The true northerner., 1899-11-22


had been attended as never before in
the history of the First church.
Henry Maxwell came at once to the
point. He spoke of Gray's work and of
his request.
81 feel as if were called to go down
there tonight, and will leave it with
you to say whether you will go on with
the meeting here. think perhaps the
best plan would be for few volunteers
to go down to the Rectangle with me.
prepared to help in the after meeting,
and the rest remain here and pray that
the Spirits power may go with u.s.
So half dozen of the men went with
Henry Maxwell, and the rest of the au-
dience staid in the lecture room. Max
well could not escape the thought as he
left the room that probably in his entire
church membership there might not be
found score of disciples who were
capable of doing work that would sue
cessfully lead needy, sinful men into
the knowledge of Christ. The thought
did not linger in his mind to vex him
as he went on his way, but it was sim
ply part of his whole new conception
of the meaning of Christian disciple
ship
When he and his little company of
volunteers reached the Rectangle, the
tent was already crowded. They had
difficulty in getting to the little plat
form. Rachel was there, with Virginia
and Jasper Chase, who had come in
stead of the doctor tonight.
When the meeting began with a song
in which Rachel sang the solo and the
people were asked to join in the chorus,
not foot of standing room was left in
the tent. The night was mild and the
sides of the tent were up, and great
border of faces stretched around, look
ing in and forming part of the audience.
After the singing and prayer by
one of the city pastors who were present
Gray stated the reasons for his inability
to speak and in his simple manner
turned the service over to Brother
Maxwell of the First church. "
who's de bloke?" asked hoarse
voice near the outside of the tent.
'De Fust church parson. We've got
de whole high tone swell outfit to-
night -
Ibid you say Fust church? l know
him. Ny landlord has got a front pew
up there, " said another voice, and there
was laugh for the speaker was a sa-
loon keeper.
"T'row out de life line cross de dark
waver' began drunken man near by,
singing in such an unconscious imita
tion of a local travelling singers nasal
tone that roars of laughter and jeers of
approval rose around him. The people
in the tent turned in the direction Of
the disturbance There were shouts Of
"Put him out !" "Give the Fust church
a chancel" "Song, song Give us an-
other song
Henry Maxwell stood up and a great
wave of actual terror went over him.
This was lot like preaching TO the well
dressed, respectable good hammered
people on the boulevard He began TO
speak, but the confusion increased.
Gray went down into the crowd but
did not seem able TO quiet il. Henry
Maxwell raised his arm and his voice.
The crowd IL the tent began to pay
some attention, but the noise on the
outside increased In a few minutes the
audience was beyond Maxwell control.
He turned to Rachel with sad smile
"Sing something, Miss Winslow.
They will listen to you, he said and
then sat down and put his face in his
hands.
1t was Rachel's opportunity, and she
was fully equal to it. Virginia was at
the organ, and Rachel asked her to play
few notes of the hymn:
Saviour, follow on,
Guided 10y thee,
Seeing not yet the hand
That leadeth me-
flushed be my heart and still;
Fear further i'll;
Only TO meet thy will
My will shall be.
Rachel had not sung the first line be-
fore the people in the tent were all
! turned toward her, hushed and rever
! ent. Before she had finished the verse
/ the Rectangle was subdued and tanned.
/ 1t lay like some wild beast at her feet,
and she sang it into harmlessness. Ali
/ What were the flippant, perfumed,
/ critical audiences in concert halls COM
pared with this dirty, drunken, impure,
degraded, besotted humanity that trem-
bled and wept and grew strangely, sad
! ly thoughtful under the touch of the
divine ministry of this beautiful young
woman? Henry Maxwell as he raised
his head and saw the transformed mob
had glimpse of something that Jesus
would probably do with a voice like
Rachel Winslow's Jasper Chase sat
with his eyes on the singer, and his
greatest longing as an ambitious author
was swallowed up in the thought of
what Rachel Winslow's love might
some time mean to him. And over in
the shadow outside stood the last person
any one might have expected to see at
a gospel tent service, Rollin Page, who,
jostled on every side by rough men and
women, who stared at the swell in the
fine clothes, seemed careless Of his sur
roundings and at the same time evil
IDENTIFY swayed by the power that Rachel
possessed. He had just come over from
the club. Neither Rachel nor Virginia
~ n