talks over his wine. Gigadibs is an agnostic and cannot understand how a
man of Blougram's fine intellectual and artistic perceptions is able so
implicitly to believe in Catholic doctrine. Blougram's apology for
himself amounts to this,--that he does not believe with absolute
certainty any more than does Gigadibs; but, on the other hand, Gigadibs
does not disbelieve with absolute certainty, so Blougram's state is one
of belief shaken occasionally by doubt, while Gigadibs is one of
unbelief shaken by fits of belief.

BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY

. . . . . . .

Now come, let's backward to the starting place.
See my way: we're two college friends, suppose.
Prepare together for our voyage, then;
Each note and check the other in his work,--
There's mine, a bishop's outfit; criticize!
What's wrong? why won't you be a bishop too?

What first, you don't believe, you don't, and can't,
(Not statedly, that is, and fixedly
And absolutely and exclusively)
In any revelation called divine.
No dogmas nail your faith; and what remains
But say so, like the honest man you are?
First, therefore, overhaul theology!
Nay, I too, not a fool, you please to think,
Must find believing every whit as hard:
And if I do not frankly say as much,
The ugly consequence is clear enough.

Now wait, my friend: well, I do not believe--
If you'll accept no faith that is not fixed,
Absolute and exclusive, as you say.
You're wrong--I mean to prove it in due time.
Meanwhile, I know where difficulties lie
I could not, cannot solve, nor ever shall,
So give up hope accordingly to solve--
(To you, and over the wine). Our dogmas then
With both of us, though in unlike degree,
Missing full credence--overboard with them!
I mean to meet you on your own premise:
Good, there go mine in company with yours!

And now what are we? unbelievers both,
Calm and complete, determinately fixed
To-day, to-morrow and forever, pray?
You'll guarantee me that? Not so, I think!
In no wise! all we've gained is, that belief.
As unbelief before, shakes us by fits,
Confounds us like its predecessor. Where's
The gain? how can we guard our unbelief,
Make it bear fruit to us?--the problem here.
Just when we are safest, there's a sunset touch,
A fancy from a flower-bell, some one's death,
A