He had often, during his work with the members of his community, been conscious of his ignorance of the impulses and powers that went up to make the ordinary sensual physical life of the normal man.His own troubles, trials, failures were so utterly of another kind that in this other world his imagination refused to aid him.This had often deeply distressed him and made him timid and shy in his dealings with men and women.It was this, more than anything else, that held him back from the ambition to proselytise.How could he go forth and challenge men's souls when he could not understand nor feel their difficulties? More and more as his years advanced had he retired into himself, into his own mystical world of communion with a God who drew ever nearer and nearer to him.He humbled himself before men; he did not believe himself better than they because he had not yielded to their temptations; but he could not help them;his tongue was tied; he was a man cut off from his fellows and he knew it.
He had never felt so impatient of his impotence as he did to-night.
For ten years he had been waiting for this interview with his son, and now that it was come he was timid and afraid as though he had been opposed by a stranger.He had always known that Martin would return.It had been his one worldly ambition and prayer to have him at his side again.When he had thought and dreamt of the time that was coming, he had thought that it would be simple enough to win the boy back to the old allegiance and faith to which he had once been bound.Meanwhile the boy had grown into a man; here was a new Martin deep in experiences, desires, ambitions of which his father could have no perception.Even in the moment that he was aware of the possibility of losing his son he was aware also of the deep almost fanatical resolve to keep him, to hold him at all costs.
This was to be the test of his whole earthly life.He seemed, as he sat there, looking across at his boy, to challenge God Himself to take him from him.It was as though he said: