The Abduction of Psyche

The Abduction of Psyche
The British Are Coming
The Broken Pitcher
The Jewel Casket
She remained in her father's house during the winter months, plucking fowls, or cramming turkeys and geese, or making clothes for her sisters and brothers out of some finery which d'Urberville had given her, and she had put by with contempt. Apply to him she would not. But she would often clasp her hands behind her head and muse when she was supposed to be working hard. ¡¡¡¡She philosophically noted dates as they came past in the revolution of the year; the disastrous night of her undoing at Trantridge with its dark background of The Chase; also the dates of the baby's birth and death; also her own birthday; and every other day individualized by incidents in which she had taken some share. She suddenly thought one afternoon, when looking in the glass at her fairness, that there was yet another date, of greater importance to her than those; that of her own

Samson And Delilah

Samson And Delilah
seated nude
Spring Breeze
Sweet Nothings
others of the conjecturally damned are laid. In spite of the untoward surroundings, however, Tess bravely made a little cross of two laths and a piece of string, and having bound it with flowers, she stuck it up at the head of the grave one evening when she could enter the churchyard without being seen, putting at the foot also a bunch of the same flowers in a little jar of water to keep them alive. What matter was it that on the outside of the jar the eye of mere observation noted the words `Keelwell's Marmalade'? The eye of maternal affection did not see them in its vision of higher things. `By experience,' says Roger Ascham, `we find out a short way by a long wandering.' Not seldom that long wandering unfits us for further travel, and of what use is our experience to us then? Tess Durbeyfield's experience was of this incapacitating kind. At last she had learned what to do; but who would now accept her doing? ¡¡¡¡If before going to the d'Urbervilles' she had vigorously moved under the guidance of sundry gnomic texts and phrases known to her and to the world in general, no doubt she would never have been imposed on. But it had not been in Tess's power - nor is it in anybody's power - to feel the whole truth of golden opinions while it is possible to profit by them. She - and how many more - might have ironically said to God with Saint Augustine: `Thou hast counselled a better course than Thou hast permitted.'

Regatta At Argenteuil

Regatta At Argenteuil
Rembrandt Biblical Scene
Rembrandt The Jewish Bride
Return of the Prodigal Son
Ah - that's another matter,' he said. ¡¡¡¡`Another matter - why?' asked Tess, rather warmly. ¡¡¡¡`Well - I would willingly do so if only we two were concerned.' ¡¡¡¡`But I must not - for certain reasons.' ¡¡¡¡`Just for once, sir!' ¡¡¡¡`Really I must not.' ¡¡¡¡`O sir!' She seized his hand as she spoke. ¡¡¡¡He withdrew it, shaking his head. ¡¡¡¡`Then I don't like you!' she burst out, `and I'll never come to your church no more!' ¡¡¡¡`Don't talk so rashly.' ¡¡¡¡`Perhaps it will be just the same to him if you don't? - Will it be just the same? Don't for God's sake speak as saint to sinner, but as you yourself to me myself - poor me!' ¡¡¡¡How the Vicar reconciled his answer with the strict notions he supposed himself to hold on these subjects it is beyond a layman's power to tell, though not to excuse. Somewhat moved, he said in this case also-- ¡¡¡¡`It will be just the same.' ¡¡¡¡So the baby was carried in a small deal box, under an ancient woman's shawl, to the churchyard that night, and buried by lantern-light, at the cost of a shilling and a pint of beer to the sexton, in that shabby corner of God's allotment where He lets the nettles grow, and where all unbaptized infants, notorious drunkards, suicides, and

One Moment in Time

One Moment in Time
precious time
Red Hat Girl
Red Nude painting
Having the natural feelings of a tradesman at finding that a job he should have been called in for had been unskilfully botched by his customers among themselves, he was disposed to say no. Yet the dignity of the girl, the strange tenderness in her voice, combined to affect his nobler impulses - or rather those that he had left in him after ten years of endeavour to graft technical belief on actual scepticism. The man and the ecclesiastic fought within him, and the victory fell to the man. ¡¡¡¡`My dear girl,' he said, `it will be just the same.' ¡¡¡¡`Then will you give him a Christian burial?' she asked quickly. ¡¡¡¡The Vicar felt himself cornered. Hearing of the baby's illness, he had conscientiously gone to the house after nightfall to perform the rite, and, unaware that the refusal to admit him had come from Tess's father and not from Tess, he could not allow the plea of necessity for its irregular administration.

My Sweet Rose painting

My Sweet Rose painting
Naiade oil painting
Nighthawks Hopper
Nude on the Beach
Tess, who mused on the christening a good deal, wondered if it were doctrinally sufficient to secure a Christian burial for the child. Nobody could tell this but the parson of the parish, and he was a new-comer, and did not know her. She went to his house after dusk, and stood by the gate, but could not summon courage to go in. The enterprise would have been abandoned if she had not by accident met him coming homeward as she turned away. In the gloom she did not mind speaking freely. ¡¡¡¡`I should like to ask you something, sir.' ¡¡¡¡He expressed his willingness to listen, and she told the story of the baby's illness and the extemporized ordinance. ¡¡¡¡`And now, sir,' she added earnestly, `can you tell me this - will it be just the same for him as if you had baptized him?'