"I never dreamed such things took place in New York."

"Yes, and those homeless children are the saddest tragedy. We haven't
orphanages for them. When a house burns down that has a coal shute
or an opening in it where a child can crawl, the firemen thrust
their hooks in and pull out a bundle of charred rags and flesh--one
of these homeless waifs. No father or mother that ever bent over
a cradle, looked into a baby's face and felt its warm breath can
realise that horror and not go mad. We don't realise it. We ignore
it. We have four hundred churches. We open them a few hours every
week. We have nine thousand saloons opened all day, most of the
night, and Sunday too. We haven't orphanages, but we have these
nine thousand factories where orphans are made. When our country
friends come to see us we take them to see the saloons! Our shame
is our glory. You have to-day seen some of the fruits."

"And yet you have faith?"

"Yes; I have eyes that see the invisible. In all this crash of brute
forces I see beauty in ugliness, innocence in filth. Here one is
put to the test. Here the great powers of Nature have gathered for
their last assault and have challenged man's soul to answer for
its life. Dark spiritual forces shriek their battle-cries over the
din of matter. The swiftness of progress, crushing and enriching,
the mad greed for gold, the worship of success--a success that sneers
at duty, honour, love and patriotism--the filth and frivolity of our
upper strata, the growth of hate and envy below, the restlessness
of the masses, the waning of faith, the growth of despair, the
triumph of brute force, the reign of the liar and huckster--all