e big one, is
further along, and then there's the hill and the hot sun on the dusty
road. You'll need your sporting instincts. But you've got them. So
had St. Paul and those others who furnished the groundwork for that
oft-mentioned Roman holiday. That's religion, as I see it. That's
what _they_ did; pushed on--faced things down--went out
smiling--"gentlemen unafraid." It's like swimming--you can't go under
if you make the least effort. That's the law--of physics and,
therefore, of God. The experience you tell of is exactly what you have
the right to expect. The prayer you said; that's the only way to come
at it, yourself--talking--with that Other. There's a poem--you
know--the man who "caught at God's skirts and prayed."

But you said not to write about you. All right then, I've been to the
theatre, the one at the end of our block. That may strike you as tame.
But you don't know Mrs. Jameson. She's the relict of the late senior
warden. A disapproving party, trimmed with jet beads and a lorgnette.
A few days after the rector left me in charge she triumphed into the
office, rattled the beads and got behind the lorgnette. She presumed I
was the new curate. No loop-hole out of that. I had been seen at the
theatre--not once nor twice. I could well believe it. The late
Colonel Jameson, it appeared, had not approved of clergymen attending
playhouses. She did not approve of it herself. She presumed I
realized the standing of this parish in the diocese? She dwelt on the
force of example to the young. Of course, the opera--but that was
widely different. She would suggest--she did suggest--not in the least
vaguely. Sometime, perhaps, I would come to luncheon? She had really
rather interested herself in the sermon yesterday--a little abrupt,
possibly, at the close--still, of course, a young man, and not very
experienced--besides, the Doctor had spoiled them for almost anybody
else. Naturally.

The room widened after she had gone. You know these ladies with the
thick atmosphere.

That night I went to the theatre. There's a stock company there for
the summer and I have come to know one of the actors. He belongs to
us--was married in the church last summer. The place was
packed--always is--it's a good company. And Everett--he's the
one--kept the house shouting. He's the regular funny man. The play
that week was very funny anyhow--one of those things the billboards
call a "scream." It was just th