y one of his friends
met him in the rain, caressing a big dog which was jumping upon him and
covering him horribly with mud. On being asked why he permitted the
animal thus to dirty his clothes, Towianski replied: 'This dog, whom I
am now meeting for the first time, has shown a great fellow-feeling for
me, and a great joy in my recognition and acceptance of his greetings.
Were I to drive him off, I should wound his feelings and do him a moral
injury. It would be an offense not only to him, but to all the spirits
of the other world who are on the same level with him. The damage
which he does to my coat is as nothing in comparison with the wrong
which I should inflict upon him, in case I were to remain indifferent
to the manifestations of his friendship. We ought,' he added, 'both to
lighten the condition of animals, whenever we can, and at the same time
to facilitate in ourselves that union of the world of all spirits,
which the sacrifice of Christ has made possible.'" Andre Towianski,
Traduction de l'Italien, Turin, 1897 (privately printed). I owe my
knowledge of this book and of Towianski to my friend Professor W.
Lutoslawski, author of "Plato's Logic."

Here, for instance, is an example of Christian non-resistance from
Richard Weaver's autobiography. Weaver was a collier, a
semi-professional pugilist in his younger days, who became a much
beloved evangelist. Fighting, after drinking, seems to have been the
sin to which he originally felt his flesh most perversely inclined.
After his first conversion he had a backsliding, which consisted in
pounding a man who had insulted a girl. Feeling that, having once
fallen, he might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, he got
drunk and went and broke the jaw of another man who had lately
challenged him to fight and taunted him with cowardice for refusing as
a Christian man;--I mention these incidents to show how genuine a
change of heart is implied in the later conduct which he describes as
follows:--

"I went down the drift and found the boy crying because a
fellow-workman was trying to take the wagon from him by force. I said
to him:--

"'Tom, you mustn't take that wagon.'

"He swore at me, and called me a Methodist devil. I told him that God
did not tell me to let him rob me. He cursed again, and said he would
push the wagon over me.

"'Well,' I said, 'let us see whether the devil and thee are stronger
than the Lord and me.'

"And the Lord and