their magnitudes, but these
distances and these dimensions are a delusion. There is nothing grander
in Sirius than in a pebble, nor anything more worthy of admiration and
astonishment in his remoteness than in the length of Oxford Street. The
true sublime is in the self-negation of the martyr, and it became doubly
magnificent in the case of Michael, who was willing not merely to give up
a finite existence for something other than himself--to be shot and so
end, or to be burnt with a hope of following glory--but to submit for
ever to separation and torment, if only he might shield his child from
God's displeasure. It may be objected that such a resolution is
impossible. Doubtless it is now altogether incredible; but it is so
because we no longer know what religion means, or what is the effect
produced upon the mind by the constant study of one book and a perfectly
unconditional belief in it. Furthermore, as before said, Michael never
corrected himself or preserved his sanity by constant intercourse with
his fellows. He incessantly brooded, and the offspring of a soul like
his, begotten on itself, is monstrous and grotesque. He questioned
himself and his oracle further. What could Paul mean exactly? God could
not curse him if he did no wrong. He could only mean that he was willing
to sin and be punished provided Israel might live. It was lawful then to
tell a lie or perpetrate any evil deed in order to protect his child.
Something suddenly crossed his mind; what it was we shall see later on.
And yet the thought was too awful. He could not endure to sin, not only
against his Creator, but against his boy. Perhaps God might pardon him
after centuries of suffering; and yet He could not. The gates of hell
having once closed upon him, there could be no escape. He struggled in
agony, until at last he determined that, first of all, he would speak to
Robert, although he knew it would be useless. He would conquer the
strange dread he had of remonstrance, and then, if that failed, he
would--do anything.

On the Sabbath following, as they came out of the meeting-house in the
evening, Michael proposed to Robert that they should walk down to the
shore. It was a very unusual proposal, for walking on the Sabbath, save
to and from the means of grace, was almost a crime, and Robert assented,
not without some curiosity and even alarm. The two went together in
silence till they came to the deserted shore. The sun had set b