“I stopped the carriage, got out, and, after a few minutes’ conversation, persuaded two of the public women to get into the brougham with me.  If Jesus was right, then these two unfortunates were my sisters, and the only hope of their purification was in my affection and tenderness.

“I live in one of the loveliest localities of San Francisco.  The house in which I live cost a hundred thousand dollars, and its furnishings, books, and works of art cost as much more.  The house is a mansion.  No, it is a palace, wherein there are many servants.  I never knew what palaces were good for.  I had thought they were to live in.  But now I know.  I took the two women of the street to my palace, and they are going to stay with me.  I hope to fill every room in my palace with such sisters as they.”

The audience had been growing more and more restless and unsettled, and the faces of those that sat on the platform had been betraying greater and greater dismay and consternation.  And at this point Bishop Dickinson arose, and with an expression of disgust on his face, fled from the platform and the hall.  But Bishop Morehouse, oblivious to all, his eyes filled with his vision, continued: 

“Oh, sisters and brothers, in this act of mine I find the solution of all my difficulties.  I didn’t know what broughams were made for, but now I know.  They are made to carry the weak, the sick, and the aged; they are made to show honor to those who have lost the sense even of shame.

“I did not know what palaces were made for, but now I have found a use for them.  The palaces of the Church should be hospitals and nurseries for those who have fallen by the wayside and are perishing.”

He made a long pause, plainly overcome by the thought that was in him, and nervous how best to express it.

“I am not fit, dear brethren, to tell you anything about morality.  I have lived in shame and hypocrisies too long to be able to help others; but my action with those women, sisters of mine, shows me that the better way is easy to find.  To those who believe in Jesus and his gospel there can be no other relation between man and man than the relation of affection.  Love alone is stronger than sin—­stronger than death.  I therefore say to the rich among you that it is their duty to do what I have done and am doing.  Let each one of you who is prosperous take into his house some thief and treat him as his brother, some unfortunate and treat her as his sister, and San Francisco will need no police force and no magistrates; the prisons will be turned into hospitals, and the criminal will disappear with his crime.

“We must give ourselves and not our money alone.  We must do as Christ did; that is the message of the Church today.  We have wandered far from the Master’s teaching.  We are consumed in our own flesh-pots.  We have put mammon in the place of Christ.  I have here a poem that tells the whole story.  I should like to read it to you.  It was written by an erring soul who yet saw clearly.* It must not be mistaken for an attack upon the Catholic Church.  It is an attack upon all churches, upon the pomp and splendor of all churches that have wandered from the Master’s path and hedged themselves in from his lambs.  Here it is: