He never did anything but wonder whether Christianity was true and prove that it wasn’t and hope that it was.
There is no doubt about his moral goodness. And yet it is all so dreadfully depressing- no intimacy, no clear-cut crisp boldness. Oh, I suppose he was intimate but he didn’t seem to have anything to be intimate about except his religious doubts. And he really ought to have got over that a little sooner; because he knew that the thing wasn’t true perfectly well from the beginning.