A man of mature years and thoughtful mien was slowly ascending the mountain slopes when he met the good minister, with prayer book under arm, on his way to church.

“My dear sir,” said the latter, “your steps have passed the House of God, and this the Sabbath morn!”

The other answered: “The house of man, you mean. I go to the House of God, the mountain top, with its foundation of finite rock and its roof of infinite space; and there, from the finite my soul aspires to the infinite, from sin to perfection, from the known to the ideal, from disorder to harmony, from man to God.”

“This too, I preach,” said the good minister.

“And so do the Rabbi, the Brahman and the priests of the many religions and sects of this world,” replied the other. “But each explains the great mystery in his own way and the many ways confuse me and so, as alone I must one day meet my God, alone now I seek Him on the mountain top.”

“Let not our many ways trouble you,” said the good minister, with a kindly smile. “If you really have our common goal in your heart, you need not climb to the mountain top to find the House of God; because then you will know it is everywhere, as God is everywhere!”