The Broken Pitcher

The Broken Pitcher
The Jewel Casket
The Kitchen Maid
The Lady of Shalott
A little further on was the summit whence Christminster, or what he had taken for that city, had seemed to be visible. A milestone, now as always, stood at the roadside hard by. Jude drew near it, and felt rather than read the mileage to the city. He remembered that once on his way home he had proudly cut with his keen new chisel an inscription on the back of that milestone, embodying his aspirations. It had been done in the first week of his apprenticeship, before he had been diverted from his purposes by an unsuitable woman. He wondered if the inscription were legible still, and going to the back of the milestone brushed
oil paintingaway the nettles. By the light of a match he could still discern what he had cut so enthusiastically so long ago: ¡¡¡¡ THITHER J. F. [with a pointing finger] ¡¡¡¡ The sight of it, unimpaired, within its screen of grass and nettles, lit in his soul a spark of the old fire. Surely his plan should be to move onward through good and ill--to avoid morbid sorrow even though he did see uglinesses in the world? BENE AGERE ET LOETARI-- to do good cheerfully--which he had heard to be the philosophy of one Spinoza, might be his own even now. ¡¡¡¡ He might battle with his evil star, and follow out his original intention.