It is our souls that make our bodies worth
anything, and the life of the soul doesn't come from its activity, or
any performance of its own. Those things are only the results and the
signs of life, not the causes of it."
"Christ in us, the hope of glory," said the other doctor gravely, "and
Christ's glory was his usefulness and gift for helping others; I
believe there's less quackery in our profession than any other, but it
is amazing how we bungle at it. I wonder how you will get on with your
little girl? If people didn't have theories of life of their own, or
wouldn't go exactly the wrong way, it would be easier to offer
assistance; but where one person takes a right direction of his own
accord, there are twenty who wander to and fro."
"I may as well confess to you," he continued presently, "that I have
had a _protege_ myself, but I don't look for much future joy in
watching the development of my plots. He has taken affairs into his
own hands, and I dare say it is much better for him, for if I had
caught him young enough, I should have wished him to run the gauntlet
of all the professions, not to speak of the arts and sciences. He was
a clever young fellow; I saw him married the day before I left
England. His wife was the daughter of a curate, and he the younger son
of a younger son, and it was a love affair worth two or three
story-books. It came to be a question of money alone. I had known the
boy the year before in Bombay and chanced to find him one day in the
Marine Hospital at Nagasaki.
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