Jehovah Has the Final Say: A Testimony of God's Sovereignty and Grace
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Jehovah turned my life around (here we go, come on)He has turned my life around (He makes a way)He makes a way where is no way (come on)Jehovah has the final say (here we go, sing it up now)
Who has the final say? (Jehovah has the final say)Who has the final say? (Jehovah has the final say)No matter what the doctors say (Jehovah has the final say)No matter what your friends may say (Jehovah has the final say)
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"It was like this. I was quietly sitting at my chain one day, making alarge basket, when a man dressed in black, with an edge of white aroundhis neck, came near me and said: 'My brother, what have you done withyour soul?' I had learned a few words of English on the journey.However, I asked my visitor to repeat his question. He repeated it againand again, and I finally understood that he was talking about my Fetish,and that he wished to know what I had done with it. I answered that itwas a sacred thing, and that I had it with me, but that I wouldwillingly employ it in his service if he would acquire me for a sum ofmoney. My answer had the good fortune to please him, it seems, for onthat very evening the excellent Reverend Ebenezer Jones installed me inhis parsonage. He taught me about his great Fetish, who did not muchdiffer from Matori's. Is not a Fetish always something that we do notknow and that works us either good or evil? We ask it for good, and itdoes not always grant it. But as I was just saying, we go on expectingit, and that keeps us in patience.
When the lock seemed to be entirely bedevilled, Claudit would draw fromhis pocket a two-penny knife, the blade of which had gained a saw-edgefrom much usage, and for the final satisfaction of conscience would dowhat he could by "rummaging" with it. After that it was finished.
Man, the supreme arbiter of the destinies of his inferiors, hasarrogated all rights. The child who lets a bird flutter at the end of astring only to jerk it to the ground when the poor creature finallythought itself free, lives in his own person the evolution from thefrank cruelty of the savage to the decent hypocrisies of civilizedbarbarism. Man is, indeed, the first one whom animals learn to guardagainst. Wherever there are no men, or few, birds are among the first tobecome fearless. I have seen nests built in wide recesses and fullyexposed to view, amid the desert ruins of the citadel of Corinth.
At the foot of the long arbour lay a dying birdling. He had as yet nofeathers, but a thin black down covered his bluish skin now painfullyheaving with the last spasms of agony. My first motion was to climb insearch of the nest from which the victim had fallen. I had not mounted ayard from the ground before I found a little dead body similar to theone I had just seen, and while I peered upward into the shadow, whatshould tumble on to my head but a third member of the same brood. Ifinally distinguished the nest, and soon little, stifled cries warned meof something going on in it. I bent to one side, to get a better view,and discovered in the midst of the down-lined dwelling a great grayishblack bird surrounded by three wretched wee ones who had not as yet beentossed into the abyss, but who were rendered miserably uncomfortable bythe inordinate growth of their big brother.
Wearying of the performance, I, finally, with a desire to protect myfriends, the Romans, caught the white bird, and presented it to a friendwho was improving some property in the wilds of Sannois. My chestnuttree relapsed into peace, and the feathered pair continued to taste thejoys of love.
I must say that the virtuous pigeon at first expressed his indignationby coos expressive of fury. But what can you expect? The flesh is weak.When temptation is offered every minute of the day there is some excusefor stumbling. I was a witness of my Roman pigeon's weakening. I saw himfinally succumb to the suggestions of the wanton, and fall into sin! Itis true that, ashamed of his weakness, he immediately chastised vice bypecking the one who had just given him delight, and quickly flew back tothe bed of straw where the invalid lay wondering at his prolongedabsence.
At first the widower wished to make sure of his "misfortune." Hesearched the garden, then the neighbouring roofs where he had formerlyspent long periods in the company of his better half. When he finallybelieved that his legitimate mate had vanished into nothingness, heplunged into bottomless deeps of bliss with the illegitimate one. Whatan example to the inhabitants of Passy!
Then came stark poverty. Alas! if the ability to work had diminished,hunger and thirst, more pressing than ever, had not ceased to claimtheir dues. Jean and his wife asked first one favour of theirneighbours, then another, and when they had worn these out they appliedto their friends, finally to strangers. Thus they passed by a scarcelyperceptible transition from salaried pride to resigned beggary. JeanPiot and his Piotte were well thought of, never having had thereputation of being sluggards. They had, to be sure, led a merry life,fork and glass in hand. But which of their fellow labourers had neverbeen tempted to drown care in the cup? People helped them without toobad a grace. From time to time they still worked when an opportunitycame not out of all proportion with their strength, sapped by work anddisease and white wine.
Little Nick motions to her to wait, but sometimes he takes a few stepsin the supposed direction of the treasure, and Phemie is convinced thatshe will soon finally wrest from him the secret of the undiscoverablehiding place.
Our excellent ancestors of the "lower" animal order have a fixed periodfor the joys of love, and even in monogamy, as I demonstrated in thestory of my pigeons, do not pride themselves upon a "virtue" beyondtheir power. The chief feature of the "higher perfection" to which weaspire, in word if not in deed, seems to be that we are condemned by itto an hypocrisy born of discrepancy between the ideal and our ability torealize it. Marriage, when considered aside from its doctrinal aspect,is found to be a fairly effectual pledge against the straying of theimagination which is the forerunner of human weakness. To protect theweak, that is to say the woman and child, against the caprice of thestrong, is assuredly the duty of society. But who will claim thatmarriage, as the law has instituted it, and as custom practises it,performs that office, and does not oftener than not result in thetriumph, whether just or unjust, of man? Have we not heard, in thediscussion of the divorce law, one of the chiefs of the "advanced" partylending his eloquence to the furtherance of the doctrine of indissolublemarriage, while a famous radical argued that there was no equalitybetween the adultery of the husband and that of the wife, when viewed asa conjugal misdemeanour justifying final separation?
"Giovanni, naturally, had a great admiration for Philip's talent, andmade no secret of it. As for Alice, she regarded her husband as nothingless than a genius. When Philip was dissatisfied with his work he wasfrankly unbearable. He indulged in grumbling and complaining and burstsof anger, followed by long periods of depression. If, on the other hand,he had succeeded in satisfying himself, it was worse still, for then onehad to endure the recital of the entire performance, down to the leasttrifling detail of composition or execution. At first one might listenwith pleasure, or at least benevolence. But the wearisome repetitionfrom morning until night finally became tedious, even exasperating, whenPhilip, with a childish insistence, invited replies, denials, the betterto confound his opponent. The docile Giovanni and the sincerelyadmiring Alice lent themselves resignedly to these gymnastic exercisesof patience, but when days and days had been spent in the occupation,both, exhausted by their efforts, must have longed in body and soul fora distraction more or less in accordance with current social customs. Asmight have been expected, they found it in each other, and from thatmoment peace descended upon the happy home.
"I finally regained the use of my senses. I jumped from my saddle, and Iknow not how, reached the bottom of the quarry. The horse had beenkilled outright. In a red pool lay a gasping, shattered man. It was anold friend of mine, who had been kind to me in my early days in Dorking.I called him. He opened his eyes.
After being tossed and jolted and bruised in the hard sleeping cars, Ihave fallen into the hands of porters, or "traegers" or "facchini,"who bewildered me with their violent pantomime accompanied byanti-French sounds, obliged me to follow them by going off with my wrapsand bags, and after an extortionate charge flung me on to thesympathetically dejected cushions of the hotel omnibus, amid strangecompanions. Next, a hideous rattling of iron and window glass, while agold-laced individual asks me simultaneously in three differentlanguages to account for my presence here, and say how I mean to spendmy time, telling me in the same breath the great advantage there wouldbe in doing something quite different from what I intend to do.Presently the torture changes. A gigantic porter in an imperial greatcoat transfers me to silent automata in black broadcloth and white tie,who hand people and luggage from one to the next as far as the elevator.Nothing more remains but to answer the chambermaid's investigations asto my habits and tastes, my theory of existence, while by an error ofthe hall boy my luggage is scattered in neighbouring rooms, and I amburdened with someone else's. All is finally straightened out. Alone, atlast!