THE INEFFECTIVE MESSAGE The week had gone while he walked in the crowds, feeling his remoteness; but he knew at last that he was not of the brotherhood of the zealots; that the very sense of humour by which he saw the fallacies of one zealot prevented him from becoming another.

He lacked the zealot's conviction of his unique importance, yet one must be such a zealot to give a message effectively.

He began to see that the world could not be lost; that whatever might be vital in his own message would, soon or late, be delivered by another.

The time mattered not.

Could he not be as reposeful, as patient, as God?
In spite of which, the impulse to speak his little word would recur; and it came upon him stoutly one day on his way up town.