The Lord ruleth me: and I shall want nothing. 2 He hath set me in a place of pasture. He hath brought me up, on the water of refreshment: 3 He hath converted my soul. He hath led me on the paths of justice, for his own name's sake. 4 For though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I fear no evils, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they have comforted me. 5 Thou hast prepared a table before me, against them that afflict me. Thou hast anointed my head with oil: and my chalice which inebriateth me how goodly is it. And thy mercy will follow me all the days of my life. And that I may dwell in the house of the Lord, unto length of days. In the Douai version this psalm was called the twenty-second. Without any special guidance--I think most of my teachers would have looked on as dangerous any attempt to ally English literature with the Bible--I soon discovered that nearly everything I read owed something to the Bible. At first, the comparison of the twenty-third psalm in the King James version enraptured me so much that I began to find fault with the Latinized phrases of the Vulgate in English. It was the fashion in the early seventies to be very Saxon in speech, especially in the little group at school interested in English literature. Street cars at this time were comparatively new in Philadelphia, and I think we reached the last extremity of Saxonism in speech when we spoke of them as "folk wains." The tide then turned toward the Latins; and I preferred the Book of Job and the story of Ruth in the Latinized version, because the words were more mouth filling, and because it was very difficult to translate everything into a bald "early English medium", which for a time I had been trying to do. It was Keats's lovely phrase "amid the alien corn" which sent me back to "Ruth"; and a quotation in Quackenbos's "Rhetoric"--"Can'st thou hook the Leviathan" which made me revel in "Job." Something Meg Merrilies said bore me on toward the roaring storm of Isaiah. The Latinized medium seemed to suit his denunciations best; and then, besides, I found more illuminating footnotes in the Douai version than in the King James. In both versions, some passages were so obscure that I often wondered how anybody could get any meaning out of them. I was often astonished to find in English novels that the old people in the cottages were soothed by texts, quoted at a great length, out of which I could make nothing, so I limited myself to the Douai version, which I found more illuminating.