Then the thing happened which has happened to more persons than to
me when principle and personal interest found themselves in
opposition to each other and a choice had to be made: I let
principle go, and went over to the other side. Not the entire way,
but far enough to answer the requirements of the case. That is to
say, I took this attitude, to wit: I only BELIEVED Bacon wrote
Shakespeare, whereas I KNEW Shakespeare didn't. Ealer was
satisfied with that, and the war broke loose. Study, practice,
experience in handling my end of the matter presently enabled me to
take my new position almost seriously; a little bit later, utterly
seriously; a little later still, lovingly, gratefully, devotedly;
finally: fiercely, rabidly, uncompromisingly. After that, I was
welded to my faith, I was theoretically ready to die for it, and I
looked down with compassion not unmixed with scorn, upon everybody
else's faith that didn't tally with mine. That faith, imposed upon
me by self-interest in that ancient day, remains my faith to-day,
and in it I find comfort, solace, peace, and never-failing joy.
You see how curiously theological it is. The "rice Christian" of
the Orient goes through the very same steps, when he is after rice
and the missionary is after HIM; he goes for rice, and remains to
worship.

Ealer did a lot of our "reasoning"--not to say substantially all of
it. The slaves of his cult have a passion for calling it by that
large name. We others do not call our inductions and deductions
and reductions by any name at all. They show for themselves, what
they are, and we can with tranquil confidence leave the world to
ennoble them with a title of its own choosing.

Now and then when Ealer had to stop to cough, I pulled my