Judge no man hastily or harshly. Know a man long enough and, in most cases, you will know him, in some phase of life, do an act of nobleness.
Environment has a great and often a deciding influence on man’s behaviour; and sometimes it is a man’s misfortune never to have had a chance.
Justice is not so straightforward as it seems. To bring blame home to the true offender, or the true origin of offence, is often a task beyond human breadth of mind and human skill. We attempt, as best we can, what is God’s work—He who sees and knows all things.
It is not always what appears on the surface that really counts; it is when the storms of battle are at their bitterest that the true materials are found out, and the pure metal most praised.
How thoroughly in us is instilled the knowledge of right and wrong! How clearly we know our wickedness when we err! That alone should be sufficient to prove that there is a God and a sound foundation to religion.
WAR’S SCHOOLING
Sleepless night—the bare hard ground an awkward resting-place, and our look-out on the outer edges of outer civilisation. Over on the left of camp a tireless, cheerful youngster, with spirit undaunted, is holding the long, dreary watches through the night. Once he was a dandy-dressed youth of a great city. He has come through a lot since then, he has learned his lesson and his position in a grim world of naked realities. He has risen from nothing to become a man—stripped of the fine clothes of his drifting butterfly days, and aware now of how little they were. For him the war has held more than loyalty to his country, for it held for him, in its own time, and in its own way, the finding of himself.
A boy changed to a man, and the man seeing a world that is not as he built it. He has sighed and fretted for lost dreams, but he knows the battle-ground of Life’s conflict must be in the arena before him, and, headstrong and vigorous, he accepts the challenge against strange weapons and foes, and is of the stuff to prove that he has grown to be a worthy defender of his race.
Routine
At your post there are some days when mists are in your eyes, and you cannot clearly see; there are days when mountains must be climbed with aching limbs and burdened back; and there are days when you are humbled in wretchedness, and glad of the kindliness of natives. Those days we all experience, but, thank God, there are days when the sky is blue and sunshine is in everything, and it is good to be alive.