ittle arrow
of down!"

"Now that may not be a sympathetic or even Christian way of doing things,"
he went on presently, "but for all that, I do love to see the force of
life, the intentness of living. I like our friend the beech a little
better, because he is helping his friends, though he doesn't know it, and
the thistle is only helping himself. But I am sure that it is the right way
to go at it! We mustn't be always standing aside and making room: we
mustn't obliterate ourselves. We have a right to our joy in life, and we
mustn't be afraid of it. If we give away what we have got, it must cost us
something--it must not be a mere relinquishing."

"It is rather hard to combine the two principles," I said--"the living of
life, I mean, and the giving away of life."

"Well, I think that devotion is better than self-sacrifice," said Father
Payne. "On the whole I mistrust weakness more than I mistrust strength.
It's easy to dislike violence--but I rather worship vitality. I would
almost rather see a man forcing his way through with some callousness, than
backing out, smiling and apologising. You can convert strength, you can't
do anything with weakness. Take the sort of work you fellows do. I always
feel I can chasten and direct exuberance: what I can't do is to impart
vigour. If a man says his essay is short because he can't think of anything
to write, I feel inclined to say, 'Then for goodness' sake hold your
tongue!' It's the people who can't hold their tongue, who go on roughly
pointing things out, and commenting, and explaining, and thrusting
themselves in front of the show, who do something. Of course force has to
be kept in order, but there it is--it lives, it must have its say. What you
have to learn is to insinuate yourself into life, like ivy, but without
spoiling other people's pleasure. That's liberty! The old thistle has no
respect for liberty, and that is why he is rooted up. But it's rather sad
work doing it, because he does so very much want to be alive. But it isn't
liberty simply to efface yourself, because you may interfere with other
people. The thing is to fit in, without disorganising everything about
you."

He mused for a little in silence; then he said, "It's like almost
everything else--it's a weighing of claims! I don't want you fellows to be
either tyrannical or slavish. It's tyrannical to bully, it's slavish to
defer. The thing is to have a firm opinion, not to be ashamed of it or
afraid of it;