family.  There are dozens of families in this church that could do that.  It would take money.  It would take time.  It would mean real self-denial.  It would call for all your Christian grace and courage.  But what does all this church membership and church life mean if not just such sacrifice?  We cannot give anything to this age of more value than our own selves.  The world of sin and want and despair and disbelief is not hungering for money or mission-schools or charity balls or state institutions for the relief of distress, but for live, pulsing, loving Christian men and women, who reach out live, warm hands, who are willing to go and give themselves, who will abandon, if necessary, if Christ calls for it, the luxuries they have these many years enjoyed in order that the bewildered, disheartened, discontented, unhappy, sinful creatures of earth may actually learn of the love of God through the love of man.  And that is the only way the world ever has learned of the love of God.  Humanity brought that love to the heart of the race, and it will continue so to do until this earth’s tragedy is all played and the last light put out.  Members of Calvary Church, I call on you in Christ’s name this day to do something for your Master that will really show the world that you are what you say you are when you claim to be a disciple of that One who, although he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, giving up all heaven’s glory in exchange for all earth’s misery, the end of which was a cruel and bloody crucifixion.  Are we Christ’s disciples unless we are willing to follow him in this particular?  We are not our own.  We are bought with a price.”

When that Sunday service closed, Calvary Church was stirred to its depths.  There were more excited people talking together all over the church than Philip had ever seen before.  He greeted several strangers as usual and was talking with one of them, when one of the trustees came up and said the Board would like to meet him, if convenient for him, as soon as he was at liberty.

Philip accordingly waited in one of the Sunday-school class-rooms with the trustees, who had met immediately after the sermon, and decided to have an instant conference with the pastor.

CHAPTER XIII.

The door of the class-room was closed and Philip and the trustees were together.  There was a moment of embarrassing silence and then the spokesman for the Board, a nervous little man, said: 

“Mr. Strong, we hardly know just what to say to this proposition of yours this morning about going out of the parsonage and turning it into an orphan asylum.  But it is certainly a very remarkable proposition and we felt as if we ought to meet you at once and talk it over.”

“It’s simply impossible,” spoke up one of the trustees.  “In the first place, it is impracticable as a business proposition.”

“Do you think so?” asked Philip, quietly.