The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1903-08-15
NEW BOOKS.
The Rev. MIR. Dlxon's Latest.

OF the Rev. Thomas Dixon, Jr.'s story, The
One Woman" Doubleday, Page d Coz. We
find here a rather striking example OF repair
tee. The young pastor Of the Pilgrim Con-
gregational Church in Fourth avenue Ia
having a heart-to-heart talk with his head
deacon in the latters office in Wall Street.
The deacon is the president Of the Stock
Exchange. He ia a born New Yorker,
little man with shining shoe-button eyes
and an important manner. He has been in
vited 10 express n frank opinion OF In"
pastor and is doing il, We have to quote
from this particular interview only two OF
his considerable number of remarks and his
young pastors replies to the same. HIS
young pastor is giant from Indiana with
large and hairy and blue-veincd hands,
Says the deacon, where We have made
marks at page AZ; "You lack dignity out of
the pulpit" Says the young pastor: The
most dignified man ever saw was a dead
mana dead New Yorker" Says the dea-
con: "You have departed from III faith Of
our fathers" Says the young pastor: Per
hapsif you mean our famous fathers who
landed first on their knees and then on the
aborignees"
We knew at page A that we were i'll for
a strong intellectual treat Al page 10
we find the deacon and his young pastor
again in combat 1t is a Joy to have tickets
of admission. 1t is at a meeting OF the
board of trustees. The young pastor
wants a new church, a temple of vast
proportions, to shine with the glory OF the
morning and pierce with unexampled dar-
ing the unknown recesses of the remoter
skies, Strangely, the deacon gets angry
at this splendid and reasonable proposition.
Says he; You can pray till your blue in
the face and you will never get money
enough to buy n lot on Fifth avenue big
enough to bury yourself, to say nothing
of rearing Solomon's Temple on it. This
board is tired of the circus business. You
have transformed the church already into
a menagerie. We don't want any more
Of your Soup House Sarahs. Hallelujah
Johns nor decorative buns testifying here
to the power Of miracles. while we wonder
whether our overcoats will DO on the rack
when we recover from the spell of their
eloquence. It's big world, there's room
for us all, but there's not room for any
more new wrinkles in this church"
was severe, but the young pastor was ready
for him. YES" said he, lit is big world.
Deacon, but there are some small potatoes
In it. There's hope for fool, he may be
turned from his folly, but God Almighty
cant put gallon into pint cup"
The deacon must have been quite upset
The story says that he snorted. He man
aged to say: We'll see who the small po-
tato Is before the day is done The young
pastor shook carelessly his fair and copious
locks and continued with meditative air
"Of all the little things on this earth little
New Yorker is the smallest. I've met
ignorance in the South, sullen pigheaded-
ness In New England; I've measured the
boundless cheek OF the West. my native
heath; but for sef-satisied stupidity, for
lttleness in the world of morals, have seen
nothing on earth, or under it lin the new
subway. perhapsl quite so small as a we'll
to-do New Yorker. He has little brains or
culture. and only the rudiments Of common
sense, but, being from New York, he as
sumes everything. Of Gods big world
outside Wall street, Broadway, Fifth ave-
nue., Central Park and Coney Island, he
knows nothing; for he neither reads nor
travels; and yet pronounces instant judg-
ment on world movements of human
thought and society
Deacon Van Meter put on his hat and
went away The board took a thousand
dollars off the young pastors salary and
added it TO the music fund
The Rev Frank Gordon, our young pas
tor, was a man of powerful physique, wide
chest and broad shoulders, a tall athlete,
feet 4, of Viking mould, hair blond
and waving, steel gray eyes, strong aqui-
line nose and frank serious face. .
His accents qlivered with emotion that
swept the heart. Emotional thinking was
his trait. He could thrill his crowd with
sudden burst of eloquence, but he loved to
use the deep, vibrant subtones of his voice
so charged with feeling that he melted the
people into tears
Kate Ransom, the Gramercy Park mil
lionairess, tainted away when he was
preaching. He was married man with
two children, and he had no business to 70
to a picnic with Kate Ransom alone, but he
did go, and in the course OF the picnic we
find him saying to her: Sitting here in the
woods by your side on this glorious summer
day, your eyes looked 50 blue in the creamy
satin Of your face l suddenly thought
smelled the violets with which God mixed
their colors. Beauty is an attribute
Of the di, inc. worship 1t for its own sweet
sake wherever l find it, In pearl or opal,
dewdrop or flower, the stars, or woman
face or form or eyes" 1t says that Kate
lowered her head, and for the life of US we
cannot blame her
There was a duel about Kate later on.
It was fought with daggers In darkened
room in Hates house in Gramercy Park,
between our young pastor and his friend,
Overman, the banker. Our pastor had
divorced mis- wife and married Kate by a
sort of socialistic formula invented by
himself Kate had remained under his
mighty spell for about two years, and had
then yielded to the destinations of Over
man, who had only one eye and was the
ugliest man she or anybody else had ever
beheld. In the library of Rates house
there were two Italian daggers with blades
ten inches long, which were rather Curl
ously used for paper knives. Our pastor
handed one Of these TIC his friend, put the
blower over tho fire, and switched of the
electric light There Is a picture of the
duel, showing the blower in the foreground.
Gordon had told Kate just what he was
going to do with Overman, He made her
feel of his muscle. He drew his right
g,lN ,N. A