"In the absence, then, of all proof to the contrary, and in the presence of the positive evidence which I have given that the British Church stood in the same relation to Rome during the earlier and purer ages of her history, as all the other churches of Christendom, it is surely disingenuous not to admit the fact. It seems to me that thoughtful and candid persons can hardly fail to admit that as a controversial argument against the Catholic Church the less said about the British Church the better."
"Well, upon my word, my boy, I must say that my first impression—but mind, I reserve my judgment till after I have had time to reflect on the matter, read up your quotations in the original, and compare them with the context—I say my first impression is, that you have a good case, and that you have handled it very fairly. A good deal is involved in your being right or wrong in this matter; so much that, if you please, I would rather not pursue the question any further at present; but I shall not let it sleep. And now I see your cousins coming this way with their brother John. I must go and meet the old fellow, and shall treat him as if nothing had happened. I am very glad I happened to meet you yesterday; the truths you have suggested to my mind are serious ones."
"That is so," I replied, "and may they ripen in your mind and prove refreshing to your soul as they have to mine! Good-by!"
Sub Umbra
.
The hills that like billows swell clear in the dawn,
Seem heaving with conscious existence this morn;
For all the broad woods on their bosom serene
Are waving their ocean of green!
II.
How fair! Save yon cloud sailing up from the west,
Whose shadow falls dark on that bright, leafy breast
But softly 'tis rocked: while beneath it is heard,
In wood haunts, the note of the bird.
* * *
III.
O heart! in yon shadow and soft-heaving sea,
Thy God hath unfolded a lesson for thee;
For oft while reposing 'neath sunniest skies,
A cloud o'er thy rest may arise.
IV.
But when from that cloud the dark shadow shall fall,
Heave gently, heave gently though under the pall!
And 'neath the dark shadow let, sweet as the bird,
Thy low, quiet music be heard!
Richard Storrs Willis.