ers and women of the town; who again
and again, in the most explicit language, denounced wealth and
the holding of wealth: 'Lay not up for yourselves treasures on
earth!'--'Sell that ye have and give alms!'--'Blessed are ye poor, for
yours is the kingdom of Heaven!'--'Woe unto you that are rich, for ye
have received your consolation!'--'Verily, I say unto you, that a rich
man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of Heaven!' Who denounced in
unmeasured terms the exploiters of his own time: 'Woe unto you, scribes
and pharisees, hypocrites!'--'Woe unto you also, you lawyers!'--'Ye
serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of
hell?' Who drove out the business men and brokers from the temple with a
whip! Who was crucified--think of it--for an incendiary and a disturber
of the social order! And this man they have made into the high priest of
property and smug respectability, a divine sanction of all the horrors
and abominations of modern commercial civilization! Jeweled images are
made of him, sensual priests burn incense to him, and modern pirates of
industry bring their dollars, wrung from the toil of helpless women
and children, and build temples to him, and sit in cushioned seats and
listen to his teachings expounded by doctors of dusty divinity--"

"Bravo!" cried Schliemann, laughing. But the other was in full
career--he had talked this subject every day for five years, and had
never yet let himself be stopped. "This Jesus of Nazareth!" he cried.
"This class-conscious working-man! This union carpenter! This agitator,
law-breaker, firebrand, anarchist! He, the sovereign lord and master
of a world which grinds the bodies and souls of human beings into
dollars--if he could come into the world this day and see the things
that men have made in his name, would it not blast his soul with horror?
Would he not go mad at the sight of it, he the Prince of Mercy and Love!
That dreadful night when he lay in the Garden of Gethsemane and writhed
in agony until he sweat blood--do you think that he saw anything worse
than he might see tonight upon the plains of Manchuria, where men march
out with a jeweled image of him before them, to do wholesale murder for
the benefit of foul monsters of sensuality and cruelty? Do you not know
that if he were in St. Petersburg now, he would take the whip with which
he drove out the bankers from his temple--"

Here the speaker paused an instant for breath. "No, comrade," said the