On the afternoon of the day following his fruitless interview with the president of the Malleson Manufacturing Company, the rector of Christ Church sat alone in his study, immersed in thought. Not pleasant thought; far from it. The times were too sadly out of joint for that, the outlook was too darkly threatening. His own path was filled, not only with obstacles ahead, but with failures and wrecks behind. His dream of fusing the classes together in Christian fellowship in Christ Church had not been fulfilled. His months of effort in that behalf had not only been wasted, but had resulted in widening the breach between the very classes he would have brought together. He had succeeded only in crippling and disorganizing his church, and in splitting the body of it in twain. He had offended, antagonized, and driven from his communion, many of the chief supporters of the church, and not a few of its most devout and zealous members. Alas! their places had not been filled by people of any class. He had made no substantial inroad into the ranks of the toilers. Few of those who had at first flocked to his standard remained to help him fight his battles. Fewer still accepted the creed of his Church, or declared their intention of uniting with it. The throngs that, during the first months of his crusade, had come to hear him preach the new gospel of Christian fellowship, had fallen sadly away. There was now room, and plenty of it, in all the pews, at all the services. The treasury of the church was empty, its obligations were unpaid, many of its institutions were
