"Yes," replied Cameron, "he gave a hundred dollars unsolicited, and promised more if it were needed."
There was silence for a moment; then the president said, "Brother Cameron, would you mind telling the Association just how your work is conducted? I for one, would like to know more about it, and perhaps we could all adopt a similar plan. What would you suggest as a remedy for the existing conditions in this city?"
"As far as our work goes, we have hardly touched the matter yet," replied Cameron. "There is room for every church In the place; but what we need, I feel sure, is a united effort, and—"
"Brethren," interrupted the Rev. Dr. Frederick Hartzel, "I must beg that this useless discussion be stopped. So far as I can see, all of this is of no profit whatever. My time is altogether too valuable to waste in such foolish talk as this. I endeavor to put some thought into my sermons, and I cannot take this valuable time from my studies. If the Association persists in taking up the meetings with such subjects, instead of discussing some of the recent theological themes that are attracting the attention of the clergy everywhere, I must beg that I be given optional attendance. These new-fangled notions of uneducated young men may be all right for some, but you can't expect such men as myself to listen to them. I move that we adjourn."
"Brother Cameron has the floor and I think the Brethren would like to hear him," suggested the president.
"Brother President," said Cameron, calmly, before the others could speak, for he saw the light of righteous indignation creeping into the eye of the big Rev. Howells; "if the Brethren wish to talk with me of our work, they know that they are always welcome at my home; and I will be glad to discuss any plan for reaching those for whom our Saviour died. I second Rev. Hartzell's motion to adjourn." And the meeting dismissed with prayer as usual, that God would fill their hearts with love, and help them to do their Master's work, as He would have it done, and that many souls might be added to their number.
That evening, lost in troubled thought, the young pastor of the Jerusalem Church sat alone before the fire, in his little study. Once his wife knocked timidly and opening the door, said, "James, dear, it's time you're going to bed."
"Not now, Fanny," he answered; and she, knowing well what that tone of voice meant, retired to her room, after seeing everything snug for the night.
The cocks were crowing midnight; the fire burned lower and lower. Once he impatiently hitched his chair a little closer, but made no other move, until, just as the clock chimed three, he arose stiffly to his feet and stood shivering with cold, looking at the blackened embers. Then he made his way to his chamber, where he fell asleep like a man tired out with a hard day's work.
All the next day he said nothing, but was silent and moody, and the following night sat once more alone in his study, thinking, thinking, thinking, until again the fire went out and he was cold.