Grant me, indulgent Heaven, a rural seat,
Rather contemptible than great;
Where, though I taste life’s sweets, still I may be
Athirst for immortality.

I would have business, but exempt from strife;
A private, but an active, life;
A conscience bold, and punctual to his charge;
My stock of health, or patience, large.

Some books I’d have, and some acquaintance too,
But very good, and very few.
Then (if one mortal two such grants may crave)
From silent life I’d steal into my grave.

– Nahum Tate

Vocation

Is there some task in the universe that is mine in a morally valid way? Are there ethical concerns that have my name on them, so to speak? The idea that there is such a thing is a very important idea, and one that might be difficult to live without.

There are so many goods in the world that I could promote, and so many needs in the world that I could try to meet. There is a danger that I will be either fragmented, going in too many different ways; or crushed, seeing my obligations as unlimited; or immobilised by the clamour of competing claims. An idea of what is my task in the universe, and what things are my things to care for, may both impel and free me to devote my attention to those things.

- Robert Merrihew Adams, Finite and Infinite Goods

Heaven

“However the blessed may be related to one another in paradise, their primary orientation is towards God, on whom they actively gaze, seeing in the divine nature their own source and the perfection of every positive quality… In this the intellectual powers of the blessed are fully realised, but not in a purely speculative mode. Rather, in finding what they have always craved – absolute, unconditional, and everlasting love – their minds are themselves made loving, but now without prospect of relapse, for the wound from which their darkness and disturbance issued as a consequence of wilful disobedience has now been healed, and their lives transfigured.

The idea that this state might induce tedium is a product of too low an expectation of what the transformation of human life in Heaven might involve. God knows infinities by creating them; created minds know unending depths by exploring them. Even given eternity, that exploration will not be completed: as with the number series, however long one continues, and however far one reaches, there is still an infinity ahead. Those who find no attraction in the prospect of unlimited exploration of a reality that is at once significant (in the manner of a meaning-bestowing narrative), pleasing (after the fashion of an aesthetically engaging composition), and sustaining (as in a loving friendship) are, I suggest, gravely wanting in imagination.”

- John Haldane, An Intelligent Person’s Guide to Religion

“We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words — to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it. That is why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses and nymphs and elves — that, though we cannot, yet these projections can, enjoy in themselves that beauty, grace, and power of which Nature is the image. That is why the poets tell us such lovely falsehoods. They talk as if the west wind could really sweep into a human soul; but it can’t. They tell us that “beauty born of murmuring sound” will pass into human face; but it won’t. Or not yet.

For if we take the imagery of Scripture seriously, if we believe that God will one day give us the Morning Star and cause us to put on the splendour of the sun, then we may surmise that both the ancient myths and the modern poetry, so false as history, may be very near the truth as prophecy. At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in.”

- CS Lewis, The Weight of Glory

From “The Common Man”

“Do not enjoy yourself. Enjoy dances and theaters and joy-rides and champagne and oysters; enjoy jazz and cocktails and night-clubs if you can enjoy nothing better; enjoy bigamy and burglary and any crime in the calendar, in preference to the other alternative; but never learn to enjoy yourself.”

– GK Chesterton

From ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’

My Dear Lucy,

I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realised that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy takes again. You can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. I shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand, a word you say, but I shall still be

your affectionate Godfather,

C.S.Lewis

Stars in the dark

You do not have to sit outside in the dark.
If, however, you want to see the stars,
You will find that darkness is required.
The stars neither require it nor demand it.

- Annie Dillard

On writing well

For anyone puzzled about how to write well, here’s an interesting view by the philosopher and “recovering academician” William Vallicella. Roughly, his recommendation is “To write well, read well.”

On Writing Well: The Example of William James

For those who’re looking for good stuff to read on the internet, do try his posts. I find plenty of them to be worthy of reflection – perhaps you would concur. His aphorisms are often wise and delightful.

Most recently, he advised a reader on studying. A particular line seems especially relevant to yours truly: “Fruitful mornings are of course impossible if one’s evenings are spent dissipating.”

Not letting work dominate one’s life

After about two months of work, I’ve calculated that if my current lifestyle carries on till I retire, my personal development and social contribution over the next decades would be stunningly miniscule. Work seems to suck the energy out of me. But after having some time to collect myself, I realise way too much time has slipped through in the transition between work and non-work. This wonderful revelation will utterly transform my life and pave the way for my winning the Nobel Prize.

Belated Teacher’s Day tribute

May it be that all of us have – or will have – someone to think of with gratitude whenever Teacher’s Day rolls by. Here’s the philosopher Steven Cahn’s tribute to the late Richard Taylor:

“For the next two years I devoted myself to justifying his confidence. I attended every class he taught and wrote paper after paper. I signed up for conferences several times a week and often waited near his office to take advantage of free time created by the cancellation of a scheduled appointment. He never begrudged me a moment but continued urging me to write more and come in to discuss what I had written. The hours we spent together became the focus of my life.

I no longer doubted my choice of career, and, through his patience and efforts, I became a philosopher… Richard Taylor died a few years ago, but whenever I meet with graduate students to offer them advice, i think of him. I remember with deep gratitude his invaluable guidance that enabled me to overcome my misgivings and find my way through the world of academia. He provided my inspiration, and I hope you find someone who does the same for you.

Steven Cahn, From Student to Scholar

I’ll be back very soon – out working!