PART 10 of 24 Parts
The service was over, the congregation had gone, and Maxwell again faced the company gathered in the lecture room as on the two previous Sundays. He had asked all to remain who had made the pledge of discipleship, and any others who wished to be included. As he went in and faced the people there, his heart trembled. There were at least one hundred present. He missed Jasper Chase. But all the others were present. He asked Milton Wright to pray. The very air was charged with divine possibilities. Who could resist such a baptism of power? How had they lived all these years without it?
They counseled together, and there were many prayers. Henry Maxwell dated from that meeting some of the major events that afterward became a part of the history of the First Church and of Raymond. When finally they went home, all of them were filled with the Spirit’s power.
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 today made it clear to me what 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, tending 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 anything 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 average 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 liquor 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 people. ‘What would Jesus do?’ I have even tried to avoid an honest answer. I can no longer do so."
The tall, scholarly gentleman paused as they crossed a street. Then he continued: "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 and political trickery as it exists in Raymond today. I would sooner walk up to the mouth of a cannon anytime than do this. I would give almost anything 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. I would so much prefer to remain quietly in my scholastic life with the 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.’ 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 the duty of citizenship except in a sermon? 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? Like you, I am now at a point where I am driven to answer the question one way. My duty is plain. All my parish work, all my little trials or self-sacrifices as a pastor are as nothing compared with the breaking out of my scholarly, intellectual, self-contained habits into this open, coarse, public fight for a clean city life.
"I could go and live at the Rectangle for 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 liquor-ridden city. It would cost me less. But like you, I have been unable to shake off my responsibility. 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."
The two men walked on in silence for a while. Finally President Marsh 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 the strength of numbers. Let us organize the forces of good in Raymond for a battle against this corruption. We certainly ought to enter the primaries with a force that will be able to do more than voice a protest. Let us plan a campaign of organized righteousness. Jesus would use great wisdom in this matter. He would employ means. He would make large plans. Let us do likewise.
They continued talking a long time, and met again the next day in Maxwell’s study to develop plans. The city primaries were set for that Friday. The primary called for a public meeting at the courthouse. Special officers to be nominated were mayor, city council, chief of police, city clerk, and city treasurer.
The Saturday edition of the Evening News gave a full account of the primaries, and in the editorial columns Edward Norman spoke with a directness and conviction that the many people in Raymond were learning to respect deeply, because it was so obviously sincere and unselfish. He said in part:
It is safe to say that never before in the history of Raymond was there a primary like the one in the courthouse 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 it, with everyone else simply a tool or a cipher. To the amazement of the wire-pullers last night, 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 men for all the offices to be filled at the coming election.
It was a significant lesson in good citizenship. President Marsh of Lincoln College, who had never before entered a city primary and whose face was not even known to the ward politicians, made one of the best speeches ever heard in Raymond. When President Marsh rose to speak, many of these politicians asked, "Who is he?" Their 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 Maine of the Pilgrim Church, Dean Ward of the Holy Trinity, and scores of well-known business and professional men were present. They had all come with the specific purpose of nominating the best men possible. Most of these men had never before participated in a primary. They were complete strangers to the politicians. But they had evidently profited by the politicians’ methods and were able by organized and united effort to nominate their entire ticket.
As soon as it became plain that the primary was out of their control, the regular ring nominated another ticket. The News simply calls the attention of all decent citizens to the fact that this last ticket contains the names of men long controlled by the liquor interests of our town. The line is sharply and distinctly drawn between corrupt management, such as we have known for years, and the possibility of 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 shameless incompetency, or shall we, as President Marsh said in his moving speech, rise as good citizens and begin a new order of things by the power of our ballot?
The News is positively and without reservation on the side of the new movement. We shall advocate the election of the men nominated by the majority of citizens who met in the first primary, and we call upon all lovers of decency, honesty, 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 that 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 publish 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 had asked when he wrote the Saturday editorial. He knew well enough that his action expressed in that editorial would cost him heavily from the hands of many businessmen of Raymond. And still as he drove his pen over the paper he asked another question: "What would Jesus do?" That question had become the force of his whole life now. It was greater than any other.
So for the first time in its history Raymond had seen its professional men, teachers, college professors, doctors and ministers take political action and put themselves definitely and sharply in public antagonism to the forces that had long controlled the municipal government. This fact itself was astonishing. 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 of politics. Education for him and those who were under his influence ever after meant the element of personal sacrifice.
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.
But meanwhile the glory of the Spirit’s power possessed all their best thought. Night after night that week they 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 human being? The transformation of these coarse, brutal lives into lovers of Jesus struck Rachel and Virginia with feelings no doubt similar to those who witnessed Lazarus walk out of the tomb.
Rollin Page came to all the meetings. There was no doubt of the change that had come over him. He was unusually quiet. He talked more with Mr. Gray than with anyone else. He did not avoid Rachel, but he seemed reluctant to renew his relationship with her. Rachel found it even difficult to express to him her pleasure at the new life he had commenced. Rollin seemed to have withdrawn until he could adjust to his new life.
The end of the week found the Rectangle struggling hard between two mighty opposing forces. The Holy Spirit was battling against the raw evil that so long had held a jealous grasp on its slaves. If the Christian people of Raymond could have realized what the contest meant to the souls newly awakened to a purer life, it would not seem possible that the election could result in the old system of license. But the issue was in doubt. Meanwhile, 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 fine homes, they carried heavy hearts.
"A good many of those poor creatures will slip back again," the evangelist would say with a sadness too deep for tears. "The environment is too great an obstacle. O Lord! How long shall Christian people continue to support by their silence and their ballots the greatest form of slavery now known in America?"
