ately, are not yet at an end. It has been
my hope, on account of my former friendship with Mr. Hodder, that an
ecclesiastical trial might not be necessary. It now seems inevitable.
In the meantime, since Mr. Hodder has seen fit to remain in spite of
our protest, I do not intend to enter this church. I was prepared,
gentlemen, as some of you no doubt know, to spend a considerable sum in
adding to the beauty of St. John's and to the charitable activities of
the parish. Mr. Hodder has not disapproved of my gifts in the past, but
owing to his present scruples concerning my worthiness, I naturally
hesitate to press the matter now." Mr. Parr indulged in the semblance of
a smile. "I fear that he must take the responsibility of delaying this
benefit, with the other responsibilities he has assumed."

His voice changed. It became sharper.

"In short, I propose to withhold all contributions for whatever purpose
from this church while Mr. Hodder is rector, and I advise those of you
who have voted for his resignation to do the same. In the meantime,
I shall give my money to Calvary, and attend its services. And I shall
offer further a resolution--which I am informed is within our right--to
discontinue Mr. Hodder's salary."

There was that in the unparalleled audacity of Eldon Parr that compelled
Hodder's unwilling admiration. He sat gazing at the financier during
this speech, speculating curiously on the inner consciousness of the man
who could utter it. Was it possible that he had no sense of guilt? Even
so, he had shown a remarkable astuteness in relying on the conviction
that he (Hodder) would not betray what he knew.

He was suddenly aware that Asa Waring was standing beside him.

"Gentlemen," said Mr. Waring, "I have listened to this discussion as long
as I can bear it with patience. Had I been told of it, I should have
thought it incredible that the methods of the money changers should be
applied to the direction and control of the house of God. In my opinion
there is but one word which is suitable for what has passed here
to-night, and the word is persecution. Perhaps I have lived too long I
have lived to see honourable, upright men deprived of what was rightfully
theirs, driven from their livelihood by the rapacity of those who strive
to concentrate the wealth and power of the nation into their hands.
I have seen this power gathering strength, stretching its arm little by
little over the institutions I fought to preserve