The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 09, No. 51, January, 1862 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 354 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 09, No. 51, January, 1862.

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 09, No. 51, January, 1862 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 354 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 09, No. 51, January, 1862.
mentire, aliquid haeret, seemed to be his favourite rule of rhetorick.  That he is actually where he says he is the post-mark would seem to confirm; that he was received with the publick demonstrations he describes would appear consonant with what we know of the habits of those regions; but further than this I venture not to decide.  I have sometimes suspected a vein of humour in him which leads him to speak by contraries; but since, in the unrestrained intercourse of private life, I have never observed in him any striking powers of invention, I am the more willing to put a certain qualified faith in the incidents and the details of life and manners which give to his narratives some of the interest and entertainment which characterize a Century Sermon.

It may be expected of me that I should say something to justify myself with the world for a seeming inconsistency with my well-known principles in allowing my youngest son to raise a company for the war, a fact known to all through the medium of the publick prints.  I did reason with the young man, but expellas naturam furca, tamenusque recurrit.  Having myself been a chaplain in 1812, I could the less wonder that a man of war had sprung from my loins.  It was, indeed, grievous to send my Benjamin, the child of my old age; but after the discomfiture of Manassas, I with my own hands did buckle on his armour, trusting in the great Comforter for strength according to my need.  For truly the memory of a brave son dead in his shroud were a greater staff of my declining years than a coward, though his days might be long in the land and he should get much goods.  It is not till our earthen vessels are broken that we find and truly possess the treasure that was laid up in them. Migravi in animam meam, I have sought refuge in my own soul; nor would I be shamed by the heathen comedian with his Nequam illud verbum, bene vult, nisi bene facit.  During our dark days, I read constantly in the inspired book of Job, which I believe to contain more food to maintain the fibre of the soul for right living and high thinking than all pagan literature together, though I would by no means vilipend the study of the classicks.  There I read that Job said in his despair, even as the fool saith in his heart there is no God,—­“The tabernacles of robbers prosper, and they that provoke God are secure.” Job xii. 6.  But I sought farther till I found this Scripture also, which I would have those perpend who have striven to turn our Israel aside to the worship of strange gods:—­“If I did despise the cause of my man-servant or of my maid-servant when they contended with me, what then shall I do when God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what shall I answer him?” Job xxxi. 13-14.  On this text I preached a discourse on the last day of Fasting and Humiliation with general acceptance, though there were not wanting one or two Laodiceans who said that I should have waited till the President announced his policy.  But let us hope and pray, remembering this of Saint Gregory, Vult Deus rogari, vult cogi, vult quadam importunitate vinci.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 09, No. 51, January, 1862 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.