ke the
greater part of the Church of England. It's a maddening and atrociously
bad and cheap alcohol, but it does enflame. I tell you, my dear old
Chator and my dear old Nigel, you have the greatest opportunity
imaginable for energy, for living and bringing life to others, if only
you'll not sit down and be content because you've got the children and
can fill the church for Evening Prayer with that colorless, dreary,
dreadfully sorrowful crowd I saw to-night."

Michael leaned back in his chair; the fire crackled above the silence;
and, outside, the disheartened quiet of the Sabbath was brooding. Chator
was the first to speak.

"Some of what you say may be true, but the rest of it is a mere muddle
of heresies and misconceptions and misstatements. It's absolute
blasphemy to say that God is contemptuous of what you called the
intermediates, and you apparently believe that evil is only misdirected
good. You apparently think that your harlots and bullies are better for
being more actively harmful."

"No, no," Michael corrected. "You didn't follow my argument. As a matter
of fact, I believe in the absolutism of evil the more, the more I see of
evil men and women. What I meant was that in proportion to the harm they
have power to effect would be the inspiration and advantage of turning
their abilities toward good. But cut out all theological questions and
confess that the Church has failed with the class I speak of."

The argument swayed backward and forward for a long time, without
reaching a conclusion.

"You can't have friars nowadays," said Chator in response to Michael's
last expression of ambition. "Conditions have changed."

"Conditions had changed when St. Francis of Assisi tried to revive an
absolute Christianity," Michael pointed out. "Conditions had changed
when the Incarnation took place. Pontius Pilate, Caiaphas, Judas, and a
host of contemporaries must have tried to point that out. Materialists
are always peculiarly sensitive to the change of external conditions. Do
you believe in Christ?"

"Don't try to be objectionable, my dear fellow," said Chator, getting
very red.

"Well, if you do," persisted Michael, "if you accept the Gospels, it is
utterly absurd for you as a Christian priest to make 'change of
conditions' an excuse for having failed to rescue the sinners of your
parish."

"Michael," said Stewart, intervening on account of Chator's obviously
rising anger. "Why are you living in Leppard Street