ed churches
into restaurants or vaudeville shows."

H. R. turned his hypnotic look full on the Bishop, who read therein the
desire to do.

"Thus must have looked HILDEBRAND!" thought the Bishop, in Roman
capitals, in spite of himself. On second thought he remembered to
characterize the language of Grace Goodchild's fiance as "bizarre."
Experience teaches that it is wisdom to encourage good intentions. This
is done by listening.

Since the Bishop was now obviously glad to listen, H. R. said, more
earnestly than ever:

"Tell me, Bishop, what is it that is desirable to possess and more
desirable to give, elevating, rare beyond words, thrice blessed, and
beautiful as heaven itself?"

"Truth!" exclaimed the Bishop, his voice ringing with conviction and the
pride of puzzle-solving. Being a human being, he had answered promptly.

H. R. shook his head and smiled forgivingly: "That's only theology;
possibly metaphysics. Forget rhetoric and get down to cases. _Truth!_
Pshaw! Can you imagine that combination of four consonants and one vowel
serving as a political platform or included in any live concern's
instructions to salesmen? Never! No, sir. Guess again! I've found it.
Rare, picturesque, with great dramatic possibilities and easy to
capitalize. It is--"

He paused and looked at the Bishop. The Bishop returned the look
fascinatedly. This young man was from another world. What would he say
next? And what would whatever he said mean?

"_Charity!_" exclaimed H. R., proudly.

The Bishop's face fell. You almost heard it.

H. R. shook a rigid forefinger at the Bishop's nose and said, in a
distinctly vindictive voice:

"_'But the greatest of these is charity'_!"

"We always preach--" began the Bishop, defensively.

"That's the trouble. _Don't!_ We'll tackle charity by easy steps. We'll
begin by the very lowest form, in order to break in American Christians
gradually. Feeding the hungry is spectacular and leads to the higher
forms. Show people that you will not only fill their bellies, but send
the caterer's bills direct to the Lord for payment, and the populace
will supply not only the food-receptacles, but the stationery. A great
deal," finished H. R., reflectively, "depends upon the right
stationery."

"I fear," said the Bishop, uncomfortably, "that we are talking to each
other across an impassable gulf."

"Not a bit, Bishop. The human intellect, properly directed, can bridge
any chasm. Let us be philosophical.