o? Put up a forest of
props (as at the Abbey) and keep off touch and contamination? God forbid!
Let us go down into these dens of moral disease and disinfect them. The
poor working girls, of Soho want their Sunday: give it them. They want
music and singing: give it them. They want dancing: give them that also,
for God's sake, give it them in your churches, or the devil will give it
them in his hells!

"Expect to be howled at of course. Some good people will think I am
either a fanatic or an artful schemer, while the clerical place-seekers,
who love the flesh-pots of Egypt and have their eyes on the thrones of
the Church and the world, will denounce my 'secularity' and tell me I am
feeding the 'miry troughs' of the publican and sinner. No matter, if only
God is pleased to vouchsafe 'signs following.' And one weary-faced lonely
girl, grown fresh of countenance and happy of mien, or one bright little
woman, snatched from the brink of perdition, will be a better fruit, of
religion than some of them have seen for many a year.

"As soon as the workmen have cleared out I am going to establish a daily
service and keep the church open always. Still at Mrs. Callender's, you
see; but I am refusing all invitations, except as a priest, and already I
don't seem to, have time to draw my breath. No income connected with St.
Mary Magdalene's, or next to none, just enough to pay the caretaker; but
I must not complain of that, for it is the accident to which I owe my
church, nobody else wanting it under the circumstances. I had begun to
think my time in the monastery wasted, but God knew better. It will help
me to live the life of poverty, of purity, of freedom from the world.

"Love to the grandfather and the ladies. How I wish you were with me in
the thick of the fight! Sometimes I dream you are, too, and I fancy I see
you in the midst of these bright young things with their flowers and
feathers--they will make beautiful Christians yet! Oddly enough, on the
day you travelled to the island, every hour that took you farther away
seemed to bring you nearer. Greetings!"

VII.

"Glenfaba,'the Oilan.'

"Oh, gracious and grateful friend, at length you have remembered the
existence of the 'poor lone crittur' living in dead-alive land! Only that
I lack gall to make oppression bitter, I should of course return your
belated epistle by the Dead Letter Office, marked 'Unknown' across your
'Dear Glory,' there being no longer anybody in th