He spoke a great deal
about example, about the leading of the masses, and altogether seems
to hold avowed lack of faith, a greater sin than feigned belief.
Of course he had plenty to say on the subject; he seems to be an
honest man, and I must admit that much of what I heard impressed me.
I envied him the ease with which he spoke, the ready-coined language
he was free to use. I could find no words in which to prove that I,
too, had a religion. I wonder, shall I ever be able to tell another
what it is that I feel, as by means of a sixth sense, when earth and
heaven are fairest, when poets sing their best and music is most
divine, when the souls of men and women leap to their eyes and their
hearts lie bare; then something within me smiles and shivers, and I
say, "This--this is God!"
Oh, it is all very well to talk of being sincere! Again and yet
again I must say it. For the lips cannot speak what the spirit
feels. And then,--why, I spoiled my truthful day by a lie at the
end. How could I go to those two old dears and say, "I cannot pray
with you or go to church any more, I am an infidel." How could I? I
said instead, "My mother brought me up in a different faith; I tried
to go to your church, but I cannot, and I think you would not wish
me to act against my conscience in so sacred a matter, so we will go
our ways.
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