Paul Faber, surgeon / by George Macdonald.

  • MacDonald, George, 1824-1905.
Date:
1883
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: Paul Faber, surgeon / by George Macdonald. Source: Wellcome Collection.

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    the day, in joy to the heavy-hearted, in laughter to the dull-spirited. Let them all be glad with reason, and merry without revel. Ah ! what gifts in music, in the drama, in the tale, in the picture, in the spectacle, in books and models, in flowers and friendly feasting, what true gifts might not the mammon of unrighteousness, changed back into the money of God, give to men and women, bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh ! Hon would you not spend your money for the Lord, if he needed it at your hand ! He does need it; for he that spends it upon the least of his fellows, spends it upon his Lord. To hold fast upon God with one hand, and open wide the other to your neighbour—that is religion ; that is the law and the prophets, and the true way to all' better things that are yet to come.—Lord, defend us from Mammon. Hold thy temple against his foul invasion. Purify our money with thy air and thy sun, that it may be our slave, and thou our master. Amen.” The moment his sermon was ended, the curate always set himself to forget it. This for three reasons : first, he was so dissatisfied with it, that to think of it was painful— and the more, that many things he might have said, and many better ways of saying what he had said, would con- stantly present themselves. Second, it was useless to brood over what could not be bettered; and, third, it was hurtful, inasmuch as it prevented the growth of new, hope- ful, invigorating thought, and took from his strength, and the quality of his following endeavour. A man’s labours must pass like the sunrises and sunsets of the world. The next thing, not the last, must be hiscare. When hereached home, he would therefore use means to this end of diver- sion, and not unfrequently would write verses. Here are those he wrote that afternoon. LET YOUR LIGHT SO SHINE. Sometimes, O Lord, thou lightest in my head A lamp that well might Pharos all the lands ; Anon the light will neither burn nor spread. Shrouded in danger gray the beacon stands.