Daily Thoughts Part 2

_Saint's Tragedy_, Act ii. Scene vi.

1847.

Beauty a Sacrament. January 19.

Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful. Beauty is G.o.d's handwriting--a way-side sacrament; welcome it in every fair face, every fair sky, every fair flower, and thank Him for it, who is the Fountain of all loveliness, and drink it in simply and earnestly with all your eyes; it is a charmed draught, a cup of blessing.

_True Words to Brave Men_. 1844.

The Ideal of Rank. January 20.

With Christianity came in the thought that domination meant responsibility, that responsibility demanded virtue. The words which denoted Rank came to denote, likewise, high moral excellencies. The _n.o.bilis_, or man who was known, and therefore subject to public opinion, was bound to behave n.o.bly. The gentle-man--gentile-man--who respected his own gens, or family, or pedigree, was bound to be gentle. The courtier who had picked up at court some touch of Roman civilisation from Roman ecclesiastics was bound to be courteous. He who held an "honour,"

or "edel" of land, was bound to be honourable; and he who held a "weorthig," or "worthy," thereof, was bound himself to be worthy.

_Lectures on Ancien Regime_. 1866.

An Indulgent G.o.d. January 21.

A merely indulgent G.o.d would be an unjust G.o.d, and a cruel G.o.d likewise.

If G.o.d be just, as He is, then He has boundless pity for those who are weak, but boundless wrath for the strong who misuse the weak. Boundless pity for those who are ignorant, misled, and out of the right way; but boundless wrath for those who mislead them and put them out of the right way.

_Discipline Sermons_. 1867.

The Fifty-First Psalm. January 22.

It is such utterances as these which have given for now many hundred years their priceless value to the little Book of Psalms ascribed to the shepherd outlaw of the Judean hills, which have sent the sound of his name into all lands throughout all the world. Every form of human sorrow, doubt, struggle, error, sin--the nun agonising in the cloister; the settler struggling for his life in Transatlantic forests; the pauper shivering over the embers in his hovel and waiting for kind death; the man of business striving to keep his honour pure amid the temptations of commerce; the prodigal son starving in the far country and recollecting the words which he learnt long ago at his mother's knee; the peasant boy trudging afield in the chill dawn and remembering that the Lord is his Shepherd, therefore he will not want--all shapes of humanity have found, and will find to the end of time, a word said here to their inmost hearts. . . .

_Sermons on David_. 1866.

Waiting for Death. January 23.

Death, beautiful, wise, kind Death, when will you come and tell me what I want to know? I courted you once and many a time, brave old Death, only to give rest to the weary. That was a coward's wish--and so you would not come. . . . I was not worthy of you. And now I will not hunt you any more, old Death. Do you bide your time, and I mine. . . . Only when you come, give me not rest but work. Give work to the idle, freedom to the chained, sight to the blind!

_Two Years Ago_, chap. xv. 1856.

The One Refuge. January 24.

Safe! There is no safety but from G.o.d, and that comes by prayer and faith.

_Hypatia_. 1852.

Future Ident.i.ty. January 25.

I believe that the union of those who have loved here will in the next world amount to perfect ident.i.ty, that they will look back on the expressions of affection here as mere meagre strugglings after and approximation to the union which then will be perfect. Perfect!

_Letters and Memories_. 1842.

Friendship. January 26.

A friend once won need never be lost, if we will be only trusty and true ourselves. Friends may part, not merely in body, but in spirit, for a while. In the bustle of business and the accidents of life, they may lose sight of each other for years; and more, they may begin to differ in their success in life, in their opinions, in their habits, and there may be, for a time, coldness and estrangement between them, but not for ever if each will be trusty and true. For then they will be like two ships who set sail at morning from the same port, and ere night-fall lose sight of each other, and go each on its own course and at its own pace for many days, through many storms and seas, and yet meet again, and find themselves lying side by side in the same haven when their long voyage is past.

_Water of Life Sermons_.

Night and Morning. January 27.

It is morning somewhere or other now, and it will be morning here again to-morrow. "Good times and bad times and all times pa.s.s over." I learnt that lesson out of old Bewick's Vignettes, and it has stood me in good stead this many a year.

_Two Years Ago_, chap. i. 1856.

Communion with the Blessed Dead. January 28.

Shall we not recollect the blessed dead above all in Holy Communion, and give thanks for them there--at that holy table at which the Church triumphant and the Church militant meet in the communion of saints? Where Christ is they are; and, therefore, if Christ be there, may not they be there likewise? May not they be near us though unseen? like us claiming their share in the eternal sacrifice, like us partaking of that spiritual body and blood which is as much the life of saints in heaven as it is of penitent sinners on earth? May it not be so? It is a mystery into which we will not look too far. But this at least is true, that they are with Him where He is.

_MS. Sermon_.

The Great Law. January 29.