arms against the common foe of that we hold dear in church, home, and
state. I know there are honest business men who have long writhed in
secret at the ignominy of the halter about their necks by which they
have been led. There are citizens who have the best interests of the
community at heart who have hung their heads in shame of American
politics, seeing this brutal whisky element dictating the government of
the towns, and parcelling out their patronage and managing their funds
and enormous stealings of the people's money. I know there are
church-members who have felt in their hearts the deep shame of bowing
the knee to this rum god in order to make advancement in political life.
And I call on all these to-day to rise with me and begin a fight against
the entire saloon business and whisky rule in Milton until by the help
of the Lord of hosts we have gotten us the victory. Men, women,
brothers, sisters in the great family of God on earth, will you sit
tamely down and worship the great beast of this country! Will you not
rather gird your swords upon your thighs and go out to battle against
this blasphemous Philistine who has defied the armies of the living God?
I have spoken my message. Let us ask the wisdom and power of the Divine
to help us."

Philip's prayer was almost painful in its intensity of feeling and
expression. The audience sat in deathly silence, and when he pronounced
the amen of the benediction it was several moments before any one
stirred to leave the church.

Philip went home completely exhausted. He had put into his sermon all of
himself and had called up all his reserve power--a thing he was not
often guilty of doing, and for which he condemned himself on this
occasion. But it was past, and he could not recall it. He was not
concerned as to the results of his sermon. He had long believed that if