s the most pitiful.
If a politician, he has no dream; if a business man, he has no vision;
if a preacher, he lives in a mausoleum of dead hopes. To these the ten
commandments sum up the moral order of the universe. The eleventh
commandment shares the fate of the seed that fell on stony ground.

The worst that a man can do against the democratic ideal is not to
work for it. He might as well fight against the stars in their
courses. What does it matter who brings it to pass or how it comes?

To work for it is the thing. To feel the thrill of a
world-comradeship, a world-endeavour, to be in line with the workers
and touch hands with men of all creeds, all classes, this is social
joy, this is incentive for life!

"Then a man shall work and bethink him, and rejoice in the deeds
of his hand,
Nor yet come home in the even, too faint and weary to stand.
Men in that time a-coming shall work and have no fear
For to-morrow's lack of earning and the hunger-wolf a-near.
Oh, strange, new wonderful justice! But for whom shall we gather
the gain?
For ourselves and for each of our fellows, and no hand shall labour
in vain.
Then all mine and all thine shall be ours and no more shall any
man crave
For riches that serve for nothing but to fetter a friend for a slave.
And what wealth then shall be left us when none shall gather gold
To buy his friend in the market and pinch and pine the sold?
Nay, what save the lovely city and the little house on the hill,
And the wastes and the woodland beauty and the happy fields we till,
And the homes of ancient stories, the tombs of the mighty dead,
And the wise men seeking out marvels and the poet's teaming head.
And the painter's hand of wonder, and the marvellous fiddle-bow,
And the banded choirs of music--all those that do and know.
For all these shall be ours and all men's, nor shall any lack a share
Of the toil and the gain of living in the days when the world grows
fair."

In the very advent of my spiritual life I gravitated toward the
church. There I added to my faith a theology. A theologian is a
fighter--a doctrinaire. Every item of knowledge I got I sharpened into
a weapon to confound the Catholics.

Before my nakedness was wholly covered I was shouting with my sect for
"Queen and Constitution," and I could discuss the historic Episcopate
before I could write my own name. Then came a