In His Steps

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Chapter 9

 

Henry Maxwell finished reading and dropped the paper.

“I must go and see Powers. This is the result of his promise.”

He rose, and as he was going out, his wife said: “Do you think, Henry, that Jesus would have done that?”

Maxwell paused a moment. Then he answered slowly, “Yes, I think He would. At any rate, Powers has decided so and each one of us who made the promise understands that he is not deciding Jesus’ conduct for any one else, only for himself.”

“How about his family? How will Mrs. Powers and Celia be likely to take it?”

“Very hard, I’ve no doubt. That will be Powers’ cross in this matter. They will not understand his motive.”

Maxwell went out and walked over to the next block where Superintendent Powers lived. To his relief, Powers himself came to the door.

The two men shook hands silently. They instantly understood each other without words. There had never before been such a bond of union between the minister and his parishioner.

“What are you going to do?” Henry Maxwell asked after they had talked over the facts in the case.

“You mean another position? I have no plans yet. I can go back to my old work as a telegraph operator. My family will not suffer, except in a social way.”

Powers spoke calmly and sadly. Henry Maxwell did not need to ask him how the wife and daughter felt. He knew well enough that the superintendent had suffered deepest at that point.

“There is one matter I wish you would see to,” said Powers after awhile, “and that is, the work begun at the shops. So far as I know, the company will not object to that going on. It is one of the contradictions of the railroad world that Y. M. C. A.’s and other Christian influences are encouraged by the roads, while all the time the most un-Christian and lawless acts may be committed in the official management of the roads themselves. Of course it is well understood that it pays a railroad to have in its employ men who are temperate, honest and Christian. So I have no doubt the master mechanic will have the same courtesy shown him in the use of the room. But what I want you to do, Mr. Maxwell, is to see that my plan is carried out. Will you? You understand what it was in general. You made a very favorable impression on the men. Go down there as often as you can. Get Milton Wright interested to provide something for the furnishing and expense of the coffee plant and reading tables. Will you do it?”

“Yes,” replied Henry Maxwell. He stayed a little longer. Before he went away, he and the superintendent had a prayer together, and they parted with that silent hand grasp that seemed to them like a new token of their Christian discipleship and fellowship.

The pastor of the First Church went home stirred deeply by the events of the week. Gradually the truth was growing upon him that the pledge to do as Jesus would was working out a revolution in his parish and throughout the city. Every day added to the serious results of obedience to that pledge. Maxwell did not pretend to see the end. He was, in fact, only now at the very beginning of events that were destined to change the history of hundreds of families not only in Raymond but throughout the entire country. As he thought of Edward Norman and Rachel and Mr. Powers, and of the results that had already come from their actions, he could not help a feeling of intense interest in the probable effect if all the persons in the First Church who had made the pledge, faithfully kept it. Would they all keep it, or would some of them turn back when the cross became too heavy?

He was asking this question the next morning as he sat in his study when the President of the Endeavor Society of his church called to see him.

“I suppose I ought not to trouble you with my case,” said young Morris coming at once to his errand, “but I thought, Mr. Maxwell, that you might advise me a little.”

“I’m glad you came. Go on, Fred.” He had known the young man ever since his first year in the pastorate, and loved and honored him for his consistent, faithful service in the church.

“Well, the fact is, I am out of a job. You know I’ve been doing reporter work on the morning SENTINEL since I graduated last year. Well, last Saturday Mr. Burr asked me to go down the road Sunday morning and get the details of that train robbery at the Junction, and write the thing up for the extra edition that came out Monday morning, just to get the start of the NEWS. I refused to go, and Burr gave me my dismissal. He was in a bad temper, or I think perhaps he would not have done it. He has always treated me well before. Now, do you think Jesus would have done as I did? I ask because the other fellows say I was a fool not to do the work. I want to feel that a Christian acts from motives that may seem strange to others sometimes, but not foolish. What do you think?”

“I think you kept your promise, Fred. I cannot believe Jesus would do newspaper reporting on Sunday as you were asked to do it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Maxwell. I felt a little troubled over it, but the longer I think it over the better I feel.”

Morris rose to go, and his pastor rose and laid a loving hand on the young man’s shoulder. “What are you going to do, Fred?”

“I don’t know yet. I have thought some of going to Chicago or some large city .“

“Why don’t you try the NEWS?”

“They are all supplied. I have not thought of applying there.”

Maxwell thought a moment. “Come down to the NEWS office with me, and let us see Norman about it.”

So a few minutes later Edward Norman received into his room the minister and young Morris, and Maxwell briefly told the cause of the errand.

“I can give you a place on the NEWS,” said Norman with his keen look softened by a smile that made it winsome. “I want reporters who won’t work Sundays. And what is more, I am making plans for a special kind of reporting which I believe you can develop because you are in sympathy with what Jesus would do.”

He assigned Morris a definite task, and Maxwell started back to his study, feeling that kind of satisfaction (and it is a very deep kind) which a man feels when he has been even partly instrumental in finding an unemployed person a remunerative position.

He had intended to go right to his study, but on his way home he passed by one of Milton Wright’s stores. He thought he would simply step in and shake hands with his parishioner and bid him God-speed in what he had heard he was doing to put Christ into his business. But when he went into the office, Wright insisted on detaining him to talk over some of his new plans. Maxwell asked himself if this was the Milton Wright he used to know, eminently practical, business-like, according to the regular code of the business world, and viewing every thing first and foremost from the standpoint of, “Will it pay?”

“There is no use to disguise the fact, Mr. Maxwell, that I have been compelled to revolutionize the entire method of my business since I made that promise. I have been doing a great many things during the last twenty years in this store that I know Jesus would not do. But that is a small item compared with the number of things I begin to believe Jesus would do. My sins of commission have not been as many as those of omission in business relations.”

“What was the first change you made?” He felt as if his sermon could wait for him in his study. As the interview with Milton Wright continued, he was not so sure but that he had found material for a sermon without going back to his study.

“I think the first change I had to make was in my thought of my employees. I came down here Monday morning after that Sunday and asked myself, What would Jesus do in His relation to these clerks, bookkeepers, office-boys, draymen, salesmen? Would He try to establish some sort of personal relation to them different from that which I have sustained all these years?’ I soon answered this by saying, Yes.’ Then came the question of what that relation would be and what it would lead me to do. I did not see how I could answer it to my satisfaction without getting all my employees together and having a talk with them. So I sent invitations to all of them, and we had a meeting out there in the warehouse Tuesday night.

A good many things came out of that meeting. I can’t tell you all. I tried to talk with the men as I imagined Jesus might. It was hard work, for I have not been in the habit of it, and must have made some mistakes. But I can hardly make you believe, Mr. Maxwell, the effect of that meeting on some of the men. Before it closed I saw more than a dozen of them with tears on their faces. I kept asking, What would Jesus do?’ and the more I asked it the farther along it pushed me into the most intimate and loving relations with the men who have worked for me all these years. Every day something new is coming up and I am right now in the midst of a reconstruction of the entire business so far as its motive for being conducted is concerned.

I am so practically ignorant of all plans for co-operation and its application to business that I am trying to get information from every possible source. I have lately made a special study of the life of Titus Salt, the great mill-owner of Bradford, England, who afterward built that model town on the banks of the Aire. There is a good deal in his plans that will help me. But I have not yet reached definite conclusions in regard to all the details. I am not enough used to Jesus’ methods. But see here.”

Wright eagerly reached up into one of the pigeon holes of his desk and took out a paper.

“I have sketched out what seems to me like a program such as Jesus might go by in a business like mine. I want you to tell me what you think of it: