He was asking this question the next morning as he sat in his study when the President of the Endeavor Society of his church called to see him.

“I suppose I ought not to trouble you with my case,” said young Morris coming at once to his errand, “but I thought, Mr. Maxwell, that you might advise me a little.”

“I’m glad you came.  Go on, Fred.”  He had known the young man ever since his first year in the pastorate, and loved and honored him for his consistent, faithful service in the church.

“Well, the fact is, I am out of a job.  You know I’ve been doing reporter work on the morning Sentinel since I graduated last year.  Well, last Saturday Mr. Burr asked me to go down the road Sunday morning and get the details of that train robbery at the Junction, and write the thing up for the extra edition that came out Monday morning, just to get the start of the news.  I refused to go, and Burr gave me my dismissal.  He was in a bad temper, or I think perhaps he would not have done it.  He has always treated me well before.  Now, do you think Jesus would have done as I did?  I ask because the other fellows say I was a fool not to do the work.  I want to feel that a Christian acts from motives that may seem strange to others sometimes, but not foolish.  What do you think?”

“I think you kept your promise, Fred. I cannot believe Jesus would do newspaper reporting on Sunday as you were asked to do it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Maxwell.  I felt a little troubled over it, but the longer I think it over the better I feel.”

Morris rose to go, and his pastor rose and laid a loving hand on the young man’s shoulder.  “What are you going to do, Fred?”

“I don’t know yet.  I have thought some of going to Chicago or some large city .”

“Why don’t you try the news?”

“They are all supplied.  I have not thought of applying there.”

Maxwell thought a moment.  “Come down to the news office with me, and let us see Norman about it.”

So a few minutes later Edward Norman received into his room the minister and young Morris, and Maxwell briefly told the cause of the errand.

“I can give you a place on the news,” said Norman with his keen look softened by a smile that made it winsome.  “I want reporters who won’t work Sundays.  And what is more, I am making plans for a special kind of reporting which I believe you can develop because you are in sympathy with what Jesus would do.”

He assigned Morris a definite task, and Maxwell started back to his study, feeling that kind of satisfaction (and it is a very deep kind) which a man feels when he has been even partly instrumental in finding an unemployed person a remunerative position.

He had intended to go right to his study, but on his way home he passed by one of Milton Wright’s stores.  He thought he would simply step in and shake hands with his parishioner and bid him God-speed in what he had heard he was doing to put Christ into his business.  But when he went into the office, Wright insisted on detaining him to talk over some of his new plans.  Maxwell asked himself if this was the Milton Wright he used to know, eminently practical, business-like, according to the regular code of the business world, and viewing every thing first and foremost from the standpoint of, “Will it pay?”