Thoughts on Life and Religion: An Aftermath from the Writings of The Right Honourable Professor Max MüllerMüller, F. Max (Friedrich Max)
Religion
Thoughts on Life and Religion: An Aftermath from the Writings of The Right Honourable Professor Max Müller
Müller, F. Max (Friedrich Max)
Life; Philosophy; Religion; Theology
Enjoy the precious years God has added to your life, with constant
gratitude, with quiet and purity of soul, looking more to the
heavenly than to the earthly: that gives true joyfulness of soul, if
we _every moment_ recollect what is eternal, and never quite lose
ourselves in the small, or even the large cares of life.
_Life._
If we live on this earth only, if our thoughts are hemmed in by the
narrow horizon of this life, then we lose indeed those whom death
takes from us. But it is death itself which teaches us that there is
a Beyond, we are lifted up and see a new world, far beyond what we
had seen before. In that wide world we lead a new and larger life,
a life which includes those we no longer see on earth, but whom we
cannot surrender. The old Indian philosophers say that no one can
find the truth whose heart is attached to his wife and children. No
doubt perfect freedom from all affections would make life and death
very easy. But may not the very love which we feel for those who
belong to us, even when they are taken from us, bring light to our
eyes, and make us see the truth that, by that very love, we belong
to another world, and that from that world, however little we can
here know about it, love will not be excluded. We believe what we
desire--true--but why do we desire? Let us be ourselves, let us be
what we are meant to be on earth, and trust to Him who made us what
we are.
_MS._
Yes, every day adds a new thin layer of new thoughts, and these
layers form the texture of our character. The materials come
floating towards us, but the way in which they settle down depends
much on the ebb and flow within us. We can do much to keep off
foreign elements, and to attach and retain those which serve
best in building up a strong rock. But from time to time a great
sorrow breaks through all the strata of our soul--all is upheaved,
shattered, distorted. In nature all that is grand dates from such
convulsions--why should we wish for a new smooth surface, or let our
sorrows be covered by the flat sediment of everyday life?
_MS._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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