Brother Ebook

[Basa Benejan]

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The Practice of the Presence of God is a classic Christian text by Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection. Born Nicolas Herman in the early seventeenth century, Brother Lawrence entered the Order of Discalced Carmelites as a lay brother when he was twenty-six years old and took the religious name, 'Lawrence of the Resurrection'. Despite his lowly position in the priory, he became known for his wisdom and spiritual guidance in the form of letters and conversations. His teachings later became the basis for The Practice of the Presence of God. The work explains Lawrence's method of acquiring the presence of God.

Production notes: This ebook of The Practice of the Presence of God was published by Global Grey on the 24th November 2021. The artwork used for the cover is 'Portrait of a Carmelite Prior' by Peter Paul Rubens.

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Jacob looked up, and discerning his sweet-flavoured brother, nodded and grinnedin the dim light in a way that made him seem to David like a triumphant demon.If he had been of an impetuous disposition, he would have snatched thepitchfork from the ground and impaled this fraternal demon. But David was by nomeans impetuous; he was a young man greatly given to calculate consequences, ahabit which has been held to be the foundation of virtue. But somehow it hadnot precisely that effect in David: he calculated whether an action would harmhimself, or whether it would only harm other people. In the former case he wasvery timid about satisfying his immediate desires, but in the latter he wouldrisk the result with much courage.

Jacob, finding the lid rather tight, gave the box to his brother in perfectfaith. David raised the lids and shook his head, while Jacob put his finger inand took out a guinea to taste whether the metamorphosis into lozenges wascomplete and satisfactory.

What on earth was David to do? It would have been easy to frown at Jacob, andkick him, and order him to get away; but David dared as soon have kicked thebull. Jacob was quiet as long as he was treated indulgently; but on theslightest show of anger, he became unmanageable, and was liable to fits of furywhich would have made him formidable even without his pitchfork. There was nomastery to be obtained over him except by kindness or guile. David tried guile.

It was nearly six years after the departure of Mr. David Faux for the WestIndies, that the vacant shop in the market-place at Grimworth was understood tohave been let to the stranger with a sallow complexion and a buff cravat, whosefirst appearance had caused some excitement in the bar of the Woolpack, wherehe had called to wait for the coach.

The elder inhabitants pished and pshawed a little at the folly of the newshopkeeper in venturing on such an outlay in goods that would not keep; to besure, Christmas was coming, but what housewife in Grimworth would not thinkshame to furnish forth her table with articles that were not home-cooked? No,no. Mr. Edward Freely, as he called himself, was deceived, if he thoughtGrimworth money was to flow into his pockets on such terms.

I am not ignorant that this sort of thing is called the inevitable course ofcivilization, division of labour, and so forth, and that the maids and matronsmay be said to have had their hands set free from cookery to add to the wealthof society in some other way. Only it happened at Grimworth, which, to be sure,was a low place, that the maids and matrons could do nothing with their handsat all better than cooking: not even those who had always made heavy cakes andleathery pastry. And so it came to pass, that the progress of civilization atGrimworth was not otherwise apparent than in the impoverishment of men, thegossiping idleness of women, and the heightening prosperity of Mr. EdwardFreely.

David pocketed the insult along with the eighty-two pounds three, and travelledhome again in some triumph at the ease of a transaction which had enriched himto this extent. He had no intention of offending his brother by further claimson his fraternal recognition, and relapsed with full contentment into thecharacter of Mr. Edward Freely, the orphan, scion of a great but reducedfamily, with an eccentric uncle in the West Indies. (I have already hinted thathe had some acquaintance with imaginative literature; and being of a practicalturn, he had, you perceive, applied even this form of knowledge to practicalpurposes.)

But now Mr. Freely re-entered the shop without the constable. During his walkof a few yards he had had time and calmness enough to widen his view ofconsequences, and he saw that to get Jacob taken to the workhouse or to thelock-up house as an offensive stranger might have awkward effects if his familytook the trouble of inquiring after him. He must resign himself to more patientmeasures.

They walked into the parlour again; but Jacob, not apparently appreciating thekindness of leaving him to himself, immediately followed his brother, andseated himself, pitchfork grounded, at the table.

Mr. Freely, left alone with his affectionate brother Jacob, brooded over thepossibility of luring him out of the town early the next morning, and gettinghim conveyed to Gilsbrook without further betrayals. But the thing wasdifficult. He saw clearly that if he took Jacob himself, his absence, conjoinedwith the disappearance of the stranger, would either cause the conviction thathe was really a relative, or would oblige him to the dangerous course ofinventing a story to account for his disappearance, and his own absence at thesame time. David groaned. There come occasions when falsehood is felt to beinconvenient. It would, perhaps, have been a longer-headed device, if he hadnever told any of those clever fibs about his uncles, grand and otherwise; forthe Palfreys were simple people, and shared the popular prejudice againstlying. Even if he could get Jacob away this time, what security was there thathe would not come again, having once found the way? O guineas! O lozenges! whatenviable people those were who had never robbed their mothers, and had nevertold fibs! David spent a sleepless night, while Jacob was snoring close by. Wasthis the upshot of travelling to the Indies, and acquiring experience combinedwith anecdote?

He rose at break of day, as he had once before done when he was in fear ofJacob, and took all gentle means to rouse this fatal brother from his deepsleep; he dared not be loud, because his apprentice was in the house, and wouldreport everything. But Jacob was not to be roused. He fought out with his fistat the unknown cause of disturbance, turned over, and snored again. He must beleft to wake as he would. David, with a cold perspiration on his brow,confessed to himself that Jacob could not be got away that day.

Mr. Palfrey was present, and also had his eye on Freely. It is difficult for aman to believe in the advantage of a truth which will disclose him to have beena liar. In this critical moment, David shrank from this immediate disgrace inthe eyes of his future father-in-law.

Mr. Palfrey left the shop; he felt his own pride too severely wounded by thesense that he had let himself be fooled, to feel curiosity for further details.The most pressing business was to go home and tell his daughter that Freely wasa poor sneak, probably a rascal, and that her engagement was broken off.

On this arrangement being concluded, Mr. Prettyman begged Mr. Jonathan Faux togo and take a snack with him, an invitation which was quite acceptable; and ashonest Jonathan had nothing to be ashamed of, it is probable that he was veryfrank in his communications to the civil draper, who, pursuing the benefit ofthe parish, hastened to make all the information he could gather about Freelycommon parochial property. You may imagine that the meeting of the Club at theWoolpack that evening was unusually lively. Every member was anxious to provethat he had never liked Freely, as he called himself. Faux was his name, wasit? Fox would have been more suitable. The majority expressed a desire to seehim hooted out of the town.

In 1967, Sireen Sawalha's mother, with her young children, walked back to Palestine against the traffic of exile. My Brother, My Land is the story of Sireen's family in the decades that followed and their lives in the Palestinian village of Kufr Ra'i. From Sireen's early life growing up in the shadow of the '67 War and her family's work as farmers caring for their land, to the involvement of her brother Iyad in armed resistance in the First and Second Intifada, Sami Hermez, with Sireen Sawalha, crafts a rich story of intertwining voices, mixing genres of oral history, memoir, and creative nonfiction.

Through the lives of the Sawalha family, and the story of Iyad's involvement with the Palestinian Islamic Jihad, Hermez confronts readers with the politics and complexities of armed resistance and the ethical tensions and contradictions that arise, as well as with the dispossession and suffocation of people living under occupation and their ordinary lives in such times. Whether this story leaves readers discomforted, angry, or empowered, they will certainly emerge with a deeper understanding of the Palestinian predicament.

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