It is a proverbial truth that thunderstorms clear the air.
It is a proverbial truth that thunderstorms clear the air. And it would seem as though that eventful and terrible period of English history, known as the Wars of the Roses, had cleared the political air for the coming Reformation. How little those who took part in it realised the time to follow! To the men of that day it was either a wrestle for personal fame, or a passionate enthusiasm for the establishment of Right. To the women with whom it was not the latter, it must have been a meaningless agony—a passion with no visible end, and with no conceivable moral purpose. Alas for him who loses his faith in the providence of God, for the key of the world has dropped out of his hand. And happy are they who can calmly walk on in the dark by the side of the Father, it may be feeling the atmosphere painfully oppressive, yet willing to wait His time, and knowing that when they come forth into the light of the Golden City, they will be satisfied with it.