"Next!" exclaimed Deacon Bates with more than his usual energy, and Mr. Jodderel sank back into his chair and talked angrily with every feature but his mouth, and with his whole body besides. "Mr. Whilcher has some new ideas to present, no doubt," continued the leader, bracing himself somewhat firmly in his chair, for the Deacon naturally expected an assault from a man of Mr. Whilcher's peculiar views.
"Poverty of spirit seems to me to be old English for modesty," said Mr. Whilcher, "We know very little, comparatively, of the great designs of God, and about as little of the intentions of our fellow-men, so we should be very careful how we question our maker or criticise our neighbors. No human being would appreciate divine perfection if he saw it; no man can give his fellow-men full credit for what they would do, if they were angels, and are sorry because they can't do. I think the passage means that only by that modesty, that self-repression, by which alone a man can accept the inevitable as decreed by God, and forbear that fault-finding which comes fully as easy as breathing, can a man be fitted for the companionship of the loving company which awaits us all in the next world."
"Whereabouts?" asked Mr. Jodderel.
Half-a-dozen members filibustered at once, and Mr. Jodderel was temporarily suppressed, after which Squire Woodhouse remarked:
"Well, now, that sounds first rate—I never knew before that Unitarians had such good religion in them—no harm meant, you know, Whilcher."
"Now let us hear from Mr. Bungfloat," said Deacon Bates.
Mr. Bungfloat, bookkeeper to Mr. Whilcher, hopelessly explored his memory for something from Herbert Spencer that would bear upon the subject, but finding nothing at hand, he quoted some expressions from John Stuart Mills' essay on "Nature," and was hopelessly demoralized when he realized that they did not bear in the remotest manner upon the topic under consideration. Then Deacon Bates announced that the subject was open for general remark and comment. Mr. Jodderel was upon his feet in an instant, though the class has no rule compelling the members to rise while speaking.
"Mr. Leader," said he, "everybody has spoken, but nobody has settled the main question, which is, where is the 'kingdom of heaven?' Everybody knows who the poor in spirit are; any one who didn't know when we began has now a lot of first class opinions to choose from. But where and what is heaven—that is what we want to know."
A subdued but general groan indicated the possibility that Mr. Jodderel was mistaken as to the desires of the class. Meanwhile, young Mr. Banty, who had been to Europe, and listened to much theological debate in cafés and beer-gardens, remarked.