Nor, in fact, did the storm of distress which these events inflicted on me, subside until I willingly received the task of withstanding it, as God’s trial whether I was faithful.  As soon as I gained strength to say, “O my Lord, I will bear not this only, but more also,[3] for thy sake, for conscience, and for truth,”—­my sorrows vanished, until the next blow and the next inevitable pang.  At last my heart had died within me; the bitterness of death was past; I was satisfied to be hated by the saints, and to reckon that those who had not yet turned against me would not bear me much longer.—­Then I conceived the belief, that if we may not make a heaven on earth for ourselves out of the love of saints, it is in order that we may find a truer heaven in God’s love.

The question about this time much vexed me, what to do about receiving the Holy Supper of the Lord, the great emblem of brotherhood, communion, and church connexion.  At one time I argued with myself, that it became an unmeaning form, when not partaken of in mutual love; that I could never again have free intercourse of heart with any one;—­why then use the rite of communion, where there is no communion?  But, on the other hand, I thought it a mode of confessing Christ, and that permanently to disuse it, was an unfaithfulness.  In the Church of England I could have been easy as far as the communion formulary was concerned; but to the entire system I had contracted an incurable repugnance, as worldly, hypocritical, and an evil counterfeit.  I desired, therefore, to creep into some obscure congregation, and there wait till my mind had ripened as to the right path in circumstances so perplexing.  I will only briefly say, that I at last settled among some who had previously been total strangers to me.  To their good will and simple kindness I feel myself indebted:  peace be to them!  Thus I gained time, and repose of mind, which I greatly needed.

From the day that I had mentally decided on total inaction as to all ecclesiastical questions, I count the termination of my Second Period.  My ideal of a spiritual Church had blown up in the most sudden and heartbreaking way; overpowering me with shame, when the violence of sorrow was past.  There was no change whatever in my own judgment, yet a total change of action was inevitable:  that I was on the eve of a great transition of mind I did not at all suspect.  Hitherto my reverence for the authority of the whole and indivisible Bible was overruling and complete.  I never really had dared to criticize it; I did not even exact from it self-consistency.  If two passages appeared to be opposed, and I could not evade the difficulty by the doctrine of Development and Progress, I inferred that there was some mode of conciliation unknown to me; and that perhaps the depth of truth in divine things could ill be stated in our imperfect language.  But from the man who dared to interpose a human comment on the Scripture,