Charred Wood

for his salvation. It filled his life, but only as the air fills a vacuum; so it was, consequently, nothing that prevented other interests from living with it. It aroused him

d had suddenly become beautiful. No longer did Japan and Siberia call to him. He had no

tender light that was in itself an answer. After that it was always "Ruth" and "Mark." Father Murray also seemed to understand; with him, too, it was "Ruth" and "Mark." After one week of that glorious September, Mark was at Killimaga daily; and when October came and had almost passed, without a word of affection being spoken between

uff. "I love generosity and strength, truthfulness and mercy; but, most of all, I love cleanness. The world is

again?" ven

tage of cleanness. It is the best thing they brought to t

ish, are you not?" as

rather British. But don't question me about that; I am real

of the 'blessed drop' that makes the Uncle Macs what

not English, though born in England. Both father and m

u drift

r opportunity. I was ambitious, and then there was another reason-but th

of his helmet. He at least was of the soil.

ing," remarked Father Murray.

ve had no

umber days. But he lost his money, and he thinks that the town owes him a living. That

th the Protestant clergy

ned to call him a Unitarian, and he corrected me. 'But what,' I asked, 'is the difference between the Universalists and the Unitarians?' The little man smiled and sai

d Mark, "to be one of seven or eight Pr

ically and with a great deal of self-effacement. The country clergyman has trials that his ci

sting his dubiety with the sincerity of men who firmly believe-foremost among them t

eatest part of religion. I believe I did that very thing. I was once a believer, at least so I thought. I let my belief get away from me; it seemed no longer to merit consideration. I thought I had studied and discarded it; I see now that I simply cast it

, "deeply, although it was only as I thought. But tell me. What led

think I wanted to get away. My social interest and comfort, my independence, all seemed threatened by my faith. You will acknowledge, Father,

o gauge the sincerity of his companion. "In

l me what you thi

nce of God, is the idea of sacrifice. Even pagans never lost that idea. Nothing in this world is worth having but must be paid for. Its cost is summed up in sacrifice. Now, religion demands the same. If it calls for right living, it calls for the sacrifice that right living demands. An athlete gets his muscle and strength, not by coddling his body, but by restraining its passions and curbing its indolence, by working its softness into force and power. A r

t of the reckoning. I am not trying to excuse myself. I could not ignore it, for it intruded itself and fo

een made. If it has been made it must be conserved. Reason tells us that something then must have been established to conserve it. That something will last as long as the revelation needs conserving, which is to the end of the world. Now, only the Catholic Church claims that she has the care of that revelation-that she is the conserving force; which means that she is-as I have told you before-a 'City set upon a Mountain.' She can't help m

I should. I hate to think that I may have to give up my liberty; yet I am not going to argue, and I am not going to dispute. I wanted information, and I got it. Th

some little while before he spoke, and then v

ation upon which to base action. When the foundation is in place, there never can be any limit to the desire for building upon it. Now, God willed all that. He created the condition and is, therefore, obliged to satisfy the desires of that condition. Some day He must satisfy the desires to the full; but now He is obliged only to keep them fed, or to give them the means to keep fed. Of course, He could do that by a direct revelation to each individual; but that He has not done so is proved by the fact that, while there can be but one Truth, yet each individual who 'goes it alone' has a different conception of it. The idea of private religious inspiration has produced public religious anarchy.

moment, but Mark knew that

ed what he should do to be saved. He got his answer. Was Chr

nt upon his liberty. But you say that Christ is God, so

at he rebelled. Now have not I, and you, and all the world, the same right to get an answer as that young man had? Since we are a

ogical," ad

"the unerring Voice must s

. Where is it? I think it's the cry o

d you had thrown over-and that you can't get aw

two men. It lasted for over a

yourself. I know what you have been, what you have done, and how sadly you have suffered. Doesn't your religion demand too much-resignation? Does a God of Justice demand that we tamely submit

ms to be upon you. She filled those empty hands, for she honored me and gave me power. She set me in high places, and I honestly tried to be worthy. I worked for her, and I seemed to succeed. Then-and very suddenly and quietly-she pulled me down, and tore my robe of honor from me. My fellow priests, my ol

ark, "it seems

now that I have the big. What is religion for but to enlighten and to save-enlighten here that the future may hold salvation? What were my purple, power and title? Nothing, unless I could make them help to enlighten and to save myself and others. I ought to have fought them, but I was not big enough to see that they hindered where I could have made them help. Like a bolt out of the sunlight came the stripping. My shame was the best offering I have made during all the days of my life. In my misery I went to God as naturally as the poor prodigal son went to his father when he was reduced to eating husks from the trough of the swine. I

the single word held the solemnity of a prayer. "

ark, what he sincer