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And together with the very human desire to know the worst, was the puritanical impulse to bring it about. "You forget that this is the last place they would care to invade." And in Brewster's face Peggy seemed to read that for her martyrdom was the only wear. Bravely she put it on. "Monty, I forget nothing that I really know. But this is a case in which you are quite wrong.
The altarpiece was no longer miraculously perfect, painted under infallible guidance, but the human hand discerned in the work was appealing to a reverent tenderness safer from the gusts of discovery.
Eleanor understood this trait of human nature very well, thanks to the fact that as a volunteer she had helped out the charity workers in her own city more than once. And as a consequence she did not at all resent the dark looks that were cast at her by the poor woman whose every glance brought home to her more sharply the disaster that the fire had brought.
An instrument or tool used in the accomplishment of a purpose possesses the same negative merit or demerit, whether it be a thing without a will or an unwilling human being.
These five articles were,—kneeling at the communion,—the observance of holidays,—episcopal confirmation,—private baptism,—and the private dispensation of the Lord’s Supper. It will at once be seen that these innovations were directly contrary to the presbyterian principle, which holds that human inventions ought not to be added to divine institutions.
For here, many a hapless political prisoner languished for years in abject misery, a prey to the heat and glare of summer and to the fierce gales of bitter winter nights. Rock-cut steps and ruined towers still remain as mementoes of those dark days, when callous human gaolers worthily filled the places of the absent Sirens.
Might not only every wife and every mother not only every babe that comes into the world, if that were possible not only all marriage, the foundation and sine qua non of the civilized state bless and thank the showing, or taking for granted, that motherhood, fatherhood, sexuality, and all that belongs to them, can be asserted, where it comes to question, openly, joyously, proudly, "without shame or the need of shame," from the highest artistic and human considerations but, with reverence be it written, on such attempt to justify the base and start of the whole divine scheme in humanity, might not the Creative Power itself deign a smile of approval?
The realism of Defoe and Hogarth, and the Spanish Picaresque novel. Sentimentalism in the eighteenth century. The poetry and painting of nature. The great revolution and the romantic movement. Great literature and art are not national but human.
When Iola opened her school she took pains to get acquainted with the parents of the children, and she gained their confidence and co-operation. Her face was a passport to their hearts. Ignorant of books, human faces were the scrolls from which they had been reading for ages. They had been the sunshine and shadow of their lives.
As the new year was ushered in, the lonely traveller between Genoa and Brussels little thought that it was to be almost his last, and that soon he would be permitted to throw off the earthly tabernacle, and put on the crown of glory. His active brain was busily employed at this time in considering how best he could wage war with human cruelty.
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