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Updated: May 14, 2025
There it stands at its zenith, in the permanent blaze of a perennial mid-day; there it sets the time for the Catholic world amid the ever-changing and conflicting problems of human history. Stat Crux dum volvitur orbis. A speech delivered in the Assembly Hall of the Knights of Columbus, St. John, N.B., December 22, 1918. "The Catholic Mind" of New York reproduced it in one of its issues.
I saw the sunlight as it streamed through an upper window along the rough log wall and flecked her white dress with ever-changing spots of quivering gold, and, as she drew nearer to my standing-place, played softly amid the masses of her dark-brown hair, giving it a tinge of glory.
I am not going to say that we have not just as good in Australia, but the wonderful greenness and the trees were such a change to us after Egypt that the boys just hung from the carriage-windows, and as there was a good number that could not get these vantage-points, they scrambled onto the roofs of the carriages, so as not to miss any of that wonderful panorama of ever-changing beauty.
On entering the forests, on the rising land in the interior, the blue and green, the smallest brown, no bigger than the humble-bee, with two long feathers in the tail, and the little forked-tail purple-throated humming- birds, glitter before you in ever-changing attitudes.
But the bay was always full of interest for me, with its ever-changing colour, and the imprint of the ripples in the gleaming silver-sand. And the silver moonlight silvers the silver-sand, while the skeletons of the Xth sink deeper and deeper, to be rediscovered perhaps at some future geological period, and recognised as a type of primitive man.
Each of our mouths were graced with dingy pipes, and while we puffed away diligently, our eyes were fixed upon the cheerful blaze, silently watching the ever-changing embers, and meditating upon the events of the day.
Like the shelter-house, it was a cow-shed in which the Almighty received the poor ones of the earth. On entering, Pierre felt himself to be in some common hall trod by the footsteps of an ever-changing crowd. But the brilliant sunlight no longer streamed on the pallid walls, the tapers burning at every altar simply gleamed like stars amidst the uncertain gloom which filled the building.
What I would refer to is the aspect of variety, of abundance, of the waves on the sea of life, of the ever-changing light and shade on their ceaseless undulations. There is the opposite aspect of pure extension, of the unwinking blue of the sky, of the silent hint of immeasureability in the distant circle of the horizon.
If his critical education suffices, he is able to discriminate under every ornament in architecture, under every stroke of the brush in a picture, under each phrase of literary composition, the particular sentiment out of which the ornament, the stroke, and the phrase have sprung; he is a spectator of the inward drama which has developed itself in the breast of the artist or writer; the choice of words, the length or shortness of the period, the species of metaphor, the accent of a verse, the chain of reasoning all are to him an indication; while his eyes are reading the text his mind and soul are following the steady flow and ever-changing series of emotions and conceptions from which this text has issued; he is working out its psychology.
And if the land sunk only some fifty feet, which is a very little indeed, child, in this huge, ever-changing world, then the tide would come up to Reading again, and the greater part of London and the county of Middlesex be drowned in salt water. How dreadful that would be! Dreadful indeed. God grant that it may never happen.
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