"As to what you may think of my beliefs, I have no fear; they need
not be discussed and they cannot be attacked."

"You are an Episcopalian," he suggested hesitatingly. "I do not
wish to be rude, but--your church has its dogmas."

"There is not a dogma of my church that I have ever thought of for
a moment: or of any other church," she replied instantly and
clearly.

In those simple words she had uttered unaware a long historic
truth: that religion, not theology, forms the spiritual life of
women. In the whole history of the world's opinions, no dogma of
any weight has ever originated with a woman; wherein, as in many
other ways, she shows points of superiority in her intellect. It is
a man who tries to apprehend God through his logic and psychology;
a woman understands Him better through emotions and deeds. It is
the men who are concerned about the cubits, the cedar wood, the
Urim and Thummim of the Tabernacle; woman walks straight into the
Holy of Holies. Men constructed the Cross; women wept for the
Crucified. It was a man--a Jew defending his faith in his own
supernatural revelation--who tried to ram a sponge of vinegar into
the mouth of Christ, dying; it was women who gathered at the
sepulchre of Resurrection. If Christ could have had a few women
among his Apostles, there might have been more of His religion in
the world and fewer creeds barnacled on the World's Ship of Souls.

"How can you remain in your church without either believing or
disbelieving its dogmas?" asked David, squarely.