he spoke the message God gave him he was not to grow anxious over the
outcome of it.

But the people of Milton were deeply stirred by the address. They were
not in the habit of hearing that kind of preaching. And what was more,
the whisky element was roused. It was not in the habit of having its
authority attacked in that bold, almost savage manner. For years its
sway had been undisturbed. It had insolently established itself in power
until even these citizens who knew its thoroughly evil character were
deceived into the belief that nothing better than licensing it was
possible. The idea that the saloon could be banished, removed, driven
out altogether, had never before been advocated in Milton. The
conviction that whether it could be it ought to be suppressed had never
gained ground with any number of people. They had endured it as a
necessary evil. Philip's sermon, therefore, fell something like a bomb
into the whisky camp. Before night the report of the sermon had spread
all over the town. The saloon men were enraged. Ordinarily they would
have paid no attention to anything a church or a preacher might say or
do. But Philip spoke from the pulpit of the largest church in Milton.
The whisky men knew that if the large churches should all unite to fight
them they would make it very uncomfortable for them and in the end
probably drive them out. Philip went home that Sunday night after the
evening service with several bitter enemies. The whisky men contributed
one element. Some of his own church-members made up another. He had
struck again at the same sore spot which he had wounded the month
before. In his attack on the saloon as an institution he had again
necessarily condemned all those members of his church who rented
property to the whisky element. Again, as a month ago, these property
holders went from the hearing of the sermon angry that they as well as
the saloon power were under indictment.