Wednesday, November 29, 2017


  "A man who must separate himself from his neighbor's habits in order to be happy, is in much the same case with one who requires to take opium for the same purpose. What we want to see is one who can breast into the world, do a man's work, and still preserve his first and pure enjoyment of existence. 
  There is apt to be something unmanly, something almost dastardly, in a life that does not move with dash and freedom, and that fears the bracing contact with the world." R. L. Stevenson. 

  "It is perhaps a more fortunate destiny to have a taste for collecting shells than to be born a millionaire. Although neither is to be despised, it is always better policy to learn an interest than to make a thousand pounds; for the money will soon be spent, or perhaps you may feel no joy in spending it; but the interest remains imperishable and ever new. To become a botanist, a geologist, a social philosopher, an antiquary, or an artist, is to enlarge one's possessions in the universe by an incalculably higher degree, and by a far surer sort of property, than to purchase a farm of many acres." Robert Louis Stevenson. 

  In the following piece, Martineau gives his interpretation of John 15:15, "Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth; but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father, I have made known to you."

I'll list here a few things he said to briefly summarize his explanation of the "servant" mind -

"Considerations of self-interest, suggestions of hope and fear, appealing to that desire of happiness or rather that recoil from suffering.  The tribute of weakness to superior power, a sacrifice extorted by necessity, an acquiescence indifferently given to the decrees of an iron Fate or the laws of the divinest Providence.

 Now he describes serving Christ as "friends" in what I think is the most insightful explanation I've ever read.  

"The Son of Man does not speak to us as strangers to a voice like his: he never moves imperiously about, as among a race of spiritual serfs, who must be made to do an outside will they are not fit to comprehend. He doubtless addresses us in the imperative voice of divine right; but not till he has made the whisper of our own conscience speak in the very same tones. He pronounces, with the calmness of inspiration, on the sublimest truths; but not without transposing us into a temper which those truths evidence themselves.
His tones are directed, not to overpower, but to penetrate. He does not bear down against resistance, but touches the springs of native force. He appeals as to souls that bear kindred with his own; that secretly know the right from which, in the misery of delusion, they have turned away; that deeply love the purity and power of heart they have so sadly lost; and feel the shame and sorrow of an alienation, boasted of perhaps as freedom, but lamented with the hidden sighs of exile. He speaks as if his diviner sphere of thought created no separation, and made no difference in the free outpouring of his soul. And so it really was: he had but to be himself and live that godlike life, to become a central light of human trust, and the most enduring object of human affection." James Martineau.  


Friday, November 17, 2017


   "As I make my slow pilgrimage through the world, a certain sense of beautiful mystery seems to gather and grow. I see that many people find the world dreary, and, indeed, there must be spaces of dreariness in it for us all; some find it interesting, some surprising; some find it entirely satisfactory. But those who find it satisfactory seem to me, as a rule, to be tough, course, healthy natures, who find success attractive and food digestible: who do not trouble their heads very much about other people, but go cheerfully and optimistically on their way, closing their eyes as far as possible to things painful and sorrowful, and getting all the pleasure they can  out of material enjoyments.

Well, to speak very sincerely and humbly, such a life seems to me the worst kind of failure. It is the life that men were living in the days of Noah, and out of such lives comes nothing that is wise or useful or good. Such men leave the world as they found it, except for the fact that they have eaten a little way into it, like a mite into a cheese, and leave a track of decomposition behind them."   Arthur Benson.


  "But besides all these characteristics of art discussed, and all of its expressions, there are 'artistic temperaments' which do not express themselves in any of the recognized mediums of art, but which apply their powers direct to life itself. I do not mean successful, professional people, who win their triumphs by a happy sanity and directness of view, to who labor is congenial and success enjoyable, but I mean those who have a fine perception of quality in innumerable forms; who are interested in the salient points of others, who delight to enter into appropriate relations with those they meet, to whom life itself, its joys and sorrows, its gifts and its losses, has a certain romantic, beautiful mysterious savor. Such people have a strong sense of the significance of their relations with others; they enjoy dealing with characters, with problems, with situations. Having both interest and sympathy, they get the best out of other people; they pierce through the conventional fence that so many of us erect as a protection against intrusion."  Arthur C. Benson. 

I am moved to tears each time I see this picture and read the quote. 

Thursday, November 16, 2017



   "A transition from an author's book to his conversation, is too often like an entrance into a large city, after a distant prospect. Remotely, we see nothing but spires of temples and turrets of palaces, and imagine it the residence of splendor, grandeur, and magnificence; but, when we have passed the gates, we find it perplexed with narrow passages, disgraced with despicable cottages, embarrassed with obstructions, and clouded with smoke." Samuel Johnson.

The application is easy ... 


Wednesday, November 15, 2017


  
"Nothing is more unjust, however common, than to charge with hypocrisy him that expresses zeal for those virtues which he neglects to practice; since he may be sincerely convinced of the advantages of conquering his passions without having yet obtained the victory, as a man may be confident of the advantages of a voyage, or a journey, without having courage or industry to undertake it, and may honestly recommend to others those attempts which he neglects himself. In moral endeavors, this philosopher observed in natural enquiries; having first set positive and absolute excellence before us, we may be pardoned though we sink down to humbler virtue, trying, however, to keep our point always in view, and struggling not to lose ground, though we cannot gain it." Samuel Johnson.