"Moody was a genius. He made a business success before he gave himself to religious work. He had proved his greatest power--the management of men. You or I would have had to grapple with theology, or geology, or to swim in ink, once we had started and had been left to ourselves." "Perhaps." "No doubt about it. A poor man can be a theologian, or a follower of science, but he can't be both, and explore the Rocky Mountains and Darkest Africa, and conduct soup kitchens in Glasgow, and do a two-years tour with Moody and Sankey." "That aspect had n't occurred to me. I am glad I was not compelled to have it occur to me," said Drummond. "A man needing money and unable to get it is like a machine without lubricating oil. Almost any man who has done much without money could have done more with it," I said. {180} "You think so?" "Are we to think that friction is the best result?" "No," Drummond answered. "Some men can't make money because their work does n't run to it, or they may have the ability, but not the desire, or they may not be able to afford to make money; you remember Agassiz's case. Perhaps he did n't need it." "Money-making is a special faculty," said Drummond. "A man has it or does n't have it, as he may or may not have a musical ear, an eye for colour, a delicate sense of smell, and so on. I know moneyed men, and I daresay you know others, who are duffers outside their special lines. Most men are duffers outside their special lines." "The defect of specialised training, eh?" "Possibly: like over-specialisation in the trades." "Cutting threads on screws for thirty years," said I. "Shall we say the same thing of theology? Most men may overtrain in that." "They do. Therefore try mixing science with it." "That must dilute theology. A little too much science, and the theology becomes watery. But in the Roman Church they dilute the science." "Don't you think it depressing to listen to Carnegie's cant about his intention to die poor?" I asked. "What else could he do? He says nothing about _living_ as a poor man. Poverty is a 'blessing' that we all recognise in essays, sermons, and speeches, but we use all the strength we can to avoid the blessing, and we don't delude the poor with our {181} pretences. All of us like to use money as a force. Perhaps you would call it a mode of motion." "That sounds like Moody," said Drummond. "There 's the other side," he went on, "the deadly monotony of the lives of the average rich folk, deadly monotony, a weary existence dragged along without any interest in useful things. Take an interest in things; that is the way to live; not merely think about them. No man has a right to postpone his life for the sake of his thoughts. This is a real world, not a think world. Treat it as a real world--act!" "That is from your 'Programme of Christianity'," said I. "Yes. The might of those who build is greater than the might of those who retard."