Thou diest a traitor鈥檚 death;鈥攂ut wert thou ours, One Theme, as Low as Earth can yield, I chuse, 鈥淎nd don鈥檛 you like Beethoven?鈥? 鈥楲ike your dear invalid, I am especially fond of St. Luke鈥檚 account of the dying thief. There is something so touching in his looking at such a moment to the Saviour, whose Blood, shed for his salvation, was at that moment trickling down in his view; and there is something so sublime in our Lord鈥檚 conferring Eternal Life,鈥攕uch a gift,鈥攁t the time when He was Himself undergoing the terrible sentence of death! We may envy your dear suffering child, my Laura, when we think how soon, in human expectation, his eyes will behold the King in His beauty. 久久热,久久视频,久久热在线视频精品,这里只有精品,99热 鈥極ur Christmas at Batala went off beautifully, and has, I think, left a feeling of thankfulness on both Mera Bhatija鈥檚 mind and my own. The following day we both came to Amritsar. Yesterday was the grand opening of the Alexandra School. Mr. Clark asked me to write an account of it for his report. I did not like the task; it makes one feel so penny-a-linerish; and one is afraid of writing to please this or that person, etc.; but I could not well refuse, so I have been scribbling something in pencil in the cold, which I mean to submit to dear Emily鈥檚 criticism.... 鈥淪he came on the train from Brant?me and rang my bell in Paris. She kept me up talking till four o鈥檆lock in the morning鈥攏ot of you all the time. Don鈥檛 imagine it. You were just interestingly incidental.鈥? ???To Venus she went, Perhaps the shock of so great a change in his surroundings had accelerated changes in his opinions, just as the cocoons of silkworms, when sent in baskets by rail, hatch before their time through the novelty of heat and jolting. But however this may be, his belief in the stories concerning the Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus Christ, and hence his faith in all the other Christian miracles, had dropped off him once and for ever. The investigation he had made in consequence of Mr. Shaw鈥檚 rebuke, hurried though it was, had left a deep impression upon him, and now he was well enough to read he made the New Testament his chief study, going through it in the spirit which Mr. Shaw had desired of him, that is to say as one who wished neither to believe nor disbelieve, but cared only about finding out whether he ought to believe or no. The more he read in this spirit the more the balance seemed to lie in favour of unbelief, till, in the end, all further doubt became impossible, and he saw plainly enough that, whatever else might be true, the story that Christ had died, come to life again, and been carried from earth through clouds into the heavens could not now be accepted by unbiassed people. It was well he had found it out so soon. In one way or another it was sure to meet him sooner or later. He would probably have seen it years ago if he had not been hoodwinked by people who were paid for hoodwinking him. What should he have done, he asked himself, if he had not made his present discovery till years later, when he was more deeply committed to the life of a clergyman? Should he have had the courage to face it, or would he not more probably have evolved some excellent reason for continuing to think as he had thought hitherto? Should he have had the courage to break away even from his present curacy?