of his life. He was made into a broken-down beast by his masters, the
arch-beasts. He should be alive to-day, like your father. He had a
strong constitution. But he was caught in the machine and worked to
death--for profit. Think of it. For profit--his life blood transmuted
into a wine-supper, or a jewelled gewgaw, or some similar sense-orgy of
the parasitic and idle rich, his masters, the arch-beasts."



CHAPTER VII

THE BISHOP'S VISION


"The Bishop is out of hand," Ernest wrote me. "He is clear up in the
air. Tonight he is going to begin putting to rights this very miserable
world of ours. He is going to deliver his message. He has told me so,
and I cannot dissuade him. To-night he is chairman of the I.P.H.,* and
he will embody his message in his introductory remarks.

* There is no clew to the name of the organization for which
these initials stand.

"May I bring you to hear him? Of course, he is foredoomed to futility.
It will break your heart--it will break his; but for you it will be an
excellent object lesson. You know, dear heart, how proud I am because
you love me. And because of that I want you to know my fullest value, I
want to redeem, in your eyes, some small measure of my unworthiness.
And so it is that my pride desires that you shall know my thinking is
correct and right. My views are harsh; the futility of so noble a soul