"He rebukes with mildness, and invokes with the most tender and persuasive language—His whole address, whether in word or deed, being elegantly grave, and strictly characteristic of so exalted a being. No man has seen Him laugh, but the whole world beholds Him weep frequently, and so persuasive are His tears that the whole multitude can not withhold their tears from joining in sympathy with Him. He is moderate, temperate, and wise; in short, whatever the phenomenon may turn out in the end, He seems at present to be a man of excellent beauty and Divine perfection, every way surpassing man."
To turn one's back on the Memorial Supper is to disregard the most tender, and loving, and melting of all our Saviour's commandments. It is not needful to know just how obedience will help us. It is enough to know that it was His dying command that we keep it till He come.
—Henry M. Grout.
No man ought to profess the name of Christ who is not willing to do the deeds of Christ.
Our Saviour is represented everywhere in Scripture as the special patron of the poor and afflicted.
IS NOT THIS THE CARPENTER?
Mark, vi, 3.
Yes, yes, a Carpenter, same trade as mine. It warms my heart as I read that line. I can stand the hard work, I can stand the poor pay, For I'll see that Carpenter at no distant day.
—From Thoughts for Every-day Living.
He that thinks he hath no need of Christ hath too high thoughts of himself. He that thinks Christ can not help him hath too low thoughts of Christ.
A Christian is the highest style of man.
He that is a good man, is three-quarters of his way towards the being a good Christian, wheresoever he lives, or whatsoever he is called.
There is no fire without heat, No light without brightness, No voice without sound, No water without moisture, And there is no Christian Who is not Christlike.
—Rev. L. W. Irwin.
As Henry Drummond, on board a government packet, was steaming away from that group of islands known as the New Hebrides, after having visited the missions there, he was asked by a fellow-passenger who had been visiting the islands for a very different purpose, what good the missionary had been to those people. "My dear young man," said Drummond, "only for the missionary, you and I, instead of being in this cabin, would probably by this time have been inside some of those savages, as you call them, who waved us such an affectionate farewell from their shores." Yes, Christianity is now recognized the world over, as foremost among the moral forces that are civilizing the dark corners of the earth. Even Matthew Arnold was forced to admit that there is no civilization without it. "Show me," he said, "ten square miles outside of Christianity where the life of man or woman is safe, and I'll throw over Christianity at once."
—From the Missionary Outlook.
Christmas is truly merry only to those who think of others.
PLENTY OF ROOM.
A visiting bishop, in Washington, was arguing with a senator on the desirability of attending church. At last he put the question squarely: "What is your personal reason for not attending?"
The senator smiled in a no-offense-intended way, as he replied: "The fact is, one finds so many hypocrites there."
Returning the smile, the bishop said:
"Don't let that keep you away, senator; there's always room for one more."
Some bring their clothes to church rather than themselves.
Bare communion with a good church can never alone make a good man.
HOW THE CHURCH MUST GROW.
It has seemed sometimes in recent years as if the deaths were more than the births. This has brought home to the Church the absolute need of the revival of religion if Christianity is not to perish from the world which it has re-made. The Church is not an establishment in the world, but an encampment. She has no natural increase. She lives only by capture, by winning over from the world the citizens that make her number. One must arm another with the Christian panoply, if the Church is to continue.
—The British Weekly.
HOW TO WARM UP THE CHURCH.
I was once preaching in Scotland, and when I got to the church it was so cold that I could see my breath three feet away, said Rev. D. L. Moody. I said to the "beadle," as they call him:
"Aren't you going to have any heat in this building?"
He said they had no stoves or any other provision for heat.
"Well, how do you expect people to get warm?"
"Oh!" he said, "we expect the pulpit to warm us up."
NOTE: In Dr. Guthrie's Autobiography, vol. I, page 125—Describing the first church he became pastor of, in Arbirlot, in 1830, he says: "As to stoves, they were never thought of—the pulpit had to keep the people warm."
A minister, observing that some of his people made a practice of coming in very late, and after a considerable part of the sermon was over, determined that they should feel the force of public reproof. One day, therefore, as they entered the place of worship at their usual late hour, the minister, addressing his congregation, said: "But, my hearers, it is time for us now to conclude, for here are our friends just come to fetch us home."
We may easily conjecture what the parties felt at this curious but pointed address.
BOTH KEPT AWAKE IN CHURCH.
A country minister in Scotland, who was much annoyed by two members of his congregation, Macpherson and Macintosh, sleeping during the sermon, hit upon a way to put an end to this state of matters. Calling on Macintosh, he said: "By the way, Mr. Macintosh, have you ever noticed Mr. Macpherson sleeping during the sermon?" "Many a time," replied Macintosh, virtuously. "Well, next Sunday you might sit beside Macpherson and try and keep him awake." "I'll do that sir," said Macintosh. Then the minister went to Macpherson and went through the same programme concerning Macintosh.
Next Sunday it was highly amusing to those in the secret to see Macintosh and Macpherson sitting next to each other, both perfectly wide awake.
When once thy foot enters the church, beware, God is more there than thou; for thou art there only by His permission. Then beware and make thyself all reverence and fear.
Take the child to church, whether he likes it or not. What he likes has nothing to do with it; what is best for him is the only question.
There are two classes of people in the church; the one is made up of those who do the hard work of the church, and the other of those who sit at home and—criticise.
Men are dependent on circumstances, and not circumstances on men.
A great merchant was asked by what means he contrived to realize so large a fortune as he possessed. His reply was: "Friend, by one article alone, in which thou may'st deal too if thou pleasest—civility."
Civility is a desire to receive civility, and to be accounted well-bred.
The clergyman who lives in the city may have piety, but he must have taste.
Before me on the mantel-block, There ticks a busy little clock— The measurer of time. It never stops or tries to shirk; Unceasingly it plies its work With zeal almost sublime.
Oh could I work as steadily, Oh could I just as faithful be, As this minute machine— My life would be filled with success, with industry, with usefulness, and happiness serene.
M. in Hampden-Sidney Magazine.
I do not envy a clergyman's life as an easy life, nor do I envy the clergyman who makes it an easy life.
A clergyman should never come tired before his people, but rather like an engine when it leaves the round-house, oiled, equipped with fuel and water, and with all its strength waiting to be put forth.
In his last annual report, President Eliot states that the average age of students entering Harvard is eighteen years of age and ten months. He then intimates that if students could be induced to enter college earlier, as they did in Emerson's time, there would be fewer failures.
When musing on companions gone We doubly feel ourselves alone.
"Aye gang (always go) wi' them that's better than yerself."
—Old Scotch Saying.
If this was done generally, there would be a levelling up, instead of a levelling down.
Pleasant company shortens the miles.
Mothers of many, with envious eyes, Gaze as I drive through the evening cool, Swift as I pass them, we mingle our sighs, For my arms are empty—and theirs over-full.
"See her," they say, "with her laces and pearls! All for the rich! 'Tis the world's common rule. We have but rags for our boys and our girls; Empty our pockets—her coffers are full."
Mothers! To yours, tender voices reply, Little ones' hands at your skirts softly pull; Widowed and lonely and childless am I, Empty my heart—though my coffers are full.
POOR AND RICH.
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? O sweet content! Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed? O punishment!
Every one must see daily instances of people who complain, from a mere habit of complaining.
A compliment is usually accompanied with a bow, as if to beg pardon for paying it.
—J. C. Hare.
Illuminate me with a ray of your intelligence!
Deference is the most complicate, the most indirect, and the most elegant of all compliments.
Legitimate Sport—Those who fish for compliments deserve to get a bite.
To attempt to advise conceited people is like whistling against the wind.
Never seem wiser, nor more learned, than the people you are with.
I've never any pity for conceited people, because I think they carry their comfort about with them.
Conceit may puff a man up, but never prop him up.
Many persons are obliged to their imagination for more than three-fourths of their importance.
Discuss your plans with many, decide on them with few, or by yourself.
Between right and wrong never waver a moment.
—From the German.
Confidence always gives pleasure to the man in whom it is placed.
No one so sure but he may miss.
Don't cry hurrah till you are over the bridge.
—From the German.
Confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged bosom.
He who knows the road, can ride at full trot.
—From the Italian.
Never put much confidence in those who put no confidence in others.
A good conscience is sometimes sold for money, but never bought with it.
Money dishonestly acquired is never worth its cost, while a good conscience never costs as much as it is worth.
A clear conscience is a good pillow.
A quiet conscience makes one so serene!
Conscience is the chamber of justice.
Conscience may be said to be the voice of God within us.
Conscience, that sound of God in the human heart, whose "still small voice" the loudest revelry can not drown.
—W. H. Harrison.
Consistency—Thou art a jewel!
Is there no constancy in earthly things? No happiness in us, but what must alter?
Do even as you will, that this dispute live not between us as a consuming fire forever!
Where two discourse, if the one's anger rise, The man who lets the contest fall is wise.
"I never complained of my condition but once," said an old man, "when my feet were bare and I had no money to buy shoes; but I met a man without feet, and became contented."
It is right to be contented with what we have, but never with what we are.
—Sir James Mackintosh.
A favorite saying of the beloved Dr. John A. Broaddus was: "It is better to like what you have, than to have what you like."
If you live according to nature, you never will be poor; if according to the world's caprice, you never will be rich.
Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground.
Since we have loaves, let us look not for cakes.
To be content with little is difficult; to be content with much—impossible.
—Marie Ebner Eschenbach.
If thou hast but little, make it not less by murmuring.
Contentment will make a cabbage look as fair as a palace.
May we never murmur without a cause, nor have cause to murmur.
He that is rich need not live sparingly, and he that can live sparingly need not be rich.
Some have too much, yet still do crave; I have little, and seek no more: They are but poor, though much they have, And I am rich with little store; They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; They lack, I have; they pine, I live.
—Sir Edward Dyer, (Died 1607.)
If all the gems of earth were mine And wealth and power were to me sent, How infinitely poor I'd be Without content.
—Annie W. McCoy.
Is it possible to find perfect contentment? Some one once said:—"The secret of perfect contentment is, that there isn't any."
"It is a great blessing to possess what one wishes," said one to an ancient philosopher, who replied, "It is a greater blessing still, not to desire what one does not possess."
Contentment is a pearl of great price, and whoever procures it at the expense of ten thousand desires, makes a wise and happy purchase.
He that deserves nothing should be content with anything.
He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.
When the well is dry, then we all know the worth of water.
In conversation avoid the extremes of Forwardness and Reserve.
Conversation.—To please others we should talk on subjects they like and that interest them; avoid disputes, seldom ask questions, and never let them see that we pretend to be better informed than they are.
The first ingredient in conversation is truth, the next good sense, the third good humor, and the fourth wit.
—Sir W. Temple.
Conversation is the music of the mind; an intellectual orchestra, where all the instruments should bear a part, but where none should play together.
Never argue in society; if any person differs from you, bow, and turn the conversation.
I never, with important air, In conversation overbear.
One of the best rules in conversation is, never say a thing which any of the company can reasonably wish had been left unsaid.
Conversation.—As it is the mark of great minds to say many things in a few words, so it is that of little minds to use many words to say nothing.
"So much they talked, so very little said."
To say nothing charmingly is a great gift.
Conversation.—In general those who nothing have to say contrive to spend the longest time in doing it.
—An Oriental Apologue.
With thee conversing, I forget all time.
It is better to turn back than to go astray.
—From the German.
He who converses with no one, learns nothing.
As rust corrupts iron, so envy corrupts man.
Corporations have no souls:—Lord Chancellor Thurlow said, "that corporations have neither bodies to be punished, nor souls to be condemned; they therefore do as they like."
Corruption is a tree, whose branches are Of an unmeasurable length: they spread Ev'rywhere; and the dew that drops from thence Hath infected some chairs and stools of authority.
—Beaumont and Fletcher.
The thatched cottage where one is merry, is preferable to a palace where one weeps.
—From the Chinese.
Good counsel never comes too late.
From a safe port 'tis easy to give counsel.
He that winna be counselled canna be helped.
In many counsellors there is safety.
—From the Latin.
Cheerful looks make every dish a feast, And 'tis that, that crowns a welcome.
The countenance is frequently more expressive than the tongue.
A pleasing countenance is no slight advantage.
A smiling countenance indicates courtesy, joy, good humor and happiness.
The character of a man's native country is as strongly impressed on his mind as its accent is on his tongue.
The fact that the following verses are heard to-day proves their "convenience," to say the least, for they were written by William Livingston in 1747:——
Mine be the pleasure of a rural life, From noise remote, and ignorant of strife, Far from the painted belle and white-gloved beau, The lawless masquerade, and midnight show, From lapdogs, courtiers, garters, stars, Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars!
A breath of unadulterated air, The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheer The citizen, and brace his languid frame. Even in the stifling bosom of the town; A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charms That soothe the rich possessor. And are these not all proofs that man immured In cities, still retains his inborn inextinguishable Thirst of rural scenes, compensating his loss By supplemental shifts the best he may?
LOVE OF COUNTRY.
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, "This is my own—my Native Land!" Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering on a foreign strand? If such there breathe, go—mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim— Despite those titles, power and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
—Sir Walter Scott.
The wise men of Greece were asked which was the best governed country. Clemenese replied, "the people who have more respect for the laws than the orators."
He who loves not his country, can love nothing.
A great deal of talent is lost to the world for the want of courage.
Life is not so short but that there is always time enough for courtesy.
The courtesy with which I receive a stranger, and the civility I show him, form the background on which he paints my portrait.
Courtesy on one side, never lasts long.
Men dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.
Courtship and Marriage.—"Their courtship was carried on in poetry." Alas! many a pair have courted in poetry, and after marriage lived in prose.
Courtship may be said to consist of a number of quiet attentions, not so pointed as to alarm, nor so vague as not to be understood.
Covetousness.—A young man once picked up a sovereign lying in the road. Ever afterward, in walking along, he kept his eye fixed steadily upon the ground in hopes to find another. And in the course of a long life he did pick up, at different times, a goodly number of coins, gold and silver. But all these years, while he was looking for them, he saw not that the heavens were bright above him, and nature beautiful around. He never once allowed his eye to look up from the mud and filth in which he sought his treasure; and when he died—a rich old man—he only knew this fair earth as a dirty road to pick up money as you walk along. Thus you see the desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
The coward only threatens when he is secure.
The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.
Credit, like a looking-glass, broken once, is gone, alas!
He who doesn't take care of his credit will soon have none to take care of.
There are two directly opposite reasons why some men cannot get credit—one is because he is not known—the other because he is.
The critic stood with scornful eye Before a picture on the wall: "You call this art? Now see that fly, It is not natural at all.
It has too many legs, its head Is far too large—who ever saw A fly like that, so limp and dead, And wings that look as if they—pshaw!"
And with a gesture of disgust He waved his hand, when lo! the fly Flew from the picture. "Ah! some dust," The critic said, "was in my eye."
Some one has said that finding fault is done on a smaller capital than any other business, and it is a very fascinating business, too, for people of—small calibre.
A man must serve his time to every trade, Save censure; critics all are ready-made.
The culture of a man is like the changing of raw material into the manufactured article. The uncultured man is comparatively helpless and worthless.
—The Religious Telescope.
Curiosity! who hath not felt Its spirit, and before its altar knelt?
Custom forms us all; Our thoughts, our morals, our most fixed belief Are consequences of our place of birth.
Daughter.—To a father waxing old nothing is dearer than a daughter; sons have spirits of higher pitch, but less inclined to sweet endearing fondness.
BEREFT OF AN ONLY DAUGHTER.
This day my loved one leaves me, and my heart Is heavy with its grief: the streams of sorrow, Choked at the source, repress my faltering voice. I have no words to speak; mine eyes are dimmed By the dark shadows of the thoughts that rise Within my soul. If such the force of grief In an old hermit parted from his nursling, What anguish must the stricken parent feel Bereft forever of an only daughter!
Weep not my daughter, check the gathering tear That lurks beneath thine eyelid, ere it flow And weaken thy resolve; be firm and true— True to thyself and me, the path of life Will lead o'er hill and plain, o'er rough and smooth, And all must feel the steepness of the way, Tho' rugged be thy course, press boldly on.
Honor thy betters; even be respectful To those above thee. Should thy wedded lord Treat thee with harshness, thou must never be Harsh in return, but patient and submissive. Be to thy menials courteous, and to all Placed under thee considerate and kind: Be never self-indulgent, but avoid Excess in pleasure; and, when fortune smiles Be not puffed up. Thus to thy husband's house Wilt thou a blessing prove, and not a curse.
See here it is dawning Another bright day: Think wilt thou let it Slip uselessly away?
He mourns the dead who lives as they desire.
—Dr. E. Young.
One of the Fathers said: "That there is but this difference between the death of old and young men,—that old men go to death, and death comes to young men."
THE REPROOF OF A FOOL.
There was a certain nobleman who kept a fool, to whom he one day gave a staff, with a charge to keep it till he should meet with one who was a greater fool than himself. Not many years after, the nobleman fell sick, even unto death. The fool came to see him: his lord said to him—"I must shortly leave you." "And whither are you going?" said the fool. "Into another world," replied his lordship. "And when will you come again? Within a month?" "No." "Within a year?" "No." "When then?" "Never." "Never!" said the fool, "and what provision hast thou made for thy entertainment there, whither thou goest?" "None at all." "No!" said the fool, "none at all! Here then, take my staff; for with all my folly, I am not guilty of any such folly as this."
The divinity who rules within us, forbids us to leave this world without his command.
When a man dies, they who survive him, ask what property he has left behind. The angel who bends over the dying man, asks what good deeds he has sent before him.
Happy is, or ought to be, the man who owes nothing.
If you would avoid paying debts, avoid incurring them.
But wealth and power have no immortal day, For all things ripen only to decay.
Lose this day loitering,—'t will be the same story To-morrow, and the next more dilatory; The indecision brings its own delays, And days are lost lamenting over days. Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute, What you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Only engage, and then the mind grows heated,— Begin, And then the work Will be completed.
—J. W. Von Goethe.
Let him that hath done the good office conceal it; let him that hath received it disclose it.
He built a house, time laid it in the dust; He wrote a book, its title now forgot; He ruled a city, but his name is not On any tablet graven, or where rust Can gather from disuse, or marble bust. He took a child from out a wretched cot, Who on the state dishonor might have brought, And reared him to the Christian's hope and trust. The boy to manhood grown, became a light To many souls, preached for human need The wondrous love of the Omnipotent. The work has multiplied like stars at night When darkness deepens; every noble deed Lasts longer, than a granite monument.
—Sarah H. Bolton.
"He wishes well" is worthless, unless the deed go with it.
Deformed.—Mock not at those who are misshapen by nature. He that despiseth them despiseth God that made them.
Away with delay! it always injures those that are prepared.
Do not delay: the golden moments fly!
True delicacy, that most beautiful heart-leaf of humanity, exhibits itself most significantly in little things.
Nothing prevents our being natural so much as the desire to appear so.
Remember that your dependents have seldom a full power of replying to you; and let the recollection of that make you especially considerate in your dealings with them.
—Sir Arthur Helps.
Honorable descent is in all nations greatly esteemed; besides, it is to be expected that the children of men of worth will be like their fathers.
When any great design thou dost intend, Think on the means, the manner, and the end.
—Sir J. Denham.
The desires of man increase with his acquisitions.
Ships that pass at night, and speak each other in passing, Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness: So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another, Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
INSCRIPTION FOR A SUN-DIAL.
The shadow by my finger cast Divides the future from the past: Before it sleeps the unborn hour In darkness, and beyond thy power: Behind its unreturning line, The vanished hour, no longer thine: One hour alone is in thy hands— The Now on which the shadow stands.
—Henry Van Dyke.
RISE ABOVE YOUR DIFFICULTIES.
Not till after the death of a member of Parliament, a prominent county magistrate, the owner of large estates, and an active, public-spirited man in all local and national matters, was it known by those who had not seen him, that it was but the misshapen block of a man that had lived this active, manly life.
He was born with neither legs nor arms. After his death his story was told: how he resolved, when but a boy, to act and live as did other boys, without regard to his horrible misfortune; how he persisted in studying every book, in learning every game, in joining in every amusement possible to him, with his companions. How, to the last year of his life, he held himself to be as responsible as other men, and bravely paid every tithe of duty to God and to his fellows.
Even in lesser matters in life he pressed to the front. He was the most genial, witty guest at social dinner tables. Strapped to his horse, he hunted foxes in Yorkshire, or tigers in India, and with his brothers made long journeys in other parts of the world. Everywhere his cheerfulness and gaiety gave new life to duller souls.
Is there no lesson for us all in the life of this gallant gentleman?
Dr. Roux, the celebrated French physician, said: "The greater part of preparation for the digestion of food takes place in the mouth."
True dignity exists independent of— "Studied gestures or well-practiced smiles."
We have all met with a great many disappointments, and if we live much longer, shall likely meet with many more.
Discontented People.—You have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness.
'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face, When discontent sits heavy at my heart.
Discontent is a man's, and a woman's, worst enemy.
Thinkest thou the man whose mansions hold The worldling's pomp, and miser's gold, Obtains a richer prize Than he, who, in his cot at rest, Finds heavenly peace a willing guest, And bears the promise in his breast Of treasures in the skies?
Be discreet in all things, and so render it unnecessary to be mysterious about anything.
Thy friend has a friend, and thy friend's friend has a friend;—be discreet.
Woe unto him that increaseth that which is not his!
—Habakkuk 2, 6v.
No man's disposition will alter, say what we may.
Shut not thy purse-strings always against distress.
Thou, who feelest not for the distress of others, Meritest not to be called by the name of man.
It is better occasionally to be deceived in people than for one to be always distrustful.
God and the doctor we alike adore In times of danger, only,—not before: The danger past, both are alike requited; God, is alas!—forgotten, and the doctor—slighted.
Did you never observe that dogs have not the power of comparing? A dog will take a small bit of meat as readily, when both are before him.
—Dr. Sam'l Johnson.
THE FAITHFUL DOG.
When wise Ulysses, from his native coast Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tost, Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone, To all his friends, and ev'n his queen, unknown: Chang'd as he was with age, and toils, and cares, Furrow'd his rev'rend face, and white his hairs, In his own palace forc'd to ask his bread, Scorn'd by those slaves his former bounty fed, Forgot of all his own domestic crew; The faithful dog alone his master knew! Unfed, unhous'd, neglected, on the clay Like an old servant, now cashier'd he lay; And, tho' e'en then expiring on the plain Touch'd with resentment of ungrateful man, And longing to behold his ancient lord again. Him, when he saw—he rose, and crawl'd to meet, 'Twas all he could, and fawn'd, and kiss'd his feet, Seized with dumb joy: then, falling by his side, Own'd his returning lord, look'd up, and died.
Food remains for three days in the stomach of the dog, because God knew that his food would be scanty.
—From the Talmud.
If you are in doubt whether to write a letter or not—don't! The advice applies to doubts in life besides that of letter writing.
Our doubts are traitors, And make us love the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt.
THE ORPHAN BOY'S DREAM.
The room is old—the night is cold,— But night is dearer far than day; For then, in dreams, to him it seems That she's returned who's gone away! His tears are pass'd—he clasps her fast,— Again she holds him on her knee; And, in his sleep, he murmurs deep, "Oh! mother, go no more from me!"
Dreams.—Children of night, of indigestion bred.
We sacrifice to dress, till household joys And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, And keeps our larder lean; puts out our fires, And introduces hunger, frost and woe, Where peace and hospitality might have reign'd.
Those who think that in order to dress well, it is necessary to dress extravagantly or grandly, make a great mistake. Nothing so well becomes true feminine beauty as simplicity.
No real happiness is found In trailing purple o'er the ground.
—Geo. D. Prentice.
Numbers vi, 3.—"He shall separate himself from wine and strong drink."
A heathen king, who had been for years confirmed in the sin of drunkenness by the evil practices of white men on the Sandwich Islands, had been led to forsake the dreadful habit. He said lately to a missionary, "suppose you put four thousand dollars in one hand, and a glass of rum in the other; you say, you drink this rum, I give you four thousand dollars, I no drink it; you say you kill me, I no drink it."
THE RIGHT ANSWER.
In an address to a temperance society, Admiral Capps told a story which is printed in the New York Tribune.—A man who had ruined his health with alcohol sat looking sadly at his wife, to whom he had made many promises of reform.
"Jenny," he said, "you are a clever woman, a courageous, good woman. You should have married a better man than I am."
She looked at him, thin-limbed and stoop-shouldered, prematurely old, and answered, quietly, "I did, James."
Genesis ix, 21—"Noah drank of the wine, and was drunken."
A person in Maryland, who was addicted to drunkenness, hearing a considerable uproar in his kitchen one night, felt the curiosity to step without noise to the door, to know what was the matter; when he found his servants indulging in the most unbounded roars of laughter at a couple of negro boys, who were mimicking himself in his drunken fits!—as how he reeled and staggered—how he looked and nodded—and hiccupped and tumbled. The pictures which these children of nature drew of him, and which had filled the rest with such inexhaustible merriment, struck him with so salutary a disgust, that from that night he became a perfectly sober man, to the great joy of his wife and children.
From drink, with its ruin, and sorrow and sin, I surely am safe if I never begin.
Pray tell me whence you derive the origin of the word dun? The true origin of this expression owes its birth to one Joe Dunn, a famous bailiff of the town of Lincoln, England, so extremely active, and so dexterous at the management of his rough business, that it became a proverb, when a man refused to pay his debts, "Why don't you Dun him?" that is, why don't you send Dun to arrest him? Hence it grew a custom, and is now as old as since the days of Henry VII.
Knowledge is the hill which few may hope to climb; Duty is the path that all may tread.
When a minister preaches his sermon, he should do so fearlessly, i. e. like a man who cuts up a big log,—let the chips fall where they may.
Do what you ought, come what may.
Duty:—I hate to see a thing done by halves; if it be right, do it boldly; if wrong, leave it undone.
Whosoever contents himself with doing the little duties of the day, great things will, by-and-by, present themselves to him for their fulfilment also.
We make time for duties we love.
One should choose a wife with the ears, rather than with the eyes.
What is told in the ear, is often heard a hundred miles off.
'Tis easy for any man who has his foot unentangled by sufferings, both to exhort and to admonish him that is in difficulties.
If you take things easy when you ought to be doing your best work, you will probably have to keep hard at work when you might be taking it easy.
Nothing is easy to the unwilling.
—From the German.
He that eats longest lives longest.
Half of what we eat is sufficient to enable us to live, and the other half that we eat enables the doctors to live.
Economy is the easy chair of old age.
He that will not economize may some day have to agonize.
Economy is no disgrace; it is better living on a little, than living beyond your means.
In abundance prepare for scarcity.
Lay up something for a rainy day; it may be needed some day.
Economy is something like a savings-bank, into which we drop pennies and get dollars in return.
—H. W. Shaw.
Take care to be an economist in prosperity: there is no fear of your being one in adversity.
For age and want, save while you may, No morning sun lasts a whole day.
Economy is too late at the bottom of the purse.
Spend not when you must save, Spare not when you must spend.
Every man must educate himself. His books and teacher are but helps; the work is his.
Scottish Education. "A boy was compelled by the poverty of his parents to leave school and take temporary work as an assistant to Lady Abercombie's gardener. When his services were no longer required, the lady gave him a guinea and said, 'Well, Jack, how are you going to spend your guinea?' 'Oh my lady,' he replied, 'I've just made up my mind to tak' a quarter o' Greek, for I hadna got beyond Latin when I left school."
—Dr. J. Herr.
Nearly all things are difficult before they are easy.
—From the French.
There is as much eloquence in the tone of voice, in the eyes, and in the air of a speaker, as in his choice of words.
EXTERNAL SIGNS OF EMOTIONS AND PASSIONS.
One would not imagine who has not given particular attention, that the body should be susceptible to such variety of attitudes and emotions, as readily to accompany every different emotion with a corresponding expression. Humility for example, is expressed naturally by hanging the head; arrogance, by its elevation; and languor or despondence, by reclining it to one side. The expressions of the hands are manifold by different attitudes and motions; they express desire, hope, fear; they assist us in promising, in inviting, in keeping one at a distance; they are made instruments of threatening, of supplication, of praise, and of horror; they are employed in approving, in refusing, in questioning; in showing our joy, our sorrow, our doubts, our regret, and our admiration.
The evil one does not tempt people whom he finds suitably employed.
To be employed is to be happy.
Do good to thy friend, that he may be more thy friend; and unto thy enemy, that he may become thy friend.
He who has a thousand friends, Has never a one to spare, And he who has one enemy, Will be apt to meet him everywhere.
Boswell said of Dr. Johnson—"Though a stern true-born Englishman, and fully prejudiced against all other nations, he had discernment enough to see, and candour enough to censure, the cold reserve too common among Englishmen towards strangers. 'Sir,' said he, (Johnson) 'two men of any other nation who are shown into a room together, at a house where they are both visitors, will immediately find some conversation. But two Englishmen will probably go each to a different window, and remain in obstinate silence. Sir, we as yet do not enough understand the common rights of humanity.'"
Rochefoucauld said, "The truest mark of being born with great qualities is being born without envy."
If we did but know how little some enjoy the great things they possess, there would not be so much envy in the world.
All matches, friendships, and societies are dangerous and inconvenient, where the contractors are not equal.
Equivocation is first cousin to a lie.
—From the French.
What has been done amiss should be undone as quickly as possible.
Beware of errors of the mouth.
The man who never makes any blunders, seldom makes any good hits.
Etiquette.—Good taste rejects excessive nicety; it treats little things as little things, and is not hurt by them.
Certain signs precede certain events.
AVOIDING THE SUGGESTION OF EVIL.
Sir Peter Lely made it a rule never to look at a bad picture, having found by experience that whenever he did so, his pencil took a tint from it. Bishop Home said of the above: "Apply this to bad books and bad company."
I am endowed by God with power to conquer all evil.
How quickly and quietly the eye opens and closes, revealing and concealing a world!
Achilles: This is not strange, Ulysses, The beauty that is borne here in the face The bearer knows not, but commends itself To other's eyes: nor doth the eye itself, That most pure spirit of sense behold itself, Not going from itself, but eye to eye oppos'd Salutes each other.
The silent upbraiding of the eye is the very poetry of reproach; it speaks at once to the imagination.
Eyes are more accurate witnesses than ears.
Old men's eyes are like old men's memories; they are strongest for things a long way off.
The eyes of other people are the eyes that ruin us. If all but myself were blind, I should never want a fine house nor fine furniture.
The eyes are the windows of the soul.
We always weaken whatever we exaggerate.
He who has seen much of the world, is very prone to exaggeration.
Every man is bound to tolerate the act of which he has himself given the example.
Noble examples excite us to noble deeds.
He who makes excuses, himself accuses.
A man must often exercise, or fast, or take physic, or be sick.
—Sir W. Temple.
I am no longer the fool I was, I have learned by experience.
All is but lip-wisdom, which wants experience.
—Sir Philip Sidney.
Among all classes of society we see extravagance keeping pace with prosperity, and indeed outstripping it, realizing Archbishop Whately's paradox: "The larger the income, the harder it is to live within it."
—Hugh S. Brown.
A clouded face Strikes deeper than an angry blow.
We write our lives upon our faces, deep, An autograph which they will always keep. Thoughts cannot come and leave behind no trace Of good or ill; they quickly find a place Where they who will may read as in a book, The hidden meaning of our slightest look.
Nature has written a letter of credit on some men's faces which is honored wherever it is presented.
The surest way not to fail, is to determine to succeed.
THE MOUNTAIN FLOWER.
In Ross-shire, Scotland, there is an immense mountain gorge. The rocks have been rent in twain, and set apart twenty feet, forming two perpendicular walls two hundred feet in height. On either side of these natural walls, in crevices where earth has collected, grow wild flowers of rare quality and beauty. A company of tourists visiting that part of the country were desirous to possess themselves of specimens of these beautiful mountain flowers; but how to obtain them they knew not. At length they thought they might be gathered by suspending a person over the cliff by a rope. They offered a Highland boy, who was near by, a handsome sum of money to undertake the difficult and dangerous task. The boy looked down into the awful abyss that yawned below, and shrunk from the undertaking; but the money was tempting. Could he confide in the strangers? Could he venture his life in their hands? He felt that he could not; but he thought of his father, and, looking once more at the cliff, and then at the proffered reward, his eyes brightened, and he exclaimed: "I'll go if my father holds the rope." Beautiful illustration of the nature of faith.
Faith builds a bridge from this world to the next.
To be trusted is perhaps a greater compliment than to be loved.
He who believes in nobody knows that he himself is not to be trusted.
Trust not him that hath once broken faith.
It goes a great way toward making a man faithful, to let him understand that you think him so.
All that a man gets by being untruthful is, that he is not believed when he speaks the truth.
Telling an untruth is like leaving the highway and going into a tangled forest. You know not how long it will take you to get back, or how much you will suffer from the thorns and briers in the wild woods.
There is no greater mistake in social life than indulging in over-familiarity. Intercourse, even between intimate friends, should have some dignity about it.
A family is a little world within doors; the miniature resemblance of the great world without.
—J. A. James.
Where can one be happier than in the bosom of his family?
We are all here— Father, mother, sister, brother, All who hold each other dear. Each chair is filled, we're all at home; To-night let no stranger come. It is not often thus around Our old, familiar hearth we're found Blessed, then, the meeting and the spot: For once be every care forgot; Let gentle peace assert her power, And kind affection rule the hour: We're all, all here.
Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been— A sound which makes us linger;—yet—farewell.
If thou dost bid thy friend farewell, But for one night though that farewell may be, Press thou his hand in thine. How canst thou tell how far from thee Fate or caprice may lead his steps ere that to-morrow comes? Men have been known lightly to turn the corner of a street, And days have grown to months, And months to lagging years, ere they Have looked in loving eyes again . . . . . . Yea, find thou always time to say some earnest word Between the idle talk, lest with thee henceforth, Night and day, regret should walk.
MAN AND THE FARM.
It is a common complaint that the farm and farm life are not appreciated by our people. We long for the more elegant pursuits, or the ways and fashions, of the town. But the farmer has the most sane and natural occupation, and ought to find it sweeter, if less highly seasoned, than any other. He alone, strictly speaking, has a home. How many ties, how many resources, he has!—his friendship with his cattle, his team, his dog, his trees; the satisfaction in his growing crops, in his improved fields; his intimacy with nature, with bird and beast, and with the quickening elemental forces; his co-operations with the cloud, the sun, the seasons, heat, wind, rain, frost. It humbles him, teaches him patience and reverence. Cling to the farm, make much of it, put yourself into it, bestow your heart and brain upon it.
A HINT TO A FARMER.
Shun thou seats in the shade, nor sleep till the dawn! in the season When it is harvest-time, and your skin is parched in the sunshine.
How beautiful is the following picture by Caroline Anne Bowles, only child of Captain Charles Bowles, of Blackland, England. Born 1787:
My father loved the patient angler's art, And many a summer's day, from early morn To latest evening, by some streamlet's side, We two have tarried; strange companionship! A sad and silent man; a joyous child! Yet those were days as I recall them now Supremely happy. Silent though he was, My father's eyes were often on his child Tenderly eloquent—and his few words Were kind and gentle. Never angry tone Repulsed me if I broke upon his thoughts With childish question. But I learned at last, Learned intuitively to hold my peace. When the dark hour was on him, and deep sighs Spoke the perturbed spirit—only then I crept a little closer to his side, And stole my hand in his, or on his arm Laid my cheek softly: till the simple wile Won on his sad abstraction, and he turned With a faint smile, and sighed and shook his head, Stooping toward me; so I reached at last Mine arm about his neck and clasped it close, Printing his pale brow with a silent kiss.
—From Littell's Living Age.
Love for a Father.—In the year 1773, a gentleman in England, whose health was rapidly declining, was advised by his physicians to go to Spa for the recovery of his health. His daughters feared that those who had only motives entirely mercenary would not pay him that attention which he might expect from those who, from duty and affection united, would feel the greatest pleasure in ministering to his ease and comfort; they, therefore, resolved to accompany him. They proved that it was not a spirit of dissipation and gaiety that led them to the springs, for they were not to be seen in any of the gay and fashionable circles; they were never out of their father's company, and never stirred from home, except to attend him, either to take the air or drink the waters; in a word, they lived a most recluse life in the midst of a town then the resort of the most illustrious and fashionable personages of Europe. This exemplary attention to their father procured these three amiable sisters the admiration of all the visitors at Spa, and was the cause of their elevation to that rank in life to which their merits gave them so just a title. They were all married to noblemen: one to the Earl of Beverly, another to the Duke of Hamilton, and a third to the Duke of Northumberland. And it is justice to them to say that they reflected honor on their rank, rather than derived any from it.
I have a Father! It needeth not that I should see His face, When each new day brings token of His grace. Who can deny the Power that brings to pass The yearly miracle of springing grass? Who can withhold allegiance, that sees The harvest glory of the fruited trees?
Confessing a fault makes half amends. Denying one doubles it.
Not to repent of a fault, is to justify it.
Whoever thinks a faultless one to see Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er will be.
Faults.—Every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbors' faults, and another behind him in which he stows his own.
Better find one of our own faults, Than ten Of our neighbor's.
A GREAT MAN'S FAULTS.
Lord Bolingbroke was one evening at a large party. Political subjects were talked of, and the conversation finally turned on the famous Duke of Marlborough. Every one had something to say against him, many blaming his avarice. Bolingbroke was silent. One of the company inquired, "How is it that you say nothing? You knew him better than all of us, and could tell us a good deal about him." Bolingbroke replied, "He was a great man, and I have forgotten all his faults."
Each should be sure of an untarnished name, Before he ventures others' faults to blame.
The greatest of faults, is to be conscious of none.
Wink at wee (little) faults; Your ain are muckle.
He who asks timidly courts a refusal.
There is pleasure in meeting the eyes of one on whom you are going to confer a favor.
A little figure glided through the hall. "Is that you, Pet?" the words came tenderly. A sob—suppressed to let the answer fall,— "It isn't Pet, mama, it's only me."
The quivering baby-lips! They had not meant To utter any word that could plant a sting, But to that mother-heart a strange pang went; She heard, and stood like a convicted thing.
One instant, and a happy little face Thrilled 'neath unwonted kisses rained above; And from that moment "Only Me" had place And part with Pet in tender mother-love.
We like better to see those on whom we confer benefits, than those, alas! from whom we receive them.
It is not the quantity of the meat but the cheerfulness of the guests, which makes the feast.
Feast to-day with many makes fast to-morrow.
FEASTING AND FASTING.
Accustom early in your youth To lay embargo on your mouth; And let no rarities invite To pall and glut your appetite; But check it always, and give o'er With a desire of eating more; For where one dies by inanition, A thousand perish by repletion: To miss a meal sometimes is good,— It ventilates and cools the blood.
Every young man has a fine season in his life when he will accept no office, and every young woman has the same in hers, when she will accept no husband; by and by they both change, and often take one another into the bargain.
He was—True as the needle to the pole, Or as the dial to the sun.
MY OWN FIRESIDE.
Let others seek for empty joys At ball or concert, rout or play; Whilst, far from fashion's idle noise, Her gilded domes, and trappings gay, I while the wintry eve away,— 'Twixt book and lute the hours divide And marvel how I e'er could stray From thee—my own Fireside!
All that a fish drinks goes out at the gills. (Spent as soon as got.)
Did we not flatter ourselves, the flattery of others could never hurt us.
Boswell: "No quality will get a man more friends than a disposition to admire the qualities of others. I do not mean flattery, but a sincere admiration." Johnson: "Nay, Sir, flattery pleases very generally. In the first place, the flatterer may think what he says to be true; but in the second place, whether he thinks so or not, he certainly thinks those whom he flatters of consequence enough to be flattered."
Flowers.—These children of the meadows, born of sunshine and of showers!
Flowers.—Pretty daughters of the Earth and Sun.
What a desolate place would be a world without a flower! It would be a face without a smile—a feast without a welcome Are not flowers the stars of the earth? and are not the stars we see at night the flowers of heaven?
It is my faith that every flower which blows Enjoys the air it breathes.
How many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
I never cast a flower away, The gift of one who cared for me; A little flower—a faded flower, But it was done reluctantly.
—L. E. Landon.
Flowers are the pledges of fruit.
—From the Danish.
He who gives advice to a fool, beats the air with a stick.
None is a fool always, everyone sometimes.
Infallible Test.—A theological student, supposed to be deficient in judgment, was asked by a professor, in the course of a class examination, "Pray, how would you discover a fool?" "By the questions he would ask," was the rather stunning reply.
One never needs one's wits so much as when one has to do with a fool.
Nothing is so silly as to insist on being the only person who is right.
How ill white hairs become a fool and jester.
If all fools wore white caps, the majority of us would look like a flock of geese.
Young folks tell what they do, old ones what they have done, and the others (fools) what they intend to do.
Where force prevails, right perishes.
If there is a harvest ahead, even a distant one, it is poor thrift to be stingy of your seed-corn!
A FOREST IDYL.
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes and cares To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm To thy sick heart.
A retentive memory may be a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness.
If there be One of you all that ever from my presence I have with sadden'd heart unkindly sent, I here, in meek repentance, of him crave A brother's hand, in token of forgiveness.
'Tis easier for the generous to forgive Than for the offender to ask it.
A gentleman went to a friend, in great anger at a real injury he had received, which he intended to resent. After relating the particulars, he enquired if it would not be manly to resent it? His friend replied, "Yes; it would doubtless be manly to resent it, but it would be godlike to forgive it."
How beautifully falls Forgiveness—'tis the attribute of God— From human lips that bless'd word, Forgive; Thrice happy he whose heart has been so schooled That he can give it utterance; it imparts Celestial grandeur to the human soul, And maketh man an angel.
We forgive just as long as we love.
Hast thou a grudge within thy breast, Which time will not repair? Is hatred still a lurking guest To intercept thy prayer? "Forgive, and thou shalt be forgiven" Is the decree of heaven.
"Till seven times! shall I forgive?" Was asked our gracious Lord, List to his answer, heed and live, "Seventy times seven" 's His word. "Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven;" Doubt not the word of heaven.
He that cannot forgive others, breaks down the bridge over which he must pass himself, for every one has need to be forgiven.
The world never forgives; it is only God and our mothers that can do that.
—Ellen F. Fowler.
Forgiveness that covers only part of the wrong, is like two fingers given in a handshake.
SUPPOSE YOU TRY FORGIVENESS.
The story is told of a British soldier who had broken every rule of the army and on whom every form of punishment had been inflicted without avail. He sinned again. His commanding officer was in despair as to what should be done. A fellow officer said, "Suppose you try forgiveness." The guilty soldier was summoned. On being asked what he had to say in palliation of his offense, he hung his head and replied: "Nothing, except I'm very sorry." "Well," said the officer, "We have decided to forgive you." The culprit looked dazed, burst into tears, saluted, and went out to become one of the best soldiers in the army.
—From The Rise of a Soul. By James I. Vance.
Individuals sometimes forgive, but bodies and societies never do.
Nothing is more dangerous to men than a sudden change of fortune.
The continuance of good fortune forms no ground of ultimate security.
Fortune gives too much to many, but to none enough.
Good-fortune comes to some people while they are asleep, i. e., without their seeking it.
Good fortune that comes seldom, comes more welcome.
How often it is, in the twinkling of an eye one vicissitude of fortune follows another.
That which we acquire with most difficulty, we retain the longest; as those who have earned a fortune are usually more careful of it than those who have inherited one.
Fortune knocks once at least at every one's door.
If fortune favors you, do not be too elated; if she frowns, do not despond too much.
Manners often make fortunes.
Fortune sometimes makes quick despatch, and in a day May strip you bare as beggary itself.
The Result of Fortune:—The generality of men sink in virtue as they rise in fortune.
—Sir J. Beaumont.
Don't live in hope with your arms folded. Fortune smiles on those who roll up their sleeves and put their shoulders to the wheel.
Whil'st fortun'd favour'd; friends, you smil'd on me: But, when she fled, a friend I could not see.
GOD IN THE HEART.
Collins, the freethinker, met a plain countryman going to church. He asked him where he was going. "To church sir." "What to do there?" "To worship God." "Pray, whether is your God a great or little God?" "He is both, sir." "How can He be both?" "He is so great that the heaven of heavens cannot contain Him, and so little that He can dwell in my heart." Collins declared that this simple answer had an effect upon his mind such as all the volumes which learned men had written against him had not.
The bird once out of hand is hard to recover.
—From the Danish.
A time like this demands Strong minds, stout hearts, true faith and ready hands; Men whom the lust of office cannot kill, Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy, Men who possess opinion and a will, Men who have honor, men who will not lie, Men who can stand before a demagogue And scorn his treacherous flatteries without winking, Tall men, sun crowned, who live above the fog In public duty, and in private thinking; For while the rabble with their thumb worn creeds, Their large professions, and their little deeds Mingle in selfish strife, lo! Freedom weeps, Wrong rules the land and waiting Justice sleeps!
He who attacks an absent friend, or who does not defend him when spoken ill of by another—that man is a dark character; beware of him.
Be my friend, and teach me to be thine!
My shadow, wheresoe'er I wend, Is with me, like a flattering friend. But chiefly when the sun in June Is climbing to its highest noon, My fond attendant closes near, As I were growing still more dear; And then, to show its love complete, Falls even servile at my feet, Where, proud of place, it scarcely nods Before the temple of the Gods. But when the evening sun descends, It seems to seek for other friends, Making a dial of the town, To tell that Timon's day goes down; And when the stormy night comes on, I look, and lo! my shade is—gone.
Ah, how good it feels; The hand of an old friend!
If you want enemies, excel others; if you want friends, let others excel you.
A man may have a thousand intimate acquaintances and not a friend among them all. If you have one friend, think yourself happy.
Go slowly to the entertainment of your friends, but quickly to their misfortunes.
LEAVE A FRIEND.
Leave a friend! So base I am not. I followed him in his prosperity, when the skies were clear and shining, and will not leave him when storms begin to rise; as gold is tried by the furnace, and the baser metal is shown, so the hollow-hearted friend is known by adversity.
Do not lose sight of old attachments for the sake of making new friendships.
A man who is fond of disputing, will, in time, have few friends to dispute with.
AN OLD RHYME.
I once had money and a friend, By both I set great store; I lent my money to my friend, He was my friend no more.
If I had my money and my friend, As I had once before, I'd keep my money to myself, And lose my friend no more.
If you have a friend worth loving, Love him. Yes, and let him know That you love him, ere life's evening Tinge his brow with sunset glow; Why should good words ne'er be said Of a friend till he is dead?
It is more dishonorable to distrust a friend than to be deceived by him.
No life is so strong and complete, But it sometimes yearns for the smile of a friend.
He was never a friend who ceased to be so—for a slight cause.
A friend cannot be known in prosperity; and an enemy cannot be hidden in adversity.
When a friend asks, there should be no tomorrow.
The best mirror is an old friend.
I am not of that feather to shake off my friend when he must need me. I do know him, a gentleman that well deserves a help, which he shall have: I'll pay the debt and free him.
A cut or slight from a foe or stranger, may be scarred over, but a stab from a friend you love hardly ever heals.
—H. L. Meader.
He that telleth thee that thou art always wrong, may be deceived; but he that saith that thou art always right, is surely not telling the truth.
No man can be happy without a friend, nor be sure of his friend till he is unfortunate.
He that ceases to be a friend never was a good one.
A FRIEND THAT STICKETH CLOSER THAN A BROTHER.
One there is above all others, Well deserves the name of Friend! His is love beyond a brother's, Costly, free, and knows no end: They who once His kindness prove, Find it everlasting love!
If you wink at your friend's vices you make them your own.
Without a friend the world is but a wilderness.
Absolute friends are very rare.
Friends, but few on earth, and therefore dear.
It is to chance we owe our relatives, to choice our friends.
Equals make the best friends.
False friends are like our shadows, keeping close to us while we walk in the sunshine, but leaving us the instant we cross into the shade.
There are plenty acquaintances in the world, but very few real friends.
By my skill I have got many acquaintances, my manners very many friends.
Friends are lost by calling often, and calling seldom.
We ought always to make choice of persons of such worth and honor for our friends, that, if they should even cease to be so, they will not abuse our confidence, nor give us cause to fear them as enemies.
Let us make the best of our friends while we have them, for how long we shall keep them is uncertain.
Friends are like melons. Shall I tell you why? To find one good, you must a hundred try.
Friends are sometimes like titled husbands, easy to get, if you have enough money.
—H. L. Meader.
Make new friends, but keep the old; Those are silver, these are gold.
My treasures are my friends.
Without friends, no one would choose to live, even if he had all other good things.
Old friends and old ways ought not to be disdained.
Friends, but few on earth, and therefore dear.
The poor man's assets are his friends.
Purchase not friends by gifts; when thou ceasest to give such will cease to love.
RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
Baxter said:—"I must confess, as the experience of my own soul, that the expectation of loving my friends in heaven principally kindles my love to them while on earth. If I thought I should never know, and consequently never love them after this life, I should number them with temporal things, and love them as such; but I now delightfully converse with my pious friends, in a firm persuasion that I shall converse with them forever; and I take comfort in those that are dead or absent, believing that I shall shortly meet them in heaven, and love them with a heavenly love."
A gift kept back where it was hoped, often separateth chief friends.
Strange to say,—I am the only one of my friends I can rely upon.
There is no living without friends.
True friends anticipate each other's wants.
Friends are sometimes like mushrooms, they spring up in out-of-the-way places.
At the gate of abundance there are many brothers and friends; at the gate of misfortune there is neither brother nor friend.
It is one of the severest tests of friendship to tell a man of his faults. So to love a man that you cannot bear to see the stain of sin upon him, and to go to him alone and speak painful truths in touching, tender words,—that is friendship, and a friendship as rare as it is precious.
Henceforth there shall be no other contention betwixt you and me, than which shall outdo the other in point of friendship.
Cultivate your neighbor's friendship; he needs you and you need him.
Friendship often ends in love; But love, in friendship —Never.
Renewed friendships require more care than those that have never been broken.
Need for making Acquaintance.—If a man does not make new acquaintances as he advances through life, he will soon find himself left alone. A man should keep his friendship in constant repair.
Suspicion kills friendship.
Who friendship with a knave hath made, Is judg'd a partner in the trade.
What need of years, long years, to prove The sense of friendship, or of love!
There is truly nothing purer and warmer than our first friendship, our first love.
—Jean Paul Richter.
The permanency of most friendships depends upon the continuity of good fortune.
Quickly made friendships, are often eagerly and quickly ended.
Rare is true love: true friendship is still rarer.
Real friendship is like a sheltering tree.
He is my friend that helps me, and not he that pities me.
Friendship has a power To soothe affliction in her darkest hour.
—H. Kirke White.
O summer friendship, Whose flattering leaves, that shadow'd us in Our prosperity, with the least gust drop off In th' autumn of adversity!
THE HIGHER FRIENDSHIP.
Love Him, and keep Him for thy Friend, who, when all go away, will not forsake thee, nor suffer thee to perish at the last.
True friendship is one of the greatest blessings upon earth; it makes the cares and anxieties of life sit easy; provides us with a partner in every affliction to alleviate the burthen, and is a sure resort against every accident and difficulty that can happen.
True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it is lost.
Those who speak always and those who never speak, are equally unfit for friendship.
He who never gives advice, and he who never takes it are alike unworthy of friendship.
He who is worthy of friendship at all will remember in his prosperity those who were his friends in his adversity.
Value the friendship of him who stands by you in a storm; swarms of insects will surround you in the sunshine.
No matter how poor and mean a man is, his friendship is worth more than his hate.
Good fruit never comes from a bad tree.
There is nothing like fun, is there? I haven't any myself, but I do like it in others.
Groping for the Door.—O door, so close, yet so far off!
If you would have your name chime melodiously in the ears of future days, cultivate faith, and not doubt, giving unto every man credit for the good he does, and never attribute base motives to beautiful acts.
Future:—The future does not come from before to meet us, but comes streaming up from behind over our heads.
Future—to be met without Fear:—Look not mournfully into the past,—it comes not back again; wisely improve the present,—it is thine; go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear, and with a manly heart.
One thing obtained with difficulty is far better than a hundred things procured with ease.
Gain, has oft, with treacherous hopes led men to ruin.
Either hand must wash the other; If you take, then you must give.
Gain has a pleasant odor.
Prefer loss before unjust gain; for that brings grief but once; this forever.
Gain at the expense of reputation should be called loss.
No pains, no gains.
It is impossible to be just, if one is not generous.
Justice should precede generosity.
Generosity should never exceed ability.
Show me the man who can quit the brilliant society of the young and listen to the kindly voice of age, who can hold cheerful converse with one whom years have deprived of charms. Show me the man of generous impulses, who is always ready to help the poor and needy; who treats unprotected maidenhood as he would the heiress surrounded by the protection of rank, riches and family; who never forgets for an instant the delicacy, the respect, that is due a woman in any condition or class. Show me such a man and you show me a gentleman—nay, more, you show me a true Christian.
It's not the gay coat makes the gentleman.
The man who is kind and obliging and is ready to do you a favor without hope of reward, who speaks the truth—is a gentleman,
In any garb, And wherever he may be found.
Propriety of manners and consideration for others are the two main characteristics of a gentleman.
REAL AND ARTIFICIAL GENTLEMEN.
A friend of mine, not long ago, coming over from Ireland, heard a man asking, in reference to another, who he was. "I don't know," was the reply; "but he's quite a gentleman. He always wears a tall hat." Indeed, there are those who seem to be incapable of valuing their fellow-men by anything except their clothes. A story is told of a Persian prince, which well illustrates such worldliness. Dressed as a poor man, this prince went to a feast. He was pushed here and there, could not get to the table, and had soon to withdraw. On going home, he dressed himself in his best, placing jewelled slippers on his feet, and putting on a cloth-of-gold cloak. Then he returned to the feast, where matters were immediately altered. The guests made room, and the host, rushing up, cried, "Welcome, my lord! What will your lordship please to eat?" The prince's answer was very expressive. Stretching out his foot, so that his slipper sparkled and glittered, he took his golden robe in his hand, and said with bitter irony, "Welcome, my lord coat! welcome, most excellent robe! What will your lordship please to eat? For," said he, turning to his surprised host, "I ought to ask my coat what it will eat, since the welcome was solely to it."
We never teach men to be gentlemen, but we teach them everything else; and they never pique themselves so much on all the rest, as on knowing how to be gentlemen. They pique themselves only on knowing the one thing they have not learnt.
The true gentleman is he who does not plume himself on anything.
Let him speak who received; let the giver hold his peace.
Give freely to him that deserveth well and asketh nothing; and that is a way of giving to thyself.
Better a penny given with a smile than a pound given with a frown.
To give so as to bestow a favor and not create an obligation, is a delicate art.
He gives twice who gives quickly, according to the proverb; but a gift not only given quickly but unexpectedly, is the most welcome of all.
He who sedulously attends, pointedly asks, calmly speaks, coolly answers, and ceases when he has no more to say, is in possession of some of the best mental gifts of mankind.
THE BEST GIFTS.
The best of gifts to mortal man is health; The next, the bloom of beauty's matchless flower; The third is blameless and unfraudful wealth; The fourth with friends to use youth's joyous hour.
THE DYING GIRL TO HER LOVER.
Fare thee well, love, fare thee well, From the world I pass away, Where the brightest things that dwell All deceive and all decay; Cheerfully I fall asleep As by some mysterious spell, Yet I weep to see thee weep— Fare thee well, love, fare thee well!
Tell of me, love, tell of me, Not amid the heartless throng, Not when passion bends the knee, Not where pleasure trills the song. But when some most cherish'd one By your side at 'eve shall be, Ere your twilight tales are done, Tell of me, love, tell of me!
Leave me now, love, leave me now, Not with sorrow, not with sighs, Not with clouds, love, on thy brow, Not with tears, love, in thine eyes. We shall meet, we know not where, And be blest, we dream not how, With a kiss and with a prayer Leave me now, love, leave me now!
—By Winthrop M. Praed.
ADVICE TO A GIRL.
Never love unless you can Bear with all the faults of man! Men sometimes will jealous be Though but little cause they see, And hang the head as discontent, And speak what straight they will repent.
Men, when their affairs require, Must awhile themselves retire; Sometimes hunt, and sometimes hawk, And not ever sit and talk:—— If these and such-like you can bear, Then like, and love, and never fear!
THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS.
The Princess of Wales has decided views on the education of children. Her Royal Highness, it appears, strongly objects to "cramming" children with useless learning, which she declares is a mere waste of time.
The Princess considers it harmful to force a child in studies which are distasteful to it, and that the child should be allowed to abandon that study, and take up one it likes better.
Similarly, she disapproves of advanced arithmetic for girls. She considers that all that most girls need ever know about arithmetic, is addition and subtraction, "enough to know how to do their housekeeping and pay their debts," she says.
No one can give what he has not.
Not every one that dances is glad.
THE HOUR GLASS
Is an emblem of human life. Behold! how swiftly the sands run, and how rapidly our lives are drawing to a close! We cannot, without astonishment, behold the little particles which are contained in this machine; how they pass away almost imperceptibly! And yet, to our surprise, in the short space of an hour, they are all exhausted. Thus wastes man! To-day he puts forth the tender leaves of hope; to-morrow, blossoms, and bears his blushing honors thick upon him; the next day comes a frost, which nips the shoot; and when he thinks his greatness is still aspiring, he falls, like autumn leaves, to enrich our mother earth.
The Greatness of God.—Said Dr. Guthrie, "If philosophy is to be believed, our world is but an outlying corner of creation; bearing, perhaps, as small a proportion to the great universe, as a single grain bears to all the sands of the seashore, or one small quivering leaf to the foliage of a boundless forest." Yet even within this earth's narrow limits, how vast the work of Providence! How soon is the mind lost in contemplating it! How great that Being whose hand paints every flower, and shapes every leaf; who forms every bud on every tree; who feeds each crawling worm with a parent's care, and watches like a mother over the insect that sleeps away the night in the bosom of a flower; who throws open the golden gates of day, and draws around a sleeping world the dusky curtains of the night; who measures out the drops of every shower, the whirling snowflakes, and the sands of man's eventful life; who determines alike the fall of a sparrow and the fate of a kingdom; and so overrules the tide of human fortunes, that whatever befall him, come joy or sorrow, the believer says—"It is the Lord; let Him do what seemeth Him good."
But as it is written, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him."
—I Cor. 2, 9v.
Every little blade of grass declareth the presence of God.
—From the Latin.
THE FATHER'S LOVE.
Rest and be still: Nought happens thee but of His blessed will. There's not a wind that blows, There's not a lily grows Without His bidding—and His child shall He Forget and leave uncomforted? Nay, see How not a small brown sparrow (sorry thing!) Without His hand can droop or raise a wing! And thou art better far unto thy God! Lo! if He calls thee to a way untrod Where stones and rugged places tear thy feet, And bitter herbs alone are for thy meat, Or if He set thee high, and with a song Fill thy rejoicing mouth, and make thee strong; Yet know thou this: He loves thee just as dear When dimpling laughter lights thy face, or tear With bitter tear goes chasing down thy cheek, And thy poor heart may break but cannot speak!
Rest and be still. God hath not good and ill. All that He sends is good, altho' our eye For weeping scarce His rainbow can descry. He is our Father, and His name is Love. E'en when thy grief is greatest—look above! Look up! look up! and thou shalt surely see A Father's loving face down-bent to thee!
The more a man denies himself, the more he shall obtain from God.
THE LOVE OF GOD.
The following beautiful lines were composed in 1779, by a distinguished scholar—at the time partially insane.
Could we with ink the ocean fill, Were the whole earth of parchment made, Were every single stick a quill, Were every man a scribe by trade; To write the love of God alone, Would drain the ocean dry; Nor would the scroll contain the whole Though stretched from earth to sky.
Whoever devotes himself to the veneration of God, whatever road he may choose, will come to God, and that the means to this, is, to avoid hurting any living being.
Be true and thou shalt be free; Truth belongs to thee, and thy success to the creator.
From the Persian. —By David Shea and A. Troy.
Who comes to God an inch, through doubtings dim, In blazing light God will Advance a mile to him.
—Sayings of Rabia.
A gold key is apt to open every door.
THE GOLDEN RULE.
If I should see A brother languishing in sore distress, And I should turn and leave him comfortless When I might be A messenger of hope and happiness— How could I ask to have what I denied In my own hour of bitterness supplied?
If I might share A brother's load along the dusty way, And I should turn and walk alone that day— How could I dare, When, in the evening watch, I knelt to pray To ask for help to bear my pain and loss, If I had heeded not my brother's cross?
And so I know That day is lost wherein I fail to lend A helping hand to some wayfaring friend; But if it show A burden lightened by the cheer I sent, Then do I hold the golden hours well spent, And lay me down to sleep in sweet content.
GOLF AND MATRIMONY.
"As an illustration of the enthusiasm with which golf is pursued by its votaries," says Harper's Weekly, "the following anecdote is told of a well known Scotch author, and a young friend of his. The two had spent the whole day on the links, and had had some close and exciting matches; as they left for home the elder man remarked:
"'Do you think ye could play again to-morrow, laddie?'
"'Well,' answered the youth, 'I was going to be married to-morrow, but I can put it off.'"
All things come round to him who will but wait and work.
Every person is responsible for all the good within the scope of his abilities.
Doing good is the only certainly happy action of a man's life.
—Sir P. Sidney.
The pleasure of doing good is the only one that never wears out.
The good we have received from a man requires us to be tender of the evil he does us.
Seeking others' good, we find our own.
What is the difference between being good and bad? The good do not yield to temptations, and the bad do.
The definition was so simple and so wise, that Leonard was more struck with it than he might have been by an elaborate sermon.
—Sir E. B. Lytton, Bart.
And as each day, that ne'er returns, But joins the past, Comes and goes by, the rich man toils Hard at his task,— No time for thought or anything But just his wealth. Can he be dreaming life's for aye? Now fails his health, And death comes in and beckons him away.
Good that was in his hands to do, He left undone, Forgetting, in his race for wealth, Life's setting sun! His thoughts all lay in how to make One dollar seven: And then, too late, he found, for gold There's no demand in heaven.
"Farewell! farewell!" is often heard From the lips of those who part: 'Tis a whispered tone,—'tis a gentle word, But it springs not from the heart. It may serve for the lover's closing lay, To be sung 'neath a summer sky; But give to me the lips that say The honest words, "Good-by!"
"Adieu! adieu!" may greet the ear, In the guise of courtly speech: But when we leave the kind and dear, 'Tis not what the soul would teach. Whene'er we grasp the hands of those We would have forever nigh, The flame of friendship bursts and glows In the warm, frank words, "Good-by."
The mother, sending forth her child To meet with cares and strife, Breathes through her tears, her doubts, and fears For the loved one's future life. No cold "adieu," no "farewell," lives Within her choking sigh, But the deepest sob of anguish gives, "God bless, thee, boy! 'Good-by!'"
The sign of goodness in the young is to love the old; and in the old to love the young.
To all, to each, a fair good night, And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
—Sir Walter Scott.
The Cross is the guarantee of the Gospel; therefore it has been its standard.
There is so much bad in the best of us, And so much good in the worst of us, That it hardly behooves any of us, To talk about the rest of us.
—Robert Louis Stevenson.
Leviticus xix. 16.—"Thou shalt not go up and down as a talebearer among thy people."
At a small town in ——shire lives a decent honest woman, who has for more than forty years gained her livelihood by washing in gentlemen's families. She gives the highest satisfaction to all her employers, and has, in several instances, been the whole of that time in the employ of the same families. Indeed, those whom she has once served never wish to part with her. She has one distinguishing excellency, it is this: through all this course of years,—forty—she has never been known, by either mistress or servant, to repeat in one house what was said or done in another.
—John Whitecross, Edinburgh, 1835.
Tale-bearers, as I said before, are just as bad as the tale-makers.
The inquisitive are the funnels of conversation; they do not take in anything for their own use, but merely to pass it to others.
What future misery ought they to endure who talk of what is not good in others.
If families have no sons devoted to letters, whence are the governors of the people to come?
(Necessity for general education.)
He governs best who governs least.
Some hae meat and canna eat, And some that want it, but canna get it; But we hae meat, and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit.
REBUKED BY A KING.
The king of one of the Friendly Islands became a Christian, and once went on board of a British vessel, where he was invited to dine with the officers. Observing he did not taste his food, the Captain inquired the cause; when the simple native replied, that he was waiting for the blessing to be asked. All felt rebuked, and the king was desired to say grace, which he did with becoming solemnity.
Expect not praise from the mean, Neither gratitude from the selfish.
Your bounty is beyond my speaking; But though my mouth be dumb, my heart shall thank you; And when it melts before the throne of mercy, My fervent soul shall breathe one tear for you, That heaven will pay you back, when most you need, The grace and goodness you have shown to me.
God judges your gratitude more by your hands than by your hymns.
Many a thanksgiving sermon mistakes glorification of self for gratitude to God.
May we look around us with pleasure, And above us with gratitude.
Nought so becomes a man as gratitude For good received; Noble deeds are still The offspring of benevolence, whilst he With whom remembrance dies of blessings past Is vile and worthless.
—Sophocles, born 496, B. C.
It is much better to make presents in articles than in money, because gratitude for the latter is spent as soon as that is.
—Jean Paul Richter.
Gratitude, we find in the dictionary, but not often in the heart of man.
When the tree is felled, its shadows disappear.
(Desertion of the great by their parasites.)
AGAINST EXCESSIVE GRIEF.
(From a letter addressed to the Countess of Essex on the loss of her only daughter.)
"I know no duty in religion more generally agreed on, nor more justly required by God Almighty, than a perfect submission to His will in all things; nor do I think any disposition of mind can either please Him more, or become us better, than that of being satisfied with all He gives, and contented with all He takes away. None, I am sure, can be of more honor to God, nor of more ease to ourselves. For, if we consider Him as our Maker, we cannot contend with Him; if as our Father, we ought not to distrust Him: so that we may be confident whatever He does is intended for good; and whatever happens that we interpret otherwise, yet we can get nothing by repining, nor save anything by resisting.
Submission is the only way of reasoning between a creature and its Maker; and contentment in His will is the greatest duty we can pretend to, and the best remedy we can apply to all our misfortunes."
GOD'S SURE HELP IN SORROW.
Leave all to God, Forsaken one, and stay thy tears; For the Highest knows thy pain, Sees thy sufferings and thy fears; Thou shalt not wait His help in vain; Leave all to God!
Be still and trust! For His strokes are strokes of love, Thou must for thy profit bear; He thy filial fear would move, Trust thy Father's loving care, Be still and trust!
Know God is near! Though thou think Him far away, Though His mercy long have slept, He will come and not delay, When His child enough hath wept, For God is near!
Oh, teach Him not When and how to hear thy prayers; Never doth our God forget; He the cross who longest bears Finds his sorrows' bounds are set; Then teach Him not!
If thou love Him, Walking truly in His ways, Then no trouble, cross or death E'er shall silence faith and praise; All things serve thee here beneath, If thou love God.
From the German of Anton Ulrich, Duke of Brunswick, 1667. Translation of Catherine Winkworth, 1855.
He grieves more than is necessary who grieves before it is necessary.
"A great Latin poet said nearly two thousand years ago:
'If you would draw tears from the eyes of others, Yourself the sign of grief must show.'"
—From W. J. Bryan's speech in Japan.
They truly mourn that mourn without a witness.
There is no grief that time will not soften.
He mourns indeed who mourns when he's alone.
"Maybe the remark of a child I once overheard helped me to learn to complain and grumble as little as possible," said Dr. Burt. "While I was studying at Wilbraham Academy I spent a few days with this child's father, a good man but a chronic growler. We were all sitting in the parlor one night, when the question of food arose. The child, a little girl, told cleverly what each member of the household liked best. Finally it came to the father's turn to be described as to his favorite dish.
'And what do I like, Lucy, my pet?' he said, laughingly.
'You,' said the little girl, slowly—'well, papa, dear, you like most anything we haven't got.'"
Guilt is always cowardly.
—From the Latin.
Dr. Guthrie tells an anecdote in which he humorously introduces a Brechin citizen, alive in his youthful days:—"An honest countryman came one day to Mr. Linton (head master of the grammar school) with a halflin[807:A], a long, empty chap, who had taken it into his head that he would have some little learning. Said the father, 'Mr. Linton, ye see, my laddie's fond o' lear'[807:B], and I'm thinking o' makin' a scholar o' him.' 'But,' said Mr. Linton, looking at the youth, and not seeing any sign that there was much in him, 'What are you to make of him?' 'You see, Mr. Linton,' rejoined the father—and it showed how sound the old Scotchman was—'if he gets grace, we'll make a minister o' him!' 'Oh, but,' says Mr. Linton, 'if he does not get grace, what will you make of him then?' 'Weel, in that case,' said the parent, 'if he disna get grace, we'll just mak' a dominie o' him! '"
Dr. Guthrie to his Son: "I saw an adage yesterday, in a medical magazine, which is well worth your remembering and acting on, it is this wise saying of the great Lord Bacon's:—'Who asks much learns much.' I remember the day when I did not like by asking, to confess my ignorance. I have long given up that, and now seize on every opportunity of adding to my stock of knowledge."
—From Memoir of Dr. Guthrie.
HA AND AH!
Ha, is an exclamation denoting surprise or joy; ah, an exclamation expressive of pity or grief.
How use doth breed a habit in a man!—
HOW TO CORRECT A BAD HABIT.
Penn was once advising a man to leave off his habit of drinking intoxicating liquors.
"Can you tell me how to do it?" said the slave of his appetite.
"Yes," answered Penn. "It is just as easy as to open thy hand, friend."
"Convince me of that and I will promise, upon my honor, to do as you tell me."
"Well, my friend," said the great Quaker, "when thou findest any vessel of intoxicating liquor in thy hand, open the hand that grasps it before it reaches thy mouth, and thou wilt never be drunk again."
The man was so pleased with the plain advice that he followed it.
You need not wrestle and strive with the old habit, only just be persistent in forming the good one, and the bad one will take care of itself.
Habit is like a cable; we weave a thread of it every day, and at last we cannot break it.
No man is free who is a slave to any kind of useless habit.
Habit, if not resisted soon, becomes necessity.
Habit with him was all the test of truth, "It must be right: I've done it from my youth."
INNOCENCE AND GUILT.
A painter, desiring to paint a picture of Innocence, found a beautiful boy playing at the side of a stream, who became his model. He painted him kneeling, with his hands clasped in prayer. The picture was prized as a very beautiful one. Years passed away, and the artist became an old man. He had often thought of painting a counterpart, the picture of guilt, as a companion to the other; and at last he executed it. He went to a neighboring prison, and there selected the most degraded and repulsive man he could find. His body and eye were wasted; vice was visible in his very face. But what was the artist's surprise when, on questioning the man as to his history, he found that it was he who, as a lovely boy, had kneeled for him as the model of Innocence! Evil habits had gradually changed him, not only in heart and mind, but in face and form.
All habits gather by unseen degrees. As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
Old habits are hard to break; new habits are hard to make.
Taste may change; our inclinations never change.
Habits are soon assumed—acquired—but when we strive to strip them off,—if of long standing—'tis being flayed alive!
To stop the hand, is the way to stop the mouth. (If a man will not work, neither shall he eat.)
ELOQUENCE OF THE HANDS.
The hands are, by the very instincts of humanity, raised in prayer; clasped in affection; wrung in despair; pressed on the forehead when the soul is "perplexed in the extreme;" drawn inward, to invite; thrust forth objectively, to repel; the fingers point to indicate, and are snapped in disdain; the palm is laid upon the heart, in invocation of subdued feeling, and on the brow of the compassioned in benediction. The expressive capacity of the hands was never more strikingly displayed than in the orisons (prayer) of the deaf and dumb. Their teacher stood with closed eyes, and addressing the Deity by those signs made with the fingers which constitute a language for the speechless. Around him were grouped more than a hundred mutes, following with reverent glances every motion. It was a visible, but not an audible, worship.
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HAND.
A dispute arose among three ladies as to which had the most beautiful hands. One sat by a stream, and dipped her hand into the water and held it up; another plucked strawberries until the ends of her fingers were pink; and a third gathered violets until her hands were fragrant. An old, haggard woman, passing by, asked, "Who will give me a gift, for I am poor?" all three denied her; but another who sat near, unwashed in the stream, unstained with fruit, unadorned with flowers or perfume, gave her a little gift, and satisfied the poor woman. Then the woman asked them what was the subject of their dispute; and they told her, and lifted up before her their beautiful hands. "Beautiful indeed!" she exclaimed, as she saw them. But when they asked her which was the most beautiful, she said: "It is not the hand that is washed clean in the brook; it is not the hand that is coloured with crimson tints; it is not the hand that is perfumed with fragrant flowers; but the hand that gives to the poor, that is the most beautiful."
True happiness Consists not in the multitude of friends, But in the worth and choice: nor would I have Them popular: Let them be good that love me, though but few.
Happiness consists in being perfectly satisfied with what we have got, and with what we haven't got.
Happiness consists not in possessing much, but in being content with what we possess. He who wants little, always has enough.