g, that very many of those who
were present turned their faces to see the figure to which he looked and
spoke. And some of the children had a strange persuasion of a presence
there, as of a divine figure militant, armed, and serene....

"Oh God our Leader and our Master and our Friend," the bishop prayed,
"forgive our imperfection and our little motives, take us and make us
one with thy great purpose, use us and do not reject us, make us all
here servants of thy kingdom, weave our lives into thy struggle to
conquer and to bring peace and union to the world. We are small and
feeble creatures, we are feeble in speech, feebler still in action,
nevertheless let but thy light shine upon us and there is not one of
us who cannot be lit by thy fire, and who cannot lose himself in thy
salvation. Take us into thy purpose, O God. Let thy kingdom come into
our hearts and into this world."

His voice ceased, and he stood for a measurable time with his arms
extended and his face upturned....

The golden clouds that whirled and eddied so splendidly in his brain
thinned out, his sense of God's immediacy faded and passed, and he was
left aware of the cathedral pulpit in which he stood so strangely posed,
and of the astonished congregation below him. His arms sank to his side.
His eyes fell upon the book in front of him and he felt for and gripped
the two upper corners of it and, regardless of the common order and
practice, read out the Benediction, changing the words involuntarily as
he read:

"The Blessing of God who is the Father, the Son, the Spirit and the King
of all Mankind, be upon you and remain with you for ever. Amen."

Then he looked again, as if to look once more upon that radiant vision
of God, but now he saw only the clear cool space of the cathedral vault
and the coloured glass and tracery of the great rose window. And then,
as the first notes of the organ came pealing above the departing stir of
the congregation, he turned about and descended slowly, like one who is
still half dreaming, from the pulpit.

(13)

In the vestry he found Canon Bliss. "Help me to take off these
garments," the bishop said. "I shall never wear them again."

"You are ill," said the canon, scrutinizing his face.

"Not ill. But the word was taken out of my mouth. I perceive now that
I have been in a trance, a trance in which the truth is real. It is a
fearful thing to find oneself among realities. It is a dreadful thing
when God begins