on. He had begun to realize his _prejudices_ and to
learn to respect the beliefs of others even when he thought them wrong.
The memory of Father Cyprian and the Sioux boy had helped him to deal
kindly and respectfully with Skystein and Father O'Hara.

Strange to say, it was a travelling Hindu who supplied him with the
biggest, broadest thought of all. This swarthy scholar was deeply imbued
with the New Buddhism of Rammohan Roy and, when asked for his opinion of
some Romanist practices, he remarked softly, but evasively, "My religion
teaches me that if any man do anything sincerely, believing that thereby
he is worshipping God, he _is_ worshipping God and his action must be
treated with respect, so long as he is not infringing the rights of
others."

Jim took a long walk by the lake that day and turned over and over that
saying of the Hindu in the library. The thing had surprised him--first,
because of the perfect English in the mouth of a foreigner, and
secondly, because of the breadth and tolerance of the thought. He
wondered how he could ever have believed himself open-minded or fair
when he had been so miserably narrow in all his ideas. Where was he
headed? All his early days he had been taught to waste effort on
scorning the ceremonials great and small of Jews, Catholics, yes, of
Baptists even; and now the heathen--to whom he had once thought of going
as a missionary--had come to Chicago and shown him the true faith.

Striding at top speed, he passed a great pile of lumber and sawdust. The
fresh smell of the wet wood brought back Links--and his mother, and a
sense of happiness, for he had given up "trying to reason it all out."
He was no longer sure, as he once was, that he had omniscience for his
guide. Indeed he was sure only of this, that the kindest way is the only
way that is safe.

There was daylight dawning in his heart, and yet, across that dawn there
was a cloud which grew momentarily more black, more threatening.
Paradoxical as it seemed, Jim was intensely unhappy over the abandonment
of the ministerial career. The enduring force of his word as a man was
only another evidence of the authentic character of that deep emotional
outburst which had pledged him openly to the service of Christ. The work
at the Cedar Mountain House for a while satisfied the evangelical hunger
of his ardent soul. It was good, it was successful, it was increasing in
scope; but of its nature it could never be more than secular; it