“And of the religionists I only ask that they will have the same toleration for me that I have ever had for them. I mean those who are sincere and simple among them, of any denomination. For I am sincere and simple too. “And now I must say ‘Good-bye.’ I feel very sad about it, for I have written so many letters to you, and told you so many things that it is parting with a friend. And you will say a good word for me if you get the chance. And if they say I’m mad, tell them from me it’s a madness that will spread—not the _suicide_ but the _belief_. But indeed it is no madness. “And for your friend, tell him this from me—I wasn’t writing of ‘Paradise _Lost_’ but of ‘Heaven _Gained_,’ and that if I remember my Milton correctly, they didn’t _aspire_ to tea-tables in the Garden, but simply ate it picnic fashion, so that Heaven with its tables goes one better still. And tell him that if he will only read the book through once again, I think he’ll find there is a simple, homely charm even in Jesus Christ, for it’s like everything else. You’ve got to get used to it. And when I go to Heaven I’d rather meet simple people who had power than great big kings who talked of it and sometimes found it wasn’t there. And give him my love and tell him there was no one more disgusted with those sties than I was at the time. And that the young man was so terribly _real_ he nearly broke my heart, and the College—well, perhaps that _was_ a nightmare, but they’re realer than anything else. And tell him it was all _me_. And ask him not to be too particular over grammar, or meanings or muddles. They were invented to make men human—that is, unsuperior. I never heard of such a thing as Goethe explaining his meaning all before. That’s _quite_ an old fashion. You give people nothing to think about, and cast quite a slur upon their reputation for brains. “And you see in my capacity as teacher I would _force_ people to think if I could, whether they would or no. “I am afraid I am very loath to stop, it will be such a long silence—but silence speaks, you know, and I shall speak, or rather my Heavenly Father. And now I say, not from politeness, but from the bottom of my heart, I hope some day we shall meet again—not in stuffy London, or anywhere upon this earth, but, why not? at one of the tea-tables of Heaven. And I wish it very much indeed—and it all depends on you—whether you will follow in the simple way that God directs. “With kind regards, and the love that all Heaven’s children may bear with one another.”