d authority of the civilized world.

Was he, with other theorists, responsible for the mad act?

He began to think that Tolstoy is right in his assertion that human
progress is a march of ideas--and that the day of revolution by
bloodshed has passed. He began to fear that his struggle with Bivens in
his long-drawn and fiercely contested lawsuit was an act of the same
essential quality of blind physical violence. He began to see that the
real motive back of his struggle was hatred of the man--this little
counter jumper, who had destroyed his business. It was the irony of
such a fate that sunk its poisoned dagger into his heart. He faced the
fact at last without flinching.

He rose and paced the floor of his library for a half-hour with
measured tread. He stopped suddenly and clenched his big fists
instinctively.

"I do hate him--with undying, everlasting hatred, and I pray God to
give me greater strength to hate him more!"

Again the picture of the pale, torn, blood-stained face, with its mute
piteous appeal, rose before him. The anger slowly melted out of his
heart and the old thought came back:

"How rich is my life after all compared to his!"

And then he made a mental inventory of his assets, with sad results. He
had tried for a long time not to face those facts. But if he gave up
the suit he must face them. He had identified this action at last with
his faith in the very existence of justice. To realize that the element
of personal hatred was the motive power back of it was a shock to the
whole structure of his character.

He rose with sudden determination. He would not surrender. He would
fight it out with this little swarthy scoundrel, win or lose. His house
was mortgaged, the last dollar of his savings he had spent in helping
others and the money set aside to finish Harriet's course in music had
been lost in the panic. He would fight it out somehow and win. But the
one thing that must not fail was the perfection of his girl's voice.
The court of appeals would certainly render their decision before her
next term's work would begin. She could rest during the summer. It
would do her good. If he could be firm with his tenants and collect his
room-rents promptly from everyone, the income from his house was still
sufficient to pay the interest on the mortgage and give them a little
to eat. It would be enough. Food for the soul was more important. He
resolved to ask Stuart to collect his rents.

He looked up