wields and the supreme enemy, Death. There is a strange fascination in
fighting Death, step by step, and this is of course felt to the full
where one fights for life as life, and not for a life one loves. When the
patient is beloved, the struggle is touched with agony, but where one
fights with Death over the body of a stranger, there is a weird
enchantment in the contest without personal pain, and as one forces back
the hated foe there is a curious triumph in the feeling which marks the
death-grip yielding up its prey, as one snatches back to earth the life
which had well-nigh perished.

Meanwhile, the promise to Mr. Scott was not forgotten, and I penned the
essay on "The Deity of Jesus of Nazareth" which stands first in the
collection of essays published later under the title, "My Path to
Atheism". The only condition annexed to my sending it to Mr. Scott was
the perfectly fair one that if published it should appear without my
name. Mr. Scott was well pleased with the essay, and before long it was
printed as one of the "Scott Series", to my great delight.

But unfortunately a copy sent to a relative of Mr. Besant's brought about
a storm. That gentlemen did not disagree with it--indeed he admitted that
all educated persons must hold the views put forward--but what would
Society say? What would "the county families" think if one of the
clerical party was known to be a heretic. This dreadful little paper bore
the inscription "By the wife of a beneficed clergyman"; what would happen
if the "wife of the beneficed clergyman" were identified with Mrs. Besant
of Sibsey?

After some thought I made a compromise. Alter or hide my faith I would
not, but yield personal feelings I would. I gave up my correspondence
with Mr. and Mrs. Voysey, which might, it was alleged, he noticed in the