"Love is clutched at in preference to the laborious process of changing from within."
Karen Horney.

I think this may be one of the most common faults of youth. We fail in relationships, sometimes over and over again, but instead of looking within and confronting our faults, we "fall in love" again, caught up in the universal acceptance that comes with a romantic flurry.

"We learn our virtues from the friends who love us, our faults from the enemy who hates us.
We can not easily discover our real character from a friend, He is a mirror, on which the warmth of our breath impedes the clearness of the reflection." Jean Paul Richter

"The greatest object in the universe, says a certain philosopher, is a good man struggling with adversity"; yet there is still a greater,
which is the good man that comes to relieve it. Oliver Goldsmith

I think the best word picture I ever saw of this is in the movie "Bear" where the huge male grizzly comes to the rescue of the cub assaulted by a cougar.

Drunk with Fancy and mad with opinion

Every man who, by his opinion, is engaged against authority, should do well to study his doubtful opinion less, and humility and obedience more. But you say, that this concerns not me; for my disagreeing is not in a doubtful matter, but I am sure I am in the right; there are no ifs and ands in my case. Well, it may be so; but were it not better that you did doubt? “ A wise man feareth,” saith Solomon,
“ And departeth from evil; but a fool rageth and is confident:” and the difference between a learned man and a novice is this, that the young fellow crieth out,
“I am sure it is so;” the better learned answers “Possibly it may, and peradventure it is so, but I pray inquire:” “He is the best judge that conjectures the best,” not he that is most confident; for as Xenophanes said wisely, “ Man does but conjecture, but God only knows.” It is no disparagement to a wise man to learn, and, by suspecting the fallibility of things, and his own aptness to mistake,-- to walk prudently and safely, with an eye to God, and an ear open to his superior. Some men are drunk with fancy, and mad with opinion. Who believes more strongly than boys? Who are so hard to be persuaded as fools? And who so readily suspect their teachers as they who are governed by chance, and know not the intrinsic measures of good and evil. “It is a little learning and not enough, that makes men conclude hastily.” And clap fast hold on the conclusion, before they have well weighed the premises; but experience and humility would teach us modesty and fear.” Jeremy Taylor

I like this piece because I see so much of myself in it, especially when I was young. Not that I don't fall prey to "drunken fancy and mad opinions" still. But with age and being the fool one to many times, I have learned to slow it down a bit and listen more.

Illiterate Phantasms

"There is in every righteous person, a new vital principle; the Spirit of grace is the Spirit of wisdom, and teaches us by secret inspirations, by proper arguments, by actual persuasions, by personal applications, by effects and energies; and as the soul of a man is the cause of all his vital operations, so is the Spirit of God the life of that life, and the cause of all actions and productions spiritual: and the consequences of this is what St. John tells us of, “Ye have received the unction from above, and that anointing teacheth you all things:” All things of some one kind; that is, certainly—all things that pertain to life and godliness; all that by which a man is wise and happy…..
Without this principle, divers fanatics, some among us, misunderstanding, look for new revelations, and expect to be conducted by ecstasy, and will not pray but in a transfiguration, and live upon raptures and extravagant expectations, and separate themselves, from the conversations of men, by affections, by new measures and singularities, and destroy order, and despise government, and live upon illiterate phantasms and ignorant discourses." Jeremy Taylor

I like this piece because of the balance I get from it. The first part speaks to the moving of the Holy Spirit by His "secret inspirations, proper arguments, (He deals with the issues of highest priority and speaks clearly) actual persuasions, and personal application", and wraps it up in highly motivating "energies". But when I was a young Christian I was easily misled sometimes by "new revelations"wraped in clouds and high level spirituality by those that presented themselves as dining on raptures and ecstasy. Now those that know me know I am open to and greedy for, the wonders of God and His mystical ways. That being said, had it not been for bread and butter teachings I should have long since been lost in a sea of confusion.

"If sin hath gotten the power of any one of us, consider in what degree the sin hath prevailed;
if but a little, the battle will be more easy, and the victory more certain; but then be sure to do it thoroughly, because there is not much to be done; but if sin hath prevailed greatly, then indeed you have very much to do; therefore begin betimes, and defer not this work, till old age shall make it extremely difficult, or death shall make it impossible."
Jeremy Taylor

Charity, admits no excess but error.

We are all familiar with the passage where Jesus tells the disciples to sell all that they have and give to the poor. I like the following interpretation by Bacon....
"Sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor, and follow me"--- that is, sell not all thou hast, except thou come and follow me-- that is, except thou have a vocation wherein thou mayest do as much good with little means as with great-- for otherwise, in feeding the streams, thou driest the fountains.

Comments on " charity, admits no excess but error" by Whately.

Bacon is speaking here of what is now called benevolence and his remark is very just, that it admits of no excess in quantity, though it may be misdirected and erroneous. For if your liberality be such as to reduce your family to poverty, or-- like the killing of the hen that laid golden eggs-- such as to put it out of your power hereafter to be liberal at all; or if it be bestowed on the undeserving; this is rather to be accounted an unwise and misdirected benevolence than an excess of it in quantity.....
For there can be no doubt that careless, indiscriminate alms-giving does far more harm than good; since it encourages idleness and improvidence, and also imposture. If you give freely to ragged and filthy street beggars, you are in fact hiring people to dress themselves in filthy rags, and go about begging with fictitious tales of distress. If, on the contrary, you carefully inquire for, and relieve, honest and industrious persons who have fallen into distress through unavoidable misfortune, you are not only doing good to those objects, but also holding out an encouragement generally to honest industry.
You may, however, meet with persons who say, "as long as it is my intention to relieve real distress, my charity is equally virtuous, though the tale told me may be a false one. The imposter alone is to be blamed who told it to me; I acted on what he said; and if that is untrue, the fault is his and not mine."
Now, this is a fair plea, if any one is deceived after making a careful inquiry; but if he has not taken the trouble to do this, regarding it as no concern of his, you might ask him how he would act and judge in a case where he is thoroughly in earnest , that is, where his own interest is concerned. Suppose he employed a steward or other agent to buy for him a house, or a horse, or any other article, and this agent paid an exorbitant price for what was really worth little or nothing, giving just the same kind of excuse for allowing his employer to be thus cheated; saying,
'I made no careful inquiries, but took the seller's word; and his being a liar and a cheat, is his fault, and not mine;' the employer would doubtless reply, 'the seller indeed is to be condemned for cheating; but so are you, for your carelessness of my interests. His being greatly in fault does not clear you; and your merely intending to do what was right, is no excuse for your not taking pains to gain right information.'

I like and agree with what is being said here, but there are times when careful inquiry is impossible and in those circumstances I react on emotion, a tugging, a judgment or some other difficult to describe feeling.

Atheists, ever handling holy things, but without feelings....

Love and Passion

I've been reading an essay by Bacon on Love. It covers many aspects but I'll just share some on passion and wanton love.

"...As if man, made for the contemplation of heaven, and all nobel objects, should do nothing but kneel before a little idol, and make himself subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts are), yet of the eye, which was given him for higher purposes."

when I read that, the part that stuck out to me is "makes himself subject.... of the eye"
In the previous essay on Envy, he made a statement, that to me, dovetails with this one.

"A man that is busy and inquisitive is commonly envious; for to know much of other men's matters cannot be because all that ado may concern his own estate; therefore it must needs be that he taketh a kind of play-pleasure in looking upon the fortunes of others; neither can he that mindeth but his own business find much matter for envy; for envy is a gadding passion, and walketh the streets, and doth not keep home...."

In the context of "wanton love" the connection I saw was in--" being subject to the eye, and taking a play-pleasure in looking on others, with a gadding passion which walketh the streets and doth not keep home."

There was another line I liked and lived regarding passion;-- "This passion hath its floods in the very times of weakness, which are great prosperity and great adversity."

That made me think of times when people are going through marital problems, or teens that are dealing with serious issues etc., find what they think to be love, or passion, that comes in like a flood during these times of weakness. It seems the antidote but often ends as the poison.
Can you relate?

And lastly, "Nuptial love maketh mankind; friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth and embaseth it."

Mercy

" We may imitate the Diety in all His moral attributes, but mercy is the only one in which we can pretend to equal him. -- We cannot, indeed, give like God, but surely we may forgive like him."
Sterne.

Gay colors

" If a woman wears gay colors, rouge and a startling hat, a man hestitates to take her out. If she wears a little turban and a tailored suit he takes her out and stares all evening at a woman in gay colors, rouge and a startling hat!" -- Baltimore Beacon.

100 years ago what was considered bold has changed, but the heart of man is the same.
Is there any hope for us?

"Witching Time"

“It is now the very witching time of night; when churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood and do such business as the bitter day would quake to look on!” – Shakespeare.

Now that you have read this graphic quote, and I'm curious to know what it brings to your mind; it reminded me first of the warning I gave to someone that kept late hours and slept long into the day. I cautioned them that after about 11:00 at night it is rare that much good is done. And on looking at my life, if I were able to erase all the transgressions committed after eleven, my condition would be much improved. Then I began to try and apply this as a metaphor for the souls condition. What do you think?

Now the opposite direction, I could not recall the name the Puritans give for Midnight revelations, but the following quote follows their thought.
“ This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, and wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.” -- Anna L. Barbauld.

Christian Unity?

While visiting Eric, Christian asked why there are so many denominations. When I read this piece I thought it brought some light to his question.

Christian Unity
“It is very important to have a clear notion of the nature of the Christian unity spoken of in the Scriptures, and to understand in what this ‘true bond of unity’ consists, so often alluded to and earnestly dwelt on by our Sacred Writers.
The unity they speak of does not mean agreement in doctrine, nor yet concord and mutual good will; though these are strongly insisted on by the apostles. Nor, again, does it mean that all Christians belong, or ought to belong to some one society on earth. This is what the apostles never aimed at, and what never was actually the state of things, from the time of Jerusalem. The Church is undoubtedly one, and so is the human race one; but not as a society or community, for, as such, it is only one when considered as to its future existence. The teaching of Scripture clearly is, that believers on earth are part of a great society (church or congregation) of which the Head is in heaven, and of which many of the members only ‘live unto God’, or exist in his counsels,-- some having long since departed, and some being not yet born. The universal Church of Christ may therefore be said to be One in reference to HIM, its supreme Head in heaven; but it is not one community on earth. And even so the human race is one in respect of the One Creator and Governor; but this does not make it one family or one state. And though all men are bound to live in peace, and to be kindly disposed towards every fellow creature, and all bound to agree in thinking and doing whatever is right, yet they are not at all bound to live under one single government, extending over the whole world. Nor, again, are all nations bound to have the same form of government, regal or republican, etc. That is a matter left to their discretion. But all are bound to do their best to promote the great objects from which all government is instituted, -- good order, justice, and public prosperity.
And even so the Apostles founded Christian churches, all based on the same principles, all sharing common privileges,-- ‘One Lord, one faith, one baptism,’ – and all having the same object in view, but all quite independent of each other. And while, by the inspiration of Him who knew what was in Man, they delineated those Christian principles which Man could not have devised for himself, each Church has been left, by the same divine foresight, to make the application of those principles in its symbols, its forms of worship, and its ecclesiastical regulations; and, while steering its course by the chart and compass which his holy Word supplies, to regulate for itself the sails and rudder, according to the winds and currents it may meet with.
Now I have little doubt that the sort of variation resulting from this independence and freedom, so far from breaking the bond, is the best preservative of it. A number of neighboring families, living in perfect unity, will be thrown into discord as soon as you compel them to form one family, and to observe in things intrinsically indifferent, the same rules. One, for instance, likes early hours, and another late; one likes the windows open, and another shut; and thus, by being brought too close together, they are driven into ill-will, by one being perpetually forced to give way to another. Of this character were the disputations which arose about church music, the posture of the communicants, the colors of a ministers dress, the time of keeping Easter, etc.” Richard Whately, D.D.

"What is truth? said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer."

While visiting Eric, we went to a book store and I beat him, by a hairs-breadth, to a book on Bacon’s Essays annotated by Richard Whately, D.D. Archbishop of Dublin, who I have never heard of but really like his thoughts. The previous post came from that book. This piece I thought I’d share, is on truth.

“There is not necessarily any moral virtue in receiving truth; for it may happen that our interest, or our wishes, are in the same direction; or it may be forced upon us by evidence as irresistible as that of a mathematical demonstration. The virtue consists in being a sincere votary of Truth;-- what our Lord calls being ‘of the Truth,’ – rejecting ‘the hidden things of dishonesty,’ and carefully guarding against every undue bias. Every one wishes to have Truth on his side; but it is not every one that sincerely wishes to be on the side of Truth.”

I find this somewhat troubling because I see in myself a love for Truth and knowledge, a hunger for the mysteries of God, but the living up to those is sadly lacking.
Acts 17:21
All the Athenians and the foreigners who live there, spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas.

There may be Athenian blood in me. I would be happy to apply one tenth of what I read, truth is I would do well to apply one tenth of what I learned in my first year as a christian.
I hope it's like nutritious food, it keeps you from disease but only by continual consumption.
That being said, when a season comes where I have no appetite, then I know I'm in peril.

Ichmeumonflies

Most persons know that every butterfly (the Greek name for which, it is remarkable, is the same that signifies also the Soul,- Psyche ) comes from a caterpillar or larvae. The last name which signifies literally a mask, was introduced by Linnaeus, because the caterpillar is a kind of outward covering, or disguise of the future butterfly within. For it has been ascertained by curious microscopic examination, that a distinct butterfly, only undeveloped and not full-grown, is contained within the body of the caterpillar; that this latter has its own organs of digestion, respiration, etc. suitable to its larva-life, quite distinct from and independent of the future butterfly which it encloses. When the proper period arrives, and the life of the insect, in this its first stage, is to close, it becomes what is called a pupa, enclosed in a chrysalis or cocoon and lies torpid for a time within this natural coffin, from which it issues, at the proper period, as a perfect butterfly.
But sometimes this process is marred. There is a numerous tribe of insects well known to naturalists, called Ichmeumonflies; which in their larva-state are parasitical; that is, inhabit, and feed on, other larvae. The fly being provided with a long sharp sting, which is in fact an ovipositor (egg layer) pierces with this the body of a caterpillar in several places, and deposits her eggs, which are there hatched, and feed, as larvae on the inward parts of their victim. A most wonderful circumstance connected with this process is that a caterpillar which has been thus attached goes on feeding, and apparently thriving quite as well, during the whole of its larva-life, as those that have escaped. For, by a wonderful provision of instinct, the ichneumon-larvae within do not injure any of the organs of the larva, but feed only on the future butterfly enclosed within it. And consequently, it is hardly possible to distinguish a caterpillar which has these enemies within it from those that are untouched.--- But when the period arrives for the close of the larva-life, the difference appears…..Of the unfortunate caterpillar that has been preyed upon, nothing remains but an empty skin. The hidden butterfly has been secretly consumed.
Now is there not something analogous to this wonderful phenomenon, in the condition of some of our race? May not, a man have a kind of secret enemy within his own bosom, destroying his soul—Psyche,--- though without interfering with his well-being during the present stage of his existence; and whose presence may never be detected till the time arrives when the last great change should take place?

“It is only in a long life, that time is afforded us to complete anything, to learn anything thoroughly, or to reform oneself.” Author unknown

Let me live out my years

I like this --

We speak of the comforts and ease of old age, but our noblest selves do not really desire them. We want to do more than exist, we want to be alive to the very last.

Let me live out my years in heat of blood!
Let me die drunken with the dreamer's wine!
Let me not see this soul-house built of mud
Go toppling to the dust-- a vacant shrine!

Let me go quickly like a candle light
Snuffed out just at the heyday of its glow!
Give me high noon-- and let it then be night!
Thus would I go.

And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may triumph down the gray Perhaps!
Let me be as a tuneswept fiddlestring
That feels the Master Melody-- and snaps.
John G. Neihardt

Will work for food

My cousin Jim sent me a touching story about a corner panhandler.
Made me think of this poem.


There are songs enough for the hero
who dwells on the heights of fame;
I sing for the disappointed-
for those who have missed their aim.

I sing with a tearful cadence
for the one who stands in the dark,
and knows that his last, best arrow
has bounded back from the mark.

I sing for the breathless runner,
the eager, anxious soul,
who falls with his strength exhausted,
almost in sight of the goal;

For the hearts that break in silence,
with a sorrow all unknown,
for those who need companions,
yet walk their ways alone.

There are songs enough for the lovers
who share love's tender pain,
I sing for the one whose passion
is given all in vain.

For those whose spirit comrades
have missed them on their way,
I sing, with a heart o'flowing,
this minor strain today.

And I know the Solar system
must somewhere keep in space
a prize for that spent runner
who barely lost the race.

For the plan would be imperfect
unless it held some sphere
that paid for the toil and talent
and love that are wasted here.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A Teaspoonful of Calf's-foot Jelly

I have been reading T.Dewitt Talmage and this chapter is on recreation and the blessings and the temptations of vacations. The “watering place” he refers to is a resort where we go to relax and get away. He gives a series of warnings and his colorful style just had to be shared. I agree with his premise but have to laugh at his descriptions. Enjoy—

“ Another temptation hovering around the watering place is to the formation of hasty and lifelong alliances. The watering places are responsible for more of the domestic infelicities of this country than all other causes combined. Society is so artificial there that no sure judgment of character can be formed. Those who form companionships amid such circumstances go into a lottery where there are twenty blanks to one prize. In the severe tug of life you want more than glitter and flash. Life is not a ballroom where the music decides the step; nor can bow and prance and graceful swing of long trail make up for strong common sense. You might as well go among the gaily painted yachts of a summer regatta to find war vessels as to go among the light spray of the summer watering place to find character that can stand the test of the great struggle of human life.
Ah, in the battle of life you want a stronger weapon than a lace fan or a croquet mallet!
The load of life is so heavy that in order to draw it, you want a team stronger than one made up of a masculine grasshopper and a feminine butterfly.
If there is any man in the community who excited my contempt, and who ought to excite the contempt of ever man and woman, it is the soft-handed, soft-headed fop, who, perfumed until the air is actually sick, spends his summer in taking killing attitudes, and waving sentimental adieus, and talking infinitesimal nothings, and finding his heaven in the fit of a lavender kid-glove. Boots as tight as an inquisition; two hours of consummate skill exhibited in the tie of a flaming cravat; his conversation made up of “Ahs,” and “Ohs,” and “He-hees.” It would take five hundred of them stewed down to make a teaspoonful of calf’s-foot jelly. There is only one counterpart to such a man as that, and that is the frothy young woman at the watering places, her conversations made up of French moonshine………….”

“Finding his heaven in the fit of a lavender kid-glove; and the woman made up of French moonshine.” I love it!!!!!

"The world cannot show us a more exalted character than that of a truly religious philosopher, who delights to turn all things to the glory of God; who, in the objects of his sight, derives improvement to his mind; and in the glass of things temporal, sees the image of things spiritual."
Venning

Good and ill

"The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues." -- Shakespeare

I like that, and I have read many things on that theme. It is the plight of all thinking adults.
There is so much good in the worst of us, and so much bad in the best of us that we would despair if we didn't have so many examples of others fouling up, it somehow takes the full spotlight off of our latest folly.
Life asks more of us than we are willing to give, but still, we want to give. We want to make a mark deeper and wider than we have as yet. I want a stronger character, deeper devotion to God and family, persevere longer, respond more lovingly, and on it goes. I can name no virtue that I have mastered. No temper I control at all times.
I like the following quote, I'll leave it at that.

" The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another;
and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he hoped to make it."
James M. Barrie.

Grace

“To sum up all; every good man is a new creature, and Christianity is not so much a Divine institution, as a Divine frame and temper of spirit—which if we heartily pray for, and endeavor to obtain, we shall find it as hard and as uneasy to sin against God, as now we think it impossible to abstain from our most pleasing sins.
For as it is in the spermatic virtue of the heavens, which diffuses itself universally upon all sublunary bodies, and subtilely insinuating itself into most dull and inactive element, produces gold and pearls, life and motion, and brisk activities in all things that can receive the influence and heavenly blessing:-- so it is in the Holy Spirit of God, and the word of God, and the grace of God, which
St. John calls “ the seed of God;” it is a law of righteousness, and it is a law of the Spirit of life, and changes nature into grace, and dullness into zeal, and fear into love, and sinful habits into innocence, and passes on from grace to grace till we arrive at the full measures of the stature of Christ, and into the perfect liberty of the sons of God: so that we shall no more say, ‘The evil that I would not, that I do’;-- but we shall hate what God hates, and the evil that is forbidden we shall not do; not because we are strong of ourselves, but because Christ is our strength, and he is in us; and Christ’s strength shall be perfected in our weakness, and his grace shall be sufficient for us; and he will, of his own good pleasure, work in us, not only to will, but also to do, as the apostle more accurately says; “to will and to do it thoroughly” and fully, being sanctified throughout, to the glory of His holy name”……Jeremy Taylor

As I read this it so inspired me to believe in his ability to cause change. Not to be discouraged about actions and attitudes that may have prevailed for years but to trust in this “law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus”. His ability to “change dullness to zeal, sinful habits to innocence.”
I see so clearly the laws of nature; gravity, mystery, tides, lunar effects, metamorphosis, and yet I need to be reminded of “the Law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus.” Is this law less powerful than the laws of nature? I doubt not!
Can he bring change in me like he can change a blade to a blossom? Can He cause motions and tides to rise in me? Yes He can. Will the dull places be abandoned, the weak things forsaken, the tide of holiness be stilled? No!
A thousand failings and the answer is still a resounding No! Do I doubt the laws of nature? Never considered it. Then let me not doubt the laws of the Spirit.

I did have to read this piece over a few times to get all the nectar, figuring out "spermatic virtues" and "sublunary bodies" but with Webster's help I found great hope in each line.

Gaiety abated

"In Sardis there grew an herb, called Appium Sardis, that would make a man lie laughing when he was deadly sick; such is the operation of sin."

That quote by Thomas Brooks reminded me of the following by Jeremy Taylor---

" But so have I known a bold trooper fight in the confusion of battle, and being warm with heat and rage, received from the swords of his enemy, wounds open like a grave; but he felt them not, and when by the streams of blood he found himself marked for pain, he refused to consider then what he was to feel to-morrow; but when his rage had cooled into the temper of a man, and a clammy moisture had checked the fiery emission of spirits, he wonders at his own boldness, and blames fate, and needs a mighty patience to bear his great calamity.
So is the bold and merry sinner; when he is warm with wine and lust, wounded and bleeding with the strokes of hell, he twists with the fatal arm that strikes him, and cares not; but yet it must abate his gaiety, because he remembers that when his wounds are cold and considered, he must roar or perish, repent or do worse, that is, be miserable or undone."

That is a sobering piece, not your Robert Schuller kind of exhortation. But when my flesh raises up like a bold and merry sinner, and longs to be warm with wine or lust, somehow reflection on a "Precious Moments" sculpture doesn't do it.

Old Paths

The following is in the introduction to Thomas Brook's book on satan's devices. His illustrations broaden every chapter.....

"And now, if thou pleasest, read the work, and receive this counsel from me.
First, Thou must know that every man cannot be excellent, that yet may be useful. An iron key may unlock the door of a golden treasure, yea, iron can do some things that gold cannot.

Secondly, Remember, it is not hasty reading, but serious meditating, upon holy and heavenly truths, that makes them prove sweet and profitable to the soul. It is not the bee's touching of the flower that gathers the honey, but her abiding for a time upon the flower that draws out the sweet.

Thirdly, Reader, if it be not strong upon thy heart to practise what thou readest, to what end dost thou read? To increase thy own condemnation?

Humility

Oh, it is dangerous to love to be wise above what is written, to be curious and unsober in your desire of knowledge, and to trust to your own capacities and abilities to undertake to pry into all secrets, and to be puffed up with a carnal mind. Souls that are thus a-soaring up above the bounds and limits of humility, usually fall into the very worst of errors, as experience doth daily evidence. Thomas Brooks-- Precious Remedies Against Satan's Devices.

This is no prohibition against seeking the spiritual application, as you re-read it, the caution is about pride not mystery.

Acts 17:21
"All the Athenians and the foreigners who live there spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas."

Courage

The context is a battle in the Civil War—

It was in the terrible battle of Atlanta that the brave and idolized McPherson fell.
The news of his death spread with the speed of lightning along the lines, sending a pang of sorrow through every soldier’s heart. For a moment it seemed as if despair would demoralize the whole army, until General John A. Logan, on whom the command now rested, took in the situation and, on his furious black stallion, dashed down the lines, crying at the top of his voice, as he waved his sword in the air, “McPherson and revenge!
McPherson and revenge!”
An eye witness wrote; “ Never shall I forget—never will one of us who survived that desperate fight forget to our dying day—the grand spectacle presented by Logan as he rode up and down in front line, his black eyes flashing fire, his long, black hair streaming in the wind, bareheaded, and his service-worn slouch hat swinging in his bridle-hand and his sword flashing in the other, crying out in stentorian tones, ‘Boys! McPherson and revenge!’ Why, it made my blood run hot and cold, and moved every man of us to follow to the death the brave and magnificent hero-ideal of a soldier who made this resistless appeal to all that is noble in a soldiers heart, and this, too, when the very air was alive with whistling bullets and howling shell! And if he could only have been painted as he swept up and down the line on a steed as full of fire as his glorious rider, it would today be one of the finest battle pictures of the war.”
This impromptu act of courage was even more inspiring than a reinforcement of ten thousand men, and converted his almost despairing command into mighty conquerors; and the day was won.

Put that courage into a saint and he will become a missionary like Judson, a reformer like Howard, a preacher like Paul, or a martyr like Sir Thomas More.
It is this spirit that has withstood the opposition of wicked men in the progress of the achievedd acheived victory in the face of trials and death.....

This piece comes from my new book "Onward to Fame and Fortune" and I share it because this is the kind of story that inspires me. It made me think how children today are brought up with the courage of "Super Heros" or imaginative figures and not from examples of history. For me these stories are very inspiring and have an infectious quality that fiction lacks. This story reminded me of a scene in "Brave Heart".

Look and Listen

Two merchants met a dervis in the desert, who was traveling alone.
“You have lost a camel,” he said to the merchants.
“ Indeed we have,” on of the merchants replied.
“ Was he not blind in his right eye, and lame in his left leg?” continued the dervis.
“ He was,” answered the merchants.
“Had he not lost a front tooth.?” Added the dervis.
“ He had,” replied the merchants, beginning to think that the lost animal was found.
“ And was he not loaded with honey on one side and corn on the other?”
“ Most certainly he was,” the merchant said, “and as you have seen him so lately, and marked his so particularly, you can, in all probability, conduct us to him.’
The dervis responded, “ I have never seen your camel, nor even heard of him but from you.”
“ A pretty story, truly!” exclaimed the merchants, supposing they were standing face to face with a thief or robber. “ But where are the jewels which formed a part of his burden?”
“ I have neither seen your camel or the jewels,” insisted the dervis.
Satisfied that the dervis was a robber, the merchants seized him and carried him before the court for examination. Nothing was found on his person to convict him, nor could any evidence of guilt be discovered.
“A sorcerer! A sorcerer!” exclaimed the merchants, and they hastened to get him indicted for sorcery. But the drevis put an end to their proceedings by addressing the court thus:--
“ I have been amused with your surprise, and own that there has been some ground for your suspicions; but I have lived long and alone, and I can find ample scope for observation, even in the desert. I knew that I had crossed the track of a camel that had strayed from its owner, because I saw no mark of any human footstep on the same route. I knew that the animal was blind in one eye because it had cropped the herbage only on one side of the path; and I perceived that it was lame in one leg from the faint impression which that particular foot had produced upon the sand. I concluded that the animal had lost one tooth because wherever it grazed, a small tuft of herbage was left uninjured in the center of its bite. As to that which formed the burden of the beast, the busy ants informed me that it was corn on one side, and the clustering flies that it was honey on the other.”

“One purchaser notices every defect in cloth or garment that he examines, while another overlooks them; one traveler notes everything on his journey—trees, landscapes, crops, farms, homes, thrift or decay, proofs of enterprise or shiftlessness, and a score of other things, which another traveler fails to see; one reader becomes familiar with the style, purpose, sentiments, and scope of an author, pleased with excellence and pained by defects, while another catches only the general drift of the book, without being able at the conclusion of his reading to discuss its subject matter intelligently, or even to give a passable analysis of the volume; one pupil masters each branch of study to which he gives his attention, never satisfied until he understands each subject so that he is able to reason for the belief that is in him, while another is content with a parrot-like recitation or less, neither comprehending the author nor mastering the subject.”

This story and paragraph are from my knew book, and this chapter is about discrimination and discernment. There are many moral and practical applications in the chapter. The chapter encourages us to teach our children these virtues and seek them ourselves as a most important character trait for success in all of life. I think the encouragement is such a good one and I also think that our lives are broadened, deepened, protected and enjoyed more as we are able to discern.

“Onward to Fame and Fortune” by Wm. M. Thayer. The title sounds secular but it isn’t. It is published by The Christian Herald in 1897, and well worth picking up if you can find it on the internet.

Stirring Within

On my visit to Lincoln City last weekend I scored a great old book. As I was thumbing through it I read the following paragraph in the introduction---

My dear Mr. Burke,-- You will agree with me that every one must decide and direct his own course in life, and the only service friends can afford is to give us the data from which we must draw our own conclusions and decide our course. Allow me, then, to sit beside you and look over the field of life and see what are its aspects.
Tell me Mr. your name, do you not feel a spirit stirring within you that longs to know, to do, and to dare; to hold converse with the great world of thought, and hold before you some high and noble object to which the vigor of your mind and the strength of your arm may be given?
Do you not have longings like these, which you breathe to no one, and which you feel must be heeded, or you will pass through life unsatisfied and regretful? I am sure you have them, and they will forever cling round your heart till you obey their mandate.
They are the voices of that nature which God has given you, and which, when obeyed, will bless you and your fellow-men.
Now all this might be true, and yet it might be your duty not to follow that course. If your duty to your family or parents demands that you take another course, I shall rejoice to see you take that other course. The path of duty is where we all ought to walk, be that where it may.

I just love that. Such practical advice and nearly every one I have ever met knows that stirring to "know, to do and to dare" something noble we can throw ourselves into. I also like the way he balances these inner longings with our duty.
A word somewhat out of style today. But certainly a big part of manhood is doing our duty, even though it doesn't offer the same dare or risks.

I find homo sapiens to be the most interesting study. Myself included. We have a longing for society, friendships and fellowship with others. That being said, we have the most difficult of times getting along, without offending one another.
Try as we will, not long after people gather, we find we have said or done some action that we wished we had not. We seem to jockey for position, swell and snort for elevation. Not content with mere discussion, we have this need to defend our intellectual ground, or pout if our self perceived status isn’t recognized. As often as not, we leave discussing others faults or blaming them for not valuing our presence. It is a madness of sorts. I say it’s a madness because the list of short comings we hide is nearly endless. To borrow from Jeremy Taylor’s list of shortcomings;
We speak of ourselves as though we have forgotten our follies and weaknesses, the sins of our youth and the weakness of our age,
Their imperfect grace and the long list of omissions of duty,
our hesitations and fears, reservations and cowardice,
All our shame and things we are sorry for,
The evil intentions and little plots,
Our carnal confidences and trust in things of this world,
The overindulgences and lack of self-control,
our wilder escapades and materialism,
The wasting of time and eager submission to compromise,
Our trifling complaints and little peevishnesses,
The mixtures of the world with the things of the spirit,
And all the times we received mercy and the ingratitude we showed,
Our breaches of promise and abandoning of holy purposes,
The breaking of resolutions, and the plundering of our vows.

These things we are tempted to conceal and present ourselves to society as though we have nothing to hide. Were the curtain drawn back on all of our folly, one could scarcely imagine how our society has continued.

These things being said, not a day later we find ourselves craving the company of others. I was reading a piece from William Law’s “Christian Perfection” and he writes about our weaknesses in a vivid way—

"Let us take another view of the weakness and disorder of our nature. When we see people drunk, or in a violent passion, we readily own that they are in a state of delusion-- thinking, saying, and doing irregular things under the promptings of their high spirits. In these states we all see and acknowledge the power of our bodies over our reason and never suppose a man capable of judging or acting wisely as long as he is under the influence of violent passions or drink.
Whether a man be drunk with passion or strong drink, there is the same weakness of mind, the same disordered imagination, the same misapprehension of the nature of things.
We are always in a state either of self-love, pride, hatred, envy, covetousness, or ambition. One or more of these passions affect in some degree our spirits in the same manner that liquor affects us. A silent envy, a secret vanity which nobody sees raises disorderly thoughts in our heads and perverts our judgments in the same manner as do more violent passions."

When I read the part that says " we are always in a state either of self-love, pride, hatred, envy etc."
It made me think and wonder; are there no times when I'm free of self-love, times when I am truly humble? As I went through the list it was difficult to remember when I spent an hour free of some distemper.

Now to bring this to the spiritual battlefield I’ll turn to Thomas A. Kempis --

“For the love of God you ought cheerfully to undergo all things, that is to say, labors and pains; temptations, vexations, anxieties, necessities, infirmities, injuries, slanders, reproofs, humiliations, confusions, corrections, and despisings.
These are a help to virtue; these are the trial of a novice in Christ; these frame the heavenly crown. I will give an everlasting reward for a short labor, and infinite glory for transitory confusion.” Thomas A Kempis

“Trials of a novice in Christ”, would that I weren’t still a novice in Christ after thirty some years as a Christian, but to cheerfully undergo all the vexations and confusions I encounter with others is still one of my greatest challenges.

"A large charity is the growth of years, the last result of may trials." Stopford A. Brook

There's some comfort in that.

Ahhh, simplicity

"Let us learn to be content with what we have, with the place we have in life. Let us get rid of our false estimates, let us throw down the god Money from its pedestal, trample that senseless idol under foot, set up all the higher ideals-- a neat home, vines of our own planting, a few books full of the inspiration of genius, a few friends worthy of being loved, and able to love us in turn; a hundred pleasures that bring no pain or remorse, a devotion to the right that will never swerve, a simple religion empty of all bigotry, full of trust and hope and love, and to such a philosophy this world will give up all the joy it has." David Swing

I like that, false estimates, vines of our own planting, of course a few books ( or more ) and a few friends, maybe throw in there a wife or two.

We Are Not Our Wounds

“When we are cut off from the ones we love, it’s easy to define ourselves solely by our wounds, by all the ways we have been hurt and maligned. Without strong connections and input from others, we become isolated and in our isolation the places that hurt, the places that are raw and bleeding, capture our interest. Conversely, the more we are connected to love ones and are engaged within community, the more we are defined not by what we are lacking but by our presence and our impact on the lives of those around us.” The Community of Kindness"

I bought what I thought was a follow up book to "Random Acts of Kindness" but it turned out to be kind of new Age. I did find some interesting thought none the less. This particular piece jumped out at me. I know so many that are cut off from loved ones by distance, and I have seen the described sentiments occur. I think there is a lot of truth in it.

"Criticism often takes away from the tree caterpillars and blossoms together."
Richter.

Learning

"He who has no inclination to learn more will be very apt to think that he knows enough."
Powell

How true that is. We see it when it comes to religion most often. The story of the "Truth Bird"
brings that out so clearly. But I think we are very apt to think we know enough about a great many things. Maybe never so demonstrated as with people. A few brief conversations or observations, and we know enough of that person to know, we needn't pursue a friendship.
How that conclusion dwarfs our life.

Now here is a humiliating quote for me--
" Voracious learning, often over-fed, digests not into sense her motley meal. This bookcase with dark booty almost burst, this forager on other's wisdom, leaves her native farm, her reason, quite untill'd. -- Young

That made me think about all the books I have in my library. "Other's wisdom", which make no mistake about it, I am so thankful for. My library has been my fellowship, my encouragement and my support throughout my Christian walk. None the less, the quote convicts me of the many times when I was truant in personal time with God, alone in His word, seeking his light in a passage, reasoning together with him and no one else.

Creativity

" Leisure, itself the creation of wealth, is incessantly engaged in transmuting wealth
into beauty by secreting the surplus energy which flowers in great architecture, great
painting and great literature. Only in the atmosphere thus engendered floats that
impalpable dust of ideas which is real culture. A colony of ants or bees will never create
a Parthenon. -- Edith Wharton

I had to read that piece over a few times, but I like it. As I consider my own life, although when working I am making money, it is in my leisure that I create. I never thought about leisure in that light. I know in my leisure, if I am not busy doing something creative, I am most tempted. That aside, leisure is a time to do things useful. It may be that useful thing is to have a time of rest or recreation, but aside from that it is time to create, whether in the garden, on the blog, behind a camera, in front of an easel or creating spires and turrets adorning architecture. I'm so thankful for every curve and flowerette on a building. My eye follows each line with appreciation. I'm afraid economics has reduced our buildings to pure function now, but what a price to pay!
"Impalpable dust of ideas which is real culture." Just as this little quote stirs up the dust of ideas, I will not view my leisure quite the same.

Are we men?

"Whoso would be a man must be a nonconformist.
He who would gather immortal palms must not be
hindered by the name of goodness, but must explore
if it be goodness." Emerson

I like that quote, I also like the old paths; there is strength in tradition, maybe safety,
but if we be ever conforming, when will we be exploring, if never
exploring, where will advances come from?

Passions

"All the passions," says an old writer, "are such near neighbors, that if
one of them is on fire, the others should send for the buckets." Thus love and hate being both passions, the one is never safe from the spark that sets the other ablaze.-- Bulwer

" Oh, how the passions, insolent and strong, bear our weak minds their rapid course along;
make us the madness of their will obey; then die, and leave us to our grief's a prey!
Crabbe

And lastly---

"Passion is the great mover and spring of the soul; when men's passions are strongest, they may have great and noble effects; but they are then also apt to fall into the greatest miscarriages.-- Sprat

" The absent are never without fault
nor the present without excuse."
Franklin

Anticipation

"All earthly delights are sweeter in expectation than in enjoyment;
but all spiritual pleasures more in fruition than in expectation."
Feltham

Self culture

"The more perfect the sight is the more delightful the beautiful object.
The more perfect the appetite, the sweeter the food.
The more musical the ear, the more pleasant the melody.
The more perfect the soul, the more joyous the joys of heaven
and the more glorious the glory.
Baxter

I like this quote. As we age and naturally gain more knowledge, our
appreciation of our world grows and brings us more pleasure.
In addition, as we cultivate ourselves, and learn more about God, people, places
and things, though it may require effort, we are rewarded with a deeper level of
living, a savor that slothfulness will never know. Don't you think?

Giving advice

Advice and reprehension (blame and reproof) require the utmost delicacy; painful truths should be delivered in the softest terms, and expressed no farther than is necessary to produce their due effect.
A courteous man will mix what is conciliating with what is offensive; praise with censure; deference and respect with the authority of admonition, so far as can be done in consistence with probity (sincerity, integrity) and honor.
The mind revolts against all censorian power which displays pride or pleasure in finding fault; but advice, divested of the harshness and yet retaining the honest warmth of truth, is like honey put round the brim of a vessel full of wormwood.—
Even this, however, is sometimes insufficient to conceal the bitterness of the draught. -- Percival

I had opportunity to use this outline for advice just recently, and I am so glad I did.
So practicle. Would that I had followed this outline many times in the past.

Measuring Stick

“Deceive not yourselves, there is no other measure but this; so much good as a man does, or so much as he would do, if he could, -- so much of religion, and so much of repentance he hath, and no more….”
Jeremy Taylor

When I first read this, I questioned that religion could be reduced to such a short definition.
I look forward to comments. Certainly the statement embodies much of Christ's teaching.
It stings all earnest Christians I'm sure. I found some comfort in it as well; "or so much as he would do, if he could.." I have read before that a true Christian always feels that he should do more, where a professor only, feels too much is demanded. I think it is an indication that God lives and moves in us, as we wish we could do more in those areas that practically, prayer is our only option.

Polywog Christians

“It so happens in the mud and slime of the river Borborus, when the eye of the sun hath long dwelt upon it, and produces frogs which begin to move a little under a thin cover of its own parental matter, and if they can get loose to live half a life, that is all; but the hinder parts, which are not formed before the setting of the sun, stick fast in their beds of mud, and the little moiety of a creature dies before it could be well said to live; so it is with those Christians, who will do all that they think lawful, and will do no more than what they suppose necessary; they do but peep into the light of the Sun of righteousness; they have the beginnings of life; but their hinder parts, their passions and affections, and the desires of the lower man, are still unformed; and he that dwells in this state, is just so much of a Christian, as a sponge is of a plant, and a mushroom of a shrub; they may be as sensible as an oyster, and discourse at the rate of a child, but are generally short of the righteousness evangelical.” -- Jeremy Taylor

I love a barbed arrow tipped with wit. But now I must see myself as a mushroom.

Many persons might have attained to wisdom had they not assumed that they already possessed it. ----Seneca

What do we live for if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?
Elliot

The Cabin on the homestead

There's a cabin on the homestead
In a valley far away;
Where the pines are always sighing,
and the lazy breezes play.

There's a creek that's ever winding,
ever winding to the sea;
Just a silver ribbon gleaming
In a land that's far and free.

There's a mother ever waiting,
and a light that ever shines
In the cabin on the homestead;
and the tie that ever binds.

But they've roped me in the city
and I guess I'm doomed to stay,
While ever my mind's a wand'ring
and ever my mem'ries stray.

Dreaming, dreaming, ever dreaming
While my eyes grow dim with age;
Drifting, drifting, ever drifting,
life is passing page by page.

E'er I long for the solitudes
stretched beneath the Milky Way;
To dream alone, the world my own
In the evening's dusky gray.

To sit at night, in dreamy light
Of my campfire's flapping flare;
To rest in peace, where worries cease,
Forgotten, the world of care.

Oh, I'd love to ditch my collars
and my jewel-studded shirt;
Leave behind the smoke-screened cities
and their sorrow, noise and dirt.

Just to sit again and ponder
on the banks of that old stream;
Not a care, a task, a sorrow,
Just to sit and dream and dream.

But life drives us ever onward,
One step backward and we fall;
And grim duties ever lead us
O'er a rough and winding trail.

So I must forget my dreaming
of the days that used to be,
And the cabin on the homestead;
For no more will I be free.
-- Roy Thomas Greenup

Every Street is a Theater

“There is a precise analogy in moral life. Men are seeking enjoyment in rude ways, or sulking in a complaining mood, because they have nothing to make them happy! But the art of being happy lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things. If we pitch our expectations high, if we are arrogant in our pretensions, if we will not be happy except when our self-love is gratified, our pride stimulated, our vanity fed, or a fierce excitement kindled, then we shall have but little satisfaction out of this life. The whole globe is a museum to those who have eyes to see. Rare plays are unfolding before every man who can read the drama of life intelligently. Not go to theaters? Wicked to see plays?
Every street is a theater. One cannot open his eyes without seeing unconscious players. There are Othellos, and Hamlets, and Lears, and Juliets all about us.
Be cheerful yourself, and good natured, and respectful, and every man has a secret for you worth knowing. There is a school-master waiting for you behind every door. Every shopman has a look at life different from yours.
Nobody knows a city who only drives along its streets. There are vaults under streets, cellars under houses, attics above, shops behind. At every step men are found tucked away in some queer nook, doing unexpected things, themselves odd, and full of entertaining knowledge.”
H.W.Beecher – Star Papers, Unclaimed Happiness

"Every man thinks that his own geese are swans."

" Whenever that becomes a personal possesion which is legitimately an object of love, and which involves one's character for good taste, sound judgement, and personal power or prowess, its value, in the eye and heart of its possessor, is raised above the estimate and appreciation of others minds."

Timothy Titcomb -- Gold Foil

"We live in the future. Even the happiness of the present is made up mostly of that delightful discontent which the hope of better things inspires." Timothy Titcomb

I run across this theme penned by many. It intrigues me and frustrates me. To live in the moment, an art I have not mastered. To get out of the future, with my prophecies of impending
misfortune.

" Cold broth hot again, that loved I never;
Old love renewed again, that loved I ever."
A.U.

" I once heard a preacher remark that were it not for the interposition of sleep, by which all men are separated once in twenty-four hours from the consciousness of their own meanness, they would all die of self-contempt." Timothy Titcomb

When I first read that I found it a little harsh; but then a scripture came to mind-- " Reflect on what I am saying, for the Lord will give you insight into all this."

"If you pursue good with labor, the labor passes away, but the good remains; if you pursue evil with pleasure, the pleasure passes away, but the evil remains."
A.U.

Happiness

I am inclined to think that if our minds were capable of apprehending the essential facts of the life we see, we should be convinced that happiness is one of the most evenly distributed of all human possessions. The laborer loves his wife and children as well as the lord, and takes into his soul all the tender and precious influences that flow to him through their love as well as he.
Food tastes as sweetly to the ploughman as the placeman. If the latter have the daintier dish, the former has the keener appetite. Into all ears the brook pours the same stream of music, and the birds never vary their programme with reference to their audiences. The spring scatters violets broadcast, and grass grows by the roadside as well as in the park. The breeze that tosses the curls of your little ones and mine is not softer in its caresses of those who bound over velvet to greet it. The sun shines, the thunder rolls, and the stars flash, for all alike. Health knows nothing of human distinctions, and abides with him who treats it best. Sleep, the gentle angel, does not come at the call of power, and never proffers its ministry for gold. The senses take no bribes of luxury; but deal as honestly and generously by the poor as by the rich; and the President of the United States would whistle himself blind before he could call our dog from us.
Timothy Titcomb -- Gold Foil

Humility

We must not fear lest the knowledge of His gifts make us proud, so long as we are attentive to this truth, that whatsoever there is of good in us comes not from ourselves. Alas! Do mules cease to be disgusting beasts simply because they are laden with the precious and perfumed goods of the prince? St. Francis De Sales

So, an ass is an ass still, though it carry a thief's booty or a King's bounty.

From Within

The hopelessness of any one's accomplishing any thing without pluck is illustrated by an old East Indian fable. A mouse that dwelt near the abode of a great magician was kept in such constant distress by its fear of a cat, that the magician, taking pity on it, turned it into a cat itself.
Immediately it began to suffer from its fear of a dog, so the magician turned it into a dog. Then it began to suffer from fear of a tiger, and the magician turned it into a tiger. Then it began to suffer from its fear of huntsmen, and the magician in disgust said, " Be a mouse again. As you have only the heart of a mouse, it is impossible to help you by giving you the body of a nobler animal."
And the poor creature became a mouse.

Boys!
They are little, nimble, compact skinfuls of ingenious, fertile,
endless, untiring mischief.
H.W.Beecher- Star Papers

Thackeray wrote of a fashionable lady cousin in Paris:
“She is come to ‘my dearest William’ now, though she doesn’t care a fig for me. She told me astonishing things, showed me a letter in which every word was true, and which was a fib from beginning to end. A miracle of deception – flattered, fondled, coaxed. Oh, she was worth coming to Paris for!… Pray God to keep us simple. I have never looked at anything in my life which has so amazed me.”
Scribner

" We have said that there is no difference between one person and another more characteristic and noticeable than the facility of being happy."
Henry Ward Beecher


This quote disturbs me some. In my youth I seemed to have an inexhaustible facility for finding happiness. Somehow with the weight of life I find that faculty ground down, lost its tip, and finding happiness takes a determined effort, where once it flowed so naturally.

Yet taught by time, my heart has learned to glow,
For other's good, and melt at other's woe.
Homer-Odyssey.

Tsunami

I was discussing the Tsunami crisis with a co-worker and at one point she made the comment “ I know that good comes out of bad things, but it is hard to think what good can come from this.”
I began to think about that the following day and along these lines I began to consider what good can come first, from our family.
My son Matt is there with a job of photographing the good work of the aid workers and I know helping in any way he can. That began the process of thinking what can we under my roof do.
I began by thinking that my Grand-daughters should be aware of the crisis and can help out by prayer and giving in addition to sharing the world’s grief. We watched the news together and it brought up questions which we discussed.
We researched which charity has low administrative costs to give our share too.

As Christians, and not just Christians, we all support the hope of unity in the world and talk of how we care about others. This is our opportunity to demonstrate that concern and support the relief effort in all the ways we are able.
I’m optimistic that even in the midst of this horrid tragedy, countless thousands will shelter themselves, nourish themselves, drink pure water, have their wounds attended to by a world that supports and sympathizes with them, regardless of their race or belief system.

The earthquake was huge and it sent water flooding over land,..... but for a day.
As I watch and listen to the world’s response I think we will see a quake far greater in a flood of giving, caring, praying, that will flood the land with a far greater swell and far longer flood.
As parents take this time to teach their children to share in giving and as people from all countries send their gifts, prayers and sympathies, the brotherhood of man may be bound tighter than ever before. In a time when rivalry and differences among countries, parties and race seem to divide, I think the earthquake of care reverberating across the world may be the greatest memory.

1890's Humor

Mark Twain, Bill Nye, and James Whitcomb Riley were contemporaries. Bill and James were close friends. All three were well known wits of their time. This story is told by Bill Nye and if you have never heard of him this will give you a good idea of his humor.

His Garden

I always enjoy a vegetable garden, and through the winter I look forward to the spring days when I will take my cob pipe and hoe and go joyously afield.
I like to toy with the moist earth and the common squash bug of the work-a-day world. It is a pleasure also to irrigate the garden, watering the sauerkraut plant and the timid tomato vine as though they were children asking for a drink. I am never happier than when I am engaged in irrigating my tropical garden or climbing my neighbor with a hoe when he shuts off my water supply by sticking an old pair of pantaloons in the canal that leads to my squash conservatory.
One day a man shut off my irrigation that way and dammed the water up to such a degree that I shut off his air supply, and I was about to say dammed him up also. We had quite a scuffle. Up to that time we had never exchanged a harsh word. That morning I noticed that my early climbing horse-radish and my dwarf army worms were looking a little peaked, and I wondered what was the matter.
I had been absent several days and was grieved to notice that my garden had a kind of blasé air, as though it needed rest and change of scene.
The Poland China egg-plant looked up sadly at me and seemed to say: ”Pardner, don’t you think it’s a long time between drinks?” The watermelon seemed to have a dark brown taste in its mouth, and there was an air of gloom all over the garden.
At that moment I discovered my next-door neighbor at the ditch on the corner. He was singing softly to himself;
O, yes, I’ll meet you;
I’ll meet you when the sun goes down.
He was also jamming an old pair of Rembrandt pants into the canal, where they would shut off my supply. He stood with his back towards me, and just as he said he would “meet me when the sun goes down,” I smote him across the back of the neck with my hoe handle, and before he could recover from the first dumb surprise and wonder, I pulled the dripping pantaloons out of the ditch and tied them in a true-lover’s knot around his neck. He began to look black in the face, and his struggles soon ceased altogether. At that moment his wife came out and shrieked two pure womanly shrieks, and hissed in my ear; “You have killed me husband!”
I said, possibly I had. If so, would she please send in the bill and I would adjust it at an early day. I said this in a bantering tone of voice, and raising my hat to her in the polished way of mine, started to go, when something fell with a thud on the greenward!
It was the author of these lines. I did not know till two days afterward that my neighbors wife wore a moiré antique rolling-pin under her apron that morning.
I did not suspect it till it was too late. The affair was kind of hushed up on account of the respectability of the parties.
By the time I had recovered. The garden seemed to melt away into thin air.
My neighbor had it all his own way, and while his proud holly hocks and Johnny-jump-ups reared their heads to drink the mountain of water at the twilight hour, my little low-necked, summer squashes curled up and died.

Most every year yet I made a garden. I pay a man $3 to plow it. Then I pay $7 for garden seeds and in July I hire the same man at $3 to summer-fallow the whole thing while I go and buy my vegetables of a Chinaman named Wun Lung.
I’ve done this now for eight years, and I owe my robust health and rich olive complexion to the fact that I’ve got a garden and do just as little in it as possible.
Parties desiring a dozen or more of my Shanghai egg-plants to set under an ordinary domestic hen can procure the same by writing to me and enclosing lock of hair and $10.

"Pity is a state of kindness excited by the sight of suffering." H.W. Beecher

Beecher has a way of defining things like few others I know. I have always felt the emotions one feels when sympathizing with a sufferer a very difficult thing to describe. The situations can be so grim but in the midst of it is a longing to be where the suffering abide. When I read this quote
"a state of kindness" it seemed so clear to me. Suffering humanity draws out, compels us, to do something kind to that suffering person. Even the most hardened person is drawn into that 'state of kindness' when viewing suffering or sorrow. The 'state of kindness' not only brings consolation to the injured but it is a medicine to us. We are lifted even though we are in the most distressing circumstances. A bitter, sweet frame of mind.
I can enter that state when I see dramatic needs, but I suspect the goal is to recognize quiet suffering with more and more sensitivity.

This Mornings Muse

I had an interesting morning which started out considering the following piece.
In an effort to make the most out of life, and pass along any tidbits that I think will enhance the lives of those I love, I delved into the feelings that this piece triggered in me. It comes from a book called “The Simple Life” by Charles Wagner.
It was written around the turn of the century, surprise, surprise, and it is antiquated in many ways but this paragraph spoke to me as he recounted the joy in the simple festivals that country folk enjoy. He contrasts that with the commercial.

“Compare one of those out-door festivals of the good old style with one of the village festivals, so-called modernized. On the one hand, in the respected frame of secular customs solid countrymen sang their songs of the country, danced the country dances, in their peasant’s attire, drank their native drinks, and seemed to completely enjoy themselves. They amused themselves like the blacksmith at his forge, as the cascade falls, as the colts bound in the meadow. It is contagious and wins your heart. In spite of oneself one says; “Bravo! Children; that is just right.” We would ask to be of the party.
On the other hand, I see villagers disguised in “citizens” ; peasants rendered ugly by the dressmakers, and as a principle ornament of the festival a gathering of degenerates, who bawl concert-hall songs; and, sometimes, holding the place of honor, a few strolling actors of the tenth class come for the occasions, to smooth off the rougher points of these rurals, and to permit them to taste of refined pleasures. For drinks, liquors based on alcohol made from potatoes or absinthe. There is no originality or picturesqueness in all of it.
Of gay abandon, perhaps, and vulgarity, but not the abandonment which brings innocent pleasure.”

Now my dilemma is that I am an equal mix of the two styles he comments on.
I enjoy those that bawl out concert-hall songs, and the strolling actors intrigue me. That being said, the old style festival brought to mind certain images to me that satisfy something deep in my soul. I would liken his ‘old style’ festivals to the local Farmers Market. There is an effort to make them in keeping with those of old. Music is folk or country with all acoustical instruments or the like. No knick-knacks, or merchandise not in keeping with the spirit of the season and theme.
I very much like the environment, it has a true simplicity with ruddy faced farm children helping their parents sell their produce, lots of denim and flannel, strong weather worn hands abound.
That thought led me to other like experiences and I drifted off to the ‘October Fest’ in Mt Angel. This is a German affair with authentic dances, attire and food.
Again it is a simple production with the crescendo being the dance around the May Pole. Having German blood in me, I thought I felt a twinge of kinship rise in me from time to time as I watched little blonde haired, blue-eyed girls with braided hair skip and smile.
While visiting Mt. Angel we ventured up to a Catholic Church that had all day long entertainment inside. We walked in the breath taking sanctuary, past the Holy Water and into the warm rich light that the towering stained glass windows provided. There was a lone woman singing with a rich clarion voice. She put a spell on me as the beauty of her simple voice rang out songs like Danny Boy and other Irish songs of culture and faith.
From there my memory took me to the ‘Garlic Festival’ another harvest time gathering. This was more of a mix of old and new but still had the flavor of the previous mentioned gatherings.
How could I forget the pumpkin patch, with hot cocoa brewing, hayrides and petting zoos of rabbits, roosters and goats. Which reminds me of the State fair and the blue ribbon quilting, giant vegetables and horse competitions. Not to mention the barn smells that at once offend and draw me.
Then I began to remember the experience of Thailand. These feelings were completely fleshed out in the genuine old culture that dominates where I visited.
It was like walking into the past and I felt right at home. The most basic needs met, to me, were filled with charm and character. From the faces, village homes to the markets, I was enraptured with each site.

So with all these thoughts filling my head I decided to look for some pithy statements that might best describe my feelings. I looked up a chapter on ' The simple life' and began to read.
I found most of the thoughts brought out the dilemma of finding purpose in life and I turned a corner as I read this first quote—

“ We must not look for a golden life in an iron age.” John ray.
That kind of popped my bubble but it fits my reality and so on I went in search of more.
“ We live merely on the crust or rind of things.” J.A. Froude
That fits as well; obviously I can’t live at the Farmers market but better to enjoy the crust than nothing at all.

“ Ones real life is so often the life one does not lead.” O. Wilde.
That resonates as well; my day-to-day life is spent in an office or warehouse far from the farm or country. But my heart is at least in part, in the country.

A thought like it – “Real life is, to most men, a long second best, a perpetual compromise between the ideal and the possible.” B. Russell.
I couldn’t put my thoughts more succinctly. I’m not proud or thrilled to admit it but my dreams have little to do with my work and my home is not nestled where I would choose. But, we do what we can. Maybe that thought is spoken somewhere?
How about – “ We live, not as we wish, but as we can.” Menander
Yep, that about says it. We go where the money is to raise a family and make compromises for the whole, not just ourselves. Don’t we?
After all—“ There is one reason we cannot complain of life; it keeps no one against his will.” Seneca
True, dreams or not I’m not checking out.

Now I read a quote with some purpose to it, which I need about now.
“ Life is a mission. Every other definition of life is false, and leads all who accept it astray. Religion, science, philosophy, though still at variance upon many points,
all agree in this, that every existence is an aim.” Mazzini

So what was my aim again? I get kind of lost in all this but there are a few things I can say with certainty, or someone else can say it for me….
“ The poorest way to face life is with a sneer.” T. Roosevelt.
Sometimes I find myself doing this, with all I have to be thankful for? Still, it happens.

“ Life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.” O. Henry
I got a chuckle out of that and there are seasons of my life where it was so true.

Then I read this quote and it really spoke to me;
“ Life consists in what man is thinking of all day.” Emerson
I like that. Most of what we experience in life is in our mind, or in my case my mouth, and it sparked a thought that there are many things I could do with my mind while at work. I could learn a new language. I wanted to learn Thai so I could talk with Nic, or I could learn Spanish with our Hispanic population growing.
I could memorize scripture. Anyway, I spend most of my mental energy during the day on trifles. What a waste.

Well, that was then end of my morning search on the subject but I wanted to read a little in the Bible so I turned to John and my eyes fell on this verse—
“I am the light of the world, Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
“The light of life” that just beamed out at me. That’s what I want, that light. Festivals are fun, travel is fine, smiles or sniffles are a part of life, but let me have the Light of Life.

The power of habit

Sir James Paget tells us that a practiced musician can play on the piano at the rate of twenty-four notes a second. For each note a nerve current must be transmitted from the brain to the fingers, and from the fingers to the brain. Each note requires three movements of a finger, the bending down and raising up, and at least one lateral, making no less than seventy-two motions in a second, each requiring a distinct effort of the will, and directed unerringly with a certain speed, and a certain force, to a certain place.
Some can do this easily, and be at the same time busily employed in intelligent conversation.
Thus, by obeying the law of habit until repetition has formed a second nature, we are able to pass the technique of life almost wholly over to nerve centers, leaving our minds free to act or enjoy.

Man's life-work is a masterpiece or a botch, according as each little habit has been perfectly or carelessly formed.
Orison S. Marden

By experience we find out a shorter way
by a long wandering.
Learning teacheth more in one year
than experience in twenty. Roger Ascham.

Pride goeth forth on horseback grand and gay,
But cometh back on foot, and begs its way.
Longfellow

Here is a letter written by Abraham Lincoln to Mrs. Bixby, of Boston, Massachusetts, which is declared to be the most perfect piece of composition ever penned.
It is dated from the Executive Mansion, November twenty first, Eighteen Hundred Sixty-four;

Dear Madam; I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the
Adjutant-General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died
gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any attempt to beguile you
from the grief of a loss so overwhelming.
But I can not refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of
the Republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of
your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the
solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the alter of freedom.

Yours very sincerely and respectfully, Abraham Lincoln.

I did not think that because I had done wrong
I ought not to do right. -- H.W. Beecher

The heart dwindles in contact with small things and
narrow interests; but when brought into harmony with
great ideas, striving for great ends, with strong feeling
excited and pouring upon the alter of success the most
costly and precious sacrifices, then the human heart,
developing the germ of immortal nature, rises to the
height of the loftiest ideas, and enlarges to the compass
of the broadest principles. -- Geo. M. Robeson

Just Hush

Let your words be few, especially when your
superiors or strangers are present, lest you
betray your own weakness, and rob yourself
of the opportunity which you might otherwise
have had to gain knowledge, wisdom and
experience by hearing those whom you silenced
by your impertinent talking. -- Sir Matthew Hale

The strongest plume in wisdom's wing
Is memory of past folly. -- Coleridge

Room warmer

The song says, “The best things in life are free.” Well, I spent two days with Destiny, who came down with the ladies of the family to visit Grandma Jenny.
Destiny spent the night at our house and I’m still in the after-glow of this little Doe with dark fawn eyes. Permit me to boast and relish in her visit. Ten years old, may they never leave that age, full of life, smiles in her eyes and her speech.
She has such a soft and gentle heart with silent traces of womanhood at the door.
She warmed each room she was in and left me determined to have her here for more time this coming summer.
When the visit was over we took her to the Retirement home where Grandma Jenny and the family were preparing to sing some songs to the residents. What a show! About 45 minutes of singing the way that must be heard to believe. The harmony, the blend of LeeElla and Angela as only trained family members can offer. I was on the brink of tears through the entire performance as the heartfelt music filled the room. Watching the residents sing along quietly as they were bathed in gospel. The passing staff would stop and stand as the music spilled out into the halls.
Each family member sang and each seemed better than the last. Then nearing the end, Destiny got up to sing two solos. I had such anticipation to hear her sing. Her voice has the quality that comes only with tutoring by experienced teachers.
I posted on my blog the story of Diogenes who was demanded by Alexander to ask for a favor, my request would simply be to ask him to please step aside that I may see my Grand-daughter sing.

Balance in Beauty

This piece comes from Beaten Paths printed in 1890. Not a bad piece of advise for us today.

" I believe that God desires us all to become as beautiful as possible. He who at morn and eventide makes the skies a blaze of color; He who stars the meadows in spring with flowers of a hundred hues; He who arrays the autumn woods in glories of crimson and gold, and in winter makes every gaunt branch glitter with incrustation of diamonds, is surly not averse to beauty.
Make yourself as beautiful as possible, and have no fears that either your character or your influence, will suffer loss. Dress develops taste, observation, judgment, modesty. A becoming dress gives evidence of refined culture; it is an open letter of credit, read and honored by all.
Let your dress be as beautiful and becoming as you can make it. You owe this to others as well as to yourself. But at the same time, beware of carrying ornamentation to far. For the highest beauty is not that which glares and dazzles, not that whose aggressiveness compels attention, but rather that whose quiet, unobtrusive grace waits discovery at the eye of the connoisseur.
It is not the leonine sunflower of Oscar Wilde, but the shrinking violet, that moves the sweetest chords in the poet's lyre. "Virtue," says Lord Bacon, "is like rich stone, best plain set."
Talents and graces of mind and heart need no meretricious setting to make the world cognizant of their existence. The true principle was disclosed by Dr. Johnson when he declared that a certain lady must have been well dressed, because he could not remember what she had on.
The lady uses dress as an auxiliary, and would feel humiliated to have the world take notice of her wardrobe rather than of herself. Over ornamentation is worse than no ornamentation at all."

As I think about the Red Carpet filled with Hollywood's starlets 'glaring and blazing' in their dress; I suspect they are not humiliated that the world takes no note of their character.
Just a guess.

Powers of Darkness

This warning is strong medicine but in our world so pertinent.

" From the depths of his own bitter and terrible experience, Charles Lamb, witty, gifted, ruined, lifts up his voice in warning:
" The waters have gone over me. But out of the black depths, could I be heard, I would cry out to all those who have but set one foot in the perilous flood. Could the youth, to whom the flavor of his first wine is delicious as the opening scene of life or the entering upon some newly discovered paradise, look into my desolation, and be made to understand what a dreary thing it is when a man shall feel himself going down a precipice with open eyes and a passive will -- to see his destruction and have no power to stop it, yet feel it all the way emanating from himself; to see all goodness emptied out of him, and yet not be able to forget a time when it was otherwise; to bear about the piteous spectacle of his own ruin;
could he see my fevered eye, feverish with last night's drinking, and feverishly looking for tonight's repetition of the folly; could he but feel the body of the death out of which I cry hourly, with feebler outcry, to be delivered, it were enough to make him dash the sparkling beverage to the earth, in all its mantling temptation."

The true way to feel rich is not so much by amassing a tremendous fortune as by putting a curb upon our own desires. It is of self-restraint that the feeling of prosperity is begotten. When Diogenes went to a country fair, and observed the ribbons, and the mirrors, and the fiddles, and the hobby-horses, and the various other nick-nacks that are always to be found at such places, he exclaimed, "Lord, how many things there are in the world, of which Diogenes hath no need!"
He felt rich, though his personal possessions were but few.
It was the same individual who, when requested by Alexander the Great to demand a favor,
asked the conqueror of the world to stand from between him and the sun, whose light and warmth he was at the time enjoying. -- Beaten Paths

" They say the best men are moulded out of fault." Shakspeare.

Nature calls for room and for freedom – room for her ocean and freedom for its waves; room for her rivers and freedom for their flowing; room for her forests and freedom for every tree to respond to the influences of earth and sky according to its law. Exceedingly proper things are not at all in the line of nature.
Nature never trims a hedge, or cuts off the tail of a horse. Nature never compels a brook to flow in a right line, but permits it to make just as many turns in a meadow as it pleases. Nature is very careless about the form of her clouds, and masses and colors them with great disregard of the opinions of the painters.
Nature never thinks of smoothing off her rocks, and cleaning away her mud, and keeping herself trim and neat. She does very improper things in a very impulsive manner. Instead of contriving some safe, silent, and secret way to dispose of her electricity, she comes out with a blinding flash and a stunning crash, and a rush of rain that likely fills the mountain streams to overflowing, and destroys bridges and booms, and cabins and cornfields. On the whole, though nature keeps up a respectable appearance, I suppose that, in the opinion of my particular friend Miss Nancy, she would be improved by taking a few lessons of a French gardener.......

A man who has been clipped in all his puttingsforth, and modelled by outside influences, until it is apparent that he is governed from without rather than from within, is just as unnatural an object as a tree that has been clipped and tied and bent until its top has grown into the form of a cube." --- Timothy Titcomb

Judge not

Judge not; the workings of his brain
and of his heart thou canst not see;
What looks to thy dim eyes a stain,
In God's pure light may only be
a scar, brought from some well-won field,
Where thou wouldst only faint and yield.
Adelaide A. Procter.

Harsh counsels have no effect;
They are like hammers which are always repulsed by the anvil.
Helevetius.

Fit For Angels

I cannot fail, however unwilling, to see much that is dry and unlovely in the style of Christianity around me. It has no attraction for me. I do not like the people who illustrate it; and the reason is, not that they have got too much of Christianity, but that they have not got enough of any thing else. Flour is good, but flour is not bread. If I am to eat flour, I must eat it as bread; either milk or water must be used to make it bread. If a little milk is used, the bread will be dry and heavy and hard. If a good deal is used, the flour will be transformed into a soft and plastic mass, which will rise in the heat, and come to my lips a sweet fragrant morsel.
Christianity is good, but it wants mixing with humanity before it will have a practical value. If only a little humanity be mixed with it, the product will be dry and tasteless; but if it be combined with the real milk of humanity, and enough of it, the result will be a loaf fit for the tongues of angels.

Moods

" My heart and mind and self, never in tune;
Sad for the most part, then in such a flow
Of spirits, I seem now hero, now buffoon."
--Leigh Hunt.

Get your grapes to market and keep the bloom

Oh, the eagerness and freshness of youth!
How the boy enjoys his food, his sleep, his sports, his companions, his truant days!
His life is an adventure, he is widening his outlook, he is extending his dominion, he is
conquering his kingdom. How cheap are his pleasures, how ready his enthusiasms!
In boyhood I have had more delight on a haymow with two companions and a big dog-
delight that came near intoxication-
than I have ever had in all the subsequent holidays of my life. When youth goes, much goes with it. When manhood comes, much comes with it. We exchange a world of delightful sensations and impressions for a world of duties and studies and meditations. The youth enjoys what the man tries to understand.
Lucky is he who can get his grapes to market and keep the bloom upon them, who can carry some of the freshness and eagerness and simplicity of youth into his later years, who can have a
boy's heart below a man's head.
--John Burroughs from Elbert Hubbard's Scrapbook

True Pleasures

All real and wholesome enjoyments possible to man have been just as possible to him since first he was made of the earth as they are now; and they are possible to him chiefly in peace.
To watch corn grow, and the blossoms set; to draw hard breath over plowshare or spade; to read, to think, to love, to hope, to pray-- these are the things that make men happy...
Now and then a wearied king, or a tormented slave, found out where the true kingdoms of the world were, and possessed himself, in a furrow or two of garden ground, of a truly infinite dominion.
John Ruskin

The presence of God

This exerpt is from a piece by Wilhelm Lamszus describing the thoughts of a Civil War soldier leaving for battle the following day. The soldier resists this encounter with God. I have never read a better description of the calling of God.

I am leaning back and straining my ears for the sounds in the dim twilight of the building.
Childhood's days rise before my eyes again. I am watching a little solemn-faced boy sitting crouched in a corner and listening to the divine service. The priest is standing in front of the altar, and is intoning the Exhortation devoutly. The choir in the gallery is chanting out the responses. The organ thunders out floods through the building majestically.
I am rapt in an ecstasy of sweet terror, for the Lord God is coming down upon us. He is standing before me and touching my body, so that I have to close my eyes in a terror of shuddering ecstacy....
That is long, long ago, and is all past and done with, as youth itself is past and done with...
Strange! After all these years of doubt and unbelief, at this moment of lucid consciousness, the atmosphere of devoutness, long since dead, possesses me, and thrills me so passionatly that I can hardly resist it. This is the same heavy twilight- these are the same yearning angel voices-
the same fearful sense of rapture--
I pull myself together, and sit bolt upright on the hard wooden pew.
Elbert Hubbard's Scrapbook

A murdered man, ten miles away,
Will hardly shake your peace,
Like one red stain upon your hand;
And a tortured child in a distant land
Will never check one smile today,
Or bid one fiddle cease.
Alfred Noyes, from Elbert Hubbard's Scrapbook

Put potatoes in a cart over a rough road
and the small ones go to the bottom.
President Porter.

Contrasts

There is no peace for the wicked the Bible says.
This excerpt from a poem is a good illustration of that.

To the pure mind alone hath solitude
Its charms. To that base nature which
Runs to daily riot in the carnival of
Sin, there is no sweetness in the calm
Seclusion of the forest shade.
For the deep quiet that doth reign
Around is but a torturing contrast
To the sad turmoil within the breast,
And there would conscience sting him to the quick....
Wordsworth

Loss of Childhood

I remember with entire distinctness the moment when the consciousness possessed me that my childhood was transcended by dawning manhood, and I can never forget the pang that moment brought me. It was on a bright, moonlight night, in midwinter, when my mates, boisterous with life, were engaged in there usual games in the snow, and I had gone out expecting to share in their enjoyment. I had not played, or rather tried to play, five minutes before I found that there was nothing in the play for me -- that I had absolutely exhausted play as the grand pursuit of my life. Never since has the wild laugh of boyhood sounded so vacant and hollow, as it did to me on that night. In an instant, the invisible line was crossed which separated a life of purely animal enjoyment from a life of moral motive and responsibility, and intellectual action and enterprise.
The old had passed away, and I had entered that which was new; and I turned my steps homeward, leaving behind me all my companions, to spend a quiet evening in the chimney-corner, and dream of the realm that was opening before me.
Such a moment as this comes really, though not always consciously, to every man and woman. Today we are children; tomorrow we are not. Today we stand in life's vestibule; tomorrow we are in the temple, awed by the sweep of the arches over us, humbled by the cross that fronts us, and smitten with the mysteries that breathe upon us from the choir, or gaze at us from the flaming windows. --- Timothy Titcomb "Lessons in Life"

I had considered adding some thoughts to this but his thoughts are complete, so I'll not.

Bedroom Cathedral

I'll begin this poem with a disclaimer written in one of my first poems--
"I'spose I'll write a few lines so's you'll know
A little bit about me as a lad although-
It may not reveal the best of me,
'cause my claim to fame aint been poetry."

So with that said maybe you'll be forgiving with the following and
find a line or two that speaks to you.

Bedroom Cathedral

Kneeling passionless, entrenched in apathy
hoping, but doubting you'll meet with me,
yet a glimmer of reserved expectancy
is the timmorous invitation that brings remedy.
The room transforms to a passageway,
to the heart of God, and I begin to lay
all clamor aside, and I reach with a call
for the full presence of God to fall.
Enraptured with kisses as you bring
me under the shadow of your wing.

A lifting up to glory -- and yet,
hot tears, and my eyes are wringing wet,
from the sense of sin deep in me
and the failings of spiritual truancy.
Then the Spirit's saber begins to lance
this evil heart, and again the chance
to rise in penance cleansed within,
to carry the blood stained banner again.

Jesus, I'm amazed you would take the time
to linger and touch a life such as mine.
With angelic hosts your glory to adorn
yet you stoop and touch this soul forlorn.

Now I leave, resolved to run the race,
strengthened within by saving grace.