she was not his mother, and that the words he had seemed to understand were—now that he listened—words in an unknown tongue.
"You see, I am but a common sort of man, dear God; I have neither lived nor thought in any way greatly, I have gone from one day to the next day without looking very much farther than the end of the day, I have gone on as life has befallen; if no great trouble had come into my life, so I should have lived to the end of my days. But life which began for me easily and safely has become constantly more difficult and strange. I could have held my services and given my benedictions, I could have believed I believed in what I thought I believed.... But now I am lost and astray—crying out for God...."
§ 9
"Let us talk a little about your troubles," said the Angel. "Let us talk about God and this creed that worries you and this church of yours."
"I feel as though I had been struggling to this talk through all the years—since my doubts began."
"The story your Creed is trying to tell is much the same story that all religions try to tell. In your heart there is God, beyond the stars there is God. Is it the same God?"
"I don't know," said the bishop.
"Does any one know?"
