But as I sit in front of my large bay window and see the shadows on the grass and the sunlight on the leaves, and the soft glimmer of the rosebuds left by the storms, I can but believe that all will be very well.

'Trust in the Lord, wait patiently for Him'-- they are trite words.

But He made the grass, the leaves, the rosebuds, and the sunshine, and He is the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And now the trite words have swelled into a mighty argument." I found more help in Theistic writers like Grey, and Agnostic like Arnold, than I did in the Broad Church teachers, but these, of course, served to make return to the old faith more and more impossible.

The Church services were a weekly torture, but feeling as I did that I was only a doubter, I kept my doubts to myself.