dmixture of human error in
the fabric. I claim my right to receive the Sacraments of my Church,
believing as I do that they invigorate the soul, bring the presence of
its Redeemer near, and constitute a bond of Christian unity. But I
have no reason to believe that any human pronouncement whatever, the
pronouncements of men of science as well as the pronouncements of
theologians, are not liable to error. There is indeed no fact in the
world except the fact of my own existence of which I am absolutely
certain. And thus I can accept no system of religion which is based
upon deductions, however subtle, from isolated texts, because I cannot
be sure of the infallibility of any form of human expression. Yet, on
the other hand, I seem to discern with as much certainty as I can
discern anything in this world, where all is so dark, the presence upon
earth at a certain date of a personality which commands my homage and
allegiance. And upon this I build my trust.

XXXVI

The Mystery of Evil

I was staying the other day in a large old country-house. One morning,
my host came to me and said: "I should like to show you a curious
thing. We have just discovered a cellar here that seems never to have
been visited or used since the house was built, and there is the
strangest fungoid growth in it I have ever seen." He took a big bunch
of keys, rang the bell, gave an order for lights to be brought, and we
went together to the place. There were ranges of brick-built, vaulted
chambers, through which we passed, pleasant, cool places, with no
plaster to conceal the native brick, with great wine-bins on either
hand. It all gave one an inkling of the change in material conditions
which must have taken place since they were built; the quantity of wine
consumed in eighteenth-century days must have been so enormous, and the
difficulty of conveyance so great, that every great householder must
have felt like the Rich Fool of the parable, with much goods laid up
for many years. In the corner of one of the great vaults was a low
arched door, and my friend explained that some panelling which had been
taken out of an older house, demolished to make room for the present
mansion, had been piled up here, and thus the entrance had been hidden.
He unlocked the door, and a strange scent came out. An abundance of
lights were lit, and we went into the vault. It was the strangest
scene I have ever beheld; the end of the vault seemed like a g