spoke through the megaphone with a Bowery accent, and gave communications from relatives and friends of the various confederates.  “Jesus is with us”, said Dr. Holmes.  “The spirit of Jesus bids you to study spiritualism.”  And then came the voice of a child:  “Mamma!  Mamma!” “It is little Georgie!” cried Dr. Holmes; and one of the society ladies started, and answered, and presently burst into tears.  A marvelous piece of evidence—­especially when you recall that the story of this mother’s bereavement had been published in all the papers a couple of months before!

And this kind of swindling is going on every night in every city of America.  It goes on wholesale for months every summer at Lily Dale, in New York State, where the spiritualists hold their combination of Chautauqua and Coney Island.  And the same thing is going on in the field of mental healing, and of all other “occult” forces and powers, whether real or imaginary.  It is going on with new spiritual fervors, new moral idealisms, new poetry, new music, new painting, new sculpture.  The faker, the charlatan is everywhere—­using the mental and moral and artistic forces of life as a means of delivering himself from economic servitude.  Everywhere I turn I see it—­credulity being exploited, and men of practical judgment, watching the game and seeing through it, made hard in their attitude of materialism.  How many men I know who sit by in sullen protest while their wives drift from one new quackery to another, wasting their income seeking health and happiness in futile emotionalism!  How many kind and sensitive spirits I know—­both men and women—­who pour their treasures of faith and admiration into the laps of hierophants who began by fooling all mankind and ended by fooling themselves!

In each one of the cults of what I have called the “Church of the Quacks”, there are thousands, perhaps millions of entirely sincere, self-sacrificing people.  They will read this book—­if anyone can persuade them to read it—­with pain and anger; thinking that I am mocking at their faith, and have no appreciation of their devotion.  All that I can say is that I am trying to show them how they are being trapped, how their fine and generous qualities are being used by exploiters of one sort or another; and how this must continue, world without end, until there is order in the material affairs of the race, until justice has been established as the law of man’s dealing with his fellows.

* * * * *

#Book seven#

#The Church of the Social Revolution#

  They have taken the tomb of our Comrade Christ—­
    Infidel hordes that believe not in man;
  Stable and stall for his birth sufficed,
    But his tomb is built on a kingly plan. 
  They have hedged him round with pomp and parade,
    They have buried him deep under steel and stone—­
  But we come leading the great Crusade
    To give our Comrade back to his own.