Down, down on his knees fell the man of many millions, overcome by the most poignant fear and shame he had ever known. He had disbelieved! He knew it at last,--he knew that he had, for the sake of public conventionality, made mere hypocritical pretence to worship One Whose sublime teaching he outraged every day of his life, Whose commands he ignored, and Whose example he had never at any time tried to follow. And now--now! With pulses beating as though they would burst, and eyes dim with painful tears wrung from the centre of the rocky region of his heart, he sought to cover his face,--but was forced against his will to gaze, half blind and giddy as he was, on that majestic advancing Shape, which appeared to draw away all the shadows of the great cathedral and transfuse them into light. He noticed, with an extraordinary anguish, which to him was as new as it was keen, that the crowded congregation of people among whom he knelt seemed totally unaware of the shining Presence that passed them by,--and as that Presence moved slowly and silently towards the closed doors of the Abbey, he felt that he must cry out wildly:-- “Look--look! Kneel down and pray! Entreat Him not to leave us, for if He goes, why should we remain!” But all utterance was denied him. He could only watch and tremble. Slowly, very slowly, with a grand reproach expressed in every feature of its glorious Countenance, the heavenly Vision of the Crucified moved on,--the doors of the Abbey opened noiselessly, as though flung aside by invisible hands, admitting a broad shaft of winter moonlight from the outer air,--and so, never once looking back, it passed out and away from the crowded church of “Christian” worshippers, and, melting into the silvery radiance of the moon, disappeared. The doors closed darkly behind it--and black shadows drooped from the dim cathedral arches, hanging drearily over the people, and filling the aisles and chapels with a dull noxious vapour--and then with a sudden startling clangour, out rang the Bells again! The Bells! Hoarse and reproachful!--full of menace and foreboding, loneliness and despair! Such a tolling chime they gave as might fit the burial of all the faiths and aspirations of the world! They spoke of Death, not Life!--of the black grave from which all hope of resurrection had been taken,--with a sob in their savage metal throats they proclaimed the closing of the gates of Heaven!--with harsh resistance they bewailed the loss of confidence in God, of trust in the future, of comfort in sorrow--and with dismal and heavy reverberation they thundered forth “Death! Death! Death is the end of all! There shall be no Hereafter!”