"You pleased me," he explained long afterward; "and why should I not fill my eyes with that which pleases me ?" I have said that he was afraid of nothing.

He was a natural aristocrat--and this in spite of the fact that he was in the camp of the non-aristocrats.

He was a superman, a blond beast such as Nietzsche* has described, and in addition he was aflame with democracy.
* Friederich Nietzsche, the mad philosopher of the nineteenth century of the Christian Era, who caught wild glimpses of truth, but who, before he was done, reasoned himself around the great circle of human thought and off into madness.
In the interest of meeting the other guests, and what of my unfavorable impression, I forgot all about the working-class philosopher, though once or twice at table I noticed him--especially the twinkle in his eye as he listened to the talk first of one minister and then of another.

He has humor, I thought, and I almost forgave him his clothes.

But the time went by, and the dinner went by, and he never opened his mouth to speak, while the ministers talked interminably about the working class and its relation to the church, and what the church had done and was doing for it.