She heard the pastor now. He was preaching. She settled herself for a long sermon. That was the kind the Baptists preached, she judged. Soon she found herself listening to the words that came from his lips. He told the story of Damon and Pythias. How glorious, she thought! Pythias was a man—and so was Damon. They were strong men—with, what was that, she was thinking of it all the time? Yes, they were strong men with the strength of their convictions. "Amen" came all about her. And still the pastor was preaching. And he was preaching a good sermon. She heard it all, and it concerned men—and the strength of their convictions.
"To be a Christian," she heard him now, "you must be strong. You must be courageous, and willing to sacrifice for your brother, as was Damon for Pythias. There are those who are Christians with all the feeling—on Sunday. Monday, they are like any other sinner. This version of Christianity and religion, is the reason Hell is getting so many people every day. Sometimes when I think it over, I don't wonder; because, all my life, I have been constrained to observe, that too many people regard Jesus as the individual, and not as the moral. It is the moral of the Christ, his teachings and example, that we are to follow. We do not know him, insofar as the Christian sense is concerned, as an individual. But it is a fact that so many of our preachers wax eloquent, and literally bring down the heavens, and, likewise, great demonstration from the congregation thereby. But, to be a successful practitioner, one must be strong; he must stand for something; to be a successful farmer, a man must be practical; to be a successful business man, requires application and fortitude; to be a good husband, and the father of a happy family, requires strength—in short, to be anything in this life, requires strength! Therefore, dear friends, fancy, if you can, how a weak man can be a Christian. For, to be a Christian, requires the strength of all things."
She was moved. Oh, it was a relief to listen to a good sermon! And she was glad to hear a Baptist preacher speak so forcibly in such terms. She was not so very well acquainted with this denomination and its pastors; but, from her observation, she had almost concluded that they appealed to the emotion, rather than to strength. She wondered now, as she saw him making gestures in emphasizing his words, whether he had taken any interest in the Y.M.C.A. She decided to find out, if she became an attendant of this church.
When the sermon had closed, she contributed liberally to the table, whereupon she was looked at closely by the man who took collections. When she had reseated herself, and glanced in the direction of the table, she saw the man pointing her out to the pastor, whose eyes, for a moment, rested upon her in curiosity.
When she was leaving the church at the close of the services, someone touched her arm. She turned quickly, with a pang of the heart, recalling with fright, having been touched a week before. She had no need to fear, however. It was the man who had taken collections.
"The pastor would like a word with you, Madam," he said, with his hat in his hand, and all politeness. She blushed, and then, turning, followed him back into the church, where she came upon the pastor, standing among several people.
"Ah," he said, advancing as soon as she drew near. "And this is the young lady we observed. Pardon me, Miss, but you are a stranger among us. We wish you to feel welcome in our church. I hope the service didn't bore you." He was a good man. Her ideal of a true Christian. She replied with embarrassment, and blushed fearfully:
"Oh, no, indeed not, Sir! I enjoyed the service—oh, ever so much! And I am delighted to be made welcome here. I hope to come to services very often—every Sunday. I think you preached a wonderful sermon!" She paused now, too embarrassed to go on. He saw it, and made haste to dispell it. Introductions followed, and invitations were the order.
It was over now, and she was happy. At that moment, she felt at peace with the world. And this included the evil black woman with whom she roomed, and who didn't attend church. She grasped the hands that now sought hers, and murmured kind words. Then she turned, and before her stood the man with the scar. She uttered a low cry, and the next moment, fell prone upon her face, in a dead faint.