Gratitude

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Hence it is said: Not by the works of justice that we have done, but according to his own mercy he hath saved us (Tit. iii, 5): It is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy (Rom. ix, 16): because man needs must be forestalled by the divine assistance for purposes both of willing well and doing well. As the victory is attributed to the general, which is won by the labour of the soldiers, so such expressions as the above are not to be taken as exclusive of the free choice of the will, according to the misconstruction which some have put upon them, as though man were not master of his own acts, interior and exterior, but they show that man is under God. Again it is said: Turn us, O Lord, to thee, and we shall be turned (Lament. v, 21): which shows that our turning, or conversion, is anticipated by the aid of God converting us. Still we read, as spoken in the person of God: Turn ye to me, and I will turn to you (Zach. i, 3); not that the work of God in us does not go before our conversion; but the meaning is that the conversion, whereby we turn to God, is aided also by His subsequent aid, strengthening it to arrive to effect, and securing it that it may reach its due term. Hereby is excluded the error of the Pelagians, who said that the divine assistance is given us in consideration of our deservings; and that, while the beginning of our justification is of ourselves, the consummation of it is of God. CHAPTER CLI THAT THE AFORESAID ASSISTANCE IS CALLED GRACE,’ AND WHAT IS THE MEANING OF GRACE CONSTITUTING A STATE OF GRACE’BECAUSE what is given to another without any previous deserts of his is said to be given gratis, and because the divine aid given to man anticipates all human deserving, it follows that this aid is given to man gratis, and therefore is aptly called by the name of grace.’ Hence the Apostle says: If by grace, it is not now of works, otherwise grace is no more grace (Rom. xi, 6).

• From The Decameron (1353)

  The mother, being needy, was pleased with the offer; algates, having the spirit of a gentlewoman, she said, 'Madam, tell me what I can do for you; if it consist with my honour, I will willingly do it, and you shall after do that which shall please you.' Then said the countess, 'It behoveth me that you let tell the count my husband by some one in whom you trust, that your daughter is ready to do his every pleasure, so she may but be certified that he loveth her as he pretendeth, the which she will never believe, except he send her the ring which he carrieth on his finger and by which she hath heard he setteth such store. An he send you the ring, you must give it to me and after send to him to say that your daughter is ready do his pleasure; then bring him hither in secret and privily put me to bed to him in the stead of your daughter. It may be God will vouchsafe me to conceive and on this wise, having his ring on my finger and a child in mine arms of him begotten, I shall presently regain him and abide with him, as a wife should abide with her husband, and you will have been the cause thereof.' This seemed a grave matter to the gentlewoman, who feared lest blame should haply ensue thereof to her daughter; nevertheless, bethinking her it were honourably done to help the poor lady recover her husband and that she went about to do this to a worthy end and trusting in the good and honest intention of the countess, she not only promised her to do it, but, before many days, dealing with prudence and secrecy, in accordance with the latter's instructions, she both got the ring (albeit this seemed somewhat grievous to the count) and adroitly put her to bed with her husband, in the place of her own daughter. In these first embracements, most ardently sought of the count, the lady, by God's pleasure, became with child of two sons, as her delivery in due time made manifest. Nor once only, but many times, did the gentlewoman gratify the countess with her husband's embraces, contriving so secretly that never was a word known of the matter, whilst the count still believed himself to have been, not with his wife, but with her whom he loved; and whenas he came to take leave of a morning, he gave her, at one time and another, divers goodly and precious jewels, which the countess laid up with all diligence.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  In the payment of these bodily observances the cult, or worship, of God is said to consist. For we are said to cultivate those objects to which we pay attention by our works. Now we busy ourselves in paying attention to the things of God, not as though we were of service to Him, as is the case when we are said to tend, or cultivate, other things by our attentions, but because such actions are of service to ourselves, enabling us to come nearer to God. And because by inward acts we go straight to God, therefore it is by inward acts properly that we worship God: nevertheless outward acts also belong to the cult, or worship, of God, inasmuch as by such acts our mind is raised to God, as has been said. Hence the worship of God is also called religion, because by such acts a man in some sort binds (ligat) himself, that his thought may not wander astray from God; and also because by a sort of natural instinct he feels himself bound (obligatum) to God, that in such manner as he can he should pay reverence to Him from whom is the origin of his being and of all his good. Hence also religion has received the name of piety, for piety is that whereby we pay due honour to parents: hence aptly the honour paid to God, parent of all, is taken to be a part of piety, and they who oppose the worship of God are called impious. But because not only is God cause and origin of our being, but our whole being is in His power, and all that is in us is His due, and thereby He is truly our Lord and Master, therefore what we perform in honour of God is called service. Now God is our master not by accident, as one man is another’s master, but by nature; and therefore the service that we owe to God is quite different from that whereby we are accidentally subject to a man, the dominion of man over man being partial, and derivative from God. Hence the service specially due to God is called among the Greeks latria. CHAPTER CXX

• From Cults Inside Out: How People Get In and Can Get Out (2014)

  Thanks so much, Flo and Jim, for always being there. Psychologist Paul Martin, his wife, Barbara Martin, and the staff at Wellspring Retreat, a licensed mental health facility devoted to assisting cult victims, helped me to better understand the shared problems of former cult members and their recovery process. I could never have survived professionally without the pro bono help numerous lawyers and law firms provided over the years. They protected not only me personally but also the online archives of the Cult Education Institute. In Arizona, law firms like Lewis and Roca and Brown and Bain of Phoenix helped me through litigation when I lived in Phoenix. I want to specifically thank Arizona attorneys William Wolf, Bret Maidman, Paul Eckstein, and Daniel Barr for their successful work. Since my move to New Jersey, the law firm Lowenstein Sandler has generously provided me with much needed legal help. Peter Skolnik, a partner at Lowenstein Sandler, diligently persevered through two harassment lawsuits—first, defending me in a lawsuit filed by Landmark Education and later defending me against a particularly vexatious litigant NXIVM in a lawsuit that dragged on for more than a decade. I also want to thank attorneys Robert Rivas of Florida, Douglas Brooks of Massachusetts, Michael Norwick and Thomas Dolan of New Jersey, and Thomas Gleason of New York for their tireless work and dedication to protecting the principle of free speech. The organizations Public Citizen and the Berkman Center for Internet and Society at Harvard University were also quite helpful regarding ongoing litigation concerns. I want to thank Drs. Guy S. Alitto, Paul Morris, and Udo Schuklenk for their feedback and comments at an international symposium on cultic studies in Thailand during 2011. One night after a day of presentations, I had a friendly and private debate with Drs. Morris and Shuklenk about the core definition of a destructive cult. That discussion became much of the impetus for forming an understanding of the nucleus for a definition of a destructive cult in this book. I want to thank Dr. Monica Pignotti and journalist Tony Ortega for reviewing chapters about Scientology and offering their invaluable feedback. Most of all, I am deeply grateful to Dr. Cathleen Mann, who contributed substantially to the process of writing this book through her ongoing critique of chapters. Dr. Mann was extremely generous and pushed me to write a better book through her always-constructive criticism. Thanks, Cathleen, for being so patient and precise. Your commitment and consistent ethical professionalism exemplify how anyone seriously addressing the issue of destructive cuts and helping cult victims should behave and conduct his or her work. BIBLIOGRAPHY Aaronovitch, David. Voodoo Histories: The Role of the Conspiracy Theory in Shaping Modern History . New York: Riverhead Books, 2010. Abrahams, Kyria. I’m Perfect, You’re Doomed: Tales from a Jehovah’s Witness . New York: Touchstone, 2009. Acocella, Joan Ross. Creating Hysteria: Women and Multiple Personality Disorder . San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass, 1999. Albarus, Carmeta, and Jonathan Mack.

• From Under the Banner of Heaven (2003)

  When the Lafferty brothers went to bed in their Wendover motel room late on the night of July 24, they both fell into a deep sleep. They awoke the following morning to discover that Knapp and Carnes had vanished with the Impala and everything inside it, leaving them flat broke, with little more than the clothes they were wearing. Instead of being angry, Dan says, “I thought that maybe it was a good thing in some ways. I certainly didn’t blame them, all considered, and I was inclined to think it was meant to be because Ron and I had slept so soundly.” After pondering their options, Ron suggested they split up, hitchhike across Nevada, and rendezvous in the Reno area at John Ascuaga’s Nugget, a casino in Sparks they’d visited during their road trip earlier that summer. Dan stuck out his thumb beside the westbound on-ramp to Interstate 80 and was immediately picked up by a trucker in an eighteen-wheeler, who gave him a ride all the way to Reno. He spent that night huddled in a historic steam locomotive on display in a city park, then passed the following day skulking around the Nugget until Ron showed up. After they found each other, Ron and Dan were standing outside the entrance to the casino, Dan says, “when this big guy named Bud staggered out and kind of puked a little by the curb, and when he did his wallet fell to the ground. . . . It was about the fattest wallet I’ve ever seen.” Instead of keeping it, Dan handed the wallet back to Bud, who in gratitude let the brothers sleep on his floor that night, then invited them to go water-skiing with him the next morning. They spent the day relaxing above the crystalline depths of Lake Tahoe, drinking beer and eating Bud’s sandwiches. He bought them a big dinner in Truckee that evening, then drove them back to downtown Reno. For the next two weeks Ron and Dan hung around Sparks and Reno, riding back and forth on the free double-decker shuttle bus, subsisting on the promotional largesse of the gambling industry. They became acquainted with the driver of the shuttle, and he allowed the brothers to sleep in his bus each night, “which was a real blessing,” Dan says. After his final run in the evening, the

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  [62] It is proper that a king look to God for his reward, for a servant looks to his master for the reward of his service. The king is indeed the minister of God in governing the people, as the Apostle says: “All power is from the Lord God” (Rom 13:1) and God’s minister is “an avenger to execute wrath upon him who does evil” (Rom 13:4). And in the Book of Wisdom (6:5), kings are described as being ministers of God. Consequently, kings ought to look to God for the reward of their ruling. Now God sometimes rewards kings for their service by temporal goods, but such rewards are common to both the good and the wicked. Wherefore the Lord says to Ezechiel (29:18): “Nabuchodonosor, king of Babylon, has made his army to undergo hard service against Tyre, and there has been no reward given him nor his army for Tyre, for the service he rendered Me against it,” for that service namely, by which, according to the Apostle, power is “the minister of God and the avenger to execute wrath upon him who does evil.” Afterwards He adds, regarding the reward: “Therefore, thus says the Lord God, ‘I will set Nabuchodonosor the king of Babylon in the land of Egypt, and he shall rifle the spoils thereof, and it shall be wages for his army.’” Therefore, if God recompenses wicked kings who fight against the enemies of God, though not with the intention of serving Him but to execute their own hatred and cupidity, by giving them such great rewards as to yield them victory over their foes, subject kingdoms to their sway and grant them spoils to rifle, what will He do for kings who rule the people of God and assail His enemies from a holy motive? He promises them not an earthly reward indeed but an everlasting one and in none other than in Himself. As Peter says to the shepherds of the people (1 Pet 5:2,4): “Feed the flock of God that is among you and when the prince of pastors shall appear (i.e. the King of kings, Christ) you shall receive a never-fading crown of glory,” concerning which Isaiah says (28:5): “The Lord shall be a crown of glory and a garland of joy to His people.”

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Reply to the Fifth Objection. The six days wherein God is said to have created the heaven, the earth, the sea and an that are in them, do not signify a succession of time, but the angelic knowledge as referred to six classes of things created by God, while the seventh day is the angel’s knowledge as referred to the rest of the Maker. For in Augustine’s opinion (Gen. ad lit. iv, 15) God is said to have rested on the seventh day inasmuch as he revealed to the angelic mind the rest whereby he rested in himself from the things created, whereby he is happy in himself and needs not creatures, being all-sufficient to himself: and this knowledge Augustine calls day.—God is said to have rested from work on the seventh day, because afterwards he did nothing new that in some way did not already exist either materially or causally or in respect of some specific or generic likeness in the works of the six days.—And whereas after the completion of all his works God rested in himself on the seventh day, Scripture and the Law commanded the seventh day to be kept holy. For then especially is a thing holy when it rests in God; thus things dedicated to God (e.g. the tabernacle, the vessels, the ministers) are called holy things. Now the seventh day was dedicated to the worship of God and for this reason it is said to be kept holy. Accordingly as God after producing six classes of creatures and making them known to the angelic mind, rested not indeed in the things he had created as though they were his end, but in himself and from the things he had created: inasmuch as he himself is his own beatitude (since he is not made happy by making things, but through being all-sufficient to himself and heeding not the things he made),—even so are we to learn to rest not in God’s works nor in ours, but from work and in God in whom our happiness consists. In fact for this very reason was man commanded’ to labour in his own works for six days, and to rest on the seventh applying himself to the worship of God and resting in the meditation of divine things, wherein his sanctification chiefly consists. Again the newness of the world proves in a striking manner the existence of God and that he needs not creatures: wherefore man was commanded in the Law to rest and hold festival on the seventh day which saw the completion of the world, in order that the novelty of the world produced all at once and the six different classes of things might keep man in continual remembrance of God, and lead him to give thanks to him for the great and fruitful boon of the creation, so as to rest his thoughts in him as his end, in this life by grace, in the future life by glory.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  2. That which is directed to the attainment of an end is no longer needed where the end has been reached: thus a ship is necessary that we may cross the sea, but we no longer need it after crossing the ocean. Now corporeal creatures were made for the sake of the spiritual creature, in order to help it to reach its end. When therefore the spiritual creatures arrive at their ultimate end they no longer need corporeal creatures: and since there is nothing superfluous in God’s works it would seem that at the last end of all things every corporeal creature will cease to exist. 3. Nothing accidental is infinite. Now existence is accidental to the creature according to Avicenna (Metaph. viii, 4); wherefore Hilary (De Trin. vii) distinguishes God from his creatures by stating that there is no accident in God. Therefore no creature will last for ever, and all creatures will at some time be reduced to nothing. 4. The end should correspond to the beginning. Now creatures had their beginning after nothing had existed but God. Therefore creatures will return to an end wherein there will be absolutely nothing in existence. 5. That which has no power to exist always, cannot endure for ever. And that which has not always been has no power to exist always. Therefore that which was not always cannot endure for ever. But creatures were not always. Therefore they cannot last for ever, and thus they will at length be annihilated. 6. Justice requires, if a man is ungrateful for a benefit bestowed or acquired, that he should be deprived of it. Now by committing mortal sin man proved himself ungrateful. Therefore justice demands that he be deprived of all the benefits he has received from God, among which is his very existence: also God’s judgement on sinners will be just according to the Apostle (Rom. ii, 2). Therefore they win be annihilated. 7. The words of Jeremias are to the point (x, 24): Correct me O Lord, and yet with judgement and not in thy fury, lest thou bring me to nothing. 8. It will be said perhaps that God’s punishments are even less severe than what is deserved, on account of his mercy which in his judgements is always mingled with justice: so that God does not exclude sinners entirely from a share in his benefits.—On the contrary, mercy is not shown to man by granting him what it were better for him not to have: and it were better for the damned not to be at all than to be thus, as evidenced by the words about Judas (Matt. xxvi, 24): It were better for him had that man not been born, Therefore it is no part of God’s mercy that the damned be kept in existence.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  2. Next there is our great need. So heavy was the debt of our first parents, from the greatness of the theft, from the ingratitude of the stealer, from the majesty of their outraged Maker, that not only the sacrifices of the law, but even the whole world with every creature could not make satisfaction. 3. Then there is the weakness of the sacrifices of the law. This is shown by three things: a, they could not please God; b, they could not take away sin; c, they could not give grace. C. There is the food of man: and this is the medicinal Food against the corruptions of the death-bringing apple. Now this corruption, brought by Adam and Eve on the human race, was so deep-seated that it would have been incurable but for that wondrous medicine which only the wisdom of God could make. St. Ambrose says, ‘The Body of Christ is that spiritual medicine which, tasted with reverence, purifies those that are devoted to it.’ 1. To understand the need of this medicine, bear in mind that the serpent, by the poison of the forbidden fruit, brought on man a threefold corruption: a, the darkness of ignorance in his soul; b, the disease of evil desires in his body; c, death for both. But the medicine of the Body of Christ: a, lightens our darkness; b, heals the evils of desire; c, destroys death in us. 2. Hence it may be likened to three kinds of food, sweet and medicinal: a, to honey; b, to a fig; c, to the fruit of the tree of life. Honey signifies the sweet Body of Jesus; the figs twice mentioned also signify the sweet Body of Him who is God and man. With a lump of figs the prophet Isaias healed King Ezechias of a boil, which represents carnal desire. The lump of figs is the Body of our Lord, having in it the sweetness of many goods as a remedy for all bad desires. This Body, the fruit of the tree of life, is powerful to save us from hell and bring us to Heaven. St. Hilary says, ‘When we have eaten the Flesh of the Lord and drunk His Blood, then we are in Him and He in us. Christ dwelling by His Flesh in our bodies is the cause of our life, for He truly is life. We shall live by Him, as He lives by the Father, who is in Him.’ The Voice of the Holy Ghost About the Blessed Sacrament; Come eat of My bread, and drink of the wine that I have mingled for you. Prov. 9:5. a. Treat thy cause with a friend, and discover not the secret to a stranger. Prov. 25:9. b. Three evils; 1. Forgetfulness of God; The beginning of the pride of man is to fall off from God; because his heart is departed from Him. Ecclus. 10:14.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  a. Goodness of heart; Grace to you and peace be increased in the knowledge of God, and of Christ Jesus our Lord; according as His divine power hath given us all things that pertain to life and godliness through the knowledge of Him who hath called us by His own proper glory and virtue; by whom He has given us most great and precious promises, that by these you may be made partakers of the Divine Nature. 2 St. Pet. 1:2–4. The oath that He sware to Abraham our Father, that He would grant to us: that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies, may serve Him without fear, in holiness and justice before Him all our days. St. Luke 1:73–75. b. Works; Thus saith the Lord God, I myself will take of the marrow of the high cedar, and will set it. Ezech. 17:22. N. Both; I live: now not I, but Christ liveth in me. Gal. 2:20. c. Our inheritance; The Spirit Himself giveth testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God; and if sons, heirs also; heirs indeed of God, and joint heirs with Christ. Rom. 8:16, 17. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, according to His great mercy, hath regenerated us to a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, unto an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that cannot fade, reserved in Heaven for you. 1 St. Pet. 1:3, 4. Prayer O Holy Ghost, give me a great hunger for the Bread of Life. Do Thou, by that Bread which is Jesus, satisfy my soul, and strengthen it, and make it full of life. I am needy with a great need: but this Bread of Heaven is the life of the poor; let it be my life. I am very poor and needy; but Thou, my own Lord, dost always care for me. Without Thee, Blessed Spirit, I cannot say, Jesus: without Thee, Helper of the needy, I cannot feed on Him who is the Bread from Heaven. O Spirit of peace, give me a great love for the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. O Spirit of reconciliation, help all darkened souls, and bring them back to life. O Spirit of mercy, help the souls that are now suffering in the fire of Purgatory. I ask Thee, by Thine own goodness, to give them refreshment and joy and white robes of consoling love. O most pitiful Spirit, give me a great joy in this Sacrament of Love. Thou dwellest in me, and by Thee I live to God. Thou makest me a temple of Thyself and of the Father and the Son. Thou makest me an heir of God. Bring me now, dear Spirit, in light to the Altar; bring me in light to my grave; bring me in light to the city of the King and the song of the morning stars. Thanksgiving

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Thanksgiving O Holy Ghost, Lord of life, Giver of life, Love of the Father and the Son, Thou ever spreadest a table for me in the desert. Thou ever leadest me to Him who is the Master of the house in which the heavenly banquet is always spread. Thou dost lead me to the abundance of wheat; and He is the Lord of the harvest. Thou dost lead me to the abundance of wine; and He is the Gleaner of the vintage. Thy light is ever falling on the vineyards of the Blood of Jesus, and on the cornfields of His Heart. In the white glory of His Godhead and in the ruddiness of His Passion He comes to me in the Sacred Host. Then I feed on Him, the Bread of God. Then I drink His Blood, the Blood of the Victim of eternity, the Lamb for ever slain. I call to mind, O Spirit of truth, the words that Thou hast spoken about Him. I feel the preciousness of those words and the greatness of their comfort. Now indeed I have a Tabernacle for a shadow in the daytime from the heat, and for a place of refuge and a covert from the whirlwind and rain. Now a Man is to me a hiding-place from the storm and a covert from the tempest. The Man Christ Jesus is to me rivers of water in a dry place, and the shadow of a great rock in a desert land. I eat the Bread of Life with thankfulness of heart; and I drink of the brook in the way and lift up my head. For this I bless Thee and praise Thee, as I bless and praise Jesus and His Father. I thank Thee, Eternal Spirit, whose servant I am, for all Thy gifts, and I implore Thee, O Spirit of kindness, to fill me with the spirit of thankfulness and adoration and praise. It seems to me sometimes in the shadow of the Tabernacle as if even here in Kedar there were no more death nor sorrow nor crying nor any more pain: as if even here, amid all weakness and darkness, Thy strength and light were revealed and seen; and as if even in this old world of sin all things were made new. For here the Lamb in the midst of the throne feeds me. Here my loving Jesus, signed with wounds and wearing His many crowns, leads me to the fountains of living water. Here God with His own Fatherly hands wipes away tears from my eyes. O Blessed Spirit, O gracious Comforter, O Paraclete of God, give me day by day a deeper spirit of adoration, and a brighter spirit of love when I receive Jesus at the Altar. By Thee I will ever fly to His Wounds. By Thee I will be ever bathed in His Blood. By Thee I will be ever hidden in His Heart. O Heart of Jesus; O Pearl of great price. O Spirit of the Father and the Son, fill my heart with gladness for all that I have. By Thee I will sing joyfully to God all the days of my life. By Thee I will serve Him with gladness. By Thee I will always come into the presence of Jesus in the Tabernacle, and rejoice before Him with exceedingly great joy. By Thee I will go through the doors of His house with praise; and enter His courts with a hymn of melody in my heart. By Thee I will give glory to Him in the Tabernacle, and praise His name as He dwells on the Altar. His truth is the changeless word of God: and He, the Lord of all, is very sweet, and His mercy endureth for ever, yea, for ever and ever.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  9. We know that there are some who, in their overestimate of the human faculties, maintain that as soon as man’s intellect becomes subject to divine authority it falls from its native dignity, and hampered by the yoke of this species of slavery, is much retarded and hindered in its progress toward the supreme truth and excellence. Such an idea is most false and deceptive, and its sole tendency is to induce foolish and ungrateful men wilfully to repudiate the most sublime truths, and reject the divine gift of faith, from which the fountains of all good things flow out upon civil society. For the human mind, being confined within certain limits, and those narrow enough, is exposed to many errors and is ignorant of many things; whereas the Christian faith, reposing on the authority of God, is the unfailing mistress of truth, whom whoso followeth he will be neither enmeshed in the snares of error nor tossed hither and thither on the waves of fluctuating opinion. Those, therefore, who to the study of philosophy unite obedience to the Christian faith, are philosophizing in the best possible way; for the splendor of the divine truths, received into the mind, helps the understanding, and not only detracts in nowise from its dignity, but adds greatly to its nobility, keenness, and stability. For surely that is a worthy and most useful exercise of reason when men give their minds to disproving those things which are repugnant to faith and proving the things which conform to faith. In the first case they cut the ground from under the feet of error and expose the viciousness of the arguments on which error rests; while in the second case they make themselves masters of weighty reasons for the sound demonstration of truth and the satisfactory instruction of any reasonable person. Whoever denies that such study and practice tend to add to the resources and expand the faculties of the mind must necessarily and absurdly hold that the mind gains nothing from discriminating between the true and the false. Justly, therefore, does the Vatican Council commemorate in these words the great benefits which faith has conferred upon reason: Faith frees and saves reason from error, and endows it with manifold knowledge. A wise man, therefore, would not accuse faith and look upon it as opposed to reason and natural truths, but would rather offer heartfelt thanks to God, and sincerely rejoice that, in the density of ignorance and in the flood-tide of error, holy faith, like a friendly star, shines down upon his path and points out to him the fair gate of truth beyond all danger of wandering.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  The maid, having greatly commended her mistress for this her humanity, went and opening to Rinaldo, brought him in; whereupon the lady, seeing him well nigh palsied with cold, said to him, 'Quick, good man, enter this bath, which is yet warm.' Rinaldo, without awaiting farther invitation, gladly obeyed and was so recomforted with the warmth of the bath that himseemed he was come back from death to life. The lady let fetch him a suit of clothes that had pertained to her husband, then lately dead, which when he had donned, they seemed made to his measure, and whilst awaiting what she should command him, he fell to thanking God and St. Julian for that they had delivered him from the scurvy night he had in prospect and had, as he deemed, brought him to good harbourage.

• From The Story of My Experiments with Truth (An Autobiography) (1927)

  As you see, hundreds of people come to see me. What am I to do? Am I to meet them, or am I to answer these busybodies inundating me with letters? I have no clerks to whom I can entrust this work. Most of these letters have nothing in them, but you will please look them through. Acknowledge those that are worth it, and refer to me those that need a considered reply.’ I was delighted at the confidence reposed in me. Sjt. Ghosal did not know me when he gave me the work. Only later did he enquire about my credentials. I found my work very easy – the disposal of that heap of correspondence. I had done with it in no time, and Sjt. Ghosal was very glad. He was talkative. He would talk away for hours together. When he learnt something from me about my history, he felt rather sorry to have given me clerical work. But I reassured him: ‘Please don’t worry. What am I before you? You have grown gray in the service of the Congress, and are as an elder to me. I am but an inexperienced youth. You have put me under a debt of obligation by entrusting me with this work. For I want to do Congress work, and you have given me the rare opportunity of understanding the details.’ ‘To tell you the truth,’ said Sjt. Ghosal, ‘that is the proper spirit. But young men of today do not realize it. Of course I have known the Congress since its birth. In fact I may claim a certain share with Mr. Hume in bringing the Congress into being.’ And thus we became good friends. He insisted on my having lunch with him. Sjt. Ghosal used to get his shirt buttoned by his bearer. I volunteered to do the bearer’s duty, and I loved to do it, as my regard for elders was always great. When he came to know this, he did not mind my doing little acts of personal service for him. In fact he was delighted. Asking me to button his shirt, he would say, ‘You see, now, the Congress secretary has no time even to button his shirt. He has always some work to do.’ Sjt. Ghosal’s naivete amused me, but did not create any dislike in me for service of that nature. The benefit I received from this service in incalculable. In a few days I came to know the working of the Congress. I met most of the leaders. I observed the movements of stalwarts like Gokhale and Surendranath. I also noticed the huge waste of time there. I observed too, with sorrow even then, the prominent place that the English language occupied in our affairs. There was little regard for economy of energy. More than one did the work of one, and many an important thing was no one’s business at all.

• From Wild (2012)

  It was still raining and wretched outside, so I walked to the little store, where I bought a cup of coffee from the old man who worked the cash register on the promise I’d pay for it once I opened my box. I sat drinking it in a chair by the woodstove and read my letters. The first was from Aimee, the second from Paul, the third—much to my surprise—from Ed, the trail angel I’d met way back in Kennedy Meadows. If you get this, it means you’ve made it, Cheryl. Congrats! he wrote. I was so touched to read his words that I laughed out loud, and the old man by the cash register looked up. “Good news from home?” he asked. “Yeah,” I said. “Something like that.” I opened my box and found not only the envelope that held my twenty dollars, but another envelope that held another twenty dollars—the one that was meant to have been in my box at the Shelter Cove Resort, which I must have mispacked months before. It was all the same now. I’d made it through with my two pennies, and my reward was that I was now rich with forty dollars and two cents. I paid for my coffee, bought a packaged cookie, and asked the man if there were any showers, but he only shook his head as I looked at him, crestfallen. It was a resort without showers or a restaurant, there was a driving, drizzling rain, and it was something like 55 degrees out. I refilled my coffee cup and thought about whether I should hike on that day or not. There wasn’t much reason to stay, and yet going back out to walk in the woods with all my wet things was not only dispiriting but possibly dangerous—the inescapable wet chill put me at risk of hypothermia. At least here I could sit in the warmth of the store. I’d been alternately sweating hot or freezing cold for going on three days. I was tired, both physically and psychologically. I’d hiked a few half days, but I hadn’t had a full day off since Crater Lake. Plus, much as I looked forward to reaching the Bridge of the Gods, I wasn’t in any hurry. I was close enough now that I knew I’d easily make it by my birthday. I could take my time. “We don’t have showers, young lady,” said the old man, “but I can give you dinner tonight, if you’d like to join me and a couple of the staff at five.” “Dinner?” My decision to stay was made.

• From The Story of My Experiments with Truth (An Autobiography) (1927)

  I had asked them both not to trouble to come, but they insisted. “I should not have come if you had gone first class, but now I had to,’ said Gokhale. No one stopped Gokhale from going on to the platform. He was in his silk turban, jacket and #dhoti#. Dr. Ray was in his Bengali dress. He was stopped by the ticket collector, but on Gokhale telling him that he was his friend, he was admitted. Thus with their good wishes I started on my journey. Regarding the use of the word 'volatile', see note 'In Justice to Her Memory', Young India, 30th June, 1927. ↵ Monks ↵ A place in Porbandar State noted locally for its coarse woollen fabrics. ↵ 76IN BENARESThe journey was from Calcutta to Rajkot, and I planned to halt at Benares, Agra, Jaipur and Palanpur en route. I had not the time to see any more places than these. In each city I stayed one day and put up in dharmashalas or with pandas[1] like the ordinary pilgrims, excepting at Palanpur. So far as I can remember, I did not spend more than Rs. 31 (including the train fare) on this journey. In travelling third class I mostly preferred the ordinary to the mail trains, as I knew that the latter were more crowded and the fares in them higher. The third class compartments are practically as dirty, and the closet arrangements as bad, today as they were then, There may be a little improvement now, but the difference between the facilities provided for the first and the third classes is out of all proportion to the difference between the fares for the two classes. Third class passengers are treated like sheep and their comforts are sheep’s comforts. In Europe I travelled third and only once first, just to see what it was like but there I noticed no such difference between the first and the third classes. In South Africa class comforts are better there than here. In parts of South Africa third class compartments are provided with sleeping accommodation and cushioned seats. The accommodation is also regulated, so as to prevent overcrowding, whereas here I have found the regulation limit usually exceeded. The indifference of the railway authorities to the comforts of the third class passengers, combined with the dirty and inconsiderate habits of the passengers themselves, makes third class travelling a trial for a passenger of cleanly ways. These unpleasant habits commonly include throwing of rubbish on the floor of the compartment, smoking at all hours and in all places, betel and tobacco chewing, converting of the whole carriage into a spittoon, shouting and yelling, and using foul language, regardless of the convenience or comfort of fellow passengers. I have noticed little difference between my experience of the third class travelling in 1902 and that of my unbroken third class tours from 1915 to 1919.

• From The Story of My Experiments with Truth (An Autobiography) (1927)

  I know that neither this faith nor this scepticism is based upon any solid grounds, but I still retain the impression which I then received, and have therefore thought it necessary to mention it here. On the outbreak of the plague, I had addressed a strong letter to the press, holding the Municipality guilty of negligence after the location came into its possession and responsible for the outbreak of the plague itself. This letter secured me Mr. Henry Polak, and was partly responsible for the friendship of the late Rev. Joseph Doke. I have said in an earlier chapter that I used to have my meals at a vegetarian restaurant. Here I met Mr. Albert West. We used to meet in this restaurant every evening and go out walking after dinner. Mr. West was a partner in a small printing concern. He read my letter in the press about the outbreak of the plague and, not finding me in the restaurant, felt uneasy. My co-workers and I had reduced our diet since the outbreak, as I had long made it a rule to go on a light diet during epidemics. In these days I had therefore given up my evening dinner. Lunch also I would finish before the other guests arrived. I knew the proprietor of the restaurant very well, and I had informed him that, as I was engaged in nursing the plague patients, I wanted to avoid the contact of friends as much as possible. Not finding me in the restaurant for a day or two, Mr. West knocked at my door early one morning just as I was getting ready to go out for a walk. As I opened the door Mr. West said: ‘I did not find you in the restaurant and was really afraid lest something should have happened to you. So I decided to come and see you in the morning in order to make sure of finding you at home. Well, here I am at your disposal. I am ready to help in nursing the patients. You know that I have no one depending on me.’ I expressed my gratitude, and without taking even a second to think, replied: ‘I will not have you as a nurse. If there are no more cases, we shall be free in a day or two. There is one thing however.’ ‘Yes, what is it?’ ‘Could you take charge of the Indian Opinion press at Durban? Mr. Madanjit is likely to be engaged here, and someone is needed at Durban. If you could go, I should feel quite relieved on that score.’ ‘You know that I have a press. Most probably I shall be able to go, but may I give my final reply in the evening? We shall talk it over during our evening walk. I was delighted. We had the talk. He agreed to go.

• From The Story of My Experiments with Truth (An Autobiography) (1927)

  This was before the ventnor visit. I met there at a hotel an old widow of moderate means. This was my first year in England. The courses on the menu were all described in French, which I did not understand. I sat at the same table as the old lady. She saw that I was a stranger and puzzled, and immediately came to my aid. ‘You seem to be a stranger,’ she said, ‘and look perplexed. Why have you not ordered anything?’ I was spelling through the menu and preparing to ascertain the ingredients of the courses from the waiter, when the good lady thus intervened. I thanked her, and explaining my difficulty told her that I was at a loss to know which of the courses were vegetarian as I did not understand French. ‘Let me help you,’ she said. ‘I shall explain the card to you and show you what you may eat.’ I gratefully availed myself of her help. This was the beginning of an acquaintance that ripened into friendship and was kept up all through my stay in England and long after. She gave me her London address and invited me to dine at her house every Sunday. On special occasions also she would invite me, help me to conquer my bashfulness and introduce me to young ladies and draw me into conversation with them. Particularly marked out for these conversations was a young lady who stayed with her, and often we would be left entirely alone together. I found all this very trying at first. I could not start a conversation nor could I indulge in any jokes. But she put me in the way. I began to learn; and in course of time looked forward to every Sunday and came to like the conversations with the young friend. The old lady went on spreading her net wider every day. She felt interested in our meetings. Possibly she had her own plans about us. I was in a quandary. ‘How I wished I had told the good lady that I was married!’ I said to myself. ‘She would then have not thought of an engagement between us. It is, however, never too late to mend. If I declare the truth, I might yet be saved more misery.’ With these thoughts in my mind, I wrote a letter to her somewhat to this effect: ‘Ever since we met at Brighton you have been kind to me. You have taken care of me even as a mother of her son. You also think that I should get married and with that view you have been introducing me to young ladies. Rather than allow matters to go further, I must confess to you that I have been unworthy of your affection. I should have told you when I began my visits to you that I was married. I knew that Indian students in England dissembled the fact of their marriage and I followed suit.

• From Lady Chatterley's Lover (1928)

  The queer thing was, he didn't. He came back towards teatime with a large handful of violets and lilies, and the same hang-dog expression. Connie wondered sometimes if it were a sort of mask to disarm opposition, because it was almost too fixed. Was he really such a sad dog? His sad-dog sort of extinguished self persisted all the evening, though through it Clifford felt the inner effrontery. Connie didn't feel it, perhaps because it was not directed against women; only against men, and their presumptions and assumptions. That indestructible, inward effrontery in the meagre fellow was what made men so down on Michaelis. His very presence was an affront to a man of society, cloak it as he might in an assumed good manner. Connie was in love with him, but she managed to sit with her embroidery and let the men talk, and not give herself away. As for Michaelis, he was perfect; exactly the same melancholic, attentive, aloof young fellow of the previous evening, millions of degrees remote from his hosts, but laconically playing up to them to the required amount, and never coming forth to them for a moment. Connie felt he must have forgotten the morning. He had not forgotten. But he knew where he was ... in the same old place outside, where the born outsiders are. He didn't take the love-making altogether personally. He knew it would not change him from an ownerless dog, whom everybody begrudges its golden collar, into a comfortable society dog. The final fact being that at the very bottom of his soul he _was_ an outsider, and anti-social, and he accepted the fact inwardly, no matter how Bond-Streety he was on the outside. His isolation was a necessity to him; just as the appearance of conformity and mixing-in with the smart people was also a necessity. But occasional love, as a comfort and soothing, was also a good thing, and he was not ungrateful. On the contrary, he was burningly, poignantly grateful for a piece of natural, spontaneous kindness; almost to tears. Beneath his pale, immobile, disillusioned face, his child's soul was sobbing with gratitude to the woman, and burning to come to her again; just as his outcast soul was knowing he would keep really clear of her. He found an opportunity to say to her, as they were lighting the candles in the hall: "May I come?" "I'll come to you," she said. "Oh good!" He waited for her a long time ... but she came. He was the trembling excited sort of lover, whose crisis soon came, and was finished. There was something curiously childlike and defenceless about his naked body: as children are naked. His defences were all in his wits and cunning, his very instincts of cunning, and when these were in abeyance he seemed doubly naked and like a child, of unfinished, tender flesh, and somehow struggling helplessly.

• From The Story of My Experiments with Truth (An Autobiography) (1927)

  He took me to Johnson’s Family Hotel. He drew Mr. Johnson aside to speak to him, and the latter agreed to accommodate me for the night, on condition that I should have my dinner served in my room. ‘I assure you,’ said he, ‘that I have no colour prejudice. But I have only European custom, and, if I allowed you to eat in the dining-room, my guests might be offended and even go away.’ ‘Thank you,’ said I, ‘even for accommodating me for the night. I am now more or less acquainted with the conditions here, and I understand your difficulty. I do not mind your serving the dinner in my room. I hope to be able to make some other arrangement tomorrow.’ I was shown into a room, where I now sat waiting for the dinner and musing, as I was quite alone. There were not many guests in the hotel, and I had expected the waiter to come very shortly with the dinner. Instead Mr. Johnston appeared. He said: I was ashamed of having asked you to have your dinner here. So I spoke to the other guests about you, and asked them if they would mind your having your dinner in the dining-room. They said they had no objection, and that they did not mind your staying here as long as you liked. Please, therefore, come to the dining-room, if you will, and stay here as long as you wish.’ I thanked him again, went to the dining-room and had a hearty dinner. Next morning I called on the attorney, Mr. A. W. Baker. Abdulla Sheth had given me some description of him, so his cordial reception did not surprise me. He received me very warmly and made kind inquiries. I explained all about myself. Thereupon he said: ‘We have no work for you here as barrister, for we have engaged the best counsel. The case is a prolonged and complicated one, so I shall take your assistance only to the extent of getting necessary information. And of course you will make communication with my client easy for me, as I shall now ask for all the information I want from him through you. That is certainly an advantage, I have not yet found rooms for you. I thought I had better do so after having seen you. There is a fearful amount of colour prejudice here, and therefore it is not easy to find lodgings for such as you. But I know a poor woman. She is the wife of a baker. I think she will take you and thus add to her income at the same time. Come, let us go to her place.’ So he took me to her house. He spoke with her privately about me, and she agreed to accept me as a boarder at 35 shilling a week. Mr.