The Golden House

ed to this effect. His severely formal, simple ecclesiastical dress, coarse in material but perfect in its saintly lines, sep

and the humanitarian agnostics like Dr. Leigh, who were literally giving their lives without the least expectation of reward. Even the refined ethical-culture groups had no sneer for Father Damon. The little chapel of St. Anselm was well known. It was always open. It was plain, but its plainness was not the barrenness of a non-conformist chapel. There were two confessionals; a great bronze lamp attached to one of the pillars scarcely dispelled the obscurity, but cast an unnatural light upon the gigantic crucifix that hung from a beam in front of the chancel. There were half a dozen rows of backless benches in the centre of the chapel. The bronze lamp, and the candles always burni

he was weary with watching. He was faint with lonely vigils; he was visibly carrying the load of the poor and the despised. Even Ruth Leigh, who had dropped in for half an hour in one of her daily rounds-even Ruth Leigh, who had in her stanch, practical mind a contempt for forms and rituals, and no faith in anything that she could not touch, and who at times was indignant at the efforts wasted over the future o

ccasional hastening torrent of words. When he had occasion to address one of the societies of ladies for the promotion of something among the poor, his style and manner were simplicity itself. One might have said there was a shade of contempt in his familiar and not seldom slightly humorous remarks upon society and its aims and aspirations, about which he spoke p

has been discovered yet no situation that will not minister to its growth. Suffering perhaps it prefers, and contumely and persecution. Are not opposition, despiteful anger, slander even, rejection of men, stripes even, if such there could be in these days, manna to the devout soul consciously set apart for a mission? But success, obsequiousness, applause, the love of women, the concurrent good opinion of all humanitarians, are these not almost as dangerous as persecution? Father Damon, though exalted in his calling, and filled with a burning zeal, was a sincere man, and even his eccentricities of saintly conduct expressed to his mind only the high purpose of self-sacrifice. Yet he saw, he could not but see, the spiritual danger in this rising tide of adulation. He fought against its influence, he prayed against it, he tried to humiliate himself, and his very humiliations increased the adulation.

land question to do with the salvation of man? Suppose everybody on the East Side should become as industrious, as self-denying, as unselfish as Ruth Leigh, and yet without belief, wit

is no excuse for irreligion, and that all aid in the hardship of this world was vain and worthless unless the sinner laid hold on eternal life. Dr. Lei

try, with a drop from the rather austere manner

perhaps you would go round with me to se

for me? Do they w

t tone of sarcasm in her voice. "That's just like a priest," she w

to the Associa

doesn't want any charity, any association, treating him like a pauper. He's off pe

el

stitching, but she was too weak to hold up the muslin. There

out together, and for some time picked th

a softened voice, "Is t

ortly. "I found her crying bec

, did not heed her warning tone, but persisted, "You have so ma

understand, and hardened at the sli

e," he answered, softly but firmly. "You surely do not think human

t and suffering I see to raise anxieties about a

incompleteness in this life, in your own life? no

d prosperous way of living? She had thought of herself as working with him to a common end. But for him now to turn upon her, absolutely ignoring the solid, rational, and scientific ground on which he knew, or should know, she stood, and to speak to her as one of the "lost," startled her, and filled her with indignation. She had on her lips a sarcastic rep

etter not talk of that. I don't have much time for t

progress, and after a little silence the conversati

e medicines upon the stand, and that there were the remains of a meal which the children

ece of bread when I came. Of course they had to have som

youngest child in her lap and drawing the others about her, began to tell a story in a low voice. Presently she was aware that the prie

g?" whispered on

f chill came over her heart. It all se

, "We will see that you do not wa

k in tomorrow,"

ase, thanked her a little formally, and said that he would make inquiries and have it pro

red. I rather think it is good for me, being out-o

hreading her way through the crowded and unclean street, and then sl

, it was not much better than the cell of an anchorite. Of this, however, he was not thinking as he stretched himself out on his pallet to rest a

elfish spirit it was she. Yet she confessed her work hopeless. She had no faith, no belief in immortality, no expectation of any reward, nothing to offer to anybody beyond this poor life. Was this the enthusiasm of

did not seem to come into her life. For books she had little time, except the books of her specialty. The most exciting novels were pale compared with her daily experiences of real life. Almost her only recreation was a meeting of the working-girls, a session of her labor lodge, or an assembly at the Cooper Union, where some fiery orator, perhaps a priest, or a clever agitator, a working-man glib of speech, who had a mass of statistics at the end of his tong

plessness and incapacity seemed to her more hopeless than when she began. There might be a little enlightenment here and there, but there was certainly not less misery. The state of things was worse than she thought at

is the number of reading, thoughtful people among those who do manual labor. I doubt if on your side of town the best books, the real fundamental and abstru

ery revolutiona

y them to actual legislation; at any rate, they discriminate in vagaries. You would have been amused the other night in a small circle at the lamentation

he members of that c

ts theoretically-that is, if Nihilism means an absolute social and political overturning in order that something better may

ted. "But all this movement you spe

ntellectual force that is in it all, or allow for the fermenting power in th

e state of things. And Father Damon, who was trying to save souls, was he accomplishing anything more than she? Why had he been so curt with her when she went to him for help this afternoon? Was he just a narrow-minded, bigoted priest? A few nights before she had heard him speak on the single tax at a labor meeting. She recalled his eloquence, his profound sy