I can remember when in youth I lost my place as teacher at a boarding-school, mainly because I had given lessons in sparring to some of the older boys.
It is impossible to think of my neighbors except as men who would do for me any act of kindness, and whom I respect with my whole heart.
No doubt they wish their Church to inherit the earth, and in their secret souls expect it: what branch of the reverend clergy does not?
Nor have I been able to induce them to cast me out into outer darkness, as one of the wicked, though I have several times called their attention to that extreme necessity.
On the contrary, their theory of salvation appears very elastic; they seem to regard all well-meaning persons as constructively or potentially within the pale of redemption; and my dear lamented neighbor — he of the billiard-balls — was wont to assure me that he did not worry himself about me at all. And yet it sometimes comes across the mind, after a chat with one of them, how our whole mental attitudes are so utterly remote, the one from the other, that it almost seems a wonder that we should meet on the same planet, to say nothing of the same street.
What two beings can be further apart, one