Henry Maxwell paused and looked into the faces of his people.
There were some strong, earnest men and women in the First Church.
He could see Edward Norman, editor of the Raymond DAILY NEWS.
He had been a member of the First Church for ten years.
No man was more honored in the community. There was Alexander

Powers, superintendent of the great railroad shops in Raymond, a
typical railroad man, one who had been born into the business. There
sat Donald Marsh, president of Lincoln College, situated in the suburbs
of Raymond. There was Milton Wright, one of the great merchants of
Raymond, having in his employ at least one hundred men in various
shops. There was Dr. West who, although still comparatively young,
was quoted as authority in special surgical cases. There was young
Jasper Chase the author, who had written one successful book and was
said to be at work on a new novel. There was Miss Virginia Page the
heiress, who through the recent death of her father had inherited a
million at least, and was gifted with unusual attractions of person and
intellect. And not least of all, Rachel Winslow, from her seat in the
choir, glowed with her peculiar beauty of light this morning because
she was so intensely interested in the whole scene.
There was some reason, perhaps, in view of such material in the First
Church, for Henry Maxwell's feeling of satisfaction whenever he
considered his parish as he had the previous Sunday. There was an
unusually large number of strong, individual characters who claimed
membership there. But as he noted their faces this morning he was
simply wondering how many of them would respond to the strange
proposition he was about to make. He continued slowly, taking time to
choose his words carefully, and giving the people an impression they
had never felt before, even when he was at his best with his most
dramatic delivery.
"What I am going to propose now is something which ought not to
appear unusual or at all impossible of execution. Yet I am aware that it
will be so regarded by a large number, perhaps, of the members of this
church. But in order that we may have a thorough understanding of
what we are considering, I will put my proposition very plainly,
perhaps bluntly. I want volunteers from the First Church who will
pledge themselves, earnestly and honestly for an