ifer, and
Burger of the Resurrection of Death unto Death--while even Puritan
Scotland and Episcopal Anglia produce for us only these three minstrels
of doubtful tone, who show but small respect for the "unco guid," put
but limited faith in gifted Gilfillan, and translate with unflinching
frankness the _Morgante Maggiore_.[74]

55. Dismal the aspect of the spiritual world, or at least the sound of
it, might well seem to the eyes and ears of Saints (such as we had) of
the period--dismal in angels' eyes also assuredly! Yet is it possible
that the dismalness in angelic sight may be otherwise quartered, as it
were, from the way of mortal heraldry; and that seen, and heard, of
angels,--again I say--hesitatingly--_is_ it possible that the goodness
of the Unco Guid, and the gift of Gilfillan, and the word of Mr.
Blattergowl, may severally not have been the goodness of God, the gift
of God, nor the word of God: but that in the much blotted and broken
efforts at goodness, and in the careless gift which they themselves
despised,[75] and in the sweet ryme and murmur of their unpurposed
words, the Spirit of the Lord had, indeed, wandering, as in chaos days
on lightless waters, gone forth in the hearts and from the lips of those
other three strange prophets, even though they ate forbidden bread by
the altar of the poured-out ashes, and even though the wild beast of the
desert found them, and slew.

This, at least, I know, that it had been well for England, though all
her other prophets, of the Press, the Parliament, the Doctor's chair,
and the Bishop's throne, had fallen silent; so only that she had been
able to understand with her heart here and there the simplest line of
these, her despised.

56. I take one at mere chance:

"Who thinks of self, when gazing on the sky?"[76]

Well, I don't know; Mr. Wordsworth certainly did, and observed, with
truth, that its clouds took a sober coloring in consequence of his
experiences. It is much if, indeed, this sadness be unselfish, and our
eyes _have_ kept loving watch o'er Man's Mortality. I have found it
difficult to make anyone nowadays believe that such sobriety can be; and
that Turner saw deeper crimson than others in the clouds of Goldau. But
that any should yet think the clouds brightened by Man's _Im_mortality
instead of dulled by his death,--and, gazing on the sky, look for the
day when every eye must gaze also--for behold, He cometh with
clouds--this it is no more possible for