The Iron Heel

o rights this very miserable world of ours. He is going to deliver his message. He has told me so, and I cannot

o the name of the or

nitials

And because of that I want you to know my fullest value, I want to redeem, in your eyes, some small measure of my unworthiness. And so it is that my pride desires that you shall know my thinking is correct and right. My vi

he sat on the platform, and I could see the high tension he was under. By his side were Bishop Dickinson; H. H. Jones, the head of the ethical department in the University of California; Mrs. W.

minutes to cross b

. These, and the

composed o

eally are. At first I covered my eyes with my hands to shut out the awful sight, and then, in the darkness, the question came to me: What is to be done? What is to be done? A little later the

public women to get into the brougham with me. If Jesus was right, then these two unfortunate

t as much more. The house is a mansion. No, it is a palace, wherein there are many servants. I never knew what palaces were good for. I had thought they were to live in

ying greater and greater dismay and consternation. And at this point Bishop Dickinson arose, and with an expression of disgust on

idn't know what broughams were made for, but now I know. They are made to carry the weak, the

use for them. The palaces of the Church should be hospitals and nur

ome by the thought that was in him,

is gospel there can be no other relation between man and man than the relation of affection. Love alone is stronger than sin-stronger than death. I therefore say to the rich among you that it is their duty to do what I have done and am doing. Let each one of you who is p

have put mammon in the place of Christ. I have here a poem that tells the whole story. I should like to read it to you. It was written by an erring soul who yet saw clearly.* It must not be mistaken for an

umpets rang ac

lt upon the gr

on the necks

t God, the Hol

wore a robe mor

swathed himsel

gold rose high

in light the P

back across wide

andered by a

vain for any

les, and every

must wand

t, and drink wine

ne of the lords

ntury of the

nsive. Yet Bishop Morehouse was not aw

s. You have hardened your hearts. You have closed your ears to the voices that are crying in the land

already risen from their chairs, led the Bishop off the

ained the street. His laughter jarred upon me. My

ishop burst out, and his Christian audience, that loved him, concluded that he was crazy! Did you see th

reat impression, what the Bisho

Ernest queri

d. "Didn't you see the reporters scri

ch will appear in

elieve it,

t a line, not a thought that he uttered.

ers," I objecte

e Bishop's utterance was a violent assault upon the established morality. It was heresy. They led him from the platform to prevent him from uttering more heresy. The newspapers will purge his heresy in the obl

ng from nervous prostration and has been given a vacation by his grateful flock. After that, one of two things will happen: either the Bishop will see the error of his way and return from his vacation a well man in whose eyes there are n

u go too far!

and brotherly? True, Christ died between two thieves, but that is another story. Insanity? The mental processes of the man with whom one disagrees, are always wrong. Therefore t

here's what happened to her. Her husband had an accident and was laid up in hospital three months. In spite of taking in washing, she got behind in her rent. Yesterday they evicted her. But first, she hoisted an American flag, and from under its folds she announc

ld disagree with everybody about the literary style of

opinion on the parts of Mary McKenna and the Bishop do menace society. What if all the poor people should refuse to pay rent and shelter themse

I refused

" Ernest said,

ouse had uttered was in print. Mention was made in one or two of the papers that he had been over

of overwork. So far so good, but there had been no hint of insanity, nor even of nervous collapse. Little did I dre