Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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t. m. grist & sons, Publishers. ! Jf j'amiltj $ttrspapcr: ^or the promotion of fhr jpotitirat, Social, Agricultural, and Commercial Jiitcrcsts of the people. {cENTsA!<ct' ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE. S. C., WEDNESDAY, JANU ARY 31, 1900. NO. ' ' I THE CRUCII OF PHjLJ By REV. CHARLE Author of "In His Steps: What Would Hardy's Seven synopsis ok rKBViuua inaiAuujioti In order that new readers of The Enquirer may begin with the following installment ot this story, and understand it just the same as though they had read it all from the beginning, we here give a synopsis of that portion of it which has already been published: Philip Strong, a minister, receives two calls, one to a college town, where he may live a quiet, scholarly life, to his liking, the other to a manfacturing town where there is plenty of work to do among the laboring classes. He accepts the more active field. Philip discovers that a number of his wealthy parishioners have property rented for saloons and gambling houses. He interviews one of them and is advised that he had better not stir up the matter. The next Sunday he preaches upon the subject, and Mr. Winter, one of his most prominent parishioners, having property rented for such purposes, rises from ills seat and walks out or the church. The next morning Winter calls on the minister and resents what he calls an insult to himself, then, threatening to withdraw his support from the church, retires in high dudgeon. The sermon creates great excitement, and the next Sunday a large crowd attends Philip's church, expecting a sensational sermon; but Philip disappoints them, preaching on a different subject entirely. , Philip attacks the saloons and preaches 1 against them to a large congregation. He calls | upon Ills pwple to join wun nun in uu ?i? tempt to exterminate them. Later he leaves 1 his house to visit a sick child, and a man on < the opposite side of the street tires two shot at . him. Philip has been severely though not 1 mortally wounded. His assassin is arrested 1 and, at Philip's request, is brought before him. . Philip assures him that he bears him no ill will and prays for him. Philip preaches on I the Sunday question and makes new enemies. i Coming home one evening, he finds his wife in a faint on the floor, a knife stuck into the < desk and two anonymous scrawls, one ad- . dressed "To the Preacher," the other "To the Preacher's Wife." They were warnings to 1 leave the town. The minister's wife begs her husband to leave the Held for another, but in- 1 stead he prepares to continue the war against / the devil there and in his own fashion. Philip astonishes his parishioners by proposing to move their church edifice into the tenement ' district. He speaks to the laboring men at ) their hall and unintentionally influences them against the rich by holding up the selfishness ' of many rich people. When he goes home, he < is informed that a mob is threatening Mr. . Winter at his residence. Philip goes to the ' scene and rescues Mr. Winter from the mob. < Philip preaches against wasteful expenditures when the poor are in need and is visited by a ' stranger who asks for fooa and shelter, who ; tells his benefactor that he lives too extrava- j gantly for one who preaches against extravagance. Philip calls him "Brother Man." i Philip takes the words of the stranger to heart and acts upon them. He requests his congregation to reduce his salary one-half and < fit up the parsonage for a refuge for homeless , children. Philip discusses his proposition ' with the trustees of his church, who oppose s his plan. j ( L CHAPTER XIV. i Tin* following week Calvary eburch s held a meeting. It was one of the ] stormiest meetings ever held by the 1 members. In that meeting Mr. Win- l ter again, to the surprise of nearly < all. advised caution and defended the 1 minister's action up to a certain point, t The result was a condition of waiting < and expectancy rather than downright < condemnation of the proposed action i on Philip's part. It would be presenting < the church in a false light to picture j It as entirely opposed up to this date i to Philip's preaching and ideas of 1 Christian living. He had built up a < strong buttress of admiring and be- ? lieving members in the church. This ] stood, with Mr. Winter's influence, as I a breakwater against the tidal wave of < opposition now beginning to pour in i upon him. There was an element in i Calvary church conservative to a de- < gree and yet strong in its growing be- < lief that Christian action and church < work in the world had reached a cer- < tain crisis which would result either < in the death or life of the church in j America. Philip's preaching had ; strengthened this feeling. His last < move had startled this element, and ; it wished to wait for developments. < The proposal of some that the minis- | ter be requested to resign was finally < overruled, and it was decided not to | oppose his desertion of the parsonage, < while the matter of reduction of sal- < ary was voted upon in the negative. j But feeling was roused to a high i pitch. Mauy of the members declared i their Intention of refusing to attend < services. Seme said they would not ' pay their pieties auy lunger. A pre- i vailing minority, however, ruled in fa- ( vor of Philip, and the action of the ] meeting was formally sent him by the | clerk. i Meanwhile Philip moved out of the I parsonage into his new quarters. The | daily paper, which hail given a sensational account of his sermon, laying ? most stress upon his voluntary proposi- | tion referring to his salary, now came j out with a column and a half devoted to his carrying out of his determination to abandon the parsonage and get near- | er tile people in the tenements. The I article was widely copied and variously commented upon. In Milton his ac- | tlon was condemned by many, defended by some. Very few seemed to tin- ( derstand his exact motive. The majority took it as an eccentric move and i ill olio t'niMii IIml IIII- ! .??.vv other that a man of such marked iu- ( telleetual power as Mr. Strong seemed to possess lacked balance and good Judgment. Some called him a crank. The people in the tenement district were too much absorbed in their sufferings and selfishness to show any demonstration. It remained to be seen ( whether they would be any better touched by him in his new home. So matters stood when the tirst Sunday of a new month came and Mr. , Strong again stood before his church with his Christ message. It had been a wearing month to him. Gradually there had been growing upon him a sense of almost isolation in his pulpit work. lie wondered if lie had inter- ] preted Christ aright. He probed deep- \ er and deeper into the springs of aetiou j that moved the historical Jesus and j again and again put that respleudently calm, majestic, suffering personality | into his own pulpit in Milton and then j stood off. as it were, to watch what he would in all human probability say. \ TON IP STRONG S M. SHELDON, Jesus Do?," "Malcom Kirk," "Robe Days," Etc. There sat the Brother Man on the step. [Te reviewed all Ids own sayings o" [hose first Sundays and tried to ta: limself with utmost severity for an, Jenial of ids Master or any fals presentation of ids spirit, and as b went over the ground he was almos jverwhelmed to think how little ha seen really accomplished. This tim tie came before tiie church with th experience of nearly three weeks' ban to band work among the people fo whose sake lie had moved out of th parsonage. As usual au immense cor jregation thronged tlie church. "The question lias come to me latel n different forms." began Philip, "a to what is church work. I am a war ?... ott!t,i/l,i rm tlio nimsfinn is no shared by many of the members o :his church and other churches. Ne\ rtheless I stand here today, as I bav stood ou these Sundays, to declare t rou what in deepest humility wouh seem to me to be the attitude of Chris n the matter before us. "What is a church? It is a body o lisciples professing to acknowledg Christ as Master. What does he wau such a body to do? Whatever wil nost effectively make God's kingdon ?ome on earth and his will be done a u heaven. What is the most neces sary work of tliis church in Milton It is to go out and seek aud save th ost. It is to take up its cross and fol ow the Master. And as I see him tc lay he beckons this church to follov aim into the tenements and slums o :his town and lie Christs to those wh lo not know him. As I see him h< stands beckoning with pierced palm n the direction of suffering and dis use and ignorance and vice and pa janism. saying. "Here is where th ivork of Calvary church lies.' I do no jelieve the work of this church con sists in having so many meetings ant socials and pleasant gatherings and de ightful occasions among its own mem jers. but the real work of this churcl ?onsists in getting out of its own lit tie circle in which it lias been s< many years moving anil going in an; nay most effective to the world' wounded to hind up the hurt and be i savior to the lost. If we do not un iorstnnd this to he the true meaning o dmrch work, then I believe we rais its whole meaning. Church work ii Milton today does not cousist in iloini simply what your fathers did befor rou. It means helping to make a cleau cr town, the purification of our munici pal life, the actual planning and ac coniplishmeut of means to reliev physical distress, a thorough under standing of the problem of labor am capital?in brief, church work toda; in this town is whatever is most need ihI to be done to prove to this towi that we are what we profess our selves to be. disciples of Jesus Chrisl That is the reason I give more time t the tenement district problem than t< calling on families that are well an* in possession of great comforts am privileges. That is the reason 1 cal un this church to do Christ's work ii his name aud give itself to save tha part of our towu." This is but the briefest of th sketches of Philip's sermon. It was i part of himself, his experience, hi heart belief. He poured it out ou th vast audience with little saving of hi vitality. And that Sunday he wen home at night exhausted, with a fee] ing of weariness partly due to hi work during the week among the pec pie. The calls upon his time am strength had been incessant, and b did not know where or when to stop. It was three weeks after this set mou on church work that Philip wa again surprised by his strange visito of a month before. lie had been ou making some visits in company wit! his wife. When they came back to th house, there sat the Brother Man o: the doorstep. At sight of him Philip felt that sam thrill of expectancy which had passe< over him at ids former appearance. The nl' man stood up and took ol his hat. 'e looked very tired and soi rowful. lint there breathed from hi entire bearing the element of a perfec peace. "Brother Man." said Philip cheerilj "come In and rest yourself." "Can you keep me overnight?" The question was put wistfully Philip was struck by the differeuc* jetween this almost shrinking reqiics uul the self invitation of a month be "ore. "Yes, indeed. We have one spar ootn for you. You are welcome. Coin n." So they went in. and after tea th two sat dowu together while Mr; Strong was busy In the kitchen. A h part of this conversation was after- tl ward related by the minister to his s< wife. A part of It he afterward said h, was unreportable?the manner of tone, the inflection, the gesture of his re- p markabie guest no man could reproduce. h "You have moved since I saw you tl last," said the visitor. ii "Yes," replied Philip. "You did not ^ expect me to act on your advice so tl soon ?" "My advice?" The question came in tl rt a hesitating tone. "Did I advise you w to move? Ah. yes. I remember!" A a, light like supremest reason flashed over al the man's face and then died out w "Yes. yes; you are beginulug to live on q your simpler basis. You are doing as pi you preach. That must feel good." u< "Yes," replied Philip, "it does feel good. Do you think. Brother Man, that ei this will help to solve the problem?" a "What problem?" ti "Why. the problem of the church and ^ the people?winning them, saving tl them." in "Are your church members moving Sl out of their elegant houses and coming m down here to live?" The old man ask- e( ed the question in utmost simplicity. St "No; I did not ask them." w "You ought to." A "What! Do you believe my people hi ought literally to leave their posses- g, sions and live among the people?" hi Philip could not help asking the ki question, and all the time he was con- a scious of a strange absurdity, mingled ai n with an unaccouutable respect for his x visitor and his opiuiou. tl y "Yes." came the reply, with the ie e calmness of light. "Christ would dee tnand it if he were pastor of Calvary rc :t church in this age. The church mem- ai d hers, the Christians in this century, hi e must renounce all that they have or tt e they cannot be his disciples." 8t d Philip sat profoundly silent The et r words spoken so quietly by this crea- to e ture tossed upon his own soul like a to """""I ? Amnnet Mn tlnrofl nnt cnv 1" V C33CI 1LI a I. Viu u. IAV uui vu -w anything for a moment. The Brother h< y Man looked over and said at last, ti: s "What have you beeu preaching about n< e since you cauie here?" n< it "A great innny things." f "What are some of the things you m have preached about?" e "Well"?Philip clasped his hands w o over his knees? "1 have preached about d the right and wrong uses of property, w t the evil of the saloon, the Sunday as w a day of rest and worship, the necessif ty of moving our church building down e into this neighborhood, the need of t living on a simpler basis and, lastly, sfi it the true work of a church in these a days. er s "Has your church done what you , have wished?" .. ? "No," replied Philip, with a sigh. ^ e "Will it do what you preach ought h |. to be done?" "I do not know." v- "Why don't you resign?" CJ f The question came with perfect s!mo plicity, but it smote Philip almost like ^ e a blow. It was spoken with calmness s that hardly rose above a whisper, but i. it seemed to the listener almost like a ge . shout The thought of giving up his e work simply because his church had t not yet done what he wished or be. cause some of his people did not like 3 him was the last thing a man of his j. nature would do. He looked again at the man and said: ti "Would you resign if you were In my .. Place?" |J 0 "No." It was so quietly spoken that y Philip almost doubted If his visitor s had replied. Then he said, "What has a been done with the parsonage?" "It is empty. The church Is waiting ^ f to rent it to some one who expects to ^ s move to Milton soon." a "Are you sorry you came here?" g ."No. I am happy in my work." e "Do you have enough to eat and ^ i. wear?" b j. "Yes. indeed. The thousand dollars .. which the church refused to take off ^ u my salary goes to help where most .. needed. The rest is more than enough j for us." P "Does your wife think so?" The or |. question from any one else had been a impertinent. From this man It was so ?; r. "Lot us call her in and ask her," re- r* 0 plied Philip, with a smile. 0 "Sarah, the Brother Man wants to n 3 know if you have enough to live on." j Sarah came in and sat down. It was z, 1 dark. The year was turning into the J"1 Q softer months of spring, nnd all the ' I outdoor world had been a benediction that evening if the sorrow and poverty Q and sin of the tenement district so i:1 0 p' a near had not pervaded the very walls * g nnd atmosphere of the entire place. m e The minister's wife answered brave- ^ 3 ly: "Yes, we have food and clothing t and life's necessaries. But, oh, Philip, w |. this life is wearing you out! Yes, _y g Brother Man," she continued, while a tear rolled over her cheek, "the minis- Dj j ter is giving liis lifchlood for these j e people, and they do not care. It is a vain sacrilice." She hail spoken as .. frankly as if the old man had been j g her father. There was a something |(1 r in hint which called out such conti- jt deuce. ,i, 1 .... i Ij Mr. Strong sooiucu ms wm-, cia>inuy e her to liiiu tenderly. "There, Sarah, Q you are nervous anil tired. I am a lit- ^ tie discouraged, but strong and hearty Ju e for the work. Brother Man, you must ^ j not think we regret your advice. We t. have been blessed by following it." Y And then their remarkable guest ^ .. stretched out his arms through the g gathering gloom in the room and seem- ^ ed to bless them. Later in the evening he again called for a Bible and r offered a prayer of wondrous sweet- gt ' itcss. lie was shown to bis plainly furuisbed room. He looked around and smiled. ^ 0 "This is like my old home," he said; ^ t "a palace, where the poor die of huu...... 1 '* CI 1'bilip started at the odd remark, ^ e then recollected that the old man bad 0 once been wealthy, and sometimes in bis half dazed condition Philip thought ^ e probable he confounded the humblest m i. surroundings with his once luxurious oine. He lingered a moment, an le man said, as if speaking to kin: ilf, "If tkey do not renounce all the ave, tkey cannot be my disciples." "Good niglit, Brother Man," crie kilip as ke went out. "Good nigkt, Christ's man," replie is guest. And Philip went to his res lat nigkt, great questions tkrobbin i him and the demands of the Maste lore distinctly brought to his attentio lan ever. Again, as before when ke rose i ie morning, ke found that his visitc as gone. His eccentric movement ^counted for his sudden disappeai aces, but tkey were disappointed. The anted to see their guest again an uestion him about his history. The remised themselves he would do s ext time. The following Sunday Philip preact 1 one of those sermons which come t man once or twice in a whole minis y. It was the last Sunday of th ionth and not a special occasion. Bu lere had surged into his thought th leaning of the Christian life wit. lek uncontrollable power that his sei on reached hearts never before touct 1. He remained at the close of th ?rvice to talk with several young met ho seemed moved as never befon fter they had gone away he went int is own room back of the platform t it something he had left there and t is surprise found the church sextoi aeeling down by one of the chairs s the minister came in the man ros -J ^ A ,.,1 I,|m JU luriieu aiu uiuj. "Mr. Strong, I want to be a Chris an. I want to join the church am ad a different life." Philip clasped his hand, while tear tiled over the man's face. lie stall id talked with him and prayed wit] im, and when he finally went horn te minister was convinced it was a rong and true a conversion as he hai er seen. He at once related the stor; i his wife, who had gone on befor i get dinner. "Why, Philip," she exclaimed whei i said the sexton wanted to be bap zed and unite with the church at th ;xt communion, "Calvary church wli ?ver allow him to unite with us!" "Why not?" asked Philip in amaze ent. "Because he is a negro," replied hi ife. Philip stood a moment in silence ith his hat in his hand, looking at hi ife as she spoke. CHAPTER XV. "Well," said Philip slowly as hi emed to grasp tne meaning or m; ife's words, "to tell the truth, I nev thought of that!" He sat down am oked troubled. "Do you think, Sarah at because he is a negro the churci ill refuse to receive him to mem irship? It would not be Christian to fuse him." "There are other things that ar iristian which the church of Chris i earth does not do, Philip," replie< s wife almost bitterly. "But what er else Calvary church may do or no > I am very certain it will never con nt to admit to membership a blaci an." "But there are so few negroes li ilton that they have no church, nnot counsel him to unite with hi vn people. Calvary church must ad it him!" Philip spoke with the qule (termination which always marke< s convictions when they were set id. "But suppose the committee refusei report his name favorably to th< lurch, what then?" Mrs. Strong spoki ith a gleam of hope in her heart tha dllip would be roused to indignation at he would resign and leave Milton Philip did not reply at once. He wai iviug an inward struggle with hi; nsitiveness and his Interpretation o s Christ. At last he said: "I don't know, Sarah. I shall d< hat I think he would. What I shal > afterward will also depend on wha tirist would do. I cannot decide 1 ;t. I have great faith in the churci i earth." "And yet what has it done for yoi i far, Philip? The business men stil vn and rent tlie saloons and gam ing houses. The money spent by th< lurch is all out of proportion to It ealth. Here you give away hal >ur salary to build up the kingdom o od, and more than a dozen men h llv.-try who are worth fifty and i andred thousand dollars give les: ian a hundredth part of their Ineomi Christian work in connection witJ ie church. It makes my blood boll hilip. to see how you are throwini >ur life away in these miserable teue euts and wasting your appeals on i lurch that plainly does nut intend t< >, does not want to do, as Chris ould have it. And I don't believe i er will." "rin not so sure of that, Sarah," re led Philip cheerfully. "1 believe i all win them yet. The only thiuf at sometimes troubles me is, Am 1 ing just as Christ would do? An saying what he would say iu this of the world? There is one thiuj which 1 am certain?I am trying t< i just as 1 believe he would. Tin (stakes 1 make are those whicl ring from my failure to interpret his * i * t j???i .1 tiou rignt. -iUU JL'1 1 "u ioei "*-**-"1 mo that if he was pastor of this lurch today he would do most of th< lugs I have doue. He would preacl ost of the truths 1 have proclaimed ou't you think so, Sarah?" "I don't know, Philip. Yes, I thin! most things you have made au lion t attempt to interpret him." "And in the matter of the sexton irah, wouldn't Christ tell Calvurj lurch that it should admit liini to its embership? Would he make any dis action of persons? If the man is i iristian, thoroughly converted ant ants to be baptized and unite witl irist's body on earth, would Christ i pastor, refuse him admission?" "There Is a great ileal of race preju ce among tin* people. If you press e matter, Philip, I feel sure it wil eet with great opposition." "That Is not the ouestion with me il Would Clirlst tell Calvary church that li i. the man ought to be admitted? That is c y l J l I! C ^ ^ ^ J L- C"S r 0 "Brother Strong, I'm afraid the church t will object." * e the question. I believe he would," * 4 added Philip, with his sudden grasp of s e practical action. And Mrs. Strong 1 k knew that settled it with her husband. a It was the custom in Calvary church 11 l" for the church committee on new 8 e names for membership to meet at the ^ ' minister's house on the Monday even- c lug preceding the preparatory service. 0 At that service all names presented by 0 0 the committee were formally acted up- P 0 on by the church. The committee's ac- t a tiou was generally considered final, ' and the voting was in accordance with ^ e the committee's report. a So when the committee came in that * evening following the Sunday that had ^ witnessed the conversion of the sexton D Philip had ready a list of names, in- 8 ? nln^inn unfopnl vniinir inpn. It WilS a ^ HUUIU(, cw B very precious list to bim. It seemed f almost for the lirst time since be came P e to Milton as if tbe growing opposition h 8 to bim was about to be checked and 0 tinally submerged beneatb a power of ^ tbe Iloly Spirit, which it was Philip's o e daily prayer migbt come and do tbe * work which be alone could not do. Tbat h 0 was oue reason be bad borne tbe feel- tl ing against blmself so calmly. P ? Philip read tbe list over to tbe com- a mittee, saying something briefly about f nearly all tbe applicants for membership and expressing his joy that the c young men especially were coming in- P 8 to tbe church family. When be reach- tl ed tbe sexton's name, be related sim- ? !* ply tbe scene with bim after tbe morn8 ing service. ti There was an awkward pause then, c Tbe committee was plainly astonish- ti ed. Finally one said: "Brother Strong, ti " " * " ? 1 *-* ?' ? '? ?- 'H +A HA ll c I'm arraiu me cuurcu >vm uujcti iu ir ? 8 eeivlng the sexton. What Is his name?" t "Henry IJoland." o J "Why. he has been sexton of Calvary t '? church for ten years," said another, s a an older member of 'the committee, t " Deacon Stearns by name. "He has ti 0 been an honest, capable man. I never u heard any complaint of him. He has e always minded his own business. How- d t ever, I don't know how the church a * will take It to consider him as an ap- t plicaut for membership." v t "Why, brethren, how can it take It o * In any except the Christian way?" said a * Philip eagerly. "Here is a man who d gives evidence of being born again, ti 3 He cannot be present tonight when the e 1 other applicants come in later owing u 8 to work he must do, but I can say for a * him that he gave all evidence of a p * most sincere and thorough conversion, a 3 He wishes to be baptized. He wanta a to unite with the church. He is of a more than average intelligence. He la n s not a person to thrust himself into o 5 places where people do not wish him? V e a temperate, industrious, modest, quiet c t workman, a Christian believer asking n ., us to receive him at the communion ta- p l ble of our Lord. There is no church b s for Ids own people here. On what pos- ^ 3 sible pretext can the church refuse to ft f admit him?" "You do not know some of the mem3 bers of Calvary church, Mr. Strong, if 1 you ask such a question. There Is a t very strong prejudice against the ne- T * ! ?1?..? Tl.io ni-nfuHiro I J^ru in lining luiiiiiivo. aiiio v.j uu?v\< i is especially strong just at this time owing to several acts of depredation a J committed l>.v the negroes living down 6t 1 near the railroad tracks. I don't be- m - lieve it would be wise to present this s name just now." Deacon Stearns ap- G 3 pe.ared to speak for the committee, all el f of whom murmured assent in one form pi f or auother. d: i "And yet." said Philip, roused to a i sudden heat of indignation, "and yet al s what is Calvary church doing to help tl s to make those men down by the rail- w j road tracks any better? Are we coni coined about them at all except when tt g our coal or wood or clothing is stolen et - or some one is held up down there? y, i And when one of them knocks at the fC ) door of the church can we calmly and t coldly shut it in his face simply be- D( t cause God undo it a different color tr from ours?" Philip stopped and then ei - finished by saying very quietly, m L "Brethren, do you think Christ would ai I receive this man into the church?" rc [ There was no reply for a moment, q, i Then Deacon Stearns answered: Sl 3 "Brother Strong, we have to deal with ST j humanity as it is. You cannot make ) people all over. This prejudice exists, tjj j and sometimes we may have to respect |n j it in order to avoid greater trouble. 1 fa 3 know families in the church who will p( ) certainly withdraw if the sexton is 3 voted in as a member. And still," said fe ? the old deacon, with a sigh, "I believe l Christ would receive him into his |,j . church." d( Before much more could be said the g( : different applicants came, and as the b - custom was. after a brief talk with fa them about their purpose iu uniting jr , with the church and their discipleship, a> 7 they withdrew, and the committee g? 3 formally acted on the names for pres- u entation to the church. The name of th i Ilenry Roland, the sexton, was final- st 1 !y reported unfavorably, three of the a i committee voting against It, Deacon th . Stearns at last voting with the minister to present the sexton's name with 6t . the others. tr 3 "Now, brethren." said Philip, with a y< j sad smile, as they rose to go, "you know I have alvyays been very frank in f all our relations together, a,nd I am go-, gs ng to present the sexton's name to the Lurch Thursday night and let the hurch vote on it in spite of the action lere tonight. You know we have only ecommending power. The church is he linal authority, aud it may accept r reject any names we present. I caulot rest satisfied until we know the erdict of the church in the matter." "Brother Strong," said one of the ommittee who had been opposed to he sexton, "you are right as to the exent of our authority, but there is no iuestlon in my mind as to the outcome f the matter. It is a question of exlediency. I do not have any feeling gainst the sexton, but I think it would >e very unwise to receive him into membership. and I do not believe the hurch will receive him. If you preent the name, you do so on your own esponsibility." "With mine," said Deacon Stearns, le was the last to shake hands with he minister, and his warm, strong rasp gave Philip a sense of fellowship hat thrilled him with a sense of courige and companionship very much leeded. lie at once went up to his tudy after the committee was gone. Irs. Strong, coming up to see him latr, found him, as she often did now, on is knees in prayer. Ah, thou follower f Jesus in this century, what but thy irayers shall strengthen thy soul in he strange days to come? Thursday evening was stormy. A eavy rain had set in before dark, and high wind blew great sheets of water hrough the streets and rattled loose oards and shingles about the tenements. Philip would not let his wife o out. It was too stormy. So he rent his way alone, somewhat sorrowul at heart as he contemplated the rospect of a small attendance on what e had planned should be an important ccasion. However, some of the best members f the church were out. The very ones hat were in sympathy with Philip and is methods were in the majority of hnso nrospnt nnd that led to an unex ected result when the names of the pplicants for membership came beore the church for action. Philip read the list approved by the ommittee and then very simply, but oworfully. told the sexton's story and lie refusal of the committee to recomiend him for membership. "Now. I do not see how we can shut his disciple of Jesus out of his hurch." concluded Philip. "And I wish o present him to this church for itsacion. lie is a Christian; he needs our elp and our fellowship, and as Chrisinn believers, as disciples of the Man f all the race, as those who believe hat there is to be uo distinction of ouis hereafter that shall separate hem by prejudice. I hope you will vote o receive this brother in Christ to our leinhership." The voting on new members was one by ballot. When the ballots were 11 in and counted, it was announced hat all whose names were presented rere unanimously elected except that f the sexton. There were 12 votes gainst him. but 20 for him, and Philip eclared that according to the constlution of the church he was duly electTim mnof (nnr tVinn rront nn fhfl U. 1UC UJCCliUfj kUV^Ll II V.U k VU ?M VMV sual manner characteristic of prepartory service. The sexton had been resent in the back part of the room, nd at the close of the meeting, after 11 the rest had gone, he and Philip had long talk together. When Philip eached home, he and Sarah had anther long talk on the same subject. lrbat that was we cannot tell until we ome to record the events of the comlunion Sunday, a day that stood out i Philip's memory like one of the leeding palms of his Master, pierced rith sorrow, but eloquent with sacrlce. TO BE CONTINUED. KILLED BY A BKAK BLOW. lie Loon Ih a UanKeroaa Bird With Which to Battle. The loon, or great northern diver, is powerful bird. The following inance of one of them conquering a an happened a few years ago: A young Micmac Indian, living at rand Lake. N. S., wanted to get the cin of one of these beautiful birds to resent to his mistress on her birtliiy. One day the youth, who was an adept t iiwv tlio MormUnr cnhhlnfr prv of ic loou. succeeded in calling a bird itliin shooting distance. His shot, jwever, failed to kill outright, and le bird, although so severely wound1 that it could neither swim nor dive, ;t retained sufficient life and strength i remain upright in the water. The boy, thinking that his game did )t need another shot, swam out to reieve it, but when be approached near lough to seize the bird it suddenly ado a dash at him. sending its head id neck out with a spring like an ariw from a bow. It was only by a lick duck of his head that the Indian lcceeded in evading the blow. He vam'about the loou several times, atmpting to dash in and seize him by ie neck, but the wary bird succeeded foiling each effort by continually cing him and lunging out with his iwerful neck. The Indian then swam up to within a w feet of the bird and, diving under m with considerable skill, caught in by the legs. He carried him un?r. and, although the bird struggled jrceiy, managed 10 return ins uuiu. ut when they hotli rose to the surice again a battle royal began, the idian seeking to carry his prize >hore and the bird attempting to retin his freedom. The bird, however, as too much for his foe and before le Indian had covered a yard on his lore bound course disabled him with vicious blow from his beak full ou le naked chest. The effect of the blow was almost inantaneously fatal, for the beak peneated close to the Indian's heart? outh's Companion. pfif An express engine consumes 10 lUons of water per mile. $U$tcUattmts ^calling. KRUUEK'S WEST POINTER. Dare-Devil Career of J. Y. F. Blake, Who Ik Fighting In the Boer Army. Grand Itaplds, Mich. Dispatch. John Y. Fillmore Blake, who has recently won fame by successfully leading Oom Paul's Irish Brigade aguiust their hereditary foes, has had a romantic career, not the least eveDtful period of which was that in this city. Born of an old Missouri family fortysix years ago, he was headed for West Point at an early age. En route for the military academy he was nearly killed by escaping gas. His friends always insisted he "blew out the gas," and be let it go at that, uever explaining nor indeed seeming to care very much bow the thing happened. This gives the key to his character ; careless, reckless and fearless, his daredevil escapades nearly caused bis exptilsiou more than once at West Point. Among other things it is said that he was the ringleader of the sensational hazing which ended in the clipping of the colored cadet Whittaker's ears. This, like many other things suspected, could never be definitely laid to his door, and funloving, "Give a-dum" Blake, was successfully graduated in the class of '80. A magnificent speci nen of physical manhood, six feet high, without an ounce of surplus flesh, be proved himself a marvelous horseman, and for this reason was ussigned to the cavalry branch of the service, and went with his regiment to see hard fighting against the hostile redskins in Arizona. In ibis service be kept the camp happy with his merriment and good natured pranks, and his reckless bravery in feats of horsemanship confirmed his class-mate's sobriquet of "Give-a Damn," Blake, the best horseman that ever sat iu a government saddle. It is said that the cow-boys of that country still swear by his horsemanship and still envy bis expertness in profanitv. In October, 1897, he was promoted to the rank of first lieutenant for brave and meritorious service. Some years previous to this he bad met one of the wealthiest and handsomest young women of Grand Rapids, then on a visit to frieuds at Fort Leavenworth, Kan. The brave, gallant, polished gentleman soon wou the heart of the Grand Rapids girl, and on October 14, 1885, they were married in this city. It was a grand wedding, Rt. Rev. George D. Gillespie, bishop of western Michigan, officiating. Soon afterward Lieutenant Blake resigned his commission and went into business here with money furnished by his bride. Two sons were born to them, and for a time all went well. But the attempt to make a soldier over into a shopkeeper failed in this as in mauy other notable instances. The soldier was as reckless with money as with other things, and bis business went to the dogs. Dissension crept into the family, and " 1QO/4 Pluto lofh fnr ftnnth 1U X O *71 VUIUUtl JL/Iwnv ?v?v .v. Africa, it being understood that he would never return. After a proper time, his wife, who still lives here with her children, secured a divorce on the ground of desertion. Brave and polished, yet a man popular socially with all classes, aud able to give and take and laugh at a joke on himself as well as another, Blake is an ideal leader for a regiment of Irish. Hi9 friends in this city heard from him frequently up to the time of the outbreak of the Trausvaal war; but since then no letter or news has been received from him, except as he has been mentioned in the dispatches. British Armies Led By Irish Generals.?A correspondent of a Connecticut paper thinks that the | Boers are really lighting Ireland, instead of England ; judging from the nativity of the British army and navy officials: "Lord Charles Beresford, head of the British navy, boru in Waterford ; Lord YVolseley, head of the British army, born in Dublin ; Lord Kitchener, born in Kerry ; Lord Roberts, born in Waterford; Lord Lansdowiie, minister of war ; General Metbuen and Mr. Windham, under se* ?n tvolan/i cretary, uuiu iu ~? While, boru iu Autrim ; General G'lery, horn in Cork ; General French, born in Roscommon ; General Butler, who was superseded by General Buller for telling the truth about the Boers' strength, was also boru iu Irelaud; General Kelly-Kenny, now with Lord Roberts, and who has command of the Sixth division, was born iu Kilrush, near the mouth of the Shanuon. A number of other South African colouial officials who were born iu Ireland could be meutioned. There are 11 Irish regiments either in South Africa or ou their way there, besides many Irishmeu iu the Scotch aud English regiments." Thk Father of the Idea??We have been surprised aud somewhat anuoyed that iu all the favorable comments 011 the wide-tire bill, and they have been many, that no mention has been made of the real author of the bill and pioueer of the movement for good roads iu South Carolina. We refer to the Hon. J. M. Gaines, who, while state senator from Edgefield, introduced the ideutical bill, with minor alterations, which is now a law. We do not wish to uccuse Senator Maul tliii of ao injustice ; but it seems lamentably lacking iu the daily papers to eulirely iguore the work of Senator Gaines. He introduced the bill; but s>?. had to see it defeated. Senator Mauldin wrote him for his bill on January, 18, 1899, made a few changes, moved up the dates, aud bad it passed. For this he deserves great credit; but not so much but that Senator Gaines' arduous first efforts should be overlooked.?Greenwood Index.