Ealer was satisfied with that, and the war broke loose. Study,
practice, experience in handling my end of the matter presently enabled
me to take my new position almost seriously; a little bit later, utterly
seriously; a little later still, lovingly, gratefully, devotedly;
finally: fiercely, rabidly, uncompromisingly. After that I was welded to
my faith, I was theoretically ready to die for it, and I looked down with
compassion not unmixed with scorn upon everybody else's faith that didn't
tally with mine. That faith, imposed upon me by self-interest in that
ancient day, remains my faith today, and in it I find comfort, solace,
peace, and never-failing joy. You see how curiously theological it is.
The "rice Christian" of the Orient goes through the very same steps, when
he is after rice and the missionary is after HIM; he goes for rice, and
remains to worship.
Ealer did a lot of our "reasoning"--not to say substantially all of it.
The slaves of his cult have a passion for calling it by that large name.
We others do not call our inductions and deductions and reductions by any
name at all. They show for themselves what they are, and we can with
tranquil confidence leave the world to ennoble them with a title of its
own choosing.
Now and then when Ealer had to stop to cough, I pulled my
induction-talents together and hove the controversial lead myself: always
getting eight feet, eight and a half, often nine, sometimes even
quarter-less-twain--as _I_ believed; but always "no bottom," as HE said.
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