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| Charles Kingsley
"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
Across the sands o' Dee;"
The western wind was wild and dank wi' foam
And all alone went she.
"This is my world
And I am the world leader pretend
This is my life
And this is my time
I have been given the freedom
To do as I see fit."
A blessed thing it is for any man or woman to have a friend, one human soul whom we can trust utterly, who knows the best and worst of us, and who loves us in spite of all our faults. All but God is changing day by day.
All we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about.All who have travelled through the delicious scenery of North Devon must needs know the little white town of Bideford, which slopes upwards from its broad tide-river paved with yellow sands, and many-arched old bridge, where salmon wait for Autumn floods, toward the pleasant upland on the west.
And how high is Christ's cross? As high as the highest heaven, and the throne of God, and the bosom of the Father--that bosom out of which forever proceed all created things. Ay, as high as the highest heaven! for--if you will receive it--when Christ hung upon the cross, heaven came down on earth, and earth ascended into heaven.
And so make life, death, and that vast forever One grand sweet song. And we shall be made truly wise if we be content; content, too, not only with what we can understand, but content with what we do not understand--the habit of mind which theologians call--and rightly--faith in God.
And what is the joy of Christ? The joy and delight which springs forever in His great heart, from feeling that He is forever doing good; from loving all, and living for all; from knowing that if not all, yet millions on millions are grateful to Him and will be forever.
As we pledge the health of our general, who fares as rough as we,
What can daunt us, what can turn us, led to death by such as he?
Ay, marriage is the life-long miracle,
The self-begetting wonder, daily fresh.
Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;
Do noble things, not dream them all day long;
And so make life, death, and that vast forever,
One grand, sweet song.
Being forced to work, and forced to do your best, will breed in you temperance and self-control, diligence and strength of will, cheerfulness and content, and a hundred virtues which the idle will never know. Changeless march the stars above,
Changeless morn succeeds to even;
And the everlasting hills,
Changeless watch the changeless heaven.
Cheerfulness is full of significance; it suggests good health, a clear conscience, and a soul at peace with all human nature.
Depend upon it, a man never experiences such pleasure or grief after fourteen years as he does before, unless in some cases, in his first lovemaking, when the sensation is new to him.
Do noble things, not dream them all day long.
Do to-day's duty, fight to-day's temptation; and do not weaken and distract yourself by looking forward to things which you cannot see, and could not understand if you saw them.
Down and back at day dawn,
Tramp from lake to lake,
Washing brain and heart clean
Every step we take.
Leave to Robert Browning
Beggars, fleas, and vines;
Leave to mournful Ruskin
Popish Apennines,
Dirty stones of Venice,
And his gas lamps seven,
We've the stones of Snowdon
And the lamps of heaven.
Duty--the command of heaven, the eldest voice of God.
Every winter, When the great sun has turned his face away, The earth goes down into a vale of grief, And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables, Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay-- Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses. Except a living man there is nothing more wonderful than a book! a message to us from the dead -- from human souls we never saw, who lived, perhaps, thousands of miles away. And yet these, in those little sheets of paper, speak to us, arouse us, terrify us, teach us, comfort us, open their hearts to us as brothers.Feelings are like chemicals, the more you analyze them the worse they smell.For men must work and women must weep,
And the sooner it's over the sooner to sleep,
And good-bye to the bar and its moaning.
For science is . . . like virtue, its own exceeding great reward.
Grandeur . . . consists in form, and not in size: and to the eye of the philosopher, the curve drawn on a paper two inches long, is just as magnificent, just as symbolic of divine mysteries and melodies, as when embodied in the span of some cathedral roof.
He was one of those men who possess almost every gift, except the gift of the power to use them.
High in the home of the summers, the seats of the happy immortals,
Shrouded in knee-deep blaze, unapproachable; there ever youthful
Hebe, Harmonie, and the daughter of Jove, Aphrodite,
Whirled in the white-linked dance, with the gold-crowned Hours and Graces.
I am a Cockney among Cockneys.
I am not aware that payment, or even favors, however gracious, bind any man's soul and conscience in questions of highest morality and highest importance.
I have fought my fight, I have lived my life,
I have drunk my share of wine;
From Trier to Colin there was never a knight
Let a merrier life than mine.
If the American dream is for Americans only, it will remain our dream
and never be our destiny.
In the four hundred and thirteenth year of the Christian era, some three hundred miles above Alexandria, the young monk Philammon was sitting on the edge of a low range of inland cliffs, crested with drifting sand.
It is not enough to have a good mind. The main thing is to use it
well.
It is only the great hearted who can be true friends. The mean and cowardly, Can never know what true friendship means.Men must work, and women must weep.
My friends, let us try to follow the Saviour's steps; let us remember all day long what it is to be men; that it is to have every one whom we meet for our brother in the sight of God; that it is this, never to meet anyone, however bad he may be, for whom we cannot say: "Christ died for that man, and Christ cares for him still. He is precious in God's eyes, and he shall be precious in mine also."
Night's son was driving
His golden-haired horses up;
Over the eastern firths
High flashed their manes.
Nothing like one honest look, one honest thought of Christ upon His cross. That tells us how much He has been through, how much He endured, how much He conquered, how much God loved us, who spared not His only begotten Son, but freely gave Him for us. Dare we doubt such a God? Dare we murmur against such a God?
Now, to tell my story--if not as it ought to be told, at least as I can tell it,--I must go back sixteen years, to the days when Whitbury boasted of forty coaches per diem, instead of one railway, and set forth how in its southern suburb, there stood two pleasant house side by side, with their gardens sloping down to the Whit, and parted from each other only by the high brick fruit-wall, through which there used to be a door of communication; for the two occupiers were fast friends.
Oh! 'tis easy
To beget great deeds; but in the rearing of them--
The threading in cold blood each mean detail,
And furze brake of half-pertinent circumstance--
There lies the self-denial.
Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing,
In the shade of the whispering trees.
Our wanton accidents take root, and grow
To vaunt themselves God's laws.
Pain is no evil, unless it conquers us.
Possession means to sit astride the world
Instead of having it astride of you.
See the land, her Easter keeping,
Rises as her Maker rose;
Seeds so long in darkness sleeping
Burst at last from winter snows.
Earth with heaven above rejoices;
Fields and garlands hail the spring;
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices
While the wild birds build and sing.
Some say that the age of chivalry is past, that the spirit of romance is dead. The age of chivalry is never past so long as there is a wrong left unredressed on earth.
Still the race of hero spirits pass the lamp from hand to hand.
Thank God every morning when you get up that you have something to do that day which must be done, whether you like it or not.
The men whom I have seen succeed best in life always have been cheerful and hopeful men; who went about their business with a smile on their faces; and took the changes and chances of this mortal life like men; facing rough and smooth alike as it came. The western tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see
The rolling mist came down and hid the land:
And never home came she.
The world goes up and the world goes down,
And the sunshine follows the rain;
And yesterday's sneer and yesterday's frown
Can never come over again,
Sweet wife.
No, never come over again.
There are two freedoms - the false, where a man is free to do what he likes; the true, where he is free to do what he ought.This is eternal life; a life of everlasting love, showing itself in everlasting good works; and whosoever lives that life, he lives the life of God, and hath eternal life.
Tho' we earn our bread, Tom,
By the dirty pen,
What we can we will be,
Honest Englishmen.
Do the work that's nearest
Though it's dull at whiles,
Helping, when we meet them,
Lame dogs over stiles.
Those clouds are angels' robes.--That fiery west
Is paved with smiling faces.
Three fishers went sailing away to the west,
Away to the west as the sun went down;
Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,
And the children stood watching them out of the town.
To be discontented with the divine discontent, and to be ashamed with the noble shame, is the very germ of the first upgrowth of all virtue.
We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements in life, when all that we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about.We have used the Bible as if it were a mere special constable's handbook, an opium dose for keeping beasts of burden patient while they are overloaded.We ought to reverence books, to look at them as useful and mighty things. If they are good and true, whether they are about religion or politics, farming, trade, or medicine, they are the message of Christ, the maker of all things, the teacher of all truth.
We shall be made truly wise if we be made content; content, too, not only with what we can understand, but content with what we do not understand,--the habit of mind which theologians call, and rightly, faith its God.
When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen;
Then hey, for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.
Young blood must have its course, lad, and every dog its day. |
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