ip
with a sense of almost anger. He had a keen and truthful taste in
matters of architecture, and those boxes of houses offended every
artistic and home-like feeling in him. Coming home one day past the
tenements he found himself in an unknown street, and for the curiosity
of it he undertook to count the saloons on the street in one block.
There were over twelve. There was a policeman on the corner as Philip
reached the crossing, and he inquired of the officer if he could tell
him who owned the property in the block containing the saloons.

"I believe most of the houses belong to Mr. Winter, sir."

"Mr. William Winter?" asked Philip.

"Yes, I think that's his name. He is the largest owner in the Ocean Mill
yonder."

Philip thanked the man and went on toward home. "William Winter!" he
exclaimed. "Is it possible that man will accept a revenue from the
renting of his property to these vestibules of hell? That man! One of
the leading members in my church! Chairman of the board of trustees and
a leading citizen of the place! It does not seem possible!"

But before the week was out Philip had discovered facts that made his
heart burn with shame and his mind rouse with indignation. Property in
the town which was being used for saloons, gambling-houses, and dens of
wickedness, was owned in large part by several of the most prominent
members of his church. There was no doubt of the fact. Philip, whose
very nature was frankness itself, resolved to go to these men and have a
plain talk with them about it. It seemed to him like a monstrous evil
that a Christian believer, a church-member, should be renting his
property to these dens of vice, and taking the money. He called on Mr.
Winter; but he was out of town and would not be back until Saturday
night. He went to see another member who was a large owner in one of the
mills, and a heavy property owner. It was not a pleasant thing to do,
but Philip boldly stated the precise reason for his call, and asked his
member if it was true that he rented several houses in a certain block
where saloons and gambling-houses were numerous. The man looked at
Philip, turned red, and finally said it was a fact, but none of Philip's
business.

"My dear brother," said Philip, with a sad but winning smile, "you
cannot imagine what it costs me to come to you about this matter. In one
sense, it may seem to you like an impertinent meddling in your business.
In another sense, it is only what I ought