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he was little better than an infidel he would have been lost;
he believed implicitly in pain everlasting, he believed in it
much more than in eternal happiness; and he shuddered at
the dangers he had run.
Since the day on which Mr. Perkins had spoken kindly
to him, when he was smarting under the particular form of
abuse which he could least bear, Philip had conceived for
his headmaster a dog-like adoration. He racked his brains
vainly for some way to please him. He treasured the smallest
word of commendation which by chance fell from his lips.
And when he came to the quiet little meetings in his house
he was prepared to surrender himself entirely. He kept his
eyes fixed on Mr. Perkins’ shining eyes, and sat with mouth
half open, his head a little thrown forward so as to miss no
word. The ordinariness of the surroundings made the mat-
ters they dealt with extraordinarily moving. And often the
master, seized himself by the wonder of his subject, would
push back the book in front of him, and with his hands
clasped together over his heart, as though to still the beat-
ing, would talk of the mysteries of their religion. Sometimes
Philip did not understand, but he did not want to under-
stand, he felt vaguely that it was enough to feel. It seemed
to him then that the headmaster, with his black, straggling
hair and his pale face, was like those prophets of Israel who
feared not to take kings to task; and when he thought of the
Redeemer he saw Him only with the same dark eyes and
those wan cheeks.
Mr. Perkins took this part of his work with great seri-
ousness. There was never here any of that flashing humour

10 Of Human Bondage