y have nothing to live for.

"Millions ask the question: _Is life worth living?_

"Because they have begun to ask it, they will never cease until they
have made it worth living.

"A deep, half-confused consciousness of the injustice of life has begun
to clutch our throats. We begin to curse both church and state, thank
God, at last! Statesmen must hear or die. Property must respond or
strengthen its bolts and bars and there's no room on the door for
another bolt. The church that has no answer to this cry is dead
already."

A cheer like the roar of an angry sea swept the crowd. Again and again
it rose and fell, increasing in volume as its contagious spirit set
fire to the restless minds of the thousands who had packed the Square
but could not hear the man who was voicing their faith.

In the deep roar of their cheers there was no sodden despair. As Stuart
looked into the faces of the crowd he saw no trace of the degeneracy
and loss of elemental manhood which makes the sight of an European mob
loathsome and hopeless. These men were still men, the might of freemen
in their souls and good right arms.

Where had such crowds met before? Somewhere he had seen them in body or
in spirit. Was it in the streets of Paris before the French Revolution
sent those long lines of death carts rumbling over her pavements to the
guillotine?

"Who is that fellow, Jim," Nan asked.

"Haven't the remotest idea."

"He's a great orator if he is an anarchist. He made the cold chills run
down my back."

"Yes, I'm just wondering how many more such firebrands of eloquence
could be found in this swaying forest of nobodies."

He watched the sneering faces of the policemen as they demanded silence
of the crowd. They couldn't understand what the fools were cheering
about. They had instructions to pull the whole "show" at a nod from the
censor. But he had deemed it as harmless as a Sunday-school picnic. The
words of the orator had rolled from his uniform like water from a
duck's back.

The next speaker devoted his time to a fierce denunciation of the
church, and ended with a bitter denial of the existence of God.

When the last echoes of the cheers had died away there was a stir near
the stand and Stuart saw the stalwart figure of Dr. Woodman suddenly
rise. He lifted his arm over the crowd, demanding silence.

Stuart could see that his old friend was deeply moved. His big hands
were trembling and his voice vibrant with emotion as he step