The fact that, in the preface to the popular edition of _Literature and Dogma_, he italicized those last words would appear to show that he attached some special, almost "thaumaturgical," value to them. _Miracles do not happen._ It has been justly observed that any man, woman, or child that ever lived might have said this, and have caused no startling sensation. But when Arnold uttered these words, emphasized them, and seemed to base his case against the Catholic creed upon them, it behoved his disciples to ponder them, and to enquire if, and how far, they were true. As far as we know, there never was but one human being to whom they proved overwhelming, and he is a character in a popular work of fiction. "Miracles do not happen" broke the bruised reed of the Rev. Robert Elsmere's faith. That long-legged weakling, with his auburn hair and "boyish innocence of mood," and sweet ignorance of the wicked world, went down, it will be remembered, like a ninepin before the assaults of a sceptical squire who had studied in Germany. "A great creed, with the testimony of eighteen centuries at its back, could not find an articulate word to say in its defence.... What weapons the Rector wielded for it, what strokes he struck, has not even in a single line been recorded."[50] A happily-conceived picture--was it in _Punch_?--represented the Rector on his knees before the Squire, ejaculating, with clasped hands, "Pray, pray, don't mention another German author, or I shall be obliged to resign my living." However, the ruthless Squire persisted; and Elsmere apparently read _Literature and Dogma_, and, when he came to "Miracles do not happen" he resigned; threw up his Orders, and founded what Arnold would have called "a hole-and-corner" religion of his own.