the Doctor indignantly. "If that man were living he would not be always
talking about issues that have no meaning at this day. He would be giving
himself to the problems that trouble us now. This thing," he rapped the
monument with his stick until it gave forth a dull, hollow sound, "this
thing is not a memorial to the life and character of my friend. It
memorializes the dead issue to which he gave himself at one passing
moment of his life, and which, had he lived, he would have forgotten, as
the changing times brought new issues to be met as he met this old one.
He was too great, too brave, to ever stand still and let the world go by.
He was always on the firing line. This thing--" he rapped the hollow iron
shaft again contemptuously, and the hollow sound seemed to add emphasis
to his words--"this is a dead monument to a dead issue. Instead of
speaking of his life, it cries aloud in hideous emphasis that he is
dead."

They stood silently for a moment then Dan said, quietly: "After all,
Doctor, they meant well."

"And that," retorted the old man grimly, "is what we doctors say when we
see our mistakes go by in the hearse."

They went on up the street until they reached the church. Here Dan
stopped again. He read the inscription cut large in the stone over the
door, "The Strong Memorial Church." Again Dan turned to his friend
inquiringly.

"Judge Strong, the old Judge," explained the Doctor. "That's his picture
in the big stained-glass window there."

In all his intentions Nathaniel Jordan was one of the best of men.