Newman as a Man of Letters

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Macmillan, 1925 - 329 من الصفحات

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الصفحة 112 - LEAD, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead thou me on ! The night is dark, and I am far from home, — Lead thou me on ! Keep thou my feet ; I do not ask to see The distant scene, — one step enough for me.
الصفحة 72 - God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty...
الصفحة 238 - He is mainly occupied in merely removing the obstacles which hinder the free and unembarrassed action of those about him; and he concurs with their movements rather than takes the initiative himself.
الصفحة 311 - The pursuit of perfection, then, is the pursuit of sweetness and light. He who works for sweetness and light, works to make reason and the will of God prevail. He who works for machinery, he who works for hatred, works only for confusion. Culture looks beyond machinery, culture hates hatred ; culture has one great passion, the passion for sweetness and light.
الصفحة 239 - He is patient, forbearing and resigned on philosophical principles; he submits to pain because it is inevitable, to bereavement because it is irreparable and to death because it is his destiny.
الصفحة 234 - Thus is that form of universal knowledge, of which I have on a former occasion spoken, set up in the individual intellect, and constitutes its perfection. Possessed of this real illumination, the mind never views any part of the extended subject-matter of knowledge without recollecting that it is but a part, or without the associations which spring from this recollection. It makes...
الصفحة 234 - The enlargement consists, not merely in the passive reception into the mind of a number of ideas hitherto unknown to it, but in the mind's energetic and simultaneous action upon and towards and among those new ideas which are rushing in upon it.
الصفحة 289 - Let us consider, too, how differently young and old are affected by the words of some classic author, such as Homer or Horace. Passages, which to a boy are but rhetorical commonplaces, neither better nor worse than a hundred others, which any clever writer might supply, which he gets by heart and thinks very fine, and imitates, as he thinks successfully, in his own flowing versification...
الصفحة 127 - A strange refreshment : for I feel in me An inexpressive lightness, and a sense Of freedom, as I were at length myself, And ne'er had been before. How still it is ! I hear no more the busy beat of time, No, nor my fluttering breath, nor struggling pulse ; Nor does one moment differ from the next. I had a dream ; yes : —some one softly said " He's gone ; " and then a sigh went round 'the room.
الصفحة 123 - Take me away, and in the lowest deep There let me be, And there in hope the lone night-watches keep, Told out for me. There, motionless and happy in my pain, Lone, not forlorn, — There will I sing my sad perpetual strain, Until the mom.

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