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been neither cathedral nor bishop in Princhester。 It came to him that if archbishops were rolled into patriarchs and patriarchs into archbishops； it would matter scarcely more in the world process that was afoot than if two men shook hands while their house was afire。 At times all of us have inappropriate thoughts。 The unfortunate thought that struck the bishop as a bullet might strike a man in an exposed trench； as he was hurrying through the cloisters to a special service and address upon that doubly glorious day in our English history； the day of St。 Crispin； was of Diogenes rolling his tub。
It was a poisonous thought。
It arose perhaps out of an article in a weekly paper at which he had glanced after lunch； an article written by one of those sceptical spirits who find all too abundant expression in our periodical literature。 The writer boldly charged the 〃Christian churches〃 with absolute ineffectiveness。 This war； he declared； was above all other wars a war of ideas； of material organization against rational freedom； of violence against law； it was a war more copiously discussed than any war had ever been before； the air was thick with apologetics。 And what was the voice of the church amidst these elemental issues？ Bishops and divines who were patriots one heard discordantly enough； but where were the bishops and divines who spoke for the Prince of Peace？ Where was the blessing of the church； where was the veto of the church？ When it came to that one discovered only a broad preoccupied back busied in supplementing the Army Medical Corps with Red Cross activities； good work in its wayexcept that the canonicals seemed superfluous。 Who indeed looked to the church for any voice at all？ And so to Diogenes。
The bishop's mind went hunting for an answer to that indictment。 And came back and came back to the image of Diogenes。
It was with that image dangling like a barbed arrow from his mind that the bishop went into the pulpit to preach upon St。 Crispin's day； and looked down upon a thin and scattered congregation in which the elderly； the childless； and the unoccupied predominated。
That night insomnia resumed its sway。
Of course the church ought to be controlling this great storm； the greatest storm of war that had ever stirred mankind。 It ought to be standing fearlessly between the combatants like a figure in a wall painting； with the cross of Christ uplifted and the restored memory of Christendom softening the eyes of the armed nations。 〃Put down those weapons and listen to me；〃 so the church should speak in irresistible tones； in a voice of silver trumpets。
Instead it kept a long way from the fighting； tucked up its vestments； and was rolling its local tubs quite briskly。
（7）
And then came the aggravation of all these distresses by an abrupt abandonment of smoking and alcohol。 Alcoholic relaxation； a necessary mitigation of the unreality of peacetime politics； becomes a grave danger in war； and it was with an understandable desire to forward the interests of his realm that the King decided to set his statesmen an examplewhich unhappily was not very widely followedby abstaining from alcohol during the continuance of the struggle。 It did however swing over the Bishop of Princhester to an immediate and complete abandonment of both drink and tobacco。 At that time he was finding comfort for his nerves in Manila cheroots； and a particularly big and heavy type of Egyptian cigarette with a considerable amount of opium； and his disorganized system seized upon this sudden change as a grievance； and set all his jangling being crying aloud for one cigarettejust one cigarette。
The cheroots； it seemed； he could better spare； but a cigarette became his symbol for his lost steadiness and ease。
It brought him low。
The reader has already been told the lamentable incident of the stolen cigarette and the small boy； and how the bishop； tormented by that shameful memory； cried aloud in the night。
The bishop rolled his tub； and is there any tub…rolling in the world more busy and exacting than a bishop's？ He rolled in it spite of ill…health and insomnia； and all the while he was tormented by the enormous background of the world war； by his ineffective realization of vast national needs； by his passionate desire； for himself and his church； not to be ineffective。
The distressful alternation between nights of lucid doubt and days of dull acquiescence was resumed with an intensification of its contrasts。 The brief phase of hope that followed the turn of the fighting upon the Maine； the hope that after all the war would end swiftly； dramatically； and justly； and everything be as it had been beforebut pleasanter； gave place to a phase that bordered upon despair。 The fall of Antwerp and the doubts and uncertainties of the Flanders situation weighed terribly upon the bishop。 He was haunted for a time by nightmares of Zeppelins presently raining fire upon London。 These visions became Apocalyptic。 The Zeppelins came to England with the new year； and with the close of the year came the struggle for Ypres that was so near to being a collapse of the allied defensive。 The events of the early spring； the bloody failure of British generalship at Neuve Chapelle； the naval disaster in the Dardanelles； the sinking of the Falaba； the Russian defeat in the Masurian Lakes； all deepened the bishop's impression of the immensity of the nation's difficulties and of his own unhelpfulness。 He was ashamed that the church should hold back its curates from enlistment while the French priests were wearing their uniforms in the trenches； the expedition of the Bishop of London to hold open…air services at the front seemed merely to accentuate the tub…rolling。 It was rolling the tub just where it was most in the way。
What was wrong？ What was wanting？
The Westminster Gazette； The Spectator； and several other of the most trusted organs of public opinion were intermittently discussing the same question。 Their discussions implied at once the extreme need that was felt for religion by all sorts of representative people； and the universal conviction that the church was in some way muddling and masking her revelation。 〃What is wrong with the Churches？〃 was； for example； the general heading of The Westminster Gazette's correspondence。
One day the bishop skimmed a brief incisive utterance by Sir Harry Johnston that pierced to the marrow of his own shrinking convictions。 Sir Harry is one of those people who seem to write as well as speak in a quick tenor。 〃Instead of propounding plainly and without the acereted mythology of Asia Minor； Greece and Rome； the pure Gospel of Christ。。。。 they present it overloaded with unbelievable myths （such as； among a thousand others； that Massacre of the Innocents which never took place）。。。。 bore their listeners by a Tibetan repetition of creeds that have ceased to be credible。。。。 Mutually contradictory propositions。。。。 Prayers and litanies composed in Byzantine and mediaeval times。。。。 the want of actuality； the curious silliness which has； ever since the destruction of Jerusalem； hung about the exposition of Christianity。。。。 But if the Bishops continue to fuss about the trappings of religion。。。。 the maintenance