bowed; others kept their eyes fixed on the priest. One or two had their
faces turned toward the choir-loft, completely absorbed in the full,
deep tones that rolled now and then through the responses.

Nothing of all this impressed Felix at first. He had always regarded
the Roman Catholic church as embodying a religion adapted only to the
ignorant and the superstitious. But, as he looked about on the rapt body
of worshippers, he suddenly wondered if there were not something in its
beliefs, forms, and ceremonies that he had hitherto missed.

The wonder grew upon him as he watched the worshippers, his eyes resting
now on a figure of a woman on her knees before the small altar at his
left, her half-naked baby flat on its back beside her; and again that of
an unkempt gray-haired man, his clothes old and ragged, his body bent,
his lips trembling in supplication. All at once, and for the first
time in his life, he began to realize the existence of a something
all-powerful, to which these people appealed, a something beneficent
which swept their faces free of care, as a light drives out darkness,
and sent them home with new hope and courage. Religion had played no
part in his life. From his boyhood he had made his fight without it. Had
they tried and failed and, disheartened in their failure, sought at last
for higher help, realizing that no one man was strong enough to make the
fight of life alone?

As he asked himself these questions, the personality of the priest began
to exert its influence over him. He followed his movements, the dignity
and solemnity with which he exercised his functions, the reverential
tones of his voice, the adoration shown in his every act and gesture.
And as he watched there arose another question--one he had often debated
within himself: Were these people about him calmed and rested by the
magnetic personality of the big-chested, strong-armed man; were they
aided by the seductions of music, incense, and color, including the very
vestments that hung from his broad shoulders; or did the calm and rest
and aid proceed from a source infinitely higher, more powerful, more
compelling, as had been shown in the case of the would-be murderer cowed
by the sight of a sacred emblem? And if there were two personalities,
two influences, two dominant powers, one of man and the other of God,
which one had he, Felix O'Day, come here to invoke?

At this mental question, the more practical side of his nature came to