The rector smiled again.

“I am sure you could pay me no higher compliment,” he answered.

For an instant Eldon Parr, as he stared at the clergyman, tightened his lips,—­lips that seemed peculiarly formed for compression.  Then they relaxed into what resembled a smile.  If it were one, the other returned it.

“Seriously,” Mr. Parr declared, “it does me good in these days to hear, from a young man, such sound doctrine as you preach.  I am not one of those who believe in making concessions to agnostics and atheists.  You were entirely right, in my opinion, when you said that we who belong to the Church—­and of course you meant all orthodox Christians—­should stand by our faith as delivered by the saints.  Of course,” he added, smiling, “I should not insist upon the sublapsarian view of election which I was taught in the Presbyterian Church as a boy.”

Hodder laughed, but did not interrupt.

“On the other hand,” Mr. Parr continued, “I have little patience with clergymen who would make religion attractive.  What does it amount to —­luring people into the churches on one pretext or another, sugar-coating the pill?  Salvation is a more serious matter.  Let the churches stick to their own.  We have at St. John’s a God-fearing, conservative congregation, which does not believe in taking liberties with sound and established doctrine.  And I may confess to you, Mr. Hodder, that we were naturally not a little anxious about Dr. Gilman’s successor, that we should not get, in spite of every precaution, a man tinged with the new and dangerous ideas so prevalent, I regret to say, among the clergy.  I need scarcely add that our anxieties have been set at rest.”

“That,” said Hodder, “must be taken as a compliment to the dean of the theological seminary from which I graduated.”

The financier stared again.  But he decided that Mr. Hodder had not meant to imply that he, Mr. Parr, was attempting to supersede the dean.  The answer had been modest.

“I take it for granted that you and I and all sensible men are happily. agreed that the Church should remain where she is.  Let the people come to her.  She should be, if I may so express it, the sheet anchor of society, our bulwark against socialism, in spite of socialists who call themselves ministers of God.  The Church has lost ground—­why?  Because she has given ground.  The sanctity of private property is being menaced, demagogues are crying out from the house-tops and inciting people against the men who have made this country what it is, who have risked their fortunes and their careers for the present prosperity.  We have no longer any right, it seems, to employ whom we will in our factories and our railroads; we are not allowed to regulate our rates, although the risks were all ours.  Even the women are meddling,—­they are not satisfied to stay in the homes, where they belong.  You agree with me?”

“As to the women,” said the rector, “I have to acknowledge that I have never had any experience with the militant type of which you speak.”