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Old Likeman began to speak and had a fit of coughing. "Some of

these texts--whuff, whuff--like a conjuror's hat--whuff--



make 'em--fit anything."

A man-servant appeared and handed a silver box of lozenges into



which the old bishop dipped with a trembling hand.

"Tricks of that sort," he said, "won't do, Scrope--among



professionals.

"And besides," he was inspired; "true religion is old wine--



as old as the soul.

"You are a bishop in the Church of Christ on Earth," he summed



it up. "And you want to become a detached and wandering Ancient

Mariner from your shipwreck of faith with something to explain--



that nobody wants to hear. You are going out I suppose you have

means?"



The old man awaited the answer to his abrupt enquiry with a

handful of lozenges.



"No," said the Bishop of Princhester, "practically--I

haven't."



"My dear boy!" it was as if they were once more rector and

curate. "My dear brother! do you know what the value of an



ex-bishop is in the ordinary labour market?"

"I have never thought of that."



"Evidently. You have a wife and children?"

"Five daughters."



"And your wife married you--I remember, she married you soon

after you got that living in St. John's Wood. I suppose she took



it for granted that you were fixed in an ecclesiastical career.

That was implicit in the transaction."



"I haven't looked very much at that side of the matter yet,"

said the Bishop of Princhester.



"It shouldn't be a decisive factor," said Bishop Likeman, "not

decisive. But it will weigh. It should weigh...."



The old man opened out fresh aspects of the case. His argument

was for delay, for deliberation. He went on to a wider set of



considerations. A man who has held the position of a bishop for

some years is, he held, no longer a free man in matters of



opinion. He has become an official part of a great edifice which

supports the faith of multitudes of simple and dependant



believers. He has no right to indulge recklessly in intellectual

and moral integrities. He may understand, but how is the flock to



understand? He may get his own soul clear, but what will happen

to them? He will just break away their supports, astonish them,



puzzle them, distress them, deprive them of confidence, convince

them of nothing.



"Intellectual egotism may be as grave a sin," said Bishop

Likeman, "as physical selfishness.



"Assuming even that you are absolutely right," said Bishop

Likeman, "aren't you still rather in the position of a man who



insists upon Swedish exercises and a strengthening dietary on a

raft?"



"I think you have made out a case for delay," said his hearer.

"Three months."



The Bishop of Princhester conceded three months.

"Including every sort of service. Because, after all, even



supposing it is damnable to repeat prayers and creeds you do not

believe in, and administer sacraments you think superstition,



nobody can be damned but yourself. On the other hand if you

express doubts that are not yet perfectly digested--you



experiment with the souls of others...."

(5)



The bishop found much to ponder in his old friend's counsels.

They were discursive and many-fronted, and whenever he seemed to



be penetrating or defeating the particular considerations under

examination the others in the background had a way of appearing



invincible. He had a strong persuasion that Likeman was wrong--

and unanswerable. And the true God now was no more than the



memory of a very vividly realized idea. It was clear to the

bishop that he was no longer a churchman or in the generally



accepted sense of the word a Christian, and that he was bound to

come out of the church. But all sense of urgency had gone. It was



a matter demanding deliberation and very great consideration for

others.



He took no more of Dale's stuff because he felt bodily sound

and slept well. And he was now a little shy of this potent fluid.



He went down to Princhester the next day, for his compromise of




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