The bishop listened intently, his head bent, his eyes on he rector.

"And you have come out--convinced?" he asked tremulously. "Yes, yes,
I see you have. It is enough."

He relapsed into thought, his wrinkled hand lying idly on the table.

"I need not tell you, my friend," he resumed at length, "that a great
deal of pressure has been brought to bear upon me in this matter, more
than I have ever before experienced. You have mortally offended, among
others, the most powerful layman in the diocese, Mr. Parr, who complains
that you have presumed to take him to task concerning his private
affairs."

"I told him," answered Holder, "that so long as he continued to live the
life he leads, I could not accept his contributions to St. John's."

"I am an old man," said the bishop, "and whatever usefulness I have had
is almost finished. But if I were young to-day, I should pray God for
the courage and insight you have shown, and I am thankful to have lived
long enough to have known you. It has, at least, been given one to
realize that times have changed, that we are on the verge of a mighty
future. I will be frank to say that ten years ago, if this had happened,
I should have recommended you for trial. Now I can only wish you
Godspeed. I, too, can see the light, my friend. I can see, I think, though
dimly, the beginnings of a blending of all sects, of all religions in the
increasing vision of the truth revealed in Jesus Christ, stripped, as you
say, of dogma, of fruitless attempts at rational explanation. In Japan
and China, in India and Persia, as well as in Christian countries, it is
coming, coming by some working of the Spirit the mystery of which is