back
seat. On a platform a preacher was striding to and fro shouting,
singing snatches of hymns, and praying. In his excitement he would
fall on his knees and raise his hands heavenward; again he would
spring up and beat himself with his hands, and violently kick the
floor, preaching, singing, and praying alternately.

"Save yourselves from the eternal wrath of an angry God!" he cried. "I
tell you that hell is yawning for you; the burning breath of countless
devils is about you. Christ died to save you; will you not trust in
him? Now is the only time; to-morrow it may be too late!"

After awhile the congregation began to sing a hymn, and the preacher
went on: "Come forward all who want the prayers of the church. Come
now, and embrace salvation!" And men, women, and children trembling
with fear, and weeping and groaning, went to the altar and threw
themselves on their knees.

The poor woman looked at her son. His face was pale and set as with
the agony of death. She glanced over the congregation. People sat
there wrestling with the greatest problem of their lives, their faces
white, their eyes dilated. Others were smiling as if highly amused at
the preacher's actions. Members of ritualistic churches, who had come
out of curiosity, were frowning contemptuously, and congratulating
themselves on the dignity of their own form of worship.

"I must go," said the son to his mother. "I must be with those that
need me. Here they teach that the Eternal Father hates His children.
If only they knew Him they would not be afraid."

He never entered a church again. He continued his life as he had begun
it, teaching human love and gentleness to all he knew. Once he was
trying to save a half-demented drunkard from being beaten by an
inhuman policeman, and was put into prison. While he was there his
mother died, and when he was released, his health was broken.

A week passed in which he could get no food to eat. He was starving.
One moonlit night he rose and staggered out to search for bread,
suffering indescribable tortures. His voice had gone. He stood on the
corner of a street, and mutely held out his hands to passers-by, but
they paid no heed to him. Along the street he tottered till he came to
a brightly lighted building. A church was holding a festival.
Beautiful women in the height of fashion, children in the daintiest of
dresses, were promenading about. He looked in at the door, and when he
saw the long tables filled with e