of men, a market-salutation from reputable Commonplace, a seat in a
fashionable church, a final lubrication with a fat obituary,--and then?
But it was no part of my design to invite the reader into the inner
chambers of my own personality, and I forbear.

After a half-mile walk, we left Miss Hurribattle, and turned our steps
towards the parsonage.

"I sometimes feel that her instinct reasons more accurately than my poor
logic," said Clifton, bitterly; "yet it is a hard necessity to sacrifice
our individual faculties of comparison and judgment for the
working-power of a fervid organization!"

"No doubt it is a matter for serious question," I replied. "For, as soon
as we grow out of our languid and feeble maladies, we grow into the
violent inflammatory disorders which troubled our forefathers. The
doctors will tell you that this is true of our bodies; and surely the
soul's physician may pursue the analogy."

"I can no longer hope to heal any man's soul," exclaimed the clergyman;
"it is enough if my own be not wholly lost. I shall to-morrow formally
resign the sacred office of teacher in this place. With the final
renunciation of the great purpose which once swayed my life, I must
renounce every symbol less profound, less poetic. I must make my boast
of an intellect which will never let any affection pass the line of
demonstrable truth. I once knew how grand it was to stand alone in the
world of an inward faith; but now I have renounced all belief in an
ideal human being inclosed in this poor body whom it was my business to
liberate."