Country life -- Fiction; Vicars, Parochial -- England -- Fiction
When I reached my own study, I sat down by a blazing fire, and poured
myself out a glass of wine; for I had to go out again to see some of my
poor friends, and wanted some luncheon first.—It is a great thing to
have the greetings of the universe presented in fire and food. Let me,
if I may, be ever welcomed to my room in winter by a glowing hearth, in
summer by a vase of flowers; if I may not, let me then think how nice
they would be, and bury myself in my work. I do not think that the road
to contentment lies in despising what we have not got. Let us
acknowledge all good, all delight that the world holds, and be content
without it. But this we can never be except by possessing the one
thing, without which I do not merely say no man ought to be content,
but no man CAN be content—the Spirit of the Father.
If any young people read my little chronicle, will they not be inclined
to say, “The vicar has already given us in this chapter hardly anything
but a long sermon; and it is too bad of him to go on preaching in his
study after we saw him safe out of the pulpit”? Ah, well! just one
word, and I drop the preaching for a while. My word is this: I may
speak long-windedly, and even inconsiderately as regards my young
readers; what I say may fail utterly to convey what I mean; I may be
actually stupid sometimes, and not have a suspicion of it; but what I
mean is true; and if you do not know it to be true yet, some of you at
least suspect it to be true, and some of you hope it is true; and when
you all see it as I mean it and as you can take it, you will rejoice
with a gladness you know nothing about now. There, I have done for a
little while. I won’t pledge myself for more, I assure you. For to
speak about such things is the greatest delight of my age, as it was of
my early manhood, next to that of loving God and my neighbour. For as
these are THE two commandments of life, so they are in themselves THE
pleasures of life. But there I am at it again. I beg your pardon now,
for I have already inadvertently broken my promise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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