Deeper and deeper grew the silence, and less and less my pain, as the heart-stirring words fell upon the listening throng. 'I would not, brethren, have you ignorant concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as other which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus is dead and is risen, even so them which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.'
So the solemn periods marched on to the end. 'Wherefore comfort yourselves one another with these words,' and therewith the white-haired scholar kneeled down, and began with a loud, full voice to sing in English the Paternoster.
A sound, as it seemed to me, like the rustle of angels' wings filled the mouldering church as the whole throng with one accord kneeled with the preacher and joined him as he sang, women and all. Neither I nor any there, I think, save the preachers, had heard such a thing before. And surely it was the sweet women's voices that made our singing sound so holy in my ears, and lifted up my heart with such a heaven-born content that at last I could feel indeed that it was not a day for sorrow, but one in which I too must rejoice with England.
Our Paternoster was followed by a sermon, in which, after a few words on death and eternal life, the preacher fell to exhorting the people to be earnest in carrying out the work, and not to be content with a pretended evangelical reformation, suffering such things to be obtruded on the Church as should make easy the returning back to Popery, superstition, and idolatry. They had seen, he said, in Germany the evil of suffering, under colour of giving small offence, many stumbling-blocks, which after the first beginnings were hard to get removed at least not without great struggling.
But, indeed, I remember little of what the good man said; for I was but a boy then, and my mind would ever be fixing itself on the jagged ends of the rood-screen, which had been left sticking from the wall when it had been hewn away.
'Pity it is,' I said to my thoughts, 'they were not clean rooted out. Even now they might wound a man's limbs who was passing unawares, and time will come when they will grow corrupt, and as they rot away make the arch unstable.'
Little I thought then how true a type those same poor beam-ends would prove of all that was to come on England ere many years were gone.
CHAPTER III
It would be wearisome for me to relate all that passed in the weeks that followed my father's funeral, even if I could. But indeed I remember little, except confusedly about men of law who came from London and had long speech with my guardian.