The training of Silas

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CHAPTER PAGE

I A Nefarious Scheme Unearthed ... 9

II The Pastor Begins to “Pull Wires” . 21

CHAPTER I Father Sinclair Unearths a Nefarious Scheme

rriHE West End of Laurenboro bad been deserted all summer. Ever since the first days of July, what with barred doors, closed blinds, awnings raised, and noiseless streets, the aristocratic section of the great metropohs looked like a city of the dead. The urban wealth and fashion had transferred its quarters for the time being either to the Maine coast, with its invigorating salt breezes, or to the cool and inviting regions of the Lower St. Lawrence. Those who were particularly in search of health and diversion had gone to the mountain haunts of the Adirondacks, or found change amid transatlantic scenery and tourist life in the Scotch Highlands or the Continental Alps. Altogether the West End had been vacated, and except for the appearance, here and there, of some solitary gardener aimlessly wandering about the premises, and the undisturbed 9 warbling of the song-birds in the maples, there was absolutely no sign of life.

No such changes had taken place in the Gottingen quarter, where the poor and the working classes lived. There the warm summer months were spent, as usual, amid the ceaseless hum of factory life. Men and women bustled and toiled from dawn to night, in shop and workroom, in courtyard and street, for the bread they were to eat. For them there was no season of sight-seeing; no ocean breeze or bracing mountain air, which God had made so liberally ; and if the stirring summer wind, that gently fans the cheek of rich and poor alike, found its way into the Gottingen quarter, it had already lost half its freshness and soothing power. For all that, the want of bodily comforts did not destroy the peace of mind in the poor people who dwelt here. They were Catholics for the most part, who, faithful to the teachings of the Church, did not look on poverty as an evil, but rather as a means to help them to procure an eternal reward in heaven. The Gottingen poor were satisfied with their condition.

To will what God doth will, that is the only science

That gives us rest,

was a lesson they had long since learned; and contentment, if not gratitude for their lot, reigned among those who toiled for their daily sustenance.

Father Sinclair spent much of his time among them. During the summer months, when he took the annual parish census, he made it a point to welcome the new arrivals whom the immigration season usually brought in considerable numbers. It was then also that he made his plans for their betterment, through the organized means of parish unions among the well-to-do people in the neighborhood, who were practically out of his reach during the vacation season, but on whom he depended during the winter months for practical assistance. He himself rarely took a midsummer holiday. Not that the pastor of St. Paul’s was averse to legitimate recreation. On the contrary, he often urged those of his flock who, whilst they had the means and leisure to go out of town, hesitated to abandon certain works which they had undertaken at his request, to spend some weeks away from the stifling surroundings of Laurenboro, and to seek the wholesome atmosphere of country or seashore life. His own interests, he more than once asserted, did not permit him to leave his post, unless it were for a short trip over the Great Lakes and down the river to the Gulf. And that luxury he had allowed himself but once in the ten years of his residence in the metropolis. When his people argued the matter with him, he readily acknowledged the

principle of necessary recreation even for the shep- 11 herd of souls, after the arduous work of a twelvemonth’s ministry in a large city; indeed, he never denied that a few weeks of rest in some quiet nook on the seacoast would have been a welcome change to him. But the trouble was he could not find the time. The clergy of the Religious Orders, who might have taken his place at other seasons of the year, were busy themselves during the summer months, giving retreats and preparing for mission or college work to begin in the autumn. At other times of the year, the interests of his people did not permit him to leave his flock.

Father Sinclair’s habit therefore was to stay at home; but what recreation and useful information the want of travel and actual observation deprived him of, he amply made up for by useful reading.* His taste — one might say his passion — in this direction was apparent to any casual visitor at the glebe-house. Books filled every nook and comer of the modest dwelling, including bedroom and hall. History, science, philosophy, poetry — treasures of thought and truth — carefully selected, were at his beck and call. He loved to hide himself away with these silent companions, in the quiet hours of the night, to commune with the ever-living thoughts of vanished minds, to stray into new fields of useful knowledge, to trace the tangled paths of legitimate speculation, to lose himself in the reveries of scientific 12 dreamland. With Mrs. Browning, he beheved that We get no good

By being ungenerous, even in a book.

And calculating profits — so much help By so much reading. It is rather when We gloriously forget ourselves, and plunge Soul-forward, headlong, into a book’s profound, Impassioned for its beauty, and salt of truth —

’Tis then we get the right good from a book.

One evening in the first week in August, he was seated in his study, carefully perusing a document which had reached him in the morning’s mail. It was the semi-annual Report of the Elzevir Library, a pamphlet skilfully tabulated and printed, so that a reader could take in at a glance the work of that institution during the preceding six months.

Owing to the initiative of the Directors, the “Elzevir” had been a prominent name for years in Laurenboro. Founded by non-sectarian enterprise, it had remained a non-sectarian institution. Hence it did its best to please everybody. Readers of books in the city and suburbs all knew the way to the Elzevir on Fessenden Avenue; so that the pastor of St. Paul’s was not surprised to learn, when he laid down the Report, that the circulation had gone into the thousands and was continually on the increase.

The needless emphasis laid upon the “non-sectarian ” character of the Library by its promoters

had often made Father Sinclair suspect that all was 13 not right there. So far as he knew, Catholics had no voice in the management of the institution. The Board of Directors was made up of members of different religious denominations; and, as he had been informed, there was at least one professing atheist among them. He was aware, too, that many books antagonistic to truth were to be found on the shelves of the Elzevir, although the tabulated Report before him was silent regarding this phase of the circulation, and in fact no hint whatever was given as to the number of religious books called for by readers. A statement throwing light in this direction would have interested Father Sinclair very much. One paragraph in the Report, however, caught his eye. It mentioned the fact of a recent legacy amounting to twenty-five thousand dollars which had been left to the institution. The passage that struck Father Sinclair read as follows :

“ The Directors are aware that while they desire to keep the Elzevir strictly non-sectarian, the presence of many religious denominations in Laurenboro renders it necessary to provide literature to suit the peculiar views of all, if their patronage is to be retained. Resolved therefore, that the legacy of twenty-five thousand dollars recently bequeathed to the Elzevir, be expended in augmenting the supply of denominational literature, and in facilitating the circulation thereof. ’ ’

Here was food for reflection; and the pastor reflected deeply. Laurenboro, a city more than

half Catholic, without a Catholic library, was about 14 to have a carload of denominational literature flung broadcast among its people. What sort would it be? How much of its anti-Catholic poison would be likely to find its way into Catholic homes? — for “Denominational Literature” unquestionably meant Protestant literature, with its prejudices, its misstatements, its bitterness against the Catholic Church. No one who had any knowledge of current works dealing with the subject of religion could have a doubt that by far the larger number of books which the Elzevir directors were likely to place on their shelves would be antagonistic to the faith of Father Sinclair’s people. The pastor left his chair and paced the floor.

A great idea had suddenly flashed on his mind. As he paced slowly up and down the room, a scheme, shadowy, at first, and indistinct in its outlines, began gradually to unfold itself and take on a definite shape. Before he came to a halt he had determined on a plan of action. The case was clearly urgent; something must be done at once.

A few minutes later he turned down the light and went out on the balcony, a quiet, retired nook on the south side of the rectory overlooking the Brono. The house had once been the centre of an independent suburb, which in the course of time had coalesced with, and been incorporated into, the neighboring dty; while its subsequent development 15 in other directions had left the church and glebe-house on the outskirts of the parish. From the pastor’s point of view there was some compensation for this, however, in that he was here within easy reach of the factory quarters which constituted the heaviest part of his parochial responsibilities. The night was exceedingly beautiful; there was not a cloud in the sky. From her coign of vantage in the heavens the moon was flooding the earth with light, and its rays, glinting on the surface of the river, made it shine hke burnished silver in the distance. The only sounds to be heard were the muffled beat of a steamer’s paddles, an occasional plash of oars, and the final strains of a band playing in the Eagle Rotunda, nearly a mile away. Directly opposite could be seen the dark outlines and myriad lights of a large steamer moving swiftly downstream.

For a few minutes the pastor remained motionless, drinking in the calm beauty of the scene; and then gradually his thoughts drifted back again into their former channel.

“Why not.^” he continued to muse. “Why should not Laurenboro, with its fifty thousand Catholics, have its own Catholic Library.'^ In this city our foundlings and orphans are housed and cared for; our poor are clothed and fed; the aged and incurable are soothed in their last days; here every form of physical infirmity is tenderly cared 16 for by Catholic charity. Is it not possible to be equally generous in allaying the infirmities of the mind.^ Thousands of dollars are spent every year by us in the care of diseased human bodies. Outside the ministry of the priesthood and the work of our two colleges and convents, what is Catholic charity in Laurenboro doing for souls ? In this city we have no public sources of knowledge but the daily press and the Elzevir and Humboldt libraries. For years, hundreds of my flock have had to depend on these doubtful sources for their mind-food. And is not intellectual poverty and corruption a far greater evil than any that can afflict the body.^ What a change for the better would take place in the mental condition of our people, if healthy reading were provided for them. The result would be sound thinking, and its inevitable sequel, sound living.” It was thus that the pastor mused.

Father Sinclair was a man of many resources; but he was the first to admit that, no matter how cogent the motives, the work of starting a new library under Catholic patronage in a city where two large book centres for the accommodation of the general public existed already, had many thorny sides to it. St. Paul’s parish was, moreover, one of the smallest in Laurenboro. It embraced, as already stated, the new factory sites and tenements of the Gottingen district. This was on one side; on 17 the other, where the lowlands led up to Ashburne Avenue, there lived a few of the wealthier famili es; there was hardly any middle class. The people wt e, as a rule, and according to their means, generous in the support of the parish. In the beginning, however, there had been some who showed themselves inclined to look askance at the zeal of the young pastor, and rather discouraged one or two of his projects for the betterment of the people, taking for granted that an excess of enthusiasm is best met by an excess of reserve. Perhaps their attitude found its justification in some unpromising financial ventures of one of the former pastors of the parish; but on this he did not reflect. He only recalled the struggle into which he found himself forced when he began the parochial school in Gottingen; also the almost cynical indifference which he encountered fiom the professional men of his district when he had undertaken to make some move toward ma ntaining a distinctly Catholic social life among the students — strangers in Laurenboro — ^who attenced the Royalview University; there had likewise been a strong and unrelenting opposition to his personally undertaking the purchase of a section of the Helerand estate to serve as a home for incurables. But in these enterprises — to mention no others of a similar character — he had managed to overcome opposition and indifference by that quiet persistence which 18 secures success in the work undertaken; and the '^^ry first to congratulate him on the evidence of E^^tual results were those who had in the beginning bitterly opposed him.

These somewhat discouraging memories were still vivid before him, and Father Sinclair was forced to calculate in advance with the uprising of difficulties, much harder for the average sensitive man to overcome than physical hardship or mental labor in a good cause. On the other hand, he remembered the devotion with which the bulk of his people had stood by him, freely opening their purses when he had shown to them the feasibility of a work, or when their own eyes had made it evident to them. On the whole the experiences of the last ten years rather encouraged him to try to solve the problem. He went back to his study and sat down to work out the details.

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CHAPTER II The Pastor Begins to “Pull Wires”

ri^HE summer months passed rapidly away. When October came, it brought with it a return of activity in the West End. Draymen laden with trunks; carpet-beaters at work; gardeners cropping the great undulating lawns and the summer’s growth of shrubbery; maids rubbing a three months* dust from the steps and windows, — all bespoke an awakening in the fashionable part of Laurenboro. Soon the heavy carriages, rolling up to the mansions on Ashburne Avenue, told the passers-by that the elite had returned to resume their routine life of pleasure for the winter.

It was a raw and dreary afternoon, enlivened by a brisk gale from the southeast. The trees along the great wide avenue were shedding their sere leaves in myriads, and carpeting the gray asphalt. Workmen were busy putting up the winter windows in the Melgrove mansion, covering the flower-beds, tying down the ivy, and preparing for the long white season, which, coming as it did rather early, threatened to be more severe than usual.

In a small rear parlor sat Mrs. Melgrove and two 21 ladies, discussing the summer’s outing. The hostess had just returned from Europe the week before and was giving her impressions. She was a tall finely-proportioned woman of middle-age, with a genial manner and the evidences of culture in language and movement. She had been blessed with a goodly share of the world’s wealth. During the past twenty years, her leisure moments, spared from her family, a husband and a little daughter, had been devoted to helping the poor, visiting the city hospitals and the sick in their homes. It was nothing to surprise anyone that the name of Mrs. Horace Melgrove should stand at the head of, and be identified with, several of the pious associations attached to St. Paul’s Church.

Her two lady visitors were likewise well known as associates with her in various schemes for the betterment of the poor. The elder. Miss Rayford, was a quiet little woman of a distinctly literary turn of mind. She had, indeed, for years taken very great interest in works of outdoor charity, but nevertheless she still found time to write attractive stories and essays of a thoughtful character that made her known in many homes, not only of her own city, but abroad.

The other person in conference with Mrs. Melgrove was Mary Garvey, a lady somewhat vivacious, impressionable, open to a fault, and very energetic 22

To “ Pall Wires ”

in carrying out anything she had once undertaken. She never seemed to feel the slightest hesitation in telling others her opinion of them; but her manner and tone robbed her outspoken way of the offensive element so commonly associated with criticism. This alone would explain how she managed to keep herself out of trouble. But there were other reasons. The fact is. Miss Garvey was liked by everybody in St. Paul’s parish; for no one doubted that her plainspeaking proceeded from an honest heart. Her parents, who had been in moderately good circumstances, died when she was but a httle child. She had fallen heir to a modest competency, which allowed her ample leisure to devote herself to good works, a privilege she did not fail to use. For some years, Mrs. Melgrove, Miss Rayford, and Miss Garvey had been, as already intimated, the recognized leaders in every charitable movement introduced among Father Sinclair’s people. Today they were to meet their pastor at Mrs. Melgrove’s house to talk over some enterprise which he evidently had in view.

“I wonder what it can be,” said the hostess, looking at the note from the priest which she held in her hand, but the brief contents of which furnished no adequate clue as to the object of the meeting. “No doubt, Father Sinclair has some new scheme for the young people, but it is rather early to get us 23 to work, with all the domestic and social demands of the return season upon us. Someone told me in Paris that the scheme for establishing parish beds in the Contagious Hospital had failed.”

“Of course, it failed,” returned Miss Garvey. “What else could you expect The Newell family left town the very day our Hospital Committee was to meet; and naturally the outsiders stepped in and we lacked the requisite number of votes, — so there you are.”

“There is something new brewing, at all events,” said the hostess, smiling.

“Undoubtedly,” replied Miss Garvey. “I was out yesterday when Father Sinclair called, and I got his note only an hour ago. But from a few words he dropped in my hearing the other day, I infer that he plans some scheme for purchasing books. Did you know that the Elze\’ir people were going to extend their library along Fessenden Avenue?”

“I saw something to that effect in the Times yesterday — ^you may be sure they will succeed in getting the necessary appropriation; they can control public patronage,” answered Mrs. Melgrove.

It was close on three o’clock when the door-bell rang. A moment later Father Sinclair was ushered into the small parlor where the ladies were waiting.

He was a tall, well-built man, though seemingly not strong, about forty years of age, or a little more, 24

To “ Pofl Wires with an expression of face that indicated at once energy and delicacy. People recognized him as one of the prominent citizens of Laurenboro; and whilst one might have observed a certain reserve between the priest and the official arbiters of the town with whom he was thrown in contact, there was no lack of courtesy on either side when they met in the public thoroughfares.

Soon after his ordination, seventeen years before. Father Sinclair had been appointed parish priest in a small village on the coast, where his duties were light, and where he had ample time for self -improve* ment. There he had enjoyed a season of comparative leisure and solitude, which had become for him an unconscious preparation for more difficult tasks in the future. He had found time for study, even for writing; and his articles in the different magazines, together with a published volume on the attitude of the Church towards Evolution, had given him a reputation for studious habits among his brother priests. It was not many years before his Ordinary felt that he might safely entrust the more important interests of a city parish to the zeal and prudence of the young priest; accordingly, upon the first vacancy in Laurenboro, he was notified that he was to be transferred thither.

The proposed change was a sore trial to him. His more intimate friends were well aware that it 25 would cost him no little sacrifice to put away his books, or, at least, to give up the solitude and leisure which made them especially valuable to him. He also loved his little flock and regretted to part with them, whatever else might be in store for him. By nature sensitive, retiring, a lover of the good and beautiful in art, he dreaded the responsibilities of the ministry, together with the noise and bustle, of a large city. Hence, when the formal offer of the pastorship of St. Paul’s came to him, he requested his superiors to let him retain his cure in Rockdale, where he was contented and thought himself useful to a degree in proportion with his talents. But the Archbishop knew the pastor better than the pastor knew himself, and insisted that he comply with his wishes. And Father Sinclair, known to but few people outside his immediate circle, was promptly installed in the vacant parish, much to the surprise of older candidates and their friends.

Ten years had elapsed since then, and during the decade the pastor of St. Paul’s had distinguished himself as an organizer who could sustain and carry to completion any work he had seen fit to undertake.

“You are more punctual than I, ladies. I hope I have not kept you waiting, although even that can scarcely have been a hardship in Mrs. Melgrove’s cosy parlor this bleak afternoon,” said Father Sinclair, genially, as he took his seat at the vacant 26

To “ Poll Wires "

side of the table. “You are curious to know, doubtless,” he continued, “why I have asked you to meet so early in the season. It is to discuss a plan which seems to me feasible enough, if we get the proper support from our own people. If we succeed in carrying it through, it will do untold good in this city, chiefly among our children and young people.”

He drew a notebook from an inner pocket and took out a small sheet of paper on which he had jotted down some items for direction.

“You may have seen,” he went on to say, “that the Elzevir — ”

Miss Garvey gave a nod to the other ladies, as much as to say, “ I told you it was a book scheme.”

“ — ^has been making bids during the summer to secure a larger patronage. There has been quite recently a bequest of twenty-five thousand dollars, which is intended, I am reliably informed, to extend the circulation of reading matter that trenches directly upon religious ground. At the same time, efforts are being made to get our children to patronize the library. I had a visit from two of the directors a few days ago. Their plan is to establish a Children’s Department, and to augment their stores of denominational literature. In order to do that, they are making arrangements to get some of our own

wealthy people interested.”

‘‘ They’ll get Mr. Maglundy, sure, if they go after him,” softly interjected Miss Garvey.

“Now, you know, ladies, as well as I do,” continued the pastor, marking the interruption by a pleasant nod of his head, “what a misfortune such an addition would be in a city like ours. There is to be no discrimination in the choice of books as far as religion is concerned. Everything is to be free and unsectarian. This was one of the provisions in the will of the benefactor; indeed, the directors who came to see me insisted on this point, as though it were a likely inducement to gain my approbation to the scheme of what they consider a public service of equal rights. Now non-sectarianism means non- Catholic; it means that no preference is to be shown to any religion; it means indifferentism; it assumes the absurd tenet that God could be as well pleased with one religion as with another. It means that two men may propagate contradictory doctrines, and yet both be right. Now this is false; this is not even common sense. A denominational library here in Laurenboro including all sorts of pleas for and against religion would be a danger for our noneducated Catholics, because it would be unfair to their own creed, and we must do our best to keep it from doing them harm.

“Here, ladies, is a question for you to answer.” Father Sinclair consulted his notes. “ St. Paul’s is a 28

To “ Pan Wires "

small parish, but we have, in this large city, over fifty thousand Catholics, with many wealthy families among them. Would it not be possible, by doing a httle energetic work, to begin a library of our own — on a small scale at first — ^to meet this great want in our city.^ The collection of good books would not be so very difficult a matter; for we need not doubt that as soon as our people see the benefit which accrues to the Catholic cause from such an enterprise, they will aid it. I have no doubt that in time we shall find some generous benefactor to whom the matter appeals equally strongly, and it will not be many years before we shall have a Catholic library such as we may be proud of.”

‘‘Pardon me. Father,” intermpted Mrs. Melgrove, smiling, “if I seem to discourage your project. I fear it will be hard to awaken the enthusiasm among our people to sustain the beginnings of such an enterprise. I need hardly say that, viewed from a personal standpoint and considering our needs, the scheme deserves our whole-souled approval. But it means so much. Am I wrong, for example, in thinking that it means that we should have to get a central site, a place in the city accessible to the Catholics from all parts ? If we could open a library here in our own neighborhood, there might be only a little or at least less diflSculty; but then who would come to it from town ? Who would be willing to aid us 29 outside our own small parish of St. Paul’s ? Apart from the cost of maintaining a building or rooms in a convenient locality at a probably high rent, not to speak of purchase, how should we get a sufficient stock of really good books to satisfy those readers who are now drawn to the Elzevir and Humboldt libraries, because they find there almost any book they wish to call for ? You would have to engage a number of salaried librarians and secretaries, — which means constant and considerable expense. I speak with some assurance on the subject, because I have been interested in, and once tried, a similar scheme, years ago in the Provinces. We started under the most favorable auspices, with a building excellently located. But eventually we found the expenses for rent, salaries, the renewal and purchase of books, and other unforeseen items, such a drain on our resources that we were obliged to give up the matter in order to ward off serious complications.”

“If you will allow me,” said the priest, turning over his notes, “I have already given thought to what seemed to me the most likely and reasonable objections. Let me answer those that you have just made, Mrs. Melgrove.”

While he was speaking, a maid came softly into the room and set a match to the spirit lamp; in a few minutes the samovar was steaming.

To “ Pall Wires "

“In the first place, as to the site,’’ continued Father Sinclair, “there is our Young Men’s Club which is sufficiently central; the electric cars i*un all around it to every part of the city. On the second floor they have a very large room all wainscoted and tiled and heated by steam, which has been used as a general meeting-place in the evenings. The committee in charge of the club have told me that we may fit up this hall as a library in a way which need not divert it from its present use. They are perfectly content that we should have the place for an indefinite period without cost.”

“ There might be some opposition to putting ourselves under obligation to any local parish organization for the purpose of supplying reading matter for the others,” urged Mrs. Melgrove.

“Such an objection would be entirely unreasonable,” replied Father Sinclair. “ I do not think that we can please everybody; and surely that should not prevent us from working.”