XIII. "As from the blind seed springs the flower, XIV. Troubles enough there were indeed And, like one waking from a dream, I saw and, kneeling, wept for joyDeath bringing heavenly life to birth In bliss which nothing can destroy. XV. It was the night my loved one died, The night our child, who lives, was born! All night upon my knees I cried To God to change His world ere morn, "Roll back thy stars, bring back my dead, And take what else Thou wilt away; But bring not back to me," I said, "The hopeless horror of the day." XVI. I could not live, I could not die, My fate was not in my control: I only knew that this wild cry Would, with the dawn, destroy my soul, If, with that dawn, our rutted road, The same dark trees, the same dark farms Should mock me! "God, too great Thy load!" Then-round me swept the Eternal arms. XVII. That once, if never in my life Again, I felt them, as the dawn Came, with a deeper wonder rife Than aught in that old world withdrawn: I felt His love around me furled, His pity, gentle as the dew, And plucked the blind aside. The world Was changed. His earth was made anew. XVIII. A pure white mantle blotted out Gently as mercy out of heaven XIX. The trees that were so dark and bare And the road forgot its furrowed care As day forgets the night, And the new heavens and the new earth Lay robed in dazzling light. XX. And every flake that fell from heaven Or a feather fluttering from the wings Who gently leaned from that bright world XXI. Oft had I felt for some brief flash In sunsets, traced some hieroglyph XXII. But here I felt within my soul, And one was meant to bless the world, XXIII. And at the grave-side of my love What shining from Eternity! They lowered the coffin to its place, And o'er the grave the great sun smiled Full in—that lifted, laughing face, There, in the nurse's arms, the child. XXIV. Since then, the Power behind the world Some vision of the Eternal mind: XXV. The God I worshipped when a boy ALFRED NOYES. THE GREAT BETRAYAL. THE fine speech of Lord Rosebery at Shepherd's Bush, June 5, came at an opportune moment. As the utterance of a great statesman who has enjoyed the confidence of the Crown, and is still looked up to with hope by a large section of the community, it naturally drew to itself no ordinary share of public attention and admiration. Coming from one who now occupies an independent position, detached from party ties and free to speak his mind openly without regard to its effect on political connections, it possesses an additional value which the country will be quick to recognise. But over and above these general claims on our respect, it has the special and pre-eminent merit of going straight to what is the central point of interest at the present moment, with the effect of reminding us that we must allow no other question, however urgent or important, to divert our eyes from it. "We can, and we will, build Dreadnoughts." Be these our watchwords. The Government would fain draw a red herring across the trail, if they could, but this is just what they must not be allowed to do. The people of this country have often been divided in opinion on some of the most vital domestic and constitutional questions which the science of politics embraces. But there is one subject on which they have never been of two minds, and that is the welfare and honour of the British Navy. It had never entered the minds of Englishmen till quite recently that this could ever become a party question. Almost every other political or social principle must in the long run be more or less affected by party considerations. Let people say what they like about keeping this or that subject out of the party arena, the thing is inevitable. But there is, as we say, one exception; and that is our naval supremacy. Mr M'Kenna amusingly observed the other day that this ought not to be a party question. It never was so till he made it one himself. Whichever political party might for the time be uppermost, whatever Government might be in power, the people have always felt assured that this noble legacy from Elizabethan ancestors would never be robbed or tampered with. They laid their heads on their pillows in perfect confidence that here at least was a sure rock of defence placed beyond the reach of party passions. In thoughtless moments, led astray by demagogues and fanatics, they have placed Governments in power pledged to the destruction of ancient and valuable institutions and the violation of principles essential to the co hesion of society. This they have done under the influence of tempting baits and glittering falsehoods. But while yielding to these visions of a promised land, destined never to be realised, they never for one moment imagined that they were handing over power to men who would venture to strike at the foundations of their empire, or haul down the flag which has hitherto defied the world. Yet this is what has happened; and it is to the gross betrayal by the present Government of the sacred interests committed to their charge that we desire to call pointed attention. That the Government have been negligent, ignorant, and subservient to the baser doctrines of a revolutionary faction, deaf to all the generous traditions of our British patriotism, it is unnecessary to repeat. But the particular offence which invests their whole naval policy with a deeper shade of guilt requires to be set before the public in plainer terms than have hitherto been applied to it. Its real nature requires to be scanned, apart from the details by which it is necessarily encompassed, though the Government do their best to make them hide it. Our command of the sea, we cannot repeat it too often, was placed in their keeping by a too confiding nation, and they decided to abandon it. This is no ordinary case of drifting, or doubling, or any of those shifts to which a weak Government is often obliged to have recourse. In their full strength, with plenty of time for consideration, and looking the future fairly in the face, they have deliberately decided to throw overboard the one great security established and maintained by their fathers for the independence and security of Britain and of the British Empire. They have taken a deliberate step downwards— no sliding, no drifting, but a direct descent straight down from a higher level to a lower. Does the country appreciate this? Do the people understand how that this Government, entrusted with the preservation of an hereditary primacy so long and so long and so honourably maintained before the whole world, has practically ordered them to go down lower-to take a back seat? No flimsy excuses, or evasions, or misrepresentations can disguise the fact. Not the most vehement protestations can efface the knowledge of what Government intended, and, as far as we have been informed, still intend, intend, to do. They abandon our sea rampart on the pretext that the country cannot afford to keep it up, but in reality that they may have money to spend on furthering the designs of socialism, and thereby securing themselves in office for a longer term. The sacrifice of our imperial security goes hand in hand with the sacrifice of private property. Both are required to ensure the fidelity of the Prætorians on whom the Government depend. The dominion of the sea is our |