a new national church, each representative of the other."

"And all this is to be done by lager beer!" Theron ventured to comment,
jokingly. He was conscious of a novel perspiration around the bridge of
his nose, which was obviously another effect of the drink.

The priest passed the pleasantry by. "No," he said seriously; "what you
must see is that there must always be a church. If one did not exist, it
would be necessary to invent it. It is needed, first and foremost, as a
police force. It is needed, secondly, so to speak, as a fire insurance.
It provides the most even temperature and pure atmosphere for the growth
of young children. It furnishes the best obtainable social machinery for
marrying off one's daughters, getting to know the right people, patching
up quarrels, and so on. The priesthood earn their salaries as the agents
for these valuable social arrangements. Their theology is thrown in as
a sort of intellectual diversion, like the ritual of a benevolent
organization. There are some who get excited about this part of it, just
as one hears of Free-Masons who believe that the sun rises and sets to
exemplify their ceremonies. Others take their duties more quietly, and,
understanding just what it all amounts to, make the best of it, like you
and me."

Theron assented to the philosophy and the compliment by a grave bow.
"Yes, that is the idea--to make the best of it," he said, and fastened
his regard boldly this time upon the swings.

"We were both ordained by our bishops," continued the priest, "at an
age when those worthy old gentlemen would not have trusted our combined
wisdom to buy a horse for them."