Fugiens periculosam Felix robore valli, Duces serenus aevum Ridens aetheris iras. ('De Consolatione Philosophiæ,' ii. 4.) This tacit reminiscence of the Gospel parable is all the more remarkable because elsewhere in this his most famous work Boethius seems studiously to avoid all reference to Christianity. P. 325. 'Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.' Bacon said that the entrance into the kingdom of knowledge was like the entrance into the kingdom of God: 'ut non alius fere sit aditus ad regnum hominis, quod fundatur in scientiis, quam ad regnum cœlorum, in quod, nisi sub persona infantis, intrare non datur '(' Novum Organum,' i. 68). P. 330. And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh.' Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill ! No light had we: for that we do repent; No light: so late! and dark and chill the night! O let us in, that we may find the light! Too late, too late: ye cannot enter now. Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet? O let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet! No, no, too late! ye cannot enter now! (Tennyson, 'Guinevere.') P. 338. 'I will pull down my barns, and build greater,' etc. Tu secanda marmora Locas sub ipsum funus, et sepulchri Immemor struis domos. (Horace, 'Odes,' ii. 18. 17 sqq.) P. 345. And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life.' See Matthew Arnold's sonnet 'East London': 'Twas August, and the fierce sun overhead I met a preacher there I knew, and said: 'Ill and o'erworked, how fare you in this scene?' Much cheer'd with thoughts of Christ, the living bread.' Oh, human soul! as long as thou canst so To cheer thee, and to right thee if thou roam Not with lost toil thou labourest through the night! Thou mak'st the heaven thou hop'st indeed thy home. P. 346. 'The Good Shepherd.' 'Judæa, indeed, offers as good ground as there is in all the East for observing the grandeur of the shepherd's character. On the boundless Eastern pasture, so different from the narrow meadows and dyked hillsides with which we are familiar, the shepherd is indispensable. With us, sheep are often left to themselves; but I do not remember ever to have seen in the East a flock of sheep without a shepherd. In such a landscape as Judæa, where a day's pasture is thinly scattered over an unfenced tract of country, covered with delusive paths, still frequented by wild beasts, and rolling off into the desert, the man and his character are indispensable. On some high moor, across which at night the hyenas howl, when you meet him, sleepless, far-sighted, weather-beaten, armed, leaning on his staff, and looking out over his scattered sheep, every one of them on his heart, you understand why the shepherd of Judæa sprang to the front in his people's history; why they gave his name to their king, and made him the symbol of Providence; why Christ took him as the type of self-sacrifice. 'Sometimes we enjoyed our noonday rest beside one of these Judæan wells, to which three or four shepherds came down with their flocks. The flocks mixed with each other, and we wondered how each shepherd would get his own again. But after the watering and the playing were over, the shepherds one by one went up different sides of the valley, and each called out his peculiar call; and the sheep of each drew out of the crowd to their own shepherd, and the flocks passed away as orderly as they came. "The shepherd of the sheep, . . . when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice, and a stranger will they not follow. I am the Good Shepherd, and know My sheep, and am known of Mine." These words our Lord spake in Judæa' (G. A. Smith, The Historical Geography of the Holy Land,' p. 311 sqq.). P. 357. 'Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth give I unto you.' Similarly Epictetus ('Dissertations,' iii. 13. 10 sqq.) contrasts Cæsar's peace, or the outward peace of the world, with the inward peace of philosophy. For behold the great peace which Cæsar gives us. There are no more wars nor fightings nor bands of robbers and pirates. A man may safely journey and sail at all times from east to west. Can Cæsar then give us peace from fever? from fire, or earthquake, or thunderbolt ? ay, or from love? He cannot. From sorrow? He cannot. From envy? He can give us peace from none of these things. But philosophy promises to give us peace even from these. What saith it? "If ye give heed unto me, O men, wheresoever ye are, whatsoever ye do, ye shall feel neither pain, nor anger, nor necessity, nor hindrance, but ye shall live unharmed and free from them all." This peace, proclaimed not by Cæsar (for how could he proclaim it ?) but by God through reason, may well suffice for a man when he is alone, seeing and considering that, "Now no evil can befall me; for me there is no robber, no earthquake: all things are full of peace and of tranquillity." P. 370. 'Abide with us: for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.' These words strike the keynote of what is perhaps the most beautiful hymn in our language: Abide with me! fast falls the eventide ; The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide ! P. 371. 'And all that sat in the council, looking stedfastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an angel.' Burke describes as follows the scene in the House of Commons when the repeal of the American Stamp Act was carried (the member who moved the repeal was General Conway): 'I remember, sir, with a melancholy pleasure, the situation of the honourable gentleman who made the motion for the repeal; in that crisis, when the whole trading interest of this empire, crammed into your lobbies, with a trembling and anxious expectation, waited, almost to a winter's return of light, their fate from your resolutions. When, at length, you had determined in their favour, and your doors thrown open, showed them the figure of their deliverer in the well-earned triumph of his important victory, from the whole of that grave multitude there arose an involuntary burst of gratitude and transport. They jumped upon him like children on a long absent father. They clung about him as captives about their redeemer. All England, all America, joined in his applause. Nor did he seem insensible to the best of all earthly rewards, the love and admiration of his fellow-citizens. Hope elevated and joy brightened his crest. I stood near him ; and his face, to use the expression of the Scripture of the first martyr, his face was as if it had been the face of an angel' ('Speech on American Taxation'). P. 385. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.' The thought is the same in Bernard of Clugny's hymn: Hic breve vivitur, hic breve plangitur, hic breve fletur: Non breve vivere, non breve plangere retribuetur ; O retributio! stat brevis actio, vita perennis; O retributio! caelica mansio stat lue plenis. Which is rendered in English thus: Brief life is here our portion, Brief sorrow, short-lived care; O happy retribution! Short toil, eternal rest; P. 390. 'Whose names are in the book of life.' There is a book By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light, A chronicle of actions just and bright: There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine, And since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine. (Cowper, 'To Mrs. Unwin.') P. 396. My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience,' etc. 'I cannot praise a fugitive and cloister'd virtue, unexercis'd and unbreath'd, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for not without dust and heat. Assuredly we bring not innocence into the world, we bring impurity much rather: that which purifies us is trial, and trial is by what is contrary' (Milton, 'Areopagitica '). ... P. 398. 'Now are we the sons of God . . . And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself.' We may compare Epictetus, 'Dissertations,' ii. 8. 11 sqq.: 'Thou art a particle of God; thou hast a portion of Him in thyself. How comes it then that thou art ignorant of thy noble birth? How is it that thou knowest not whence thou camest?... Miserable man, thou bearest about God with thee and knowest it not. Thinkest thou I mean a god of silver or gold hung on thy body? Thou carriest him within thee, and per ceivest not that thou dost pollute him by foul thoughts and base actions. In the presence of God's image thou wouldest not dare to do any of those things that thou doest; and yet when God is present in thee and seeth all things and heareth all things, thou art not ashamed to think these thoughts and to do these deeds.' Marcus Aurelius says (iii. 16) that it is a mark of a good man 'not to defile the divinity that lodges in his breast.' P. 408. 'Every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown.' Compare Epictetus, 'Enchiridion,' 29: 'Would you win an Olympic victory ? . . You must lead an orderly life, eat sparingly, abstain from dainties, take hard exercise, at fixed times, in heat, in cold; you must drink no iced drinks nor wine at pleasure: in a word you must give yourself up to your trainer as to a physician. Then in the contest you must be prepared to roll in the dust, to dislocate an arm, to sprain an ankle, to swallow much sand, to be struck, and after all perhaps to be vanquished.' |