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And, as I said to Master Jonathan this morning, it ain't fit to overbegrudge them 'ats gone Home." I think it was the naming of that Name, in which alone we vanquish the bitter victories of death, that recalled the verse which had been floating in my head ever since that evening at the Rectory: "Jesu, spes poenitentibus, Quam pius es petentibus! Quam bonus te quaerentibus! Sed quid invenientibus!"

Quite as if they were sung in his ear, and in her very tones, he heard the words of Saint Bernard, which we have introduced to our reader: Jesu dulcis memoria, Dans vera cordi gaudia: Sed super mel et omnia Ejus dulcis praesentia. "Jesu, spes poenitentibus, Quam pius es petentibus, Quam bonus te quaerentibus, Sed quis invenientibus!"

The garden was black now in the gloaming. The reflection from the yellow light left by the sunset in the west gave an unearthly brightness to his face, and I fancied something more than common in the voice with which he quoted: "Jesu, spes poenitentibus, Quam pius es petentibus! Quam bonus te quaerentibus! Sed quid invenientibus!"

We style it a bare accident, but where it subsists alone it is a spiritual substance, and may be an angel: in brief, conceive light invisible, and that is a spirit. I could never pass that sentence of Paracelsus, without an asterisk, or annotation; Ascendens constellatum multa revelat, quaerentibus magnalia naturae, i.e. opera Dei.