The Crucifixion of Philip Strong | Page 9

Society. His subject this morning, he said, was "The Right and Wrong
Uses of Property."
He started out with the statement, which he claimed was verified
everywhere in the word of God, that all property that men acquire is

really only in the nature of trust funds, which the property holder is in
duty bound to use as a steward. The gold is God's. The silver is God's.
The cattle on a thousand hills. All land and water privileges and wealth
of the earth and of the seas belong primarily to the Lord of all the earth.
When any of this property comes within the control of a man, he is not
at liberty to use it as if it were his own, and his alone, but as God would
have him use it, to better the condition of life, and make men and
communities happier and more useful.
From this statement Philip went on to speak of the common idea which
men had, that wealth and houses and lands were their own, to do with
as they pleased; and he showed what misery and trouble had always
flowed out of this great falsehood, and how nations and individuals
were to-day in the greatest distress, because of the wrong uses to which
God's property was put by men who had control of it. It was easy then
to narrow the argument to the condition of affairs in Milton. As he
stepped from the general to the particular, and began to speak of the
rental of saloons and houses of gambling from property owners in
Milton, and then characterized such a use of God's property as wrong
and unchristian, it was curious to note the effect on the congregation.
Men who had been listening complacently to Philip's eloquent but quiet
statements, as long as he confined himself to distant historical facts,
suddenly became aware that the tall, palefaced, resolute and loving
young preacher up there was talking right at them; and more than one
mill-owner, merchant, real estate dealer, and even professional man,
writhed inwardlly[sic], and nervously shifted in his cushioned pew, as
Philip spoke in the plainest terms of the terrible example set the world
by the use of property for purposes which were destructive to all true
society, and a shame to civilization and Christianity. Philip controlled
his voice and his manner admirably, but he drove the truth home and
spared not. His voice at no time rose above a quiet conversational tone,
but it was clear and distinct. The audience sat hushed in the spell of a
genuine sensation, which deepened when, at the close of a tremendous
sentence, which swept through the church like a red-hot flame, Mr.
Winter suddenly arose in his pew, passed out into the aisle, and
marched deliberately down and out of the door. Philip saw him and
knew the reason, but marched straight on with his message, and no one,

not even his anxious wife, who endured martyrdom for him that
morning, could detect any disturbance in Philip from the mill-owner's
contemptuous withdrawal.
When Philip closed with a prayer of tender appeal that the Spirit of
Truth would make all hearts to behold the truth as one soul, the
audience remained seated longer than usual, still under the influence of
the subject and the morning's sensational service. All through the day
Philip felt a certain strain on him, which did not subside even when the
evening service was over. Some of the members, notably several of the
mothers, thanked him, with tears in their eyes, for his morning message.
Very few of the men talked with him. Mr. Winter did not come out to
the evening service, although he was one of the very few men members
who were invariably present. Philip noted his absence, but preached
with his usual enthusiasm. He thought a larger number of strangers was
present than he had seen the Sunday before. He was very tired when the
day was over.
The next morning, as he was getting ready to go out for a visit to one of
the mills, the bell rang. He was near the door and opened it. There
stood Mr. Winter. "I would like to see you a few moments, Mr. Strong,
if you can spare the time," said the mill-owner, without offering to take
the hand Philip extended.
"Certainly. Will you come up to my study?" asked Philip, quietly.
The two men went upstairs, and Philip shut the door, as he motioned
Mr. Winter to a seat, and then sat down opposite.
CHAPTER III.
"I have come to see you about your sermon of yesterday morning,"
began Mr. Winter, abruptly. "I consider what you said was a direct
insult to me personally."
"Suppose I should say it was not so intended," replied Philip, with