Nora found that she and her brother and sister would have several of their friends for companions at Roland Graeme's lecture. Kitty Farrell was bent on going, though Nora, of course, suspected that it was much more for the sake of Waldberg's part in it, than of Roland's. Mr. Archer, despite his somewhat cynical indifference, had some curiosity to see how Roland would acquit himself as a lecturer, and had actually proposed that Miss Pomeroy should accompany him. She, moreover, had very willingly assented. She was a girl of some mind and character, who had grown heartily sick of the inane and monotonously luxurious life she lived, and did not feel much interest in the meetings her mother was perpetually attending. She was glad, therefore, of any new sensation that seemed to offer a little unusual excitement. And the more she heard her father's irritated remarks on Roland's "dangerous doctrines," the more her curiosity was aroused to hear these "dangerous doctrines" for herself. And Mr. Wharton—who had been led, by his discussions with Miss Harley, to reconsider the labor question in some of its aspects—wished to hear all that Roland had to say, as a contribution to the material he was collecting for a contemplated magazine article on the character and prospects of the "movement." Mr. Wharton and Mr. Archer had offered their services to escort Miss Pomeroy and Miss Farrell; as young Pomeroy, who did not care for "any such stuff," had some more attractive engagement for that evening. The party stopped at Dr. Blanchard's, en route for the lecture-hall, and took up the two ladies, leaving the busy doctor to look in when he could. It was a glorious moonlight night, the silvery radiance reflected back from the pure, white snow, making the night as clear as the day, while the pure, exhilarating air made it a delight to be out.

"What a perfect night!" exclaimed Mr. Archer. "Really it seems a shame to go to sit in a stuffy hall, instead of enjoying it out of doors."

"Well, we don't think of that, you know, when we go to a party," laughed Kitty, who was walking with Nora and Mr. Archer.

"There are some other folks out on a tramp," said Mr. Archer, as a little procession of men and women, singing a rousing hymn, filed along a street not far off. "There goes the Salvation Army, trying to improve the world in its way, as Graeme is trying in his. But what does it all amount to?"

"To something, I should hope!" exclaimed Nora. "And in any case, it's something to try! Surely you are not so faithless as to progress, Mr. Archer?"

"Well, so far as I can see, it seems very like rolling a stone up hill, just to have it roll down again. Things seem to go on, as a rule, much the same, whatever you do," he answered.

"But what might it be if people were not doing something all the time?" she asked. "Don't you think it would be a good deal worse?"

"Oh, well, if people like to slave away on that principle—" he said, with a shrug and smile which Nora had learned to detest. "You see I'm not fond of slaving. Perhaps because I have enough of it in my office."

"But then, willing service isn't slaving. It's the greatest pleasure."

"So I've heard," he answered, drily. "But then, one must have the will. You see I haven't."

"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Kitty. "You're not half so bad as you pretend to be, Mr. Archer. If you were, you wouldn't be taking us to this lecture."

"I—taking you!" he exclaimed. "I thought it was you who were taking me! Well, anyhow, we've got here. And it looks as if there was to be a fair audience, of men, at any rate. I expect you'll be the only ladies."

This expectation, however, was not realized, as there were a few others, some drawn by curiosity, some by genuine interest. There were evidently, some few wives of mechanics who had come with their husbands, and who looked really interested in the lecture as it proceeded. Some, Nora thought, must be young working-girls. There was a large gathering of men, evidently workingmen, who nearly filled the body of the hall. In the side seats, to which Mr. Archer led his party, were already seated Mr. Alden and Grace, with Mr. Dunlop, and two or three friends of his whom he had brought to hear his young friend's dÉbut as an orator.

At the precise hour appointed, Roland Graeme, and his friend Mr. Burnet, a slender, fair-haired, energetic looking man with spectacles, walked quickly up the platform, and the latter briefly introduced the lecturer. As it was Roland's first attempt of the kind, and as he spoke extemporaneously, from brief notes, he naturally felt somewhat nervous; not, however, so much on his own account, as lest he might not be able to do justice to his subject, and carry the interest of his auditors. Nora watched with sympathetic anxiety the evident effort, in the beginning of his lecture, to keep down his own nervousness, and fix the attention of his hearers on the points which he desired to make, in giving a brief survey of the marvellous achievements of science since the present century began. But soon she saw, with pleasure, that it was no longer an effort; that, as he warmed up to his subject, thought and expression seemed to flow more freely; till, when he reached the second part of his lecture, it seemed to carry him on, like a rapid stream, without conscious exertion. He had lost all thought, it seemed, of himself; and was conscious only of the enthusiasm of his subject. At the end of this first division of the lecture, he sat down for a brief rest to himself and the audience, while Waldberg, who had come in late, played a pretty fantasia, introducing a number of characteristic national airs, which greatly pleased the audience, and helped Roland to a little inspiration for the rest of the lecture.

The second part of the lecture was devoted to pointing out the reality of that great truth of the Brotherhood of Man, which underlies all human history. This principle, he said, was but another name for the inter-dependence, coÖperation, mutual trust, which had been the root of all real human progress—without which human beings must have remained a race of selfish and warring savages, little better than beasts of prey. He showed how it had originated and bound together the community; how it had been the basis of commerce; how it had led up to all the discoveries and inventions which had, in turn, supplied it with the means of wider development; how it had practically transformed the whole globe into one great market—glut or famine in one quarter of it meaning low or high prices in another. The market was not yet as open as would be for the true interests of mankind, but he believed the day was not far distant, when protection-fences and custom-houses, with all their expensive machinery, would be things of the past.

Then he traced the working of the same great principle in the field of labor, in the long line of progress,—from the first rude work of the solitary artisan, making even his own tools, through the gradual evolution of machinery and division of labor, through the immense impulse given to this by the application of steam, and, latterly, of electricity; then through the massing of joint-stock capital for the use of this new power on a far grander scale; and, finally, to those gigantic profit-sharing combinations, or so-called "Trusts," which to-day seriously threaten the public interest, but which are only the abuse, by the few, in favor of monopoly, of the great and true principle of brotherly trust and coÖperation.

For the abuse, he went on to say, there was only one radical remedy, and that was a fuller extension and wider use of the principle of brotherly trust or coÖperation. It must govern all through. It must be extended to the laborer, as well as to the capitalist. The main secret of the success of the latter was his use of this principle. The laborer must learn the lesson, as well as the capitalist. Even at the beginning of the present century, the rich returns awaiting coÖperation had been easily seen. How was it that men, generally, had largely failed to enter into coÖperative labor? Was it not evident that moral as well as material progress was needed? that the mass of men must more and more learn the value and enter into the spirit of Brotherhood, of brotherly trust?

Having, by means of careful simplifying and appropriate illustration, endeavored to make this position clear to the minds of his audience, Roland went on to the practical application of his text.

Their organization, as Knights of Labor, was, he said, founded on this principle of brotherly trust and coÖperation, in order to protect their rights and interests from the encroachments of selfish organizations. He thought they had rights to protect, but their success in protecting them would be mainly dependent on the spirit in which they should defend them. They had a right to insist on the shorter hours of work, which their own welfare, under the increased pressure of working to unresting machinery, imperatively demanded. They had a right, too, he thought, to insist that productive labor should receive a larger share of the wealth it produced. But, to make good their claims, they must act, not in a factious, selfish spirit, but in that of brotherly fairness and generous trust. They must be true to themselves, true to their employers, true also to the great outside body of unorganized labor. If they acted selfishly toward these, they would show themselves unworthy of the benefits of coÖperation. One of their motives in seeking shorter hours should be the greater chances for employment which would thereby open up to the great army of the unemployed. They must cultivate a spirit of brotherly faithfulness to all men, and of regard for each other's interest. They must teach this to their children, for whom they must secure the best education within their power. They must think not only of rights, but of duty, of helping others as well as themselves. With thrift, steadiness, mutual confidence and the franchise, the workingmen of America could be masters of the position. If they would refuse to sell their votes to partisan politicians, their intelligence to liquor-sellers, their children to those who would set them to premature drudgery;—if they would be true to the interests of coÖperative labor generally, true to the grand ideal of human brotherhood and faith in its realization, they need despair of nothing they could reasonably desire. For this life of ours was not ruled by mere chance, or blind force—whatever some may say. It was under the guidance of a Power of which one of their own poets had said

But he would give them the picture of what might yet be, when classes and churches had ceased to waste their strength in war, and men had truly learned to help each other,—in the stirring words of Henry George, words that he could not improve upon:

"It is not the Almighty, but we, who are responsible for the vice and misery that fester amid our civilization. The Creator showers upon us His gifts—more than enough for all. But like swine scrambling for food, we tread them in the mire—tread them in the mire, while we tear and rend each other!

"The fiat has gone forth! With steam and electricity, and the new powers born of progress, forces have entered the world that will either compel us to a higher plane or overwhelm us, as nation after nation, as civilization after civilization, have been overwhelmed before. It is the delusion which precedes destruction, that sees in the popular unrest with which the civilized world is feverishly pulsing, only the passing effect of ephemeral causes. Even now, in old bottles, the new wine begins to ferment, and elemental forces gather for the strife!

"But if, while there is yet time, we turn to Justice and obey Her, if we trust Liberty and follow Her, the changes that now threaten must disappear, the forces that now menace will turn to agencies of elevation. Think of the powers now wasted; of the infinite fields of knowledge yet to be explored; of the possibilities of which the wonderful inventions of this century give us but a hint. With want destroyed, with greed changed to a noble passion, with the fraternity that is born of equality taking the place of jealousy and fear that now array men against each other, with mental power loosed by conditions that give to the humblest comfort and leisure—who shall measure the heights to which our civilization may soar? Words fail the thought! It is the Golden Age of which poets have sung, and high-raised seers have told in metaphor! It is the glorious vision which has always haunted man with gleams of fitful splendor. It is the reign of the Prince of Peace!"

As Roland ended his concluding quotation with all the enthusiasm that it stirred in himself, a burst of applause rose from the audience, which had followed his lecture with riveted attention—only two or three men having gone out during its earlier portion. He had arranged with Waldberg to follow the close of the lecture with another "piano recital," and the young musician immediately broke in with a spirited rendering of the "Marseillaise," followed by the "Wacht am Rhein."

Nora could not help being secretly amused at the choice with which Waldberg, in his desire to make his music cosmopolitan, had followed the peaceful peroration; but of course few of the audience recognized what the airs were, and Roland was far too much absorbed by his interest in his subject, even to notice what his friend was playing. Mr. Archer, evidently, however, was, like herself, amused by the little inappropriateness, as she could see by the slight curl of his moustache.

Roland's good intention of shutting off conventional votes of thanks was, however, baffled by his friend, Mr. Alden, who rose at once to express the thanks of the audience to Mr. Graeme for his clear and forcible lecture. People might and did differ as to the practical solution of the great problems of the day, but there could be no doubt that the spirit of brotherhood advocated by the lecturer was the only one in which they could ever be solved, the only line in which real progress, material, moral or spiritual, could ever be made. He hoped that every one of the audience would carry away with him the inference of the lecturer's plea for the spirit of brotherhood and would try to work it out in the details of daily life.

Mr. Archer listened to Mr. Alden with evident interest, and, with a scarcely perceptible hesitation, was just rising to his feet to second the vote of thanks, when he was forestalled by the slender, pale-faced man with the earnest eyes, whom Nora had observed at the Christmas festival. He, briefly, but in well-chosen words, seconded the vote of thanks, expressing, on behalf of the Knights of Labor, much gratitude to Mr. Graeme for the present lecture, and for his many other services in their behalf. The motion was briefly put by Mr. Burnet, and of course carried with another burst of applause.

As the party in the reserved seats waited for the crowd to pass out, Roland Graeme was warmly congratulated on his forcible address. Mr. Alden shook his hand heartily, and Mr. Archer exclaimed:

"Well, Graeme, I think you'd better take to lecturing, instead of law. You'd make your fortune quicker. But who would have thought that a lecture on 'Modern Miracles' was going to turn out a plea for coÖperation! You ought to throw that lecture into the form of an article for the Forum. Mr. Wharton here will give you a wrinkle."

"Thanks," said Roland, "for your good opinion; but my lecture wasn't meant for such an enlightened public. Mr. Jeffrey is going to lecture here soon, however, on 'Capital and Labor.' That, I have no doubt, will be fit for any audience. I hope it will draw a good one."

Mr. Wharton looked surprised. Mr. Jeffrey was a well-known writer on the labor question, and he had no idea that Roland Graeme could have been in correspondence with him. As a matter of fact, the correspondence had originated through some articles of Roland's in The Brotherhood, which Mr. Jeffrey had seen, and which led to the arrangements for this lecture.

Mr. Dunlop had turned to Miss Blanchard, whom he recognized as having been his vis-À-vis at the dinner-party. He had been much taken with her appearance, and seemed pleased to meet her again; and Nora, on her part, was glad to exchange a few words with the honest old Scot. He asked her how she liked his friend Graeme's "new-fangled notions," and nodded approvingly at her warm commendation of the lecture.

"Ay! ay!" he said, "he's going to be a credit to us yet! I believe he's a sort o' Scotch cousin o' mine. Come, Roland, give me your arm home."

Roland had been exchanging a few words with Grace Alden, who was looking charming, Nora thought; but he turned at once to assist the old man. As he bade Miss Blanchard good-night, she exclaimed—"Thank you so much for showing us that the world isn't built upon selfishness, after all!"

Waldberg managed to take Kitty in charge, and Nora and Miss Pomeroy walked on together with Mr. Archer. Miss Pomeroy had been one of the most attentive listeners to the lecture, which had suggested many new ideas to a mind that was craving some new and strong interest. Miss Pomeroy was decidedly clever—had had every advantage of education that wealth could supply—had been abroad, "everywhere," and could talk French and German, as well as Browning. But she wanted purpose in her life, and was discontented, and a little blasÉe for lack of it. "Self-culture," for no definite end, had palled upon her, as generally happens. But this lecture had set her thinking, and Nora found a ready response to her proposal to fit up the room she wanted to furnish for a cosy meeting-place for working-girls, especially for those of her father's works.

"Indeed, I'll do all I can to help!" she said, emphatically, when Nora had unfolded her plans. "I'm just sick of having nothing useful to do! I don't care for the meetings mother likes. There seems too much talk for all they do. But if I could do something to make any one person a little better or happier, I really should be glad to do it."

"Well," said Nora, "let you and Kitty and any other girls you like to bring, come over to-morrow morning, and we'll talk it over and see what is to be done. Or perhaps we'd better go to the room itself—the day after to-morrow. I'll see Mr. Alden and arrange with him just when we can go and make our plans."

And so it was settled, Mr. Archer declaring that they could call on him for any services they needed in the way of picture-hanging or putting up curtains, these things having been already discussed during the homeward walk.

"Only I'm afraid you're going to be quite too Æsthetic for your constituency," he said, laughing, to Miss Pomeroy, as he listened to her suggestions for the little library they were going to include among the furnishings.

"If you'll only get any sort of piano," he said, "and sing them songs, Miss Blanchard, they'll like that better than anything else!"