No More Learning

The last play they had been to, the
last party, the picture of the year, all in turn he glanced at. She
was delighted. Her training had not been in vain. Her barbarian was
learning to chatter. This flattered her a deal.

'I was never engaged,' she thought, 'to a more interesting creature. '

When he had risen to go, Sherman said: 'I have a friend coming to visit
me in a few days; you will suit each other delightfully. He is very
mediaeval. '

'Do tell me about him; I like everything mediaeval. '

'Oh,' he cried, with a laugh, 'his mediaevalism is not in your line. He
is neither a gay troubadour nor a wicked knight. He is a High Church
curate. '

'Do not tell me anything more about him,' she answered; 'I will try to
be civil to him, but you know I never liked curates. I have been an
agnostic for many years. You, I believe, are orthodox.
'

As Sherman was on his way home he met a fellow-clerk, and stopped him
with: 'Are you an agnostic? '

'No. Why, what is that? '

'Oh, nothing! Good-bye,' he made answer, and hurried on his way.


III

The letter reached the Rev. William Howard at the right moment,
arriving as it did in the midst of a crisis in his fortunes. In the
course of a short life he had lost many parishes. He considered
himself a martyr, but was considered by his enemies a clerical coxcomb.
He had a habit of getting his mind possessed with some strange opinion,
or what seemed so to his parishioners, and of preaching it while the
notion lasted in the most startling way. The sermon on unbaptized
children was an instance. It was not so much that he thought it true as
that it possessed him for a day. It was not so much the thought as his
own relation to it that allured him. Then, too, he loved what appeared
to his parishioners to be the most unusual and dangerous practices. He
put candles on the altar and crosses in unexpected places. He delighted
in the intricacies of High Church costume, and was known to recommend
confession and prayers for the dead.