In a word, he finds himself in a very tight corner.
He knows, unless he is able to persuade himself of the truth of
continuity, the very ground of his faith must slip from under his
feet, and that he must give up pretending to be a member of Christ's
mystical body altogether.
No wonder there is consternation in the Anglican camp. No wonder that
sermons are preached, and history is re-edited and facts suppressed,
and pamphlets are circulated to prove that black is white and that
bitterness is sweet, and that false is true. No wonder there are shows
and pageants and other attempts to prove the thing that is not. Poor
deluded mortals! It is really pitiable to witness such straining and
such pulling at the cords; as though truth--solid, imperturbable,
eternal truth--could ever be dislodged or forced out of existence! No!
They may disguise the truth for a time, they may hide it for a brief
period; just as a child, with a box of matches and a handful of straw,
may, for awhile, hide the eternal stars. But as the stars are still
there, and will appear again when the smoke has blown away, so will
the truth reappear and assert itself, when men grow calm, and put
aside pride and passion and prejudice and self-interest.
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