great showman would have him at any cost for his museum or menagerie.
Men are cowards, sir, and are driven by fear as the sovereign motive.
Men are idolaters, and want something to look at and kiss and hug, or
throw themselves down before; they always did, they always will; and if
you don't make it of wood, you must make it of words, which are just
as much used for idols as promissory notes are used for values. The
ministers have a hard time of it without bell and book and holy water;
they are dismounted men in armor since Luther cut their saddle-girths,
and you can see they are quietly taking off one piece of iron after
another until some of the best of 'em are fighting the devil (not the
zoological Devil with the big D) with the sword of the Spirit, and
precious little else in the way of weapons of offence or defence. But
we couldn't get on without the spiritual brotherhood, whatever became of
our special creeds. There is a genius for religion, just as there is for
painting or sculpture. It is half-sister to the genius for music, and
has some of the features which remind us of earthly love. But it lifts
us all by its mere presence. To see a good man and hear his voice once
a week would be reason enough for building churches and pulpits. The
Master stopped all at once, and after about half a minute laughed his
pleasant laugh.

What is it?--I asked him.

I was thinking of the great coach and team that is carrying us fast
enough, I don't know but too fast, somewhere or other. The D. D.'s used
to be the leaders, but now they are the wheel-horses. It's pretty hard
to tell how much they pull, but we know they can hold back like the---

--When we're going down hill,--I said, as neatly as if I had been a
High-Church curate trained to snap at the last word of the response, so
that you couldn't wedge in the tail of a comma between the end of the
congregation's closing syllable and the beginning of the next petition.
They do it well, but it always spoils my devotion. To save my life, I
can't help watching them, as I watch to see a duck dive at the flash of
a gun, and that is not what I go to church for. It is a juggler's trick,
and there is no more religion in it than in catching a ball on the fly.

I was looking at our Scheherezade the other day, and thinking what a
pity it was that she had never had fair play in the world. I wish I knew
more of her history. There is one way of learning it,--making love to
her. I wonder wh