grown in a
certain quality of persuasiveness that had all the essentials of
true eloquence. This morning the people felt the complete sincerity
and humility of a man who had gone deep into the heart of a great
truth.

After telling briefly of some results in his own church in Raymond
since the pledge was taken, he went on to ask the question he had
been asking since the Settlement meeting. He had taken for his theme
the story of the young man who came to Jesus asking what he must do
to obtain eternal life. Jesus had tested him. "Sell all that thou
hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven;
and come follow me." But the young man was not willing to suffer to
that extent. If following Jesus meant suffering in that way, he was
not willing. He would like to follow Jesus, but not if he had to
give so much.

"Is it true," continued Henry Maxwell, and his fine, thoughtful face
glowed with a passion of appeal that stirred the people as they had
seldom been stirred, "is it true that the church of today, the
church that is called after Christ's own name, would refuse to
follow Him at the expense of suffering, of physical loss, of
temporary gain? The statement was made at a large gathering in the
Settlement last week by a leader of workingmen that it was hopeless
to look to the church for any reform or redemption of society. On
what was that statement based? Plainly on the assumption that the
church contains for the most part men and women who think more 'of
their own ease and luxury' than of the sufferings and needs and sins
of humanity. How far is that true? Are the Christians of America
ready to have their discipleship tested? How about the men who
possess large wealth? Are they ready to take that wealth and use it
as Jesus would? How about the men and women of great talent? Are
they ready to consecrate that talent to humanity as Jesus
undoubtedly would do?

"Is it not true that the call has come in this age for a new
exhibition of Christian discipleship? You who live in this great
sinful city must know that better than I do. Is it possible you can
go your ways careless or thoughtless of the awful condition of men
and women and children who are dying, body and soul, for need of
Christian help? Is it not a matter of concern to you personally that
the saloon kills its thousands more surely than war? Is it not a
matter of personal suffering in some form for you that thousands of
able-bodied, willing me