|
Donald Marsh, President of Lincoln College, walked home with Mr. Maxwell.
"I have reached one conclusion, Maxwell," said Marsh, speaking slowly. "I have
found my cross and it is a heavy one; but I shall never be satisfied until I
take it up and carry it."
Maxwell was silent and the President went on:
"Your sermon to-day made clear to me what I have long been feeling I ought to
do. What would Jesus do in my place? I have asked the question repeatedly
since I made my promise. I have tried to satisfy myself that he would simply go
on as I have done, attending to the duties of my college, teaching the
classes in Ethics and Philosophy. But I have not been able to avoid the feeling
that He would do something more. That something is what I do not want to do. It
will cause me genuine suffering to do it. I dread it with all my soul. You may
be able to guess what it is?"
"Yes, I think I know. It is my cross too. I would almost rather do any thing
else."
Donald Marsh looked surprised, then relieved. Then he spoke sadly, but with
great conviction:
"Maxwell, you and I belong to a class of professional men who have always
avoided the duties of citizenship. We have lived in a little world of
literature and scholarly seclusion, doing work we have enjoyed, and shrinking
from the disagreeable duties that belong to the life of the citizen. I confess
with shame that I have purposely avoided the responsibility that I owe to this
city personally. I understand that our city officials are a corrupt,
unprincipled set of men, controlled in large part by the whiskey element, and
thoroughly selfish so far as the affairs of city government are concerned. Yet
all these years I, with nearly every teacher in the college, have been satisfied to
let other men run the municipality, and have lived in a little world of my own,
out of touch and sympathy with the real world of the people. 'What would Jesus
do?' I have even tried to avoid an honest answer. I can no longer do so. My
plain duty is to take a personal part in this coming election, go to the
primaries, throw the weight of my influence, whatever it is, toward the
nomination and election of good men, and plunge into the very depths of the
entire horrible whirlpool of deceit, bribery, political trickery and saloonism
as it exists in Raymond to-day. I would sooner walk up to the mouth of a cannon
any time than do this. I dread it because I hate the touch of the whole matter.
I would give almost any thing to be able to say, 'I do not believe Jesus would
do anything of the sort.' But I am more and more persuaded that He would. This
is where the suffering comes for me. It would not hurt me half so much to lose
my position or my home. I loathe the contact with this municipal problem. I
would so much prefer to remain quietly in my scholastic life with my classes in
Ethics and Philosophy. But the call has come to me so plainly that I cannot
escape. 'Donald Marsh, follow me. Do your duty as a citizen of Raymond at the
point where your citizenship will cost you something. Help to cleanse this
municipal stable, even if you do have to soil your aristocratic feelings a
little.' Maxwell, this is my cross, I must take it up or deny my Lord."
"You have spoken for me also," replied Maxwell, with a sad smile. "Why should I,
simply because I am a minister, shelter myself behind my refined, sensitive
feelings, and, like a coward, refuse to touch, except in a sermon, possibly, the
duty of citizenship? I am unused to the ways of the political life of the
city. I have never taken an active part in any nomination of good men. There
are hundreds of ministers like me. As a class we do not practice, in the
municipal life, the duties and privileges we preach from the pulpit. 'What would
Jesus do?' I am now at a point where, like you, I am driven to answer the question one way. My duty is plain. I must suffer. All my parish work, all
my little trials or self-sacrifices are as nothing to me compared with the
breaking into my scholarly, intellectual, self-contained habits, of this open,
coarse, public fight for a clean city life. I could go and live at the
Rectangle the rest of my life, and work in the slums for a bare living, and
I could enjoy it more than the thought of plunging into a fight for the reform
of this whiskey-ridden city. It would cost me less. But, like you, I have been
unable to shake off my responsibility. The answer to the question 'What would
Jesus do?' in this case leaves me no peace, except when I say, 'Jesus would
have me act the part of a Christian citizen.' Marsh, as you say, we professional
men -- ministers, professors, artists, literary men, scholars -- have almost
invariably been political cowards. We have avoided the sacred duties of
citizenship, either ignorantly or selfishly. Certainly Jesus, in our age, would
not do that. We can do no less than take up this cross and follow Him."
The two men walked on in silence for a while finally President March said:
"We do not need to act alone in this matter. With all the men who have made
the promise, we certainly can have companionship and strength, even of numbers.
Let us organize the Christian forces of Raymond for the battle against rum and
corruption. We certainly ought to enter the primaries with a force that will be
able to do more than enter a protest. It is a fact that the saloon element is
cowardly and easily frightened, in spite of its lawlessness and corruption. Let
us plan a campaign that will mean something because it is organized
righteousness. Jesus would use great wisdom in this matter. He would employ
means. He would make large plans. Let us do so. If we bear this cross, let us do it bravely. like
men."
They talked over the matter a long time, and met again the next day in Maxwell's
study to develop plans. The city primaries were called for Friday. Rumors of
strange and unheard-of events to the average citizen were current that week in political circles
throughout Raymond. The Crawford system of balloting for nominations was not in
use in the state, and the primary was called for a public meeting at the court-house.
The citizens of Raymond will never forget that meeting. It was so unlike any
political meeting ever held in Raymond before, that there was no attempt at
comparison. The special officers to be nominated were Mayor, City Council,
Chief of Police, City Clerk and City Treasurer.
The "Evening News," in its Saturday edition, gave a full account of the primaries,
and in the editorial columns Edward Norman spoke with a directness and
conviction that the Christian people of Raymond were learning to respect
deeply, because it was so evidently sincere and unselfish. A part of that
editorial is also a part of this history. We quote the following:
"It is safe to say that never before in the history of Raymond was there a
primary like the one in the court-house last night. It was, first of all, a
complete surprise to the city politicians, who have been in the habit of
carrying on the affairs of the city as if they owned them, and every one else
was simply a tool or a cipher. The overwhelming surprise of the wire-pullers
last night consisted in the fact that a large number of the citizens of
Raymond who have heretofore taken no part in the city's affairs, entered the
primary and controlled it, nominating some of the best men for all the offices
to be filled at the coming election.
"It was a tremendous lesson in good citizenship. President Marsh, of Lincoln
College, who never before entered a city primary, and whose face was not even
known to the ward politicians, made one of the best speeches ever made in
Raymond. It was almost ludicrous to see the faces of the men who for years have
done as they pleased, when President Marsh rose to speak. Many of them asked,
'Who is he?' The consternation deepened as the primary proceeded, and it
became evident that the old-time ring of city rulers was outnumbered. Rev. Henry Maxwell of the First Church, Milton Wright, Alexander Powers,
Professors Brown, Willard and Park of Lincoln College, Dr. West, Rev. George
Main of the Pilgrim Church, Dean Ward of the Holy Trinity, and scores of well-known business men and professional men, most of them church members, were
present, and it did not take long to see that they had all come with the one
direct and definite purpose of nominating the best men possible. Most of those
men had never before been seen in a primary. They were complete strangers to
the politicians. But they had evidently profited by the politician's methods
and were able by organized and united effort, to nominate the entire ticket.
"As soon as it became plain that the primary was out of their control, the
regular ring withdrew in disgust and nominated another ticket. The 'News' simply
calls the attention of all decent citizens to the fact that this last ticket
contains the names of whiskey men, and the line is sharply and distinctly
drawn between the saloon and corrupt management such as we have known for
years, and a clean, honest, capable, business-like city administration, such as
every good citizen ought to want. It is not necessary to remind the people of
Raymond that the question of local option comes up at the election. That will
be the most important question on the ticket. The crisis of our city affairs
has been reached. The issue is squarely before us. Shall we continue the rule
of rum and boodle and shameless incompetency, or shall we, as President
Marsh said in his noble speech, rise as good citizens and begin a new order of
things, cleansing our city of the worst enemy known to municipal honesty, and
doing what lies in our power to do with the ballot, to purify our civic life?
"The 'News' is positively and without reservation on the side of the new
movement. We shall henceforth do all in our power to drive out the saloon and
destroy its political strength. We shall advocate the election of the men
nominated by the majority of citizens met in the first primary, and we call upon
all Christians, church members, lovers of right, purity, temperance, and the home, to stand by President Marsh and the rest of the citizens
who have thus begun a long-needed reform in our city."
President Marsh read this editorial and thanked God for Edward Norman. At the
same time he understood well enough that every other paper in Raymond was on
the other side. He did not underestimate the importance and seriousness of the
fight which was only just begun. It was no secret that the 'News' had lost
enormously since it had been governed by the standard of "What would Jesus do?"
The question now was, "Would the Christian people of Raymond stand by it?" Would
they make it possible for Norman to conduct a daily Christian paper? Or would
the desire for what is called "news," in the way of crime, scandal, political
partisanship of the regular sort, and a dislike to champion so remarkable a
reform in journalism, influence them to drop the paper and refuse to give it
their financial support? That was, in fact, the question Edward Norman was
asking even while he wrote that Saturday editorial. He knew well enough that
his action expressed in that editorial would cost him heavily from the
hands of many business men in Raymond. And still, as he drove his pen over
the paper he asked another question, "What would Jesus do?" That question had
become a part of his whole life now. It was greater than any other.
But for the first time in its history, Raymond had seen the professional men,
the teachers, the college professors, the doctors, the ministers, take
political action and put themselves definitely and sharply in public antagonism
to the evil forces that had so long controlled the machine of the municipal
government. The fact itself was astounding. President Marsh acknowledged to
himself with a feeling of humiliation, that never before had he known what
civic righteousness could accomplish. From that Friday night's work he dated
for himself and his college a new definition of the worn phrase, "the Scholar
in Politics." Education for him and these who were under his influence, ever
after meant some element of suffering. Sacrifice must now enter into the factor of development.
At the Rectangle that week the tide of spiritual life rose high, and as yet
showed no signs of flowing back. Rachel and Virginia went every night. Virginia
was rapidly reaching a conclusion with respect to a large part of her money.
She had talked it over with Rachel, and they had been able to agree that
if Jesus had a vast amount of money at His disposal He might do with some of it
as Virginia planned. At any rate they felt that whatever he might do in such
case would have as large an element of variety in it as the differences in
persons and circumstances. There could be no one, fixed, Christian way of using
money. The rule that regulated its use was unselfish utility.
But meanwhile the glory of the Spirit's power possessed all their best thought.
Night after night that week witnessed miracles as great as walking on the sea,
or feeding the multitude with a few loaves and fishes. For what greater miracle
is there than a regenerated humanity? The transformation of these coarse,brutal,
sottish lives, into praying, rapturous lovers of Christ struck Rachel and
Virginia every time with the feeling that people may have had when they saw
Lazarus walk out of the tomb. It was an experience full of profound excitement
for them.
Rollin Page came to all the meetings. There was no doubt of the change that had
come over him. Rachel had not yet spoken much with him. He was wonderfully
quiet. It seemed as if he was thinking all the time. Certainly he was not the
same person. He talked more with Gray than with any one else. He did not avoid
Rachel, but he seemed to shrink from any appearance of seeming to renew the
acquaintance with her. Rachel found it even difficult to express to him her
pleasure at the new life he had begun to know. He seemed to be waiting to
adjust himself to his previous relations before this new life began. He had not
forgotten those relations. But he was not yet able to fit his consciousness
into new ones.
The end of the week found the Rectangle struggling hard between two mighty
opposing forces. The Holy Spirit was battling with all his supernatural
strength against the saloon devil which had so long held a jealous grasp on its
slaves. If the Christian people of Raymond once could realize what the contest
meant to the souls newly awakened to a purer life, it did not seem possible that
the election could result in the old system of license. But that remained yet
to be seen. The horror of the daily surroundings of many of the converts was
slowly burning its way into the knowledge of Virginia and Rachel, and every
night as they went uptown to their luxurious homes they carried heavy hearts.
"A good many of these poor creatures will go back again," Gray would say with sadness too deep for tears. "The environment does have a
good deal to do with the character. It does not stand to reason that these
people can always resist the sight and smell of the devilish drink about them.
O Lord, how long shall Christian people continue to support by their silence
and their ballots the greatest form of slavery known in America?"
He asked the question, and did not have much hope of an immediate answer.
There was a ray of hope in the action of Friday night's primary, but what the
result would be he did not dare to anticipate. The whiskey forces were
organized, alert, aggressive, roused into unusual hatred by the events of the
last week at the tent in the city. Would the Christian forces act as a unit
against the saloon? Or would they be divided on account of their business
interests, or because they were not in the habit of acting all together, as the
whiskey power always did? That remained to be seen. Meanwhile the saloon reared
itself about the Rectangle like some deadly viper, hissing and coiling, ready
to strike its poison into any unguarded part.
Saturday afternoon, as Virginia was just stepping out of her house to go and
see Rachel to talk over her new plans, a carriage drove up containing three of
her fashionable friends. Virginia went out to the driveway and stood there talking with them. They had
not come to make a formal call, but wanted Virginia to go driving with them up
on the boulevard. There was a band concert in the Park. The day was too
pleasant to be spent indoors.
"Where have you been all this time, Virginia?"
asked one of the girls, tapping her playfully on the shoulder with a red silk
parasol. ""We hear that you have gone into the show business. Tell us about
it."
Virginia colored, but after a moment's hesitation she frankly told something
of her experience at the Rectangle. The girls in the carriage began to be
really interested.
"I tell you, girls, let's go 'slumming' with Virginia this afternoon instead
of going to the band concert. I've never been down to the Rectangle. I've heard
it's an awful wicked place and lots to see. Virginia will act as guide, and it
would be real," -- "fun" she was going to say, but Virginia's look made her substitute
the word "interesting."
Virginia was angry. At first thought she said to herself she would never go
under such circumstances. The other girls seemed to be of the same mind with
the speaker. They chimed in with earnestness and asked Virginia to take them
down there.
Suddenly she saw in the idle curiosity of the girls an opportunity. They had
never seen the sin and misery of Raymond. Why should they not see it, even if
their motive in going down there was simply to pass away an afternoon.
"Very well, I'll go with you. You must obey my orders and let me take you
where you can see the most," she said, as she entered the carriage and took the
seat beside the girl who had first suggested the trip to the Rectangle.
|
