evidently breaking away from all definite dogmatic faith. He was bent, so
to speak, on inventing a new religion for himself.

Gradually every year made the spiritual breach wider between him and those
who held the Christian Faith. Soon he did not hesitate to say out, in very
unguarded language, what he really thought of doctrines which he knew were
precious to them. Sometimes to-day, indeed, in reading his books, one
comes across some statement in letter, article, or lecture flung out
almost venomously; and one steps back mentally as if a spiritual hiss had
whipped the air from some inimical sentence which had suddenly lifted its
heretical head from amongst an otherwise quiet group of words.

At the end of life it is said that he showed signs of some return to the
early faith of his boyhood. That he said, just before his death, to Rev.
Temperley Grey, who was visiting him in his last illness, "I feel Paul is
less and less to me; and Christ is more and more."

And those who knew that side of him which was splendid in its untiring
effort for the betterment of mankind--for the righting of wrongs to women,
and others unable to achieve it for themselves--cannot but hope that the
faith of earlier days was his once more, before he passed into the silence
that lies--as far as we are concerned in this world--at the back of Death.

I remember being told once, that of Stanley it was said by someone who
knew him well, that she had always felt that "he believed more than he
knew he did."

And when one thinks how Francis Newman looked up in faith--even though it
was an absolutely undogmatic, formless faith--to a God who watched over
mankind, one may hope that he too "believed more than he knew he did."