Do we care to-day whether Charlemagne murdered his enemies with a sword or an axe; do we ask if King Arthur used painless assassination or burned his foes at the stake?
Who cares to know that Caesar was a rake, and that William the Conqueror was a robber?
They did their work and did it well, and are snugly sitting on their monuments where no moralist can reach them.

So those searching for true romance to-day, who regard the decalogue as mere persiflage, and the moral code as a thing of archaic interest, will get their day's work done and strut into posterity in bronze and marble.

They will cheat and rob and oppress and grind the faces off the poor, and do their work and follow their visions, and live the romance in their hearts.

To-morrow we will take their work, disinfect it, and dedicate it to God's uses." There was more of it--four thousand words more, to be exact, and when General Ward went home that night he prayed his Unitarian God to forgive John Barclay for his blasphemy.

And for years the general shuddered when his memory brought back the picture of the little man, with his hard tanned face, his glaring green eyes, his brazen voice trumpeting the doctrine of materialism to the people.
"John," said the general, the next day, as he sat in the mill, going over the plans of the college buildings with Barclay, who was chairman of the board of directors, "John, why are you so crass, so gross a materialist?
You have enough money--why don't you stop getting it and do something with it worth while ?" "Because, General, I'm not making money--that's only an incident of my day's work.