"I
have heard an oleosaccharine priest preach for an hour on this subject,
detailing the worthlessness of all earthly pleasures, with which he
seemed to be intimately acquainted--his appearance making one suspect
that he had not even yet exhausted them all himself--and giving a
florid account of the glories of the life to come, about which he
appeared to know as much but to care less; just as if heaven might not
begin on earth if only men would let it."
One day I had to warn her about acting so often on impulse. She heard
what I had to say very good-naturedly, and, after thinking about it for
a while, she said: "What a pity it is one never sees an impulse coming.
It is impossible to know whether they arise from below, or descend from
above. I always find if I act on one that it has arisen; and as surely
if I leave it alone it proves to have been a good opportunity lost. And
how curiously our thoughts go on, often so irrespective of ourselves. I
was in a Roman Catholic church the other day, and the priest--a friend
of mine, who looks like the last of the Mohicans minus the feathers in
his hair; but a good man, with nice, soft, velvety brown eyes--preached
most impressively.
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51