Poets From Scotland

"But tell me how it is that she could be so beautiful without any heart at all — without any place even for a heart to live in." "I cannot quite tell," she said; "but I am sure she would not look so beautiful if she did not take means to make herself look more beautiful than she is. And then, you know, you began by being in love with her before you saw her beauty … But the chief thing that makes her beautiful is this: that, although she loves no man, she loves the love of any man; and when she finds one in her power, her desire to bewitch him and gain his love (not for the sake of his love either, but that she may be conscious anew of her own beauty, through the admiration he manifests), makes her very lovely—with a self-destructive beauty..."

"What distressed me most — more even than my own folly — was the perplexing question, How can beauty and ugliness dwell so near?"

"That is always the way with you men; you believe nothing the first time; and it is foolish enough to let mere repetition convince you of what you consider in itself unbelievable."

"What we call evil, is the only and best shape, which, for the person and his condition at the time, could be assumed by the best good."

"Alas! how easily things go wrong! A sigh too deep or a kiss too long, And then comes a mist and a weeping rain, And life is never the same again."

"I firmly believe people have hitherto been a great deal too much taken up about doctrine and far too little about practice. The word doctrine, as used in the Bible, means teaching of duty, not theory. I preached a sermon about this. We are far too anxious to be definite and to have finished, well-polished, sharp-edged systems — forgetting that the more perfect a theory about the infinite, the surer it is to be wrong, the more impossible it is to be right."

"If sin must be kept alive, then hell must be kept alive; but while I regard the smallest sin as infinitely loathsome, I do not believe that any being, never good enough to see the essential ugliness of sin, could sin so as to deserve such punishment. I am not now, however, dealing with the question of the duration of punishment, but with the idea of punishment itself; and would only say in passing, that the notion that a creature born imperfect, nay, born with impulses to evil not of his own generating, and which he could not help having, a creature to whom the true face of God was never presented, and by whom it never could have been seen, should be thus condemned, is as loathsome a lie against God as could find place in heart too undeveloped to understand what justice is, and too low to look up into the face of Jesus."

"I record the conviction that in one way or another, special individual help is given to every creature to endure to the end. It has been my own experience, that always when suffering, whether mental or bodily, approached the point where further endurance appeared impossible, the pulse of it began to ebb and a lull ensued. You are tender-hearted, and you want to be true, and are trying to be; learn these two things: Never be discouraged because good things get on so slowly here; and never fail daily to do that good which lies next to your hand. Do not be in a hurry, but be diligent. Enter into the sublime patience of the Lord. Trust to God to weave your little thread into the great web, though the pattern shows it not yet. When God's people are able and willing thus to labor and wait, remember that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day; the grand harvest of the ages shall come to its reaping, and the day shall broaden itself to a thousand years, and the thousand years shall show themselves as a perfect and finished day."

""In the midst of life we are in death," said one; it is more true that in the midst of death we are in life. Life is the only reality; what men call death is but a shadow — a word for that which cannot be — a negation, owing the very idea of itself to that which it would deny. But for life there could be no death. If God were not, there would not even be nothing. Not even nothingness preceded life. Nothingness owes its very idea to existence."

"But God lets men have their playthings, like the children they are, that they may learn to distinguish them from true possessions. If they are not learning that he takes them from them, and tries the other way: for lack of them and its misery, they will perhaps seek the true!"

"Two people may be at the same spot in manners and behaviour, and yet one may be getting better, and the other worse, which is the greatest of differences that could possibly exist between them."

"I think the reason children get tired of their toys so soon is just that it is against human nature to be really interested in what is of no use. If you say that a beautiful thing is always interesting, I answer, that a beautiful thing is of the highest use. Is not the diamond that flashes all its colours into the heart of a poet as useful as the diamond with which the glazier divides the sheets of glass into panes for our windows?"

"To receive honestly is the best thanks for a good thing."

"God Himself — His thoughts, His will, His love, His judgments are men's home. To think His thoughts, to choose His will, to judge His judgments, and thus to know that He is in us, with us, is to be at home. And to pass through the valley of the shadow of death is the way home, but only thus, that as all changes have hitherto lead us nearer to this home, the knowledge of God, so this greatest of all outward changes — for it is but an outward change — will surely usher us into a region where there will be fresh possibilities of drawing nigh in heart, soul, and mind to the Father of us all."

"Division has done more to hide Christ from the view of men than all the infidelity that has ever been spoken."

"All is loss that comes between us and Christ."

"Come, come to Him who made thy heart; Come weary and oppressed; To come to Jesus is thy part; His part, to give thee rest."

"That which is in a man, not that which lies beyond his vision is the main factor in what is about to befall him: the operation upon him is the event."

"We are often unable to tell people what they need to know because they want to know something else."

"If there be music in my reader, I would gladly wake it. Let fairytale of mine go for a firefly that now flashes, now is dark, but may flash again. Caught in a hand which does not love its kind, it will turn to an insignificant, ugly thing, that can neither flash nor fly. The best way with music, I imagine, is not to bring the forces of our intellect to bear upon it, but to be still and let it work on that part of us for whose it exists. We spoil countless precious things by intellectual greed. He who will be a man, and will not be a child, must — he cannot help himself — become a little man, that is, a dwarf. He will, however, need no consolation, for he is sure to think himself a very large creature indeed. If any strain of my "broken music" make a child's eyes flash, or his mother's grow for a moment dim, my labour will not have been in vain."

""But surely you would explain your idea to one who asked you?" I say again, if I cannot draw a horse, I will not write THIS IS A HORSE under what I foolishly meant for one. Any key to a work of imagination would be nearly, if not quite, as absurd. The tale is there, not to hide, but to show: if it show nothing at your window, do not open your door to it; leave it out in the cold. To ask me to explain, is to say, "Roses! Boil them, or we won't have them!" My tales may not be roses, but I will not boil them. So long as I think my dog can bark, I will not sit up to bark for him."

""But a man may then imagine in your work what he pleases, what you never meant!" Not what he pleases, but what he can. If he be not a true man, he will draw evil out of the best; we need not mind how he treats any work of art! If he be a true man, he will imagine true things: what matter whether I meant them or not? They are there none the less that I cannot claim putting them there! One difference between God's work and man's is, that, while God's work cannot mean more than he meant, man's must mean more than he meant. For in everything that God has made, there is layer upon layer of ascending significance; also he expresses the same thought in higher and higher kinds of that thought: it is God's things, his embodied thoughts, which alone a man has to use, modified and adapted to his own purposes, for the expression of his thoughts; therefore he cannot help his words and figures falling into such combinations in the mind of another as he had himself not foreseen, so many are the thoughts allied to every other thought, so many are the relations involved in every figure, so many the facts hinted in every symbol. A man may well himself discover truth in what he wrote; for he was dealing all the time with things that came from thoughts beyond his own."

"A fairytale, a sonata, a gathering storm, a limitless night, seizes you and sweeps you away: do you begin at once to wrestle with it and ask whence its power over you, whither it is carrying you? The law of each is in the mind of its composer; that law makes one man feel this way, another man feel that way. To one the sonata is a world of odour and beauty, to another of soothing only and sweetness. To one, the cloudy rendezvous is a wild dance, with a terror at its heart; to another, a majestic march of heavenly hosts, with Truth in their centre pointing their course, but as yet restraining her voice. The greatest forces lie in the region of the uncomprehended. I will go farther. The best thing you can do for your fellow, next to rousing his conscience, is — not to give him things to think about, but to wake things up that are in him; or say, to make him think things for himself. The best Nature does for us is to work in us such moods in which thoughts of high import arise. Does any aspect of Nature wake but one thought? Does she ever suggest only one definite thing? Does she make any two men in the same place at the same moment think the same thing? Is she therefore a failure, because she is not definite? Is it nothing that she rouses the something deeper than the understanding — the power that underlies thoughts? Does she not set feeling, and so thinking at work? Would it be better that she did this after one fashion and not after many fashions? Nature is mood-engendering, thought-provoking: such ought the sonata, such ought the fairytale to be."

"A fairytale, like a butterfly or a bee, helps itself on all sides, sips at every wholesome flower, and spoils not one. The true fairytale is, to my mind, very like the sonata. We all know that a sonata means something; and where there is the faculty of talking with suitable vagueness, and choosing metaphor sufficiently loose, mind may approach mind, in the interpretation of a sonata, with the result of a more or less contenting consciousness of sympathy. But if two or three men sat down to write each what the sonata meant to him, what approximation to definite idea would be the result? Little enough — and that little more than needful. We should find it had roused related, if not identical, feelings, but probably not one common thought. Has the sonata therefore failed? Had it undertaken to convey, or ought it to be expected to impart anything defined, anything notionally recognizable? "But words are not music; words at least are meant and fitted to carry a precise meaning!" It is very seldom indeed that they carry the exact meaning of any user of them! And if they can be so used as to convey definite meaning, it does not follow that they ought never to carry anything else. Words are like things that may be variously employed to various ends. They can convey a scientific fact, or throw a shadow of her child's dream on the heart of a mother. They are things to put together like the pieces of a dissected map, or to arrange like the notes on a stave."

"A fairytale is not an allegory. There may be allegory in it, but it is not an allegory. He must be an artist indeed who can, in any mode, produce a strict allegory that is not a weariness to the spirit."

"To send the injur'd unredress'd away, How great soe'er th' offender, or the wrong'd Howe'er obscure, is wicked—weak and vile: Degrades, denies, and should dethrone a king!"

"As Love can exquisitely bless, Love only feels the marvellous of pain; Opens new veins of torture in the soul, And wakes the nerve where agonies are born."

"True courage scorns To vent her prowess in a storm of words; And, to the valiant, actions speak alone."

"To exult Ev'n o'er an enemy oppress'd, and heap Affliction on the afflicted, is the mark And the mean triumph of a dastard soul."

"To-day, in snow array'd, stern winter rules The ravag'd plain—Anon the teeming earth Unlocks her stores, and spring adorns the year: And shall not we—while fate, like winter, frowns, Expect revolving bliss?"

"Keen are the pangs Of hapless love, and passion unapprov'd: But where consenting wishes meet, and vows Reciprocally breath'd, confirm the tie, Joy rolls on joy, an inexhausted stream! And virtue crowns the sacred scene."

"Thy fatal shafts unerring move, I bow before thine altar, Love!"

"Writing is all a lottery -- I have been a loser by the works of the greatest men of the age."

"Those sculptur'd halls my feet shall never tread, Where varnish'd vice and vanity combin'd, To dazzle and seduce, their banners spread, And forge vile shackles for the free-born mind."

"Thy spirit, Independence, let me share, Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye. Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky."

"Facts are stubborn things."

"Beware in making your sporters your councellors, and delight not to keepe ordinarily in your companie comedians or balladines."

"He was so crafty and cunning in petty things, as the circumventing of any great man, the change of a Favourite, &c. insomuch as a very wise man was wont to say that he believed him the wisest fool in Christendom, meaning him wise in small things, but a fool in weighty affairs."

"[O]ne is faced with the problem of his celebrated outbursts against Puritans – as for instance when he described them in March 1604 as a "sect unable to be suffered in any well-governed commonwealth", and the deprivations for nonconformity which occurred during his first years on the throne. The explanation, however, would seem to lie in raison d’état, as that was interpreted by the King. His exposure in Scotland at an early age to Calvinist theology had left him favourably disposed towards its teachings, yet his experience there of religious rebellion had also made him politically suspicious of anything remotely akin to presbyterianism."

"James I was much more sympathetic to Calvinist doctrine than his predecessor Elizabeth, and to that extent those Puritan nonconformists were correct who hoped for better things on the queen's death in 1603. The proof of the king's Calvinist affinities was conveniently published as a pamphlet in 1626, by Frances Rous, who was the step-brother of John Pym and an outspoken parliamentary critic of Arminianism. Two examples of this royal Calvinism must suffice. In 1604 James was officially quoted as saying that "predestination and election dependeth not upon any qualities, actions or works of man, which be mutable, but upon God his eternal and immutable decree and purpose." Similarly in 1619 he wrote that "God draws by his effectual grace, out of that attainted and corrupt mass [mankind], whom he pleaseth for the work of his mercy, leaving the rest to their own ways which all lead to perdition.""

"The British Isles were frequently torn with religious dissension throughout most of the 1600s. In fact, it had been in a rather desperate effort to produce at least some degree of unity and loyalty among the fractious Christian groups found in his new realm, that King James had summoned a group of fifty-four scholars who were charged to produce the first officially authorized English translation of the complete Bible, naively assuming that surely the many varieties of Christians represented among his religious subjects could at least agree on this one unifying force for their common faith. The translators began their famous task shortly before the three shiploads of intrepid Jamestown adventurers left their Mother Country for the New World. The king's scholars continued laboring toward the completion of their magnificent finished product- the King James Version of Holy Scripture- which was finally published in 1611 (four years after Jamestown had been founded). While this Bible did indeed become a principle religious building block for all the English-speaking Christians who followed in the wake of those first colonists, nevertheless over the next two centuries that would be about the only thing that Virginia's Christians would passionately hold in common."

"On the morning of 15 May 1607 a hundred and forty-three men (there were no women in this expedition) disembarked from having been crowded aboard Captain Christopher Newport's three ships during the past four months of their tedious sea passage. They found themselves on an island near the north bank of a tidal river, where they then set about establishing the first permanent English settlement in North America. With their exuberant native patriotism having bounded with them onto the shore of this largely-unknown continent, these alien settlers immediately named both the sparkling river and their little fortress settlement for their young sovereign of the Stuart dynasty, James I of England (also known as James VI of Scotland). Whenever King James was living in Scotland he dutifully worshipped with the (Presbyterian) Church of Scotland- a group he did not especially like- and whenever he was living in England he rather disdainfully worshiped in the Anglican Church- a group which overwhelmingly distrusted him... and vice versa."

"[I]t is certain, James's chief care, after his accession, was to maintain the prerogative royal in its utmost extent, nay, to carry it higher than any of his predecessors. He must, at the time I am now speaking of, have conceived a larger notion than had been hitherto formed, of the power of an English king, since when he came to Newark [21 April 1603], he ordered a cut-purse to be hanged by his sole warrant, and without tryal. It cannot be denied, that this was beyond the lawful power of a king of England, and directly contrary to the privileges of the English nation. Probably, care was taken to warn him of the ill effects such illegal acts might produce among the people, since he refrained from them ever after."

"James had too great confidence in his own powers, and too little sympathetic insight into the views of others, to make a successful ruler, and his inability to control those whom he trusted with blind confidence made his court a centre of corruption. He was, however, far-sighted in his ideas, setting himself against extreme parties, and eager to reconcile rather than divide. In Scotland he, on the whole, succeeded, because the work of reconciliation was in accordance with the tendencies of the age. In England he failed, because his Scottish birth and experience made him stand too much aloof from English parties, and left him incapable of understanding the national feeling with regard to Spain; while his feeble efforts to reconcile the continental powers, at a time when the spirit of division was in the ascendant, exposed him to the contemptuous scorn of his own subjects."

"A controversy of land between parties was heard by the King, and sentence given, which was repealed for this, that it did belong to the common law: then the King said, that he thought the law was founded upon reason, and that he and others had reason, as well as the Judges: to which it was answered by me, that true it was, that God had endowed his Majesty with excellent science, and great endowments of nature; but His Majesty was not learned in the laws of his realm of England, and causes which concern the life, or inheritance, or goods, or fortunes of his subjects, are not to be decided by natural reason but by the artificial reason and judgment of law, which law is an act which requires long study and experience, before that a man can attain to the cognizance of it: and that the law was the golden met-wand and measure to try the causes of the subjects; and which protected his Majesty in safety and peace: with which the King was greatly offended, and said, that then he should be under the law, which was treason to affirm, as he said; to which I said, that Bracton saith, quod Rex non debet esse sub homine, sed sub Deo et lege [that the King should not be under man, but under God and the law]."

"James's foreign policy perhaps met the needs of the age for peace, but often clashed with its temper. When he came to the throne England was still technically at war with Spain. With Cecil's support hostilities were concluded and diplomatic relations renewed. In all the circumstances this may be deemed to have been a wise and prudent step. The main struggle had already shifted from the high seas to Europe. The house of Hapsburg, at the head of the Holy Roman Empire, still dominated the Continent from Vienna. The territories of the Emperor and of his cousin the King of Spain now stretched from Portugal to Poland, and their power was backed by the proselytising fervour of the Jesuits. The Commons and the country remained vehemently hostile to Spain, and viewed with alarm and anxiety the march of the Counter-Reformation. But James was unmoved. He regarded the Dutch as rebels against the Divine Right of Kings. The Spanish Ambassador, Count Gondomar, financed a pro-Spanish party at the new Court; learning nothing from Tudor experience, James proposed not merely an alliance with Spain, but a Spanish match for his son."

"The new king's manner also contrasted sharply with that of his Tudor predecessors, sometimes to his disadvantage. Once again, some of his personal traits were far more damaging then than they would be today. For a king, he could be remarkably informal, even affable. He was not a stickler for ceremony and was good at putting people at ease. This was, in some ways, an advantage, for it meant that, early in the reign, at least, his court was welcoming to men and women of all political and religious persuasions. This openness meant that the king always had a pretty good idea of what various sides in a debate were thinking, while each might hope that their view would prevail. On the other hand, the Tudors' success had stemmed, in part, from their ability to keep people off balance and inspire loyalty, awe, and fear. The new king's personality and reputation worked against these feelings in several ways. For example, there were rumors of excessive drinking, made worse by a poor ability to tolerate its effects. More seriously, and unlike his Tudor predecessors, the new king hated crowds and rarely showed himself to his people outside London."

"Unfortunately for his image, both then and later, the new king did not look, sound or act, to contemporary eyes and ears, very much like a surrogate for the Supreme Being. It is not James' fault that he was a rather odd-looking man: skinny legs supported an ungainly body, crowned by a somewhat ponderous head. That head housed a tongue that was too large for its mouth, causing a pronounced lisp. The lisp exacerbated a stutter and what to English hearing was a thick Scots accent. In our politically correct age all of this might be overlooked or even celebrated in the name of diversity. But contemporaries used to the regal bearing of the Tudors and bound by their own prejudices could not help but draw unflattering conclusions. In particular, James' Scottish descent was difficult to stomach for English men and women who had long seen their northern neighbors as rude, impoverished brigands. Some charged that the king had swept down from his poor northern kingdom accompanied by "the hungry Scots": Scottish courtiers who saw England as a vast treasure house to plunder."

"James Stuart, the only son of Elizabeth's old nemesis, Mary Queen of Scots and Lord Darnley, long had a bad press among English historians. This was, in part, because he possessed an unconventional personality for a king, especially after the forthright authoritarianism of the Tudors. For example, unlike the last two Henries, he was not a military man: in fact, a military salute on the Isle of Wight once frightened him. Rather, he fancied himself a Rex Pacificus (peaceful king) who would bring peace and concord not only to the three kingdoms, but, as a moderator among his fellow monarchs, to all Europe. In this, he was ahead of his time. He was also a relatively tolerant man, preferring, like Elizabeth, to let Catholics and Puritans live in peace if they maintained their political loyalty to him. His failure to engage in military adventures against the Catholic powers or to enforce the penal laws against Catholics at home would be controversial with his subjects. In fact, his decision to end the war with Spain in 1604 was precisely what the English economy needed, while his flexibility over religion promoted sectarian peace for 20 years."

"Another incident that occurred whilst the king was in Newark does not speak so well for him. It was an act of despotism, if not of cruelty, and set an example of disregard for the law which no king should exhibit before his subjects. A pickpocket was detected attempting to rob one of the spectators at the royal pageant, and he was brought before his Majesty, who immediately ordered him to be hanged. It was urged that the man ought to have a fair and proper trial according to the laws of the country, but James was inexorable. The sentence was carried out, and the man lost his life without the opportunity of making a defence."