"Father, forgive her, for she knows not what she says." It was in vain that I urged on him the sincerity of my seeking, pointing out that I had everything to gain by following his directions, everything to lose by going my own way, but that it seemed to me untruthful to pretend to accept what was not really believed.
"Everything to lose?
Yes, indeed.

You will be lost for time and lost for eternity." "Lost or not," I rejoined, "I must and will try to find out what is true, and I will not believe till I am sure." "You have no right to make terms with God," he retorted, "as to what you will believe or what you will not believe.

You are full of intellectual pride." I sighed hopelessly.

Little feeling of pride was there in me just then, but only a despairful feeling that in this rigid, unyielding dogmatism there was no comprehension of my difficulties, no help for me in my strugglings.

I rose, and, thanking him for his courtesy, said that I would not waste his time further, that I must go home and face the difficulties, openly leaving the Church and taking the consequences.