What's mine's mine

📖 This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1889 edition. Excerpt: ...God for everything--thank him if you are drowned, or burnt, or anything!" "Now you understand me! That is precisely what I mean." "Then I can never be good, for I could never bring myself to that!" "You cannot bring yourself to it; no one could. But we must come to it. I believe we shall all be brought to it." "Never me! I should not wish it!" "You do not wish it; but you may be brought to wish it; and without it the end of your being cannot be reached. No one, of course, could ever give thanks for what he did not know or feel as good. But what is good must come to be felt good. Can you suppose that Jesus at any time could not thank his Father for sending him into the world?" "You speak as if we and he were of the same kind!" "He and we are so entirely of the same kind, that there is no bliss for him or for you or for me but in being the loving obedient child of the one Father." "You frighten me! If I cannot get to heaven any other way than that, I shall never get there." "You will get there, and you will get there that way and no other. If you could get there any other way, it would be to be miserable." "Something tells me you speak the truth; but it is terrible! I do not like it." "Naturally." She was on the point of crying. They were alone in the drawing-room of the cottage, but his mother might enter any moment, and Ian said no more. It was not a drawing toward the things of peace that was at work in Christina: it was an urging painful sense of separation from Ian. She had been conscious of some antipathy even toward him, so unlike were her feelings, thoughts, judgments, to his: this feeling had changed to its opposite. A meeting with Ian was now to Christina the great event of day or week; but Ian, in love with the dead, never thought of...