He did not give you the spirit and
understanding for paving, eh, is that it? How do you know He
gave this Margret Howth the spirit and understanding of a
reformer? There may be higher work for her to do."
"Higher!" The old man stood aghast. "I know your creed,
then,--that the true work for a man or a woman is that which
develops their highest nature?"
Vandyke laughed.
"You have a creed-mania, Knowles. You have a confession of faith
ready-made for everybody, but yourself. I only meant for you to
take care what you do. That woman looks as the Prodigal Son
might have done when he began to be in want, and would fain have
fed himself with the husks that the swine did eat."
Knowles got up moodily.
"Whose work is it, then?" he muttered, following the men down the
street; for they walked on. "The world has waited six thousand
years for help. It comes slowly,--slowly, Vandyke; even through
your religion."
The young man did not answer: looked up, with quiet, rapt eyes,
through the silent city, and the clear gray beyond. They passed
a little church lighted up for evening service: as if to give a
meaning to the old man's words, they were chanting the one anthem
of the world, the Gloria in Excelsis. Hearing the deep
organ-roll, the men stopped outside to listen: it heaved and
sobbed through the night, as if bearing up to God the wrong of
countless aching hearts, then was silent, and a single voice
swept over the moors in a long, lamentable cry:--"Thou that
takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us!"
The men stood silent, until the hush was broken by a low
murmur:--"For Thou only art holy.
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