your life, years of
your labour and your youth, to throw yourself into a struggle which
without money is hopeless. Remember that there was a time when I too
was young. I too saw these things as you and Brooks see them to-day. I
do not wish to preach pessimism to you. I fought and was worsted. So
will you be. The whole thing is a vast chimera, a jest of the God you
have made for yourself. But as long as the world lasts the young will
have to buy knowledge--as I have bought it. Don't go into the fray
empty-handed--it will only prolong the suffering."

"You speak," she protested, gently, "as though it were impossible to do
good."

"It is absolutely and entirely impossible to do good by any means which
you and Brooks and the whole army of your fellow-philanthropists have
yet evoked," he answered, with a sudden fierce note in his tone. "Don't
think that I speak to you as a cynic, one who loiters on the edge of the
cauldron and peers in to gratify cravings for sensation. I have been
there, down in the thick of it, there where the mud is as black as
hell--bottomless as eternity. I was young--as you--mad with enthusiasm.
I had faith, strength, belief. I meant to cleanse the world. I
worked till the skin hung on my bones. I gave all that I
had--youth--gifts--money. And, do you know what I was doing? I was
swimming against the tide of natural law, stronger than all mankind,
unconquerable, eternal. There wasn't the smallest corner of the world
the better for my broken life. There wasn't a child, a man, or a woman
content to grasp my hand and climb out. There were plenty who mocked
me. But they fell back again. They fell back always."

"Oh, but you can't tell that," she cried. "You can't be sure."

"You can be as sure of it as of life itself," he answered. "Come, take
my advice. I know. I can save you a broken youth--a broken heart.
Keep away from there."

He pointed out of the window eastwards.

"You can be charitable like the others, subscribe to societies, visit
the sick, read the Bible, play at it as long as you like--but keep away
from the real thing. If you feel the fever in your veins--fly. Go
abroad, study art, literature, music--anything. Only don't listen to
that cry. It will draw you against your will even. But not you nor the
whole world of women, or the world full of gold, will ever stop it. It
is the everlasting legacy to the world of outraged nature."

He went swiftly and silently, leaving her motionless. Sh