Oneself
The only thing one can usually change in one's situation is one's self. And yet one can't change that either—only ask our Lord to do so, keeping on meanwhile with the sacraments, prayers, and ordinary rule of state. ... When the need comes God never fails to carry out in us His otherwise impossible instructions. In fact He always has to do all the things—all the prayers, all the virtues. ... Having to depend solely on God is what we all dread most. And of course that just shows how very much, how exclusively, we have been depending on things.
—C.S. Lewis, Letters.
Dum Vivimus Vivamus
Live while you live, the Epicure would say,
And seize the pleasures of the present day!*
Live while you live, the Sacred Preacher cries,
And give to God each moment as it flies.^
Lord in my views let both united be;
I live in pleasure when I live to thee.
—Dr. Doddridge, epigram on his family arms.
*1 Cor 15:32.
^Eccl 9:10.
And seize the pleasures of the present day!*
Live while you live, the Sacred Preacher cries,
And give to God each moment as it flies.^
Lord in my views let both united be;
I live in pleasure when I live to thee.
—Dr. Doddridge, epigram on his family arms.
*1 Cor 15:32.
^Eccl 9:10.
'Life'
The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man Less than a span,
In his conception wretched, from the womb So to the tomb;
Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years With cares and fears.
Who then to frail mortality shall trust,
But limns on water, or but writes in dust.
Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, What life is best?
Courts are but only superficial schools To dandle fools:
The rural parts are turn'd into a den Of savage men:
And where's city from foul vice so free,
But may be term'd the worst of all the three?
Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, Or pains his head:
Those that live single, take it for a curse, Or do things worse:
Some would have children: those that have them moan Or wish them gone:
What is it, then, to have, or have no wife,
But single thraldom, or a double strife?
Our own affections still at home to please Is a disease:
To cross the seas to any foreign soil, Peril and toil:
Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease, We are worse in peace;-
What then remains, but that we still should cry
For being born, or, being born, to die?
—From Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, 1651. This poem was signed “Ignoto” in the first ed. It was first ascribed to Bacon in Farnaby’s Florilegium, 1629, and has elsewhere been ascribed to Raleigh, Donne, and Henry Harrinton. The evidences of Bacon’s authorship are briefly stated in Dr. Hannah’s Courtly Poets, ed. 1870, p. 117. The poem is paraphrased from a Greek epigram variously attributed to Poseidippus, to the comic poet, Plato, and to Crates, the. lyric poet, beginning:
Ποίην τις βιότοιο τάμοι τριβον; ειν ἀγορῆ μεν
Νείκεα καὶ χαλεπταὶ πρηξιες κ.τ.λ.
(Anthol. Græca, ix. 359.)
A literal translation of this epigram reads: “What path in life shall a person cut through! In the forum are quarrels and difficult suits; at home cares; in the fields enough of toils; in the sea fright; in a foreign land fear, if you have anything; but if you are in a difficulty, vexation. Have you a wife? you will not be without anxiety. Are you unmarried? you live still more solitary. Children are troubles. If childless life is a maimed condition. Youth is thoughtless. Gray hairs are strengthless. There is a choice of one of these two things, either never to have been born, or to die as soon as born.” (Bohn.)
In his conception wretched, from the womb So to the tomb;
Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years With cares and fears.
Who then to frail mortality shall trust,
But limns on water, or but writes in dust.
Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, What life is best?
Courts are but only superficial schools To dandle fools:
The rural parts are turn'd into a den Of savage men:
And where's city from foul vice so free,
But may be term'd the worst of all the three?
Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, Or pains his head:
Those that live single, take it for a curse, Or do things worse:
Some would have children: those that have them moan Or wish them gone:
What is it, then, to have, or have no wife,
But single thraldom, or a double strife?
Our own affections still at home to please Is a disease:
To cross the seas to any foreign soil, Peril and toil:
Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease, We are worse in peace;-
What then remains, but that we still should cry
For being born, or, being born, to die?
—From Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, 1651. This poem was signed “Ignoto” in the first ed. It was first ascribed to Bacon in Farnaby’s Florilegium, 1629, and has elsewhere been ascribed to Raleigh, Donne, and Henry Harrinton. The evidences of Bacon’s authorship are briefly stated in Dr. Hannah’s Courtly Poets, ed. 1870, p. 117. The poem is paraphrased from a Greek epigram variously attributed to Poseidippus, to the comic poet, Plato, and to Crates, the. lyric poet, beginning:
Ποίην τις βιότοιο τάμοι τριβον; ειν ἀγορῆ μεν
Νείκεα καὶ χαλεπταὶ πρηξιες κ.τ.λ.
(Anthol. Græca, ix. 359.)
A literal translation of this epigram reads: “What path in life shall a person cut through! In the forum are quarrels and difficult suits; at home cares; in the fields enough of toils; in the sea fright; in a foreign land fear, if you have anything; but if you are in a difficulty, vexation. Have you a wife? you will not be without anxiety. Are you unmarried? you live still more solitary. Children are troubles. If childless life is a maimed condition. Youth is thoughtless. Gray hairs are strengthless. There is a choice of one of these two things, either never to have been born, or to die as soon as born.” (Bohn.)
Recollections
I know not any thing more pleasant, or more instructive, than to compare experience with expectation, or to register from time to time the difference between idea and reality. It is by this kind of observation that we grow daily less liable to be disappointed. ... At least record it to yourself before custom has reconciled you to the scenes before you, and the disparity of your discoveries to your hopes has vanished from your mind. It is a rule never to be forgotten, that whatever strikes strongly, should be described while the first impression remains fresh upon the mind.
—Samuel Johnson, letter to James Boswell, in his 'Life' volume 1.
—Samuel Johnson, letter to James Boswell, in his 'Life' volume 1.
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