“And there’s another thing, perhaps the most important of all under the conditions we are in: religion. I’m not talking about creeds or anything of that kind. I’ve studied most of them from the point of view of psychology; and they’re empty things; life left them long ago. But behind all that mass of outworn lumber there’s a real feeling which can’t be neglected if we are to get the best out of things. That’s why I brought all these ministers of the various denominations into the Area. We must have them; and as far as I could, I picked the best of them. But I’ll have no idlers here. They have to do their day’s work with the rest of us and do their teaching afterwards. Every man ought to be able to _do_ something. After all, Christ was a carpenter before He took up His work. That’s what has been wrong with ninety per cent. of parsons since the Churches started. They don’t know anything practical and they mistake talk for work. What was the average sermon except expanding a text, with illustrations--diluting the Bible with talk, just as a dishonest milkman waters his milk. “Well, I’ve picked the best I could get; and I’ve given them a free hand. But I wish I were sure where it is all going to lead. It’s the most difficult problem I ever tackled, I know. Our conditions aren’t parallel, but I am half-afraid of reproducing the story of the Anabaptists in Münster. You can’t get heavy physical and mental tension in an unprepared population without seeing some strange things. I introduced these ministers as a brake on that line of development. “And what a chance they have! It’s when men are most helpless that they turn to religion; and here we are going to have a field in which much might be sown. If only they are equal to the times! But it’s no affair of mine. They must work out their own salvation and perhaps the salvation of their people if they can. “As for us, Flint, we’ve got enough work of our own in this world. Take my advice and clear every idea of humanity out of your mind: stick to your curves and graphs and don’t think beyond them. If once you let your imagination stray over the real meaning of them--in toil and pain and death--you’ll never be able to carry on. I can’t help seeing it all; and that’s why I pin myself to the Curve there. I don’t want to look beyond it. I want to keep myself detached from all that as far as possible; for I can’t afford to be biased. It’s difficult; and in a few weeks more it will be still harder, when these unheard cries of agony go up in the South. But what can one do? I must shut my ears as best I can and go forward; or everything will fall to pieces and we shall save nothing out of the wreck. What a prospect, eh? “Now, Flint,”--he sprang up--“off to work again, both of us. We can’t afford to waste time if we are to have an evening free from worry. I’ll see you at dinner.” As I reached the door, he called me back and spoke low: