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The Silent Isle by Arthur Christopher Benson
page 31 of 308 (10%)
mixture, such as we here endure, of pain and pleasure, then our aim
ought to be at all costs to learn the lesson of endurance; or rather,
if we hold firmly to the sense of law, minute, pervading, unalterable
law, to welcome every step we make in the direction of courage and
hopefulness. In the midst of atrocious sorrow and suffering there is no
sense so blessed as the sense that dawns upon the suffering heart that
it can indeed endure what it had represented to itself as unendurable,
and that however sharply it suffers, there is still an inalienable
residue of force and vitality which cannot be exhausted.




IV


Such a perfect day: the sky cloudless; sunlight like pale gold or
amber; soft mists in the distance; a delicate air, gently stirred,
fresh, with no poisonous nip in it. I knew last night it would be fine,
for the gale had blown itself out, and when I came in at sunset the
chimneys and shoulders of the Hall stood out dark against the orange
glow. The beloved house seemed to welcome me back, and as I came across
the footpath, through the pasture, I saw in the brightly-lighted
kitchen the hands of some one whose face I could not see, in the golden
circle of lamplight, deftly moving, preparing something, for my use
perhaps.

Yet for all that I am ill at ease; and as I walked to-day, far and fast
in the sun-warmed lanes, my thoughts came yapping and growling round me
like a pack of curs--undignified, troublesome, vexatious thoughts; I
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