money from the sale to help the widow to purchase mourning. It was full
as ghastly as that would be.

He went to see some of the other ministers, hoping to unite them in a
combined attack on the saloon power. It seemed to him that, if the
Church as a whole entered the crusade against the saloon, it could be
driven out even from Milton, where it had been so long established. To
his surprise he found the other churches unwilling to unite in a public
battle against the whisky men. Several of the ministers openly defended
license as the only practicable method of dealing with the saloon. All
of them confessed it was evil, and only evil, but under the
circumstances thought it would do little good to agitate the subject.
Philip came away from several interviews with the ministers, sad and
sick at heart.

He approached several of the prominent men in the town, hoping to enlist
some of them in the fight against the rum power. Here he met with an
unexpected opposition, coming in a form he had not anticipated. One
prominent citizen said:

"Mr. Strong, you will ruin your chances here if you attack the saloons
in this savage manner; and I'll tell you why: The whisky men hold a
tremendous influence in Milton in the matter of political power. The
city election comes off the middle of next month. The men up for office
are dependent for election on the votes of the saloon men and their
following. You will cut your head off sure if you come out against them
in public. Why, there's Mr. ----, and so on (he named half a dozen men)
in your church who are up for office in the coming election. They can't
be elected without the votes of the rummies, and they know it. Better
steer clear of it, Mr. Strong. The saloon has been a regular thing in