She thought intently, while the colour rose in her cheeks; she was eager
to help.

"With the students, yes. There's nothing to be done there. The
professors--I don't think they like him much; he is too clever. When he
came into the class-room and talked Latin to Johnson, the Professor of
Latin, and Johnson could only stammer out a word or two, I guess he
didn't make a friend;" and the girl laughed at the recollection.

"I don't know anything else that could be brought against him. They say
he is an Atheist. Would that be any use? He gave a lecture on 'Culture
as a Creed' about three months ago which made some folk mad. The other
professors are Christians, and, of course, all the preachers took it up.
He compared Buddha with Christ, and said--oh, I remember!--that
Shakespeare was the Old Testament of the English-speaking peoples. That
caused some talk; they all believe in the Bible. He said, too, that
'Shakespeare was inspired in a far higher sense than St. Paul, who was
thin and hard, a logic-loving bigot.' And President Campbell--he's a
Presbyterian--preached the Sunday afterwards upon St. Paul as the great
missionary of Protestantism. I don't think the professors like him, but
I don't know that they can do anything, for all the students, the senior
ones, at least, are with him," and the girl paused, and tried to find
out from her father's face whether what she had said was likely to be of
service.

"Wall! I don't go much on them things myself, but I guess somethin' ken
be done. I'll see Prentiss about it: send him to interview this
President Campbell, and wake him up to a sense of his duty. This is a
Christian country, I reckon," the grey eyes twinkled, "and those who