“Some would fail. But others would succeed. More would follow. It needs only a few to set the example. It would appeal to all generous men and women, to the young. Fighting for God. Fighting with God to save the world. Not to save oneself--not to get one’s own sweet self into heaven. That is the mistake that has been made: Appealing to the self that is in man, instead of to the Christ that is in man. ‘Believe and thou shalt be saved.’ It is an appeal to man’s greed, to his self-interest. It is heroes God wants, not mercenaries. Never mind yourself. Forget the wages. Help God to save the world. This little land of England, this poor, sad, grimy town of Millsborough, where each man hates his neighbour and the children play with dirt. Help God to make it clean and sweet. Help God to wipe away the tears of the world. Help God to save all men. “We talk about the Spirits of Good and Evil, as if Evil were of its own nature subordinate to the Good--as if God’s victory were certain; a mere matter of time. How do we know? Evil was the first-born. All things that do not fight against it revert to it. How do we know it will not triumph in the end. God is not winning. God is being driven back. Man will not help. Once His followers were willing to suffer--to die for Him. Today we are afraid of a little ridicule--of a few privations. We think it can be done by preaching--by the giving of alms. There is but one way to fight for God: the way of Christ. Let the young man deny himself, take up his cross.” There had followed a silence. How long it lasted neither could have told. The door opened and Eleanor entered. She was full of her meeting. The committee had settled to send two hundred children for a fortnight to the seaside. She had let Anthony in for a hundred guineas. She laughed. Betty explained that they might not be meeting again for some time. She was off to Russia. Eleanor was curious and Betty explained her plans. Eleanor was seated on the arm of Anthony’s chair. She had noticed he was not smoking, and had lighted his cigar for him. “It was poor mother’s sorrow,” she said. “‘I have never done anything,’ she confided to me once towards the end. I have given away a little money, but it was never mine to give. It never cost me anything. I want to give myself. It is the only gift that heals.” Eleanor jumped down from her perch, and taking Betty’s face in her hands kissed her. “How fine of you,” she said. “I rather envy you.” CHAPTER XVII