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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 253 pages of information about A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
guilt and his punishment.  His days and works and thoughts could make no atonement for him, the fountains of sanctifying grace having ceased to refresh his soul.  At most, by an alms given to a beggar whose blessing he fled from, he might hope wearily to win for himself some measure of actual grace.  Devotion had gone by the board.  What did it avail to pray when he knew that his soul lusted after its own destruction?  A certain pride, a certain awe, withheld him from offering to God even one prayer at night, though he knew it was in God’s power to take away his life while he slept and hurl his soul hellward ere he could beg for mercy.  His pride in his own sin, his loveless awe of God, told him that his offence was too grievous to be atoned for in whole or in part by a false homage to the All-seeing and All-knowing.

—­Well now, Ennis, I declare you have a head and so has my stick!  Do you mean to say that you are not able to tell me what a surd is?

The blundering answer stirred the embers of his contempt of his fellows.  Towards others he felt neither shame nor fear.  On Sunday mornings as he passed the church door he glanced coldly at the worshippers who stood bareheaded, four deep, outside the church, morally present at the mass which they could neither see nor hear.  Their dull piety and the sickly smell of the cheap hair-oil with which they had anointed their heads repelled him from the altar they prayed at.  He stooped to the evil of hypocrisy with others, sceptical of their innocence which he could cajole so easily.

On the wall of his bedroom hung an illuminated scroll, the certificate of his prefecture in the college of the sodality of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  On Saturday mornings when the sodality met in the chapel to recite the little office his place was a cushioned kneeling-desk at the right of the altar from which he led his wing of boys through the responses.  The falsehood of his position did not pain him.  If at moments he felt an impulse to rise from his post of honour and, confessing before them all his unworthiness, to leave the chapel, a glance at their faces restrained him.  The imagery of the psalms of prophecy soothed his barren pride.  The glories of Mary held his soul captive:  spikenard and myrrh and frankincense, symbolizing her royal lineage, her emblems, the late-flowering plant and late-blossoming tree, symbolizing the age-long gradual growth of her cultus among men.  When it fell to him to read the lesson towards the close of the office he read it in a veiled voice, lulling his conscience to its music.

Quasi CEDRUS EXALTATA sum in LIBANON et quasi CUPRESSUS in Monte sionQuasi Palma EXALTATA sum in Gades et quasi PLANTATIO ROSAE in JerichoQuasi ULIVA SPECIOSA in CAMPIS et quasi PLATANUS EXALTATA sum JUXTA AQUAM in PLATEIS.  SICUT CINNAMOMUM et BALSAMUM AROMATIZANS ODOREM DEDI et quasi MYRRHA ELECTA DEDI SUAVITATEM ODORIS.

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