spoke there broke out such a tumult as I had never heard in any public
meeting. The yells, hisses, cat-calls, whoopings, were indescribable. It
only ceased when Mr. Grand rose, and standing on a chair, appealed to
the audience to "Give him your minds, my men, and let him understand
that Lowbridge is no place for a godless rascal like him."

I will do Mr. Grand the justice to say I do not think he intended his
words to have the effect they did have. A dozen men leaped on the
platform, and in a moment I saw Joshua under their feet. They had it all
their own way, and while he lay on the ground, pale and senseless, one,
with a fearful oath, kicked him twice on the head. Suddenly a whisper
went round, they all drew a little, way off, the gas was turned down,
and the place cleared as if by magic. When the lights were up again, I
went to lift him--and he was dead.

The man who had lived the life after Christ more exactly than any human
being ever known to me was killed by the Christian party of order. So
the world has ever disowned its best when they came.

The death of my friend has left me not only desolate but uncertain. Like
Joshua in earlier days, my mind is unpiloted and unanchored. Everywhere
I see the sifting of competition, and nowhere Christian protection of
weakness; everywhere dogma adored, and nowhere Christ realised. And
again I ask, Which is true--modern society in its class strife and
consequent elimination of its weaker elements, or the brotherhood and
communism taught by the Jewish Carpenter of Nazareth? Who will answer
me? Who will make the dark thing clear?

* * * * *