ou heard him preach?'

"'No.'

"'We think his sermons are fine. Everybody likes them but grandpapa.
He wants noise, you know--lung power and old theology. I hate it!'

"'He doesn't take to Robert?'

"'No; he calls him a calf. Nobody is good enough for me, you know.
He'd like me to marry some man with a hoe, who would take me to church
and Sunday school every sabbath morning, and for a walk to the
cemetery in the afternoon, and down to the prayer-meeting every
Wednesday night, and on a journey from Genesis to Revelations once a
year. It's too much to expect of a human being. Then the hoes are in
the hands of Poles, Slavs, and Italians. So what am I to do?'

"'Well, you are young--you can afford to wait a while,' I said.

"'But not until I am old and all withered up. I am going to marry the
man I love within a year or so, if he has the good sense to ask me.
Don't you ever go to church?'

"'No,' I said.

"'Why not?'

"I tried to think. There were the ministers--two boys and three old
men--dried beef and veal! Not to my knowledge had a single one of them
ever expressed an idea. They were seen, but not felt. The Church! Why,
certainly, it was founded on the sweetness, strength, and sanity of a
great soul. I had almost forgotten that. It had grown feeble. It had
got its fortunes entangled in psychological hair. It should have been
correcting the follies of the people--their selfishness, their sinful
pride, their extravagance, their loss of honor and humanity. Had I not
seen, in the case of Harry and his followers, how the Church had
failed in its work? Ought it not to have sought and saved them long
ago--saved them from needless disaster? It should have been appealing
to their consciences. If appeals had failed it should have stung them
with ridicule or raised a voice like that of Christ against the
Pharisees. The Church! Why, it was living, not in the present, but in
the past. Here in Pointview the Church itself had become one of the
greatest follies of the time.

"'I want you to go next Sunday and hear Mr. Knowles, as a favor to
me--won't you?' Marie asked.

"'Yes,' I said. 'In the next five Sundays I shall go to every
Protestant church in Pointview. I want to know what they're doing. I
shall put aside my scruples and go.'"

XIV

IN WHICH SOCRATES DISCOVERS A NEW FOLLY

"Well, I went and saw the Reverend Robert Knowles sail between 'Silly
and Charybdis.' He bumped on both sides, but did it rather