Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1906-02-09
FROM THE GOLDEN BOOKS.
Ruskln's Thoughts ION the Mystery Of
Human Life and it's Arts"

Human Life and It's Arts."
tFrom Sesame and LIlIes."l
what is your life? 1t IL even as a
vapor that appeareth for a little time,
and then vanisheth away"
suppose that few people reach the
middle OF latter period OF their age, with
out having. at some moment OF change
or disappointment, felt the truth Of those
bitter words; and been startled by the
fading Of the sunshine from the cloud Of
life, into the sudden agony Of the know
ledge that the fabric Of Il was as fragile
as dream, and the endurance Of Il as
transient as the dew. But IL Is not al
ways that, even at such times Of melan-
choly enterprise, we can enter into any
true perception that this human life
shares. in the nature Of Il, not only the
evanescence. but the mystery OF the
cloud; that its avenues are wreathed in
darkness, and its forms and courses no
less fantastic than spectral and obscure;
so that not only in the vanity which we
cannot grasp. but in the shadow which
we cannot pierce. it is true OF this cloudy
life Of ours, that man walketh in a vain
shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain"
And least Nof all. whatever may have
been the eageFness Of our passions, or the
hight Of our pride are We able to under
stand in Its depth the third and most
solemn character in which our life is like
those clouds OF heaven; that to IL belongs
not only their transience. not only their
mystery. but also their power; that in
the cloud Of the human soul there is q
fire stronger than the lightning. and a
grace more precious than the rain; and
that though Of the good and evil II shall
one day be said alike. that the place that
knew them knows them no more. there
Is an infinite separation between those
whose brief presence had there been a
blessing. like the mist of Eden that went
up from the earth to water the garden,
and those whose place knew them only
as drifting and changeful shade, of
whom the heavenly sentence Is. that they
are wells without water; clouds that are
carried with a tempest, to whom the mist
OF darkness is reserved forever"
Does 1t vanish then? Are you sure OF
that ?-sure. that the nothingness Of the
grave will be a rest from this trouble OF
nothingness; and that the coiling shadow,
which disquiets itself in vain, cannot
change into the smoke OF the torment
that ascends forever7 VIII any answer
that they are sure OF 1t. and that there
is no fear. nor hope. nor desire, nor labor.
whittier they go7 Be II so; will you not
then. make as sure OF the life that now
Is, as you are OF the Death that is TO
come? Your hearts are wholly I'm this
.
as well as perfectly? And see, first OF all.
that you have hearts. and sound hearts.
too. to give. Because you have no heaven
to look for. is that any reason that you
should remain ignorant OF this wonderful
and infinite earth. which is firmly and in
stantly given you in possession? Although
your days are numbered. and the follow
ing darkness sure. is it necessary that
you should share the degradation Of the
beast brute, because you are condemned
to it's mortality: OF live the life OF the
moth. and Of the worm. because you are
to companion them in the dust? Not so;
we may have but few thousands OF days
to spend. perhaps hundreds only-perhaps
tens: nay. the longest OF our time and
best. looked back on, will be but as a
moment. as the twinkling of an eye; still
we are men. not insects; we are living
spirits. not passing clouds. He that
maketh the winds his messengers; the
momentary fire. his Minister" and shall
we do less than these? Let us do the
work OF men while we bear the form Of
them; and, as we snatch our narrow por-
ton Of time out OF Eternity, snatch also
our narrow inheritance OF passion out Of
Immortality-even though our lives be as
vapor. that appeareth for a little time,
and then vanisheth away.
But there are some OF you who believe
not this-who think this cloud OF life has
no such close-that IL is to float, revealed
and illumined. upon the floor Of heaven,
in the day when he cometh with clouds
and every eye shall see him. Is there but
one day Of judgment? Why for us every
day is a day of judgment-every day is
Dies Irae, and writes its irrevocable YER
dict in the fame of its west. Think you
that judgments waits till the doors OF the
grave are opened? II waits at the doors
OF your houses-it waits at the corners
or your streets; we are in the midst OF
judgment--the insects that we crush are
our judges, as they minister-and the
pleasures that deceive us. judge as they
indulge. Let us, for our lives. do the work
OF men, while we bear the form OF them
II needed those lives are not as a vapor,
and do not vanish awayl