No literary fact is more remarkable than that men, knowing what these writers knew, and feeling what they felt, should read more

No literary fact is more remarkable than that men, knowing what these writers knew, and feeling what they felt, should have given us chronicles so plain and calm. They have nothing to say as from themselves. Their narratives place us without preface, and keep us without comment, among external scenes, in full view of facts, and in contact with the living person whom they teach us to know... Who can fail to recognize a divine provision for placing the disciples of all future ages as nearly as possible in the position of those who had been personally present at "the beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God"?

Commemoration of Lanfranc, Prior of Le Bec, Archbishop of Canterbury, 1089 I whould be very sorry that any read more

Commemoration of Lanfranc, Prior of Le Bec, Archbishop of Canterbury, 1089 I whould be very sorry that any man living should outgo me in desires that all who fear God throughout the world, especially in these nations, were of one way as well as of one heart. I know I desire it sincerely; but I do verily believe that when God shall accomplish it, it will be the effect of love, and not the cause of love. It will proceed from love, before it brings forth love.

Feast of Michael & All Angels We would fain be humble; but not despised. To be despised read more

Feast of Michael & All Angels We would fain be humble; but not despised. To be despised and rejected is the heritage of virtue. We would be poor, too; but without privation. And doubtless we are patient; except with hardships and with disagreeables. And so with all the virtues.

Feast of Vincent de Paul, Founder of the Congregation of the Mission (Lazarists), 1660 If I mistake, He will read more

Feast of Vincent de Paul, Founder of the Congregation of the Mission (Lazarists), 1660 If I mistake, He will forgive me. I do not fear Him: I only fear lest, able to see and write these things, I should fail of witnessing and myself be, after all, a castaway -- no king but a talker: no disciple of Jesus, ready to go with Him to the death, but an arguer about the truth.

Taken as practical counsel for survival, the Fifth Commandment is now almost a dead letter. Yet if our world were read more

Taken as practical counsel for survival, the Fifth Commandment is now almost a dead letter. Yet if our world were truly Christian, the change might be a reason for rejoicing. We no longer need our families -- we are therefore free to love them with complete unselfishness. Now at last it is possible to honour our parents genuinely, because they no longer have the power to kill us if we don't. The old sort of honour was sometimes an ugly sham: the son who respects Father only out of fear of punishment is not much of a son, just as the Christian who worships God only out of fear of hell is precious little of a Christian. But the new sort of honour can be a beautiful and holy thing. There are many sweet and sane families bound together by love; there are plenty of experts who remind us that only love can make the modern family work at all. And one must admit that there are plenty of parents very willing to be honoured. The catch is that not so many of them are willing to be honourable.

Our hearts deceive us, because we leave them to themselves, are absent from them, taken up in outward rules and read more

Our hearts deceive us, because we leave them to themselves, are absent from them, taken up in outward rules and forms of living and praying. But this kind of praying, which takes all its thoughts and words only from the state of our hearts, makes it impossible for us to be strangers to ourselves. The strength of every sin, the power of every evil temper, the most secret workings of our hearts, the weakness of any or all our virtues, is with a noonday clearness forced to be seen, as soon as the heart is made our prayer book, and we pray nothing, but according to what we read, and find there.

It is not enough to hold that God did great things for our fathers: not enough to pride ourselves on read more

It is not enough to hold that God did great things for our fathers: not enough to pride ourselves on the inheritance of victories of faith: not enough to build the sepulchres of those who were martyred by men unwilling, in their day of trial as we may be in our own, to hear new voices of a living God. Our duty is to see whether God is with us; whether we expect great things from Him; whether we do not practically place Him far off, forgetting that, if He is, He is about us, speaking to us words that have not been heard before, guiding us to paths on which earlier generations have not been able to enter. There is -- most terrible thought! -- a practical atheism, orthodox in language, reverent in bearing, which can enter a Christian church and charm the conscience to rest with shadowy traditions; an atheism which grows incessantly within us if we separate what cannot be separated with impunity, the secular from the divine, the past and the future from the present, earth from heaven, the things of Caesar from the things of God.

Commemoration of William Morris, Artist, Writer, 1896 Commemoration of George Kennedy Bell, Bishop of Chichester, Ecumenist, Peacemaker, 1958 The read more

Commemoration of William Morris, Artist, Writer, 1896 Commemoration of George Kennedy Bell, Bishop of Chichester, Ecumenist, Peacemaker, 1958 The progress of mankind has always depended upon those who, seemingly isolated and powerless in their own day, have seen their vision and remained true to it. In the darkening corridors of time, they preserved integral their vision of the daylight at the end. This is a matter not of calculation but of faith. Our work may be small and its results invisible to us. But we may rest assured it will come to fruition in God's good time.

We can do nothing, we say sometimes, we can only pray. That, we feel, is a terribly precarious second-best. So read more

We can do nothing, we say sometimes, we can only pray. That, we feel, is a terribly precarious second-best. So long as we can fuss and work and rush about, so long as we can lend a hand, we have some hope; but if we have to fall back upon God -- ah, then things must be critical indeed!