Part 18 (1/2)

”Philip, it seems to me like the leading of his hand. Surely you have shown your willingness and your courage and your sacrifice by your work here. But your methods are distasteful, and your preaching has so far roused only antagonism. Oh, I dread the thought of this life for you another day. It looks to me like a suicidal policy, with nothing to show for it when you have gone through with it.”

Philip spread the letter out on the couch and his face grew more and more thoughtful as he gazed into the face of his wife, and his mind went over the ground of his church experience. If, only, he was, perhaps, thinking, if only the good G.o.d had not given him so sensitive and fine-tempered a spirit of conscientiousness. He almost envied men of coa.r.s.e, blunt feelings, of common ideals of duty and service.

His wife watched him anxiously. She knew it was a crisis with him. At last he said:--

”Well, Sarah, I don't know but you're right. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. The professors.h.i.+p would be free from the incessant worry and anxiety of a parish, and then I might be just as useful in the Seminary as I am here--who knows?”

”Who knows, indeed!” exclaimed Sarah, joyfully; at the same time she was almost crying. She picked up the letter and called Philip's attention to the clause which granted him a year abroad in case he accepted. ”Think of that, Philip! Your dream of foreign travel can come true now.”

”That is,” Philip looked out of the window over the dingy roof of a shed near by to the gloomy tenements, ”that is, supposing I decide to accept.”

”Supposing! But you almost same as said----Oh, Philip, say you will! Be reasonable! This is the opportunity of a lifetime!”

”That's true,” replied Philip.

”You may not have another such chance as this as long as you live. You are young now and with every prospect of success in work of this kind.

It is new work, of the kind you like. You will have leisure and means to carry on important experiments, and influence for life young men entering the ministry. Surely, Philip, there is as great opportunity for usefulness and sacrifice there as anywhere. It must be that the will of G.o.d is in this. It comes without any seeking on your part.”

”Yes, indeed!” Philip spoke with the only touch of pride he ever exhibited. It was pride in the knowledge that he was absolutely free from self-glory or self-seeking.

”Then say you will accept. Say you will, Philip!”

The appeal, coming from the person dearest to him in all the world, moved Philip profoundly. He took the letter from her hand, read it over carefully, and again laid it down on the couch. Then he said:--

”Sarah, I must pray over it. I need a little time. You will have reason----” Philip paused, as his habit sometimes was, and at that moment the bell rang and Mrs. Strong went downstairs. As she went along she felt almost persuaded that Philip would yield. Something of his tone seemed to imply that the struggle in his mind was nearly ended.

The callers at the door were three men who had been to see Philip several times to talk with him about the mill troubles and the labor conflict in general. They wanted to see Philip. Mrs. Strong was anxious about the condition of Philip's health. She asked the men to come in, and went upstairs again.

”Can you see them? Are you strong enough?” she asked.

”Yes, tell them to come up. I am comfortable now.”

Philip was resting easily, and after a careful look at him, Mrs. Strong went downstairs.

To her surprise, two of the men had gone. The one who remained explained that he thought three persons would excite or tire the minister more than one; he had stayed and would not trouble Philip very long. But the business on which he came was of such an important nature that he felt obliged to see the minister if he could do so without danger to him.

So the man went up and Philip greeted him with his usual heartiness, excusing himself for not rising. The man took a chair, moved up near the couch, and sat down. He seemed a good deal excited, but in a suppressed and cautious way.

”I came to see you, Mr. Strong, to tell you about a thing you ought to know. There is danger of your life here.”

”Where?” asked Philip, calmly.

”Here, in this neighborhood.”

”Well?” Philip waited for more explanation.

”I didn't want to tell your wife, for fear of scaring her, but I thought you ought to know, Mr. Strong, and then you could take steps to protect yourself or get away.”

”Go on; tell me the worst,” said Philip, quietly, as the man paused.